DISCLAIMER: HP is not mine.

Metaphors.

Blurb …

"It's a metaphor, Harry." She answered. "Oh and bring a filing cabinet with you." :Oneshot HG postDH:

Note: Metaphors is the semi-sequel to Sleep and Diving off the Edge, other stories of mine. You don't have to read them first, but i hope you do. Enjoy!

For the first time in Harry's life, he didn't know what to do.

Well, that was a bit of an overstatement. But Harry had always had a purpose in life, and one goal-to defeat Voldemort, and to never stop trying until he did.

But now he had. And he didn't know what to do.

Harry glanced over to the corner near the double doors leading into the Entrance Hall, where all the bodies of the dead lay. He could see the top of Mrs Weasley's head, and the beautiful blond of Fleur. Mr Weasley was talking to Professor McGonagall, but kept one eye on his wife. Bill wasn't far away, holding Fleur's hand, and was that … he believes that's Neville and Luna talking quietly on a bench over there.

Even somewhere upstairs, Ron and Hermione were probably snogging somewhere.

The Weasley family was grieving, and he felt uncomfortable to intrude upon their sadness. Though one part of his brain-the rational part-reminded him that he basically was a Weasley, he still felt like he didn't deserve to grieve with them. He didn't know Fred that well, when he thought about it.

Harry sat there at the Gryffindor table, lost in thought, watching all his old classmates, and teachers and the various people who had come to help. Madam Pomfrey was preparing to transfer the injured to the Hospital wing, or St Mungo's if necessary, and Harry saw Parvati and Padma Patel, reassuring a badly scratched up Lavender. Harry noticed a few more people just as bloody as her, and figured Bill would be able to organise a club for the "Part-werewolf's". Maybe he and Lupin-

The pain hit him with crippling force as he realised Lupin couldn't do anything-because he was among those who'd died. Harry knew what it was like to lose someone, but to think of them like that, to forget they'd died-that hurt.

Harry sighed and placed his arms on the table behind him, hiding his face in his arms. He didn't want to look any more, he didn't want to see.

It was then, Harry smelt the familiar smell. It was slightly covered up by the smoke and dirt from the battle, but the floral scent underneath he could smell perfectly. He'd recognise it anywhere.

Sure enough, it was Ginny's voice who spoke to him.

"Harry." She said. "Are you just going to sit here, moping, while your family grieves without you?"

Harry was startled into looking up-he wasn't expecting Ginny's no-nonsense response. He shook his head slightly to clear it.

"Because we need you, Harry." Ginny said, not giving him time to answer. "All of us. I need you."

He didn't know what to say-since when did Ginny know him so well? Harry knew that what she was true, and when she said it like that, it forced him to believe it. Before he even realised what he was doing, he had flung his arms around her, and was sobbing into her shoulder.

Ginny didn't say anything, but cried too. Over her shoulder, he saw that Ron and Hermione had come down, awkwardly sitting together, half-heartedly trying to conceal their twined hands behind them. It wasn't working very well, and Bill and Fleur had already spotted them.

Harry let go of Ginny rather reluctantly, and noticed that she looked different somehow-happier, if that was possible at this point.

"How are you?" He asked, and she knew he meant not just from the battle.

"I could've been better." She answered, shrugging. Harry mentally agreed, as he surveyed the damage, including a large cut under her eye. "Hogwarts was basically a war ground the past year, and the Battle was no picnic."

Harry very nearly laughed at the way she put it. "And now?"

"Now …" She sighed. "I've never lost someone before, Harry. I could imagine, and I could easily pretend, but I never expected it …" She didn't finish her sentence and looked away. "How d'you do it, Harry? You've been through so much, yet you still seem strong enough to face another day. Right now, I want to just crawl under a rock and stay there until someone rescues me."

Harry immediately wanted to hold her again, to rescue her from that aforementioned rock. But from experience, Harry knew Ginny didn't really want help-she was stubborn and the moment help came, she'd deflect it immediately. So he settled for holding her hands, and was surprised at how natural the gesture felt. He must've done this more often than he thought last year.

"It takes a while." Harry said. "You'll feel better some day. Maybe not now, but it will."

"Doesn't feel like it." Ginny muttered.

"You're still stubborn." Harry said back, giving a small laugh, despite himself. "Amazing though it sounds, it's one of the things I like about you."

Ginny gave a small smile. "Speaking of people liking each other … is that Ron and Hermione holding hands over there?"

She gestured behind her, and Harry looked past to see them bright red, and ignoring the comments being directed at them by Charlie. Harry managed to crack a grin and laughed.

"Yeah." He answered. "They kissed-or rather Hermione kissed Ron-during the Battle, and then I caught them snogging upstairs this morning."

Ginny sniggered and leaned forward, resting her head on Harry's shoulder. "I wish I could've seen that. If they weren't together after living in a tent for the past year, I was going to have a very serious talk with the both of them."

"Now I wish I could see that." Harry agreed. Ginny sighed into his neck.

"So if the world is such a new place that Ron and Hermione have actually sorted their crap out and gotten together, where does that place us?" She asked.

Harry felt his stomach jolt at the thought of what she was saying. "Erm, in the middle of the aftermath?"

"You know what I'm talking about." Ginny answered. "Have you sorted your crap? Or are you still swimming in it?"

"You're getting pretty good with the metaphors, I've noticed." Harry said, stalling his answer (he couldn't believe he was actually nervous of rejection). "First the whole 'Living under a rock' thing, now 'Sorting your crap' …"

"Well, what?" Ginny asked, sitting up to look at him. Harry took a deep breath and looked at her.

"I think I've officially sorted my crap." Harry answered. "And now that I've got nothing left, I'm sort of at a loss on what to do."

"Idiot." Ginny said, smiling properly for the first time since he'd seen her climb out of the hole in the wall in the Room of Requirement, all those hours ago. "You'll always have something to do-you're Harry Potter."

Harry sighed. "Ginny-"

But she cut him off, placing a finger over his mouth. She leaned in so close their noses were almost touching and he could've sworn his heart simply stopped, right then and there. She grinned and removed her finger.

"You want to know what to do?" She whispered. "I'm still under the rock, trying to sort through my crap. I have no filing cabinet to put the crap, and I can't do it by myself."

"Oh?" Was all Harry managed to say.

"Oh." Ginny agreed. "I need some help Harry-there's an awful lot of crap under there. Could you help me?"

Before he could answer, she'd kissed him lightly, got up and started to walk away.

Huh?

"Wait-Ginny!" Harry yelled. She turned around with an evil grin he remembered. "What in Merlin's name are you talking about?"

"It's a metaphor, Harry." She answered. She went to turn around, but stopped. "Oh and bring a filing cabinet with you."

He stared after her, watching as she walked off, before leaping up and running after her.

-Fin.

A/N: I keep finding stray stories on my computer, written, but unfinished. And weirdly enough, they all seem to be HG. So expect a few more stories to come.

This is the semi-sequel to Sleep and Diving off the Edge, my HarryRonHermione FRIENDship and RHr oneshots, respectively. There's only a slight reference to Diving off the Edge, but i thought i should just mention it, lol.

I hope you liked, reviews are always appriciated, until next time-

-Moon. : D