DISCLAIMER: I siriusly don't own these characters. But, they certainly are wonderful to play with.

Thank you to my wonderful beta, seaweedbrain213! You are the best! Xo

Rated T for language

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One More Time

"Where's your bag?"

"I left it in the Great Hall."

"Okay."

He walked along with footsteps that did not echo. His movements were quiet, understated, and determined. He needed to see her.

Right foot then left foot. Right foot then left foot. Those were the only kind of thoughts he allowed himself to process. He mustn't think about anything else. Not right now. Not if he wanted to find her.

The one side of the entrance to the Great Hall now resembled more of an eroding arch than a door frame, from where stone had been blasted away. Like much of the castle, there was a thin layer of dust and crumbling stone that had laid to rest. This was what Harry forced his thoughts to as he crossed the threshold into the hall. Notthe figures lined in a row covered by bedsheets. Notthe dumbstruck witches and wizards who remained in the hall despite the immediate work being done. Definitely not the ache his screaming mind was inducing on his body.

He needed to find the bag. And he did. It wasn't hard to spot the brown-beaded fabric on the table top, slumping as if by example from the other things in the room; the people, the doorway, the bodies.

NO! Right foot then left foot. That's it. Get to the bag. Don't think. Don't about anything but the bag.

Finally his hand came to the fabric and for a moment he was stunned because the simple task he had been concentrating so hard on was complete. But he mustn't let his mind wander. He has to see her.

Get the map.

Harry reached his hand inside the item that was once so vital to his survival. Not anymore. It had become more of a nuisance and he didn't care to ever see it again. His fingers found the purchase they sought on the parchment. It was soft from being folded and refolded until it had become limp. He pulled it out and spread the paper over the ridged surface of the table.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good." He barely enunciating the words. Never had he meant them less.

Harry felt what was almost a panic rising in his stomach as he scoured the map for the most precious dot; the one marked Ginny Weasley. Thirty seconds, a minute, two minutes, five, Harry hadn't found her yet. He thought he might throw something. The panic had risen to his neck and he was about to lose his breath.

Stopping for a moment, he closed his eyes, took a breath, and reentered his search on the map, this time cutting off the panic from making him go too fast. He tried to look calmly. It was taking all his remaining concentration. THERE!His mind yelled at him as finally his eyes spotted her speck leaving the castle towards the Quidditch pitch.

Harry's legs didn't need anymore telling than that. Seizing the map from the table, he half ran to where he would find her. He didn't even stop to consider why she was on the Quidditch pitch. He rushed down the stairs and out the main doors as he watched Ginny's dot enter the Gryffindor boys' Quidditch dressing room. It was an odd place to go, giving the circumstances, but Harry didn't grace this with much thought. Nothing about the current situation was normal.

He needed to see her. And now at least he knew where he would find her.

Outside in the grounds, Harry's numbness was starting to wear off. The sun was coming through the clouds, brilliantly illuminating the trees and lake with an ethereal glow. The birds were already fluttering their songs and the wind was warm and gentle.

Nature clearly wasn't mourning.

At first the nice day was a mere annoyance to Harry as he strode through the grounds towards the pitch. But the longer he walked the less tepid his anger became.

How dare they! How dare the world just continue like nothing has happened, like no one lost their lives, like an ordinary day. It should be raining, he thought. The sky should go black and never be bright again until their hearts were healed.

But it wouldn't. Because regardless that Fred was dead, that Remus was dead, that Tonks and Lavender and everyone else were gone, the day beat on. So did the hours, the minutes, the seconds. And so he ought to.

Harry was nearly to the boys' change room where Ginny's dot could still be found on the map. He folded it back up the way it had been so many times before.

He went in.

These quarters were familiar to him having spent many early mornings here getting ready for practice. There was one large room after the hallway and off of the left were the shower stalls. The shower on the far right was turned on. The sound of water and a wall of humidity hit him as Harry walked towards it. He knew she must be in there. But now so close to her he felt different kind of panic at the idea of finally seeing her than the one he had bore before.

Still, forcing himself down the rows of showers, left foot then right foot. As Harry got closer, though, he could hear her through the sound of the pattering water, short gasping intakes of breath that had an audible higher pitched yelp accompanying each one.

Finally, he had come to her shower stall. The curtain was open and she was on the floor, curled up in a ball. The water had drenched her hair which hung in her face collected in matted clumps. Her clothes clung to her body sopping wet and dirt and makeup drew paths through each of her cheeks.

"Ginny," he mouthed so softly that it almost didn't make a sound. She must have heard him, though, because she looked up at him, grasping her wand, before she lowered it turning her head from side to side. She was trembling so violently that Harry almost didn't make this out as separate from her tremors.

He could feel his grip slipping. The anger, and the panic and the sadness, and the consuming hurtwere pushing against his insides. Seeing her like this had been the last straw. It had broken his last resistance against the realities of the agony. He knew it would be hard but he hadn't imagined her like this. She looked shattered. And he didn't believe that he could fix her.

He did the only thing he could do. Harry sat down beside her under the running water. Harry leaned against the wall and squeezed his eyes closed. He felt the tremors that were racking her body through the pressure their touching thighs shared. Eventually he opened his eyes. There was no damming the tears that had welled in them. He took off his glasses so the hot water could disguise the salty droplets on the way to the drain.

Ginny let a moan break from her lips which became extremely hyperventilated breathing. He turned to her and pushed the dregs of hair away from her face.

"I can't! I can't! I can't! I can't! I can't! I can't! I can't! I can't! I can't! I can't! I can't!" She cried. She took his arm that had been moving her hair and held it tight to her chest with both of hers, threading her fingers through his, as if she was afraid that he would disappear. He knew that she wouldn't let him leave, not now that he was here.

"He's gone! He's gone! I can't! I can't! I can't!" she kept saying hysterically.

If the shower water had disguised his tears, there was nothing to be done about the way he was shaking now. He moved to hold her as tightly as he could, his right arm still in her possession. Her head was tucked under his chin with her forehead and nose against his throat.

"It hurts! It hurts! Please! I don't want this! I don't want this! Please! Take it away!"

"I know, Ginny. I know. I'm so sorry. I don't want you to feel this either."

She moved so she could look into his eyes. She held her hands on either side of the base of his neck as she spoke. "Then take it away! Please, take it away. Turn it off! I don't want to feel it. He's gone! He's gone!"

He was sobbing now too. Never in his life had he cried so hard. "I can't, Ginny. I wish I could."

She sat back against the wall retaking his hand. "That's his Quidditch locker."

Harry looked at the opposite wall and even without his glasses on he could make out the blurry script of Fred Weasleyand below Beatercarved into a golden plate on the locker door.

"I don't believe it. I can't believe it. He is still here in so many ways and I-I-I- just can't accept that I saw him get..."

And the sobs were back but she continued to speak though brokenly. "How am I supposed to live at home when he won't be there? How I supposed to sit at the dinner table without him across from me?How am I supposed to look at George and know that his best friend is gone? How am I supposed to live with my mother after she's lost a son? She'll never be the same. Nothing will ever be the same. I can't, Harry! I can't do it! I can't!

"And you! I can't believe that I can actually feel you right now! I thought I lost you. So many times I thought I did. Hell, I thought you as good as dead when you left in the summer. I thought you were dead when no one heard from the three of you for months, bloody months! I saw you earlier in Hagrid's arms, and I knew you were dead. Voldemort said you were dead." There was an anger in her sobs now that Harry couldn't believe was directed at anyone but himself. Her words were frantic and relentless.

"But now," she continued, now turning to face him full on. "Now you're here and I can see you. I can fucking touch you again."

And then kissed him hard on the mouth.

It was not a romantic kiss.

It was an angry kiss. It was a tearful kiss. It was a desperate kiss. It was a lecherous kiss. It was a begging kiss. It was a passionate kiss. It was a "I'm mad at you" kiss. It was a "I need you" kiss. It was a "touch me" kiss. It was a "I'm hurting" kiss. I was a "I missed you" kiss. It was a "never leave me" kiss. Most of all, it was a "I am exhaustively in love with you" kiss.

She leaned forward onto her knees pressing against him more roughly than ever before. She tore out of the kiss violently. Sitting back down against the wall, her sobs resumed with the same rigour as before.

"What the fuck am I doing? I'm sitting in the shower sopping wet, snogging my ex-boyfriend, about to rip my clothes off. Meanwhile, my brother was murdered today. I should be mourning. I should be with my family. I can't! I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry, Fred."

Out of all her behaviour so far, this was what had frightened Harry the most. He hated seeing her this way. It scared him and he didn't know what to do for her. "It's okay, Ginny. It's okay. You are mourning, see? Do you want me to take you back to the castle? I'll take you to your family."

"No, Harry. No, I don't want to see them. I can't see them," she breathed. Taking his arm for the third time, she rested her cheek on his shoulder.

"The thing I want most in this world is just to see him one more time. One more time, it's all I need. I need to tell him that I think he's brilliant, that I love him and that I'll help George run the joke shop and that he was the best brother I could ever have asked for. I'd tell him that he made me tough and silly and scheming just like he was. I'd tell him that I'll miss his singing in the shower at six o'clock in the morning even though I used to yell at him for it. And for pranking and teasing the boys I used to go out with. And for teaching me to play Quidditch and to cuss. And I'd tell him thank you for always making me laugh especially when I just felt like crying. And I'd tell him I'm sorry and I'll miss him. So bloody much."

Her breathing had slowed and she seemed a little calmer. Eventually she let go of Harry's arm and curled up into a ball on her side, resting her head in his lap. She closed her eyes and he could feel her taking deep breaths.

"Are you cold, darling?" he said lowly. She nodded. Harry reached his arm up to turn up the heat on the water. He brought his hand back down to stroke her hair.

"Go to sleep. I'm here. It's okay."

"We can't stay here forever."

"We can stay here as long as we need."

She took his other hand in and held it close to her.

"Thank you, Harry."

And in that moment, he knew that he loved her more than he could ever tell her.

N/A:

Thank you for reading!

Written for:

Title Swap Competition II

Philosopher Stone Competition- The Mirror of Erised,

Potions Competition- Antidote to Uncommon Poisons,

Colours Competition- Blue Negative,

Greenhouse Competition- Palm,

Hogwarts Classes Competition- Transfiguration,

Dark Side Competition-Nagini

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Elysium xoxo