Chapter one – The Tears I've Cried

Harry stood there, his wand gripped in his hand. The room was dead silent, and the light from the moon illuminated through the cracks of the covered windows.

His hands remained covered in blood, and his body bared the wounds of the battle. But the pain hadn't sunk in yet, he felt nothing; nothing at all, really.

He had finally done it, the task he had been destined to complete. The curse that had overpowered his life since that day so many years ago seemed to be lifted, and the man that caused him, and so many others, so much pain, now lay dead at his feet.

Lord Voldemort had been defeated.

Harry's breathing grew heavier. His heart breathed satisfaction, his mind in a trance. There would be no more pain, and no more misery. No more living in fear, wondering what horrors awaited you around every corner. Wondering whether those you loved had met their fate, or had lost their immunity to the Dark Lord's power.

He couldn't find the strength to move, the ability to feel seemed to have left him. He didn't want to go upstairs, to reveal that the deed had been done. For up there he faced another reality, one that above all else he wanted no knowledge of.

Despite the victory that had just been achieved, many that were not meant to be lost, were now gone forever. Those who didn't deserve such an end now ceased to exist.

The trio had heard word that some of their school mates hadn't made it through the war. Neville Longbottom, they had been told, had almost met the same fate as his parents. His relationship with Harry had earned him the interrogation from a group of death eaters, who grew furious when he bravely refused to lead them to Harry. For his death, Harry blamed only himself.

He always blamed himself for everything.

If he hadn't of survived that night eighteen years ago, things would never have been how they were. It would have ended with him. They both would have been destroyed, and the world would have been at peace.

But it was love that had saved him, or cursed him, whichever. It was the power of love that had kept him alive, providing him with what little protection he had been offered. And in the end, it had been the power the Dark Lord knew not that had kept him from giving in. That had won the battle.

It was Harry's love for Ginny, and the loved they shared together that had given him the courage he needed. All he wanted was to protect the ones he loved, and he loved Ginny more than anyone.

Despite all of her desperate tries and her determination to go with Harry, she had stayed behind throughout the war. Harry had wanted it this way. As much as he hated being apart from her, he knew the danger he would be putting her in if she were to come. And he wouldn't have been able to live with himself if she had been one of the ones lost. He had lost too many people already.

Harry blinked trying to erase the thought of loosing her from his mind; his worries were now needless. Though, he still wanted to think nothing of them. The thought of loosing her was too painful. Way too painful.

"I'm coming, Ginny." He whispered through the silence.

Harry forced the nightmares of the past out of his mind, and began to picture her face within his head. Her hair, that Harry loved nothing more than running his fingers through. And those eyes, those gorgeous eyes that were always so full of life and excitement. Though, when he had left, they had only been filled with regret and sadness. He wanted nothing more than to be able to return, and wipe those feelings and fears away from her forever; to make her happy again.

Above the stench of his surroundings, he could smell the scent of her fiery red hair. Flowers, he had always thought. Whatever it was, however, it had always made his heart stop, send shivers up and down his spine. It was his favorite scent in the world. It meant she was with him, near him, close to him.

Harry looked down at Voldemort one last time as the ability to move returned to him. There was no time to prepare for what lie ahead, there was only to move forward. To walk through that door and leave the past behind him; to go home.

Ignoring the throbbing pain he felt in his leg, and throughout his whole body, Harry walked over to the door and grabbed the handle. With a new sense, a new feeling of closure, he opened it.

The ground was covered with the remains of battle, and the smell of blood and death embraced the air.

He rounded the corner of the corridor and painfully moved himself up the staircase. The silence that had echoed around him was broken, and the familiar voices of his best friends filled the air.

They survived… Harry thought, as a smile unconsciously crept upon his face.

"...Why hasn't…Harry…come back…" Hermione gasped in between her moans of discomfort. "Something… something has happened. I…I know it…" she mumbled.

"He'll be back." Ron whispered to her. "It's too quiet, if something would have gone wrong, if Harry had been…if he was…" he couldn't finish the sentence. Harry allowed another smile to creep upon his face as he shook his head.

"I would have thought you lot would have learned to trust me by now." Harry exclaimed, startling the two of them. They turned abruptly at the sound of Harry's voice.

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked. Instinctively she tried to jump up, but was quickly brought back down to the floor. Between the injuries she had just received and Ron's tight grasp upon her, she wasn't going anywhere.

"Easy, Hermione." he replied. He turned his head to Ron, who nodded slowly signaling that Hermione would in the long run be all right.

"Just happy you made it through that one, mate. It got pretty nasty up here." Ron commented, returning his attention back to Hermione.

"Yeah, somehow…" Harry mused. Hermione stared at him.

"Don't talk that way, Harry." She instructed, studying his appearance. Harry shrugged his shoulders and smiled at them. He didn't care how cross Hermione got with him at the moment; she and Ron were alive, and that was all Harry cared about.

"What happened, Harry?" Ron asked, moving a piece of Hermione's hair out of her eyes. Harry took a deep breath and walked over to where his friends lay and carefully seated himself next to them.

"A group of death eaters came through the hallway and surrounded us," Ron continued. "We couldn't do anything. Hermione shot a good number of hexes at them, but it didn't do much damage. We only managed to get a few of them, the others just left – just ran off." Harry nodded as the pieces began to slowly come together.

"They knew." Harry mumbled more to himself than to the others. Hermione eyed him carefully.

"We saw you go through the door, Harry." She reminded him. "You knew what was down there." Again, Harry nodded.

"I had a feeling…" his voice grew grave. "He was waiting for me."

Hermione couldn't argue. Instead, Ron continued.

"Before they left we heard these screams. Like they had been destroyed or something, it was really weird. We thought we had heard you calling us, heard your voice above everything but then everything started to shake, the ground began to move and this light…"

"No wand can destroy its brother." Harry replied, indifferently.

"You distracted him, then." Hermione interrupted. "Used the connection to your advantage, like you did before." Harry nodded once again, trying to shake the images of the last time out of his head. Ron looked up at him.

"Did you see your mum and dad again, then?" he asked cautiously. "Did they tell you what to –"

"No." Harry spat out firmly. "I didn't see them this time." Ron and Hermione grew silent. Harry didn't want to think of that now.

"So, you lot are okay, then?" He asked firmly, changing the subject.

"I'm all right, for the most part." Ron assured him. "But Hermione, on the other hand –"

"I'm fine Ronald!" she insisted, trying to force herself up again; Biting her lip to restrain from complaining from discomfort. "See?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Stubborn as always." Hermione grimaced at him.

"Come on, we need to get you home." Harry instructed, painfully lifting himself up and reaching down to help support Hermione.

"But what about you, Harry? You look horrid…" she argued. Harry shook his head.

"I've had worse." He reminded her. "Now up. We've got to get out of here, at least."

"But what about Voldemort?" Hermione questioned, refusing to take hold of his hand. "Where's he run off to this time?" She eyed him carefully. "We can't just leave now in the middle of the –" Harry let out a deep breath.

"– It's over, Hermione." Harry interrupted, allowing a smile of pride to spread upon his face. Hermione stared at him.

"Over?" she asked, her eyes slowly filling with realization. "You mean that…down there…you did….he's really –"

Harry shook his head at Hermione, amused.

"Yes. Over." He laughed. "Now up with you."

Harry helped Hermione to her feet and allowed her to wrap her arm around his shoulders. Ron followed suit and grabbed hold of Hermione's other side. Harry was weak himself, but knowing that everything was done, that what he had been running from all his life was no longer chasing him, gave him strength he never knew he even had.

"Come on, let's go home." He said, and apparated the three of them to the Burrow.

Ginny lay restlessly upon her bed. No doubt it would be another sleepless night, lying awake while the rest of the burrow fought desperately for sleep to come to them. She, however, seemed to be having the most trouble.

Above the silence, her heart jumped suddenly as a tap came from her window. Her head turned hopefully towards the darkened glass only for the brief hope that had crossed her mind to be drowned away. It had been the rain, nothing more.

Where are you, Harry? she thought to herself. Come home…

Some time later she found herself down in the kitchen. She hadn't even realized she had moved; lately it was if she had been living her entire life in a trance. The world moving quickly by her and she dare not take a step forward.

She had begun to loose track of time. Had it been a year? Two years? Or had it been simply a couple of hours since Harry had left? Had it been a lifetime and she was stuck in the past? She didn't know.

Ginny poured herself a drink and rounded the corner into the family room. To a point, she enjoyed her nightly wanderings. While the rest of the household dreamt of better times, she held the house on her own. Not having to put on a happy face for everyone; pretend she was all right when she wasn't.

She laid down on the couch and seated the glass on the side table. For what felt like hours, she stared into the flames burning within the fireplace. Observing them dance and move with such grace between one another.

Her thoughts seemed to be flowing between the past and the present. Back to a time where she was happy, where she didn't hide herself from the world. Sure, things hadn't ever really been perfect, but they had been close enough. When Harry had been here, everything else seemed to go away.

Yes, when Harry was here.

But he wasn't. And she had no idea as to when he was going to return. Or even if he would. She had promised she'd wait for him, but she didn't want to have to wait forever. She would, of course. Ginny had no doubt about that. But she couldn't imagine having to, the thought was simply too painful.

The memory of their final moment together shot through Ginny's mind, stabbing her heart like a knife. She bit her lip and closed her eyes tightly, preventing the tears from falling once more…

"You don't have to do this, Harry. This isn't fair that you should have to leave –"

"-Nothing about this is fair, Ginny. Nothing! But I have no choice, don't you understand? I'm the only one that can defeat him."

"But you don't have to do this alone! You shouldn't have to!"

"I wont be alone, Ginny. Ron and Hermione are coming -"

"-But I can help you, be there for you –"

"-I'm not taking you to your death, Gin! That's all you'll find out there!"

"I don't care, Harry! What if I never see you again? What if you don't come home?"

"I'm not going to die, Ginny. The three of us are going to be fine –"

"How can you promise me that, Harry? How? You know as well as I do that your chances of coming home are small! How can you possible tell me that…that thing won't do the same thing to you he's done to everyone else! To your mum and dad, Harry-"

"- I have no choice –"

"- To Cedric Diggory, to Sirius –"

"- Ginny, calm down –"

"- To The Order, to Dumbledore!" Harry froze.

"Harry, Harry please, no. Harry…Harry I didn't mean…Harry please…"

Harry shut his eyes tightly and turned away, shoving his hands in his pockets and throwing up his hood.

"Harry, Harry please come back! Harry!" Ginny was begging him, shouting after him as he headed for the doorway. The tears fell from her eyes as her knees collapsed upon the floor.

He was gone, swallowed into the darkness of the night.

"I'll wait for you!" she cried after him, as the rain from the door flew in upon the kitchen floor.

"I promise…"

"Ginny? Ginny, dear?"

Ginny jumped abruptly as her mother's familiar voice brought her out of her thoughts. She turned her head behind her and met her mother's gaze.

"I'm fine, mum." She replied, turning back to the flames. Mrs. Weasley sighed and pulled her nightgown tight against her chest. She walked over to the couch and seated herself beside her daughter.

"This isn't good for you, Ginny." She began, staring down at the floor. "You haven't slept in weeks." Ginny leaned back against the couch and nodded slowly.

"I know." She said indifferently. Mrs. Weasley let out a deep breath and moved closer to her.

"You need to try and move on, dear. Try to get your life back –"

"- And how am I supposed to do that, mum? How? I can't do anything until he comes home! I can't think, can't sleep, can't breathe…"

Mrs. Weasley bit her lip and took her daughters hand in hers.

"What if he doesn't come back, Ginny? I can't take watching you do this to yourself anymore."

Ginny stared at her mother, a million thoughts echoing through her mind. She pulled her hand out of her mothers and leaned towards the edge of her seat.

"How can you say that, mum? How? How can you say they aren't coming back?"

"Ginny, dear. I'm as afraid as you are, and I miss them just as much as you do but we can't spend our lives –"

"- No!"

Ginny shot up from the couch and walked to the doorway.

"Maybe you can't mum, but I have to! I have to believe they're coming home. That he's coming home!" Ginny shouted at her mother before throwing herself up the staircase.

Up in her room Ginny slammed her door shut and ran to her desk. She rummaged frantically through her drawers searching for something, anything, to hold on to. Something that reminded her of him, of their time together.

"Where are you?" she whispered to herself. "Where are you?" The tears that she had tried so hard to hold inside began to escape her eyes as her fingertips found what they had been looking for.

"Harry…" she whispered.

The photograph bore the remains of one of the last times she remembered being happy. That she and Harry had truly been together. They were at Hogwarts, the sun was setting behind them reflecting across the black lake. They were curled up together against their favorite tree, along the water's edge. No doubt they had been there for hours, rather than studying for the finals they would never even have to take. In the distance fellow students were walking along the castle walls, enjoying the last couple hours of their Sunday evening. Harry lifted his hand and caressed her face so delicately before pulling her chin up so their lips could meet. A quick kiss, as if they were to do it the for rest of their lives. A smile filled both of their faces as Ginny leaned down against his chest entangling her fingers within his and staring out into the sunset.

Ginny bit her lip as a tear fell silently upon the glass. She lifted her hand to clear it away, tracing the outline of his smiling face with her fingertips.

"I love you, Harry." She whispered.

From the hallway she heard her mother's footsteps make their way down farther to her own room. Ginny didn't move, didn't blink. As if the picture were to disappear if she took her eyes off it for a split second, and it would fade just as her memories would through time.

Through the silence of the night a faint pop echoed across the burrow. Ginny's eyes flashed up to the crack in her window, scanning the darkness.

She knew the sound all too well. An apparition, it had to be. But who would be apparating here in the middle of the night? Surely if it were from the ministry or the Order they would have used the Floo Network. Unless…

Her eyes flashed back down to the picture, then back up to the window.

Get a hold of yourself Ginny…

But she ignored her own thoughts, cautiously sitting the frame upon her bed and standing up. She crept over to the window and peered into the night.

She scanned the burrow carefully, scrutinizing every shadow that crossed her eyes. And then she heard the whispers that sounded all too familiar.

"No…inside….asleep…" she made out. Confusion overthrew her as she leaned closer towards the window straining to hear more.

"Morning…honestly…too weak…"

"No!" the voice came louder, a man's voice. She heard the other figures try to silence him as they stood at the edge of the garden.

I know that voice… she thought to herself, straining her eyes to make out the figures.

"Its nearly morning…sleep for a while…they should be…matter of hours…" their voices were becoming louder, but Ginny no longer needed confirmation. She knew who they were, that it was not her mind creating yet another illusion of her heart's desire.

Without thinking, she turned around and threw open her door. Within a matter of seconds she was down the stairs, running through the darkened kitchen and fumbling with the lock.

She heard their footsteps from the other side drawing near, whispers turning louder.

"Just be quiet, will you? I don't want mum to be the first to see us, she'll have kittens. Wake up the entire Wizarding world, she would."

"Honestly, Ronald." She heard Hermione groan.

"He has a point, Hermione. You shouldn't even be here; you should be at St. Mungos. If it weren't for the interrogation we'd get had we gone there first we would have. We need Mr. Weasley to hush them up for at least an hour, to get our strength back…"

Ginny couldn't take it anymore she turned the handle and pushed open the door exposing herself to the night. The three figures in front of her silenced, freezing dead in their tracks. Ginny stared at them, in awe letting the tears of happiness fall down her cheek freely.

He was home.