The shadows climbed along the walls, fear crept into his heart; knees wobbling, heart pounding, and pulse racing... Deep, even breaths could not still his beating heart and no amount of "maybe not's" could force away the dark thoughts. Soft voices filtered through his mind but he could not focus upon those- instead his eyes were on her, his mind screaming for her, his lips silently moving with the syllables of her name. The air of the dungeon chilled him to the very core, deep down into his very bones... He took a single step forward, ignoring the shadows that danced all around him. He approached her still, silent form, laid out across the floor as if she slept; her crimson locks spread out beneath her head, her face turned away, one hand lay to her side and the other reached out above her head, fingers grasping at nothing. Kneeling down beside her, he rose her up, cradling her against his chest, heart pounding harder than ever, his stomach turning over as he turned her face towards him...
He snapped awake with a shout, nearly throwing himself from the bed in his haste to fully awaken. Panting, he ran his hands along his face, groaning softly in the darkness of his bedroom. How many times would he awaken from such a nightmare? The image of her, of his beloved Ginny, flashed once again behind his lids; her pale skin, paler than parchment, her emaciated body weighing next to nothing in his arms. For how long would he suffer the grief of having almost lost her? Of almost not having her asleep beside him, their child in the crib in the room down the hall? That had been well over three years ago and she was safe, she was fine! He knew he would never forget the look of her when he'd stumbled upon her and Draco in that dungeon, mere ghosts of the people they had once been. It had been so long to recover and in truth, she was never the same, not entirely. Nor was he, for that matter. Seeing her in such a state had put him into a frenzy, had renewed his need and want to end the war, to safeguard those he loved the most. He had vowed never to let her come into harm's way again. Of course, she had always had other plans, but those such memories were for another night... He had enough of memories for one night.
Eyes still closed, he thrust a hand to her side of the bed, longing to feel the smoothness of her skin beneath his old t-shirt, to inhale her sweet and oh-so familiar scent. To his utter horror, his hand was not awarded the warmth of her body, but instead the coolness of the sheets. Harry's eyes snapped open and he flew out of the bed, his fears suddenly returning ten-fold. Where was she? "Ginny?" He called out, softly at first, but there came no response. His chest tightened, his stomach dropping. He raced from their bedroom, thundering down the hall, his footsteps echoing along the old wood. "Ginny!" He could not stop himself from shouting, his voice full of panic, his heart thudding hard within his chest. Throwing open the door to the nursery, he half-expected to find her there, perhaps she had fallen asleep nursing their infant son, perhaps she was smushed into his crib because sometimes she too needed reminders of her present life. Because sometimes she too felt the pull of the darkness, the grasping of the shadows that seemed to forever follow them. But as he entered, Harry came to realize she was not within those four walls. He stooped over the crib, to where the infant still soundly slept, not awakened by his father's shouts. A moment of relief as he reached down, tenderly running a hand over the downy dark hair; he was safe. But where... Where was his mother? Where was Ginny?
Racing from the room, he tore through the house, calling out to her; he threw open every door, lit every single light, panic rising and quickly turning to terror.
High, high above the house, Ginny soared through the skies, undetected beneath the Invisibility Cloak. On a night such as this one, where her dreams had been plagued by nightmares, she simply chose to avoid sleep instead. And so she'd gone out into the night, her broom in one hand, the other one draping the cloak over her shoulders, hiding her from any and all eyes that might have been looking out their windows. It was not too terribly often that she suffered such nightmares, not anymore, but like everything else in life, they came when she least expected them. In the years since her capture and imprisonment she had grown, she had changed, she had become someone new. She had to, it was her only way to survive, her only way to cope with all that had happened to her. And to Draco. The loss of him still hurt, even to this day, and she supposed it always would. Draco had been her protector, had been her strength when she had wanted to give in. But now he was gone and she had new strength to rely on. Ginny could not help but to smile as she thought of them both, of Harry with his emerald eyes and James with his little gummy smile. Her heart swelled with pride at the thought of her infant son, a mirror image of his father at eight months old, who surely would follow in his father's troublemaking footsteps, though his eyes would always be his mother's. Of all things... Being a mother was what she was meant to become. All that had happened? It was in the past. It was over. She was safe and loved and never alone. But sometimes... Sometimes the past still caught up with her.
She had been out for no longer than twenty mintutes when she saw the first light in their home turn on. Without thinking, she flew back to the ground, her feet touching down as Harry's voice caught her ears. By then, all of the lights were on inside the home and she could see him passing by the bay window. As if he could sense her, he turned, and their eyes met. The moment his eyes fell upon her, relief spread through him; his kness went momentairly weak with it, but then he was running, racing out into the back yard, his bare feet slipping and sliding on the dewy grass. Before Ginny could even speak, he was throwing his arms around her, dragging her to the ground, his lips on hers, his cheeks wet against hers. "I thought... I thought..." He kept mumbling, pulling back suddenly, his palms cupping either side of her cheeks, emerald eyes staring deep into her brown. "The bed was empty." He finally said, as if this explained it all. But it did, oh it truly did. At once she understood and she was flooded with guilt. He was running a hand through her wind-swept hair, his eyes eagerly taking in the sight of her, his hands shaking as they trailed down her body. "I thought you were gone."
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I should have..." She was cut off as his lips found hers once more, his body shaking as he tugged her closer, his arms winding around her slim frame, his chin resting atop her head, silencing her. Just having her there in his arms was enough... There was no need for anything else. Just having her there, safe and alive in his arms was enough. "Was it a dream?" Her soft voice caused him to lift his head, to look down at her beautiful features marred by concern. Her hand slipped into his, giving it a gentle squeeze, her lips curving with a sweet, comforting smile. "I'm alright, Harry, I'm here... I'm safe. We're safe." safe... What an interesting word safe was. It was something he had never felt before a few years ago. It was something he thought he'd never feel, something he thought his loved ones would never have. Safety was unheard of in the world controlled by Voldemort. But he was dead and gone for two years now. They were living in a new world where there was nothing to fear. He had no reason to fear losing her or James or anyone else. She reached her free hand up, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead, revealing the lightning bolt shaped scar there. Gently tugging his face down towards hers, she placed a kiss to the scar, then down his tear-stained cheek and to his lips, her other hand raising up to rest against the back of his head. "I'm never going anywhere."
As they rose up, his arm slung protectively around her waist, Ginny could not help but to smile; even their worst nightmares were the same... And their sweetest dreams too. He led her back into their home, where one by one they flipped the lights off, and made one last stop before returning to their own room. James slept soundly in his crib, his little fist clenched at his side; reaching down, Ginny ran her fingertips along the curve of his cheek, unable to keep herself from smiling upon their son. Harry, with his arm still around her, leaned over to kiss their child and then tugged her from the room, down the hall and into their own bedroom. As he stripped her from her clothes, Ginny felt her heart quickening its pace, felt her stomach as it fluttered with butterflies; his mouth was upon hers then, his arms lifting her up to carry her to their bed. He deposited her and climbed in after her, pulling her close to him, hastily throwing a blanket over their bare frames a moment later. He was murmuring into her ear and then silence lapsed and his breathing slowed until after a short while, he'd drifted off to sleep, one arm draped over her hips. Turning onto her other side, so she faced him instead, Ginny watched him as he slept. She offered a silent prayer that his sleep would be restful and his dreams beautiful... She hoped he dreamed of her now, of their wonderful son and their new, beautiful life. As she closed her own eyes, she knew without a doubt, there would be no more nightmares. Not tonight, not ever.