"No! Harry!"

The boy who died and came back to life woke with a start in his bed. He was drenched in sweat. It had been years since he'd had that dream, and yet every day in the past week he had been woken from the screams of his mother the night she died.

"Harry?" There was a sound from the fireplace, like embers crackling his name. Harry lifted his head and looked at the end of the bed, into the fireplace, and relief swept over his body when he saw his wife's face. The fire looked as though it belonged on her head, blending in quite nicely with her own head of fiery red hair.

"Ginny, how long have you been-"

"Only long enough to hear you moaning in your sleep." She said, her voice had an edge to it. "Can I come through?"

"Of course." Ginny's face disappeared. Harry threw the blanket off of his body and strode over to the fireplace, giving his wife enough room to floo through. A moment later, Ginny's entire body swept through the fire and into Harry's room at the Green Ghoul Inn.

Without a word, the couple caught each other in a warm embrace. "I hate being away from you for so long." Harry whispered in her ear, caressing the back of her head. He pulled away long enough to look into her eyes, before swooping down to catch her lips in his.

After a long, steamy kiss, the couple pulled apart, making their way to the bed.

"How long do you have?" Harry pulled her close, as she pushed him onto the bed. The duvet was scratchy and the mattress was bumpy. It wasn't home at all.

"Not long, Ron and Hermione are over to see the children get to bed. James has been talking in his sleep, Lily's excited for her first day of school in a week. You'll be there to see her off, won't you?" Ginny bit his lip and tugged.

"Mmph," Harry replied, his voice muffled against her lips. He nodded and clasped his hand around her neck. They held each other, desperate to make the short time they had together last.

"Harry, you're shaking." Ginny managed to say through their fierce little kisses. It was true. Harry's body was vibrating against Ginny's and, had she not known for a fact that he had never been bitten, she would've suspected that he were about to transform into a werewolf.

Harry bowed his head into the crook of Ginny's neck. He sighed deeply before rolling off of her and staring up at the ceiling of the inn he took residence in when work poured into his personal life.

"What is it, love?" Ginny asked, rolling onto her side to stare intently at her husband. He rolled onto his side and looked into her bright brown eyes, knowing he couldn't lie to her. Hell, she probably had some insight into what was troubling his mind.

"I can't seem to help but have this feeling that... something went wrong. Something isn't what it should be." He pulled his wife closer to his body as though afraid she would slip from his presence. "I keep having dreams... nightmares."

"Of the battle?" Ginny asked softly. Harry knew she was still haunted by the horrible events that happened those many years ago. He shook his head and knitted his brows, frustrated.

"It's my mother. I can still hear her screams in my head." Ginny stared at Harry, disconcerted. "But it's different now. I can't explain it. It's too mad to understand myself."

"Nothing's mad, Harry... Unless you count Hermione trying to cook us a proper Christmas dinner. As much as she insists she's a natural, you know as well as I do Mum's enchanted the dishware to do the work for her." Harry chuckled lightly and nodded, before his mind became distant once again. "Tell me, Harry."

Harry looked up at her with the most fierce, scared look in his eyes. "I think she's trying to tell me something."