All characters and ideas belong to J.K. Rowling who is a never ending inspiration to all my creative endeavours. The whole thing is dedicated to you J.K! Hopefully this story will progress into more than a chapter, I have lots of ideas, please let me know if anyone has something to contribute or give advice on :) By the way, my dad wrote a review from my account which was all too embarrassing so if you could kindly ignore that, I'm quite sorry, I hope you can understand proud and obsessed parents :P

Chapter 1 – A Tragic Victory

Harry Potter was exhausted. In some absurd way, the thought of a warm soft bed made him happier than his recent victory over the world's darkest and most powerful wizard. Harry absentmindedly wandered the devastated halls of his once grand and majestic school. Hogwarts, a place that had always been indisputably safe in Harry's mind, had just been home to one of the wizarding world's most tragic battles.

He peered out of one of the high paneled windows and winced when he saw that even his beloved quidditch pitch had been burnt away until the only thing visible was a small Slytherin flag idly standing in the soil. Harry made a mental note to remove it and rip it into shreds when he had the time. He turned the corridor and gazed at what seemed like never-ending destruction. Hundreds of heavy stone bricks littered the surface of the ground. Harry also spotted several of Professor Trelawney's crystal balls rolling around in the wreckage. Objects that were once present had been so badly burnt that no one could even attempt to recognize them. Most of the portraits that hung on the walls were blacked out or torn apart so thoroughly it was as if someone was planning on doing paper maché with them.

A few students sat or lay in the corridor, gently nursing a friend or quietly weeping after the events of the battle. They were finally letting themselves feel what they couldn't have in the midst of the fight. A fight that ruined so much and so many. And this was the thought that raced endlessly through Harry's mind– did Voldemort's defeat that day really justify any of the lives lost? Surely Fred and Remus and Tonks and… Harry could not bear to remember any of his other friends, lost in a battle that he had begun. He was the reason that dozens of families around him wept, grieving over a loved one who fought so valiantly for their friends and family but would never talk or laugh with them again. However, Harry was well aware that he couldn't mention any of his woes to Ron or Hermione, or anyone for that matter. He knew they would say that Voldemort needed to die and that he was a hero.

Harry continued on his silent and solitary walk through the castle. He didn't mind that his two best friends were not with him since he knew Hermione and Ron were undoubtedly curled up somewhere, finally revealing years of unsaid things to each other. He was just as much happy as he was relieved that they had finally figured it out and he would no longer have to awkwardly ignore their obvious feelings for each other. He was also thankful that his friends could talk to each other, comfort each other. He knew only too well how unbearable their last year had been.

Harry continued to stray in lonely passages of Hogwarts, knowing exactly whom he wanted to talk to and feeling anguish rapidly boiling up inside him as he thought of her. Ginny. The only person who could make him feel lighter than air. An unfailing and constant source of happiness. But would she even be happy to see him? Her brother was dead. Fred Weasley was gone and Harry knew his death would hang over the Burrow forever. Harry was anxious about making an appearance at the Great Hall, where he knew Fred's body lay with several heartbroken red headed family members around him. He knew it was shameful to be afraid of facing them but if he saw anger in any of their eyes, he did not think he could bear it. They were after all his family and he felt responsible for all the hurt they now had to bear.

But Harry knew it was time to go, he couldn't bear to be away from Ginny's side for another minute. He had spent so many cold and lonely nights in the recent months thinking of her, that he owed it to himself to at least look into to her big brown eyes.

He fumbled slowly down the moving staircase and into the Great Hall. His stomach sunk when he saw the enormous amount of injured people, covering nearly every surface of the blood stained ground. It was the most tragic victory he had ever witnessed. Had this battle done more harm than good?

Harry could not take the time to ponder his fears since he had just spotted the Weasleys, crowded around Fred just as he'd imagined. His heart ached as he drew closer. Molly Weasley was sobbing loudly into her husband's shoulder. And George…there was nothing but an agonized silent stare emanating from his hollow face. Harry unwillingly lowered his eyes to Fred. His dead body was drained of all colour, his clothes drenched in his own blood. Despite his horrific state, a faint smile still coloured his pale face, reminding everyone what kind of person Fred Weasley was– the most gleeful and good-hearted man you could ever meet. He and George had so often provided the cure for Harry's distress, their mischief and pranks had played such a big role in his own trouble making and amusement at Hogwarts.

"Harry" Mrs. Weasley said. Harry turned to her, seeing a tired and depleted woman looking back at him. The anger Harry was afraid might be in Molly Weasley's eyes was nowhere to be seen, instead the overly kind and loving woman took Harry into his arms and held him until he allowed some tears to escape his wide green eyes and trickle gently onto her shoulder. He knew then that the Weasleys would never blame him for what happened. He still doggedly believed that he did not deserve this kindness, but he could not help the joy and relief that flooded over him. They were after all the closest thing he had to a family, and they had treated him like one of their own for seven years. He proceeded to hug each Weasley huddled around Fred, exchanging sorrowing and knowing looks with each in turn. Suddenly he was struck with the realization that Ginny was not present in the Great Hall, this was very odd…

"Mrs. Weasley, where's Ginny? I thought she'd be here" He looked at her, worry spreading across his face.

"Oh, she needed to see Madame Pomfrey in the hospital wing, or what's left of it. She'll be fine, but come to think of it, it would be lovely if you went and checked on her" she said with a sob. Harry didn't even wait to to ask what had happened to Ginny, not wanting to believe she had even got so much as a scratch from the battle. He dashed from the Great Hall and down the corridor, which led to the hospital wing.

Every remaining hospital bed that hadn't been crushed in the wreckage was housing one or two injured people. Harry's eyes scanned the room until he spotted a familiar mane of red hair near the back of the long candle-lit room. Ginny was curled up on the ground, staring into space with an expressionless look on her face. Even looking at her made butterflies form in Harry's chest, as if he were a jittery first year. As he approached, Ginny's sunken eyes found Harry's and she gave him a small tired smile. As Harry came closer, he noticed that she was covered from head to toe in dirt and soot, her long red hair was full of small bits of debris, with a couple of greasy strands clinging to her pale face. To his horror, Harry then realized Ginny's pant leg had been ripped open, a deep crimson oozing eerily into a puddle around her.

"Ginny! Who did this to you?" Harry nearly screamed the words at her; furious at himself for not realizing she was in a all alone, blood seeping from her delicate body.

"Harry listen, I'm fine" Ginny started in a weary voice, he could tell she was in pain, perhaps even holding back tears. "Some slimey death eater jinxed me from behind." Ginny could tell that Harry was not entirely satisfied with her answer and continued reassuringly, "It'll heal quickly but there's a lot of people who need help first."

Harry relaxed a little and stared into her light brown eyes. Even despite the wreckage the battle had caused to Ginny's appearance, her face was illuminating to him.

"Ginny… I.. I um" Harry wanted to tell her how much he loved her. How she was often the only thing that forced him to continue on his quest to defeat Tom Riddle. That he never wanted to leave her side again.

"Shut it Harry" Ginny said, a small grin curling on her lips, "you don't have to talk now. We have lots of time to talk." And with that, she feebly extended her hand which Harry gladly accepted as he gently placed himself beside her on the floor. Ginny softly sunk her head into his shoulder and the two fell instantly asleep. Their dreams, like many dreams to come, were full of sunken corpses, shadowy figures, and heart-wrenching and terrible loss.