A/N: This story is written in four distinct chapters, each focusing on a different way that Harry might have coped in the aftermath of the final battle, and involves one of the women in Harry's life. These stories should all be viewed as separate entities and not as one continual story. I hope you enjoy.
"You have your D.A. coins, right?" Harry said urgently, his gaze flickering back and forth between his two best friends, who nodded their heads in response. "If anything happens, you let me know. Anything."
"We'll be fine, mate," Ron replied with shadow of a grin. "Portkey to Australia, nab the Grangers, portkey back. No worries."
"Yeah," Hermione added, looking less certain, "the explaining will be the hard part."
"They'll understand, Hermione," Harry said, reassuringly, noticing the tears welling up in her eyes. "They love you. Just stick to the basics for now. And if all else fails, just pin all the blame on me." He attempted a wry smile that fell flat.
Hermione threw her arms around Harry in a tight embrace. "None of this was your fault. Stop saying that," she hissed into his ear. He didn't answer. They had had this discussion before and it never ended well. She loosened her grip and looked him in the eye. "You'll be alright without us, won't you?"
Harry felt a lump of dread settle into his stomach. This would be the first night he would be spending away from his best friends since the battle at Hogwarts. It had been nearly a month since he defeated Voldemort, and his life had been a whirlwind of joys and sorrows, celebrations and memorial services. The only constant had been his two best friends at his side. Well, that and the nightmares, the demons that haunted his sleep each night. If he were honest with himself, he wasn't sure if he would be ok.
Still, he pulled away from Hermione and looked her square in the eye. "I'll be fine. It's you two I'm worried about. There are still a lot of death eaters out there. Take care of yourselves."
"We'll be fine," Ron repeated, punching Harry lightly in the shoulder. "You worry too much." He grinned, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Subconsciously, he reached over and intertwined his fingers with Hermione's. Hermione squeezed his hand in return, and in that gesture, Harry realized that the two of them would do whatever it took to protect one another. They would be fine without him.
"We'll be back by the end of the week," Hermione added. "And we'll use the coin if anything happens. I swear."
Harry nodded. The old newspaper on the ground before them slowly began to glow blue.
"That's our ride!" Ron called out, picking it up and holding it out to Hermione. She quickly reached out, grabbed the corner of the paper, and with a last look at Harry, the two of them vanished.
Harry ran his hand through his hair, uncertain of what to do now that they were gone. He hadn't realized how much he had been relying on the two of them the past few weeks. He thought briefly about seeking out Ginny, but things had been awkward between them; neither of them knew how to act around the other any more.
He needed to be alone, to think. He hesitated for a moment, trying to come up with a place where he wouldn't be interrupted. Eventually, he decided upon the broom shed. Mr. Weasley was at the ministry, so the chances of anyone being there were slim. Plus, no one had much been in the mood for Quidditch lately, so it was unlikely that he would be interrupted.
He eased open the heavy door and slipped inside. "Lumos," he murmured, pulling out his wand in the darkness. He gazed around the shed, casting homenum revelioto ensure no one was hidden inside. When he was satisfied that he was alone, he sank heavily onto a stool in the corner and allowed his thoughts to drift back to Hermione and Ron. He thought about how Ron had insisted that he go to Australia with Hermione, and how she gave in rather easily, despite how set she had seemed on going alone. "Prats," he muttered, smiling slightly. He was glad that his two best friends had finally put their pride aside and admitted that they liked one another. However, he wasn't sure where that left him. With everything else that had changed, he wasn't prepared for what this change would mean for the three of them. He wondered if he would mind so much if he wasn't alone.
His thoughts instantly jumped back to Ginny. He wasn't sure what her feelings were for him, but he knew that he loved her. He had never stopped loving her. His mind drifted back to the time they had spent together: the look in her eyes before they had kissed for the first time, the way the sunlight looked reflecting off her hair as they spent an afternoon by the lake, the way her hand fit so perfectly into his, the gift she had given him for his birthday... Even when she wasn't around, his thoughts had drifted to her. All those nights spent watching her dot on the Marauder's map, wondering what she was doing, how she was doing, imagining the future they could have together when it was all over.
All of that was beside the point, however. He realized now that they could never be together. Heading to bed that first night after the battle, he felt at peace, but he had woken up the next morning to the realization that it wasn't over - it would never be over. He felt the blood of all those who had died at Hogwarts on his hands and nothing anyone said to him could change that. He was a killer, damaged goods, no use to anyone. He often wondered if he had made the right decision, coming back from King's Cross. Dumbledore had told him that he had a choice. At the time, returning had seemed like the right thing to do, but now he wasn't so sure. Harry shook himself out of this train of thought. Even if he had made a mistake, there was no going back now. He just had to try to make the best of what was left, had to do what was right for the people he hadn't allowed to die.
He would leave, tomorrow, before Ron and Hermione came back and tried to stop him. It wasn't an idea he was particularly fond of, but that would be best for everyone. Ginny could forget about him; she could find someone else, someone better, someone who wouldn't constantly put her in danger. Ron and Hermione could spend their lives together, happily bickering without him, following their own paths for once instead of being dragged along on his. And Harry would do his best to stay out of their lives. At least he would know that they were safer without him. He just hoped that he wouldn't mess this up as badly as he had messed up everything else.
* * *
Ginny rolled on to her back with a sigh. She couldn't sleep, not that it was anything new for her really. She couldn't remember the last time she had really slept well. She had worried herself sick ever since Hermione, Ron, and Harry had left on their mission. When she returned to Hogwarts, she had thrown herself into leading Dumbledore's Army with Neville and Luna to occupy her thoughts during the day, but she couldn't escape the nightmares. Ever since being possessed by the diary in her first year, the nightmares had periodically haunted her, and they had only intensified since the battle. The faces of the dead and the living bled together until she could no longer distinguish who had been lost and who had survived. It was hell for her, but she knew that others had it worse, so she didn't mention it. Through the ceiling she heard muffled cries and let out a sigh.
Harry must be dreaming again.
Nearly every night she awoke to his muffled cries of distress as he tossed and turned on the floor above. The languishing sounds were always interrupted by the soothing voice of Hermione and an occasional comment from Ron. She knew she was daft to be jealous of them, but she couldn't help it. She wanted to be the one to wake him from his nightmares. To soothe him, to hold his hand and stroke his hair, but it wasn't her he needed. He had made that abundantly clear with his distance.
In the immediate aftermath of the battle, she had been certain that it was only a matter of time before they were together again. They had both survived, due only to a combination of love and sheer luck. After Voldemort fell, Ginny had rushed to embrace him, relishing the feel of his arms around her. They held each tightly for only a brief moment until he was pulled away for others to embrace. She watched him through that long day, but was unable to get near to him until the next morning. By that time, something had changed. He was a different person: haunted, solemn. He agreed to return to the burrow without argument, but rarely spoke to anyone besides Ron and Hermione. Despite the month they had spent living together, she and Harry had never once been alone. They had exchanged only passing comments
She understood, of course. He had been through a lot. Ron and Hermione had been through it with him, so it made sense that the three of them would want to be together. She knew it would take time. She had to wait, to give him the space that he needed for now, but it was so difficult when she could hear his pain every night and could do nothing to stop it. She felt a tear run down her check as she waited for the cries to cease, to be replaced with the calming voices of the other two, but they continued. What's taking them so long? She thought bitterly. Then she remembered...Ron and Hermione had left for Australia that afternoon. Harry was alone, locked in his nightmares with no one to wake him.
Without a second thought, she threw back the covers, leapt out of bed, and pattered quickly up the stairs to the room where Harry fitfully slept. She paused for a moment at the door, drew a breath then pushed it open.
There he was, tossing violently in a pool of moonlight, tangled in the bedcovers. Ginny crossed to the bed and crawled up next to him. She hesitated for a moment before placing her hand upon his bare shoulder. It was the first time she had touched him since their embrace after Voldemort's defeat. She let her hand rest there for a moment before shaking him gently. "Harry," she called softly, to no result. She tried again, leaning over him and shaking him more firmly. "Harry, wake up." He woke with a jolt, roughly grabbing Ginny's arm with one hand while the other hand held his wand inches from her face. Ginny sat back with a shudder at the look of ferocity in his eyes.
"It's ok, Harry, you were dreaming," she pleaded, her voice shaking.
"Ginny?" he said squinting at her as he lowered his wand and released his grip on her arm. She nodded as he fumbled for his glasses and pushed himself upright. "Lumos," he muttered, the tip of his wand lighting. "What are you doing here?"
"You were having a nightmare. I could hear you..." she trailed off, rubbing her arm absently.
"Merlin, Gin, what did I do to you? Are you alright?" Harry held his lit wand up to her arm, where the imprint of his fingers could clearly be seen blossoming into a bruise.
"It's nothing," she said dismissively, despite the throbbing she felt. "You were asleep. It was an accident."
Harry pulled his knees up to his chest and ran his hand through his dishevelled hair. "It's these damn nightmares. They're always lurking. The second I close my eyes, I'm back at Hogwarts and..." He cleared his throat and brushed a trembling hand hastily across his eyes. "I'm sorry I woke you. It's fine. They're just dreams. Go back to sleep."
Ginny could sense the dismissal, but she was tired of being pushed away.
"You know Harry, just because you're 'the chosen one' doesn't mean you always have to be a hero."
He looked at her strangely. "I'm not...I-"
"Right," Ginny rolled her eyes. "You haven't spoken more than a few words to anyone since you got here. You hardly even look at me." She dropped her eyes, but forced herself to continue. "If you don't want to be with me, that's fine Harry. We can be friends at least, can't we? You don't have to do this alone."
Harry sighed, "It's not that, Ginny. It's just…better this way. I'm no good to anyone anymore. I'm falling apart."
"Well, what if I don't care if you're not any good for me? What if I can be good for you?" She smiled mischievously and moved to curl up against him.
"Ginny? What are you doing?" he cringed away from her touch. "Please, don't do this, not now."
"Why not now, Harry?" Ginny spit back. "What's stopping you?" He didn't answer. "Come on, Potter, at least talk to me! I want to help you."
He nearly reached out to grab her hand, but stopped and ran it through his hair in frustration. "You can't help me. I just make a mess of everything."
"Stop it, Harry. You're the bloody saviour of the world. Self-pity doesn't suit you."
Harry laughed mirthlessly. "Some saviour. More than fifty people dead, fifty people I didn't save."
"Is that what this is about? Voldemort and his Death Eaters were the ones who killed them, Harry, not you. You're the one who stopped him. You saved countless others that he would have killed. You were willing to die to save everyone."
"I should have stayed dead."
Ginny slapped him across the face, seething with anger. "Don't you ever say that again."
Harry slowly raised his eyes to look at her, his jaw clenched. "I think you should go."
"Maybe you're right. Maybe this was a mistake." She climbed off the bed and crossed to the door. "You're not the only one with nightmares, you know." She left the room.
Harry stared after her long after she was gone.
* * *
Ginny lay awake long after she returned to her room, the conversation she had with Harry playing through her mind. She couldn't believe that she had hit him. She still thought that he deserved it, but wished that she hadn't. It had just been such a shock to hear him say that he should have died, in that terrible, hollow tone. She wanted to apologize, but she didn't think she could face him yet. She didn't want to look into his eyes and not see the spark that used to be there.
Finally, she drifted into a fitful sleep, the conversation from earlier blending seamlessly into her dreams. There was Harry, once again dead in Hagrid's arms. Only this time, she knew that he wouldn't return, he wouldn't spring up to save the day. He was really gone, and without him, they were all dead. Voldemort would win. There was no hope.
"Ginny, come on. Wake up, Gin." She awoke with tears in her eyes. She looked up to see who it was that had awoken her, and was startled to see Harry's green eyes staring back at her, stricken with concern and very much alive. It took everything she had not to throw herself into his arms.
"Are you alright?" Harry asked, still in a whisper, sitting at the edge of her bed.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just another bloody nightmare." She brushed the tears from her eyes, angry that Harry had seen her like this.
"I never realized that you had them, too." Harry dropped his gaze and began to play with a frayed string in her blanket. "Bit dense of me to think I was the only one, I guess."
"That's an understatement," she shot back. Her voice softened as she continued. "After six years I guess I got pretty good at hiding them."
His eyes flicked up and met hers. She could see him calculating in his head, but it wasn't something she wanted to bring up again.
"Why did you come down here?" she redirected before Harry could say anything.
He shrugged, "I heard you from upstairs and figured you had woken me earlier, so I should return the favour." His mouth twitched into a half grin, but it faded quickly. "Look Ginny, I'm sorry about what I said before. I shouldn't have said it."
"Damn right you shouldn't have. You shouldn't have even thought it."
"I can't help it. Part of his soul was inside of me, Ginny. Every breath I took was helping to keep him alive. That has to make me at least partially responsible for everything that happened, everyone who died." He hung his head, and went back to studying the loose threads of her quilt.
"No, Harry. It doesn't. You walked up to him, prepared to die to save everyone. You knew, just as everyone who went to Hogwarts that night, everyone who has ever stood up to Voldemort, knew that defeating him was more important than individual lives. Remus, Tonks, Sirius, Fred, Colin, your parents, even Dobby, they all knew what they were facing. They were all willing to accept the consequences. They knew going into it that they might not survive. We all did." She paused for a moment. "Do you know what it was like to see Hagrid carrying your body back to the castle, thinking that those few stolen moments by the lake would be the only ones we would ever have? Thinking that I'd never again hold your hand, or hear your voice, or see you smile. Thinking that I'd lost you before I even had a chance to tell you that I loved you."
She reached out and touched his face, lifting his chin until they were making eye contact. "Because I do love you. You survived, Harry. Do you think any one of those people who gave their life to defeat Voldemort would want you to waste yours wallowing in guilt? They loved you, Harry. They would be happy that you survived, that you finally have an opportunity to have a life free of the shadow of Voldemort. That's what they were fighting for. You're still alive, Harry. Embrace it."
Before she could stop herself, she was leaning in and kissing him. After a moment of surprised hesitation, he kissed her back.