Pointless HG fluff that may possibly turn into yet another "nineteen years after" story, yay!
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It was two days after the technical end of the war and Voldemort's death, and the castle had finally settled into a state of something that could best be described as sorrowful excitement. While a good majority of people were mourning the loss of loved ones, everyone was still buzzed with the knowledge that the most evil wizard in modern history had finally been defeated.

This emotional state could be applied to Harry as well, who was lying on his back in his trusty old four-poster as he had for the past couple of days; arms behind his head, glasses on, and eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. He wasn't remotely ready to face the entire outside world yet – Hogwarts had been bad enough, where he had been bombarded by joyful friends and questioning teachers, who had so far managed to keep outsiders away from the school. Plus, he didn't have anywhere to go except possibly the Burrow, the place where, for once, he just really didn't want to be. There would be too much sadness regarding Fred's death, and he couldn't face that. Not yet, anyway.

Still, he knew he couldn't stay in the warm, plush sheets of his bed forever, however much he wanted to sink into said sheets, melt away from the world and just forget everything bad that had happened over the past few months.

His wish was half granted when the door creaked open and his nose caught the familiar floral scent that would be forever embedded into his senses as her: Ginny. Her small feet padded to the left side of the bed, and as she sunk in beside him he felt the tension roll off his shoulders. It was the first time he had spoken directly to her, let alone be with her by himself, since that tragic, amazing night. Now all he could think about was her, even though they were still separated by a good six inches of mattress.

They were both silent before she broke the spell. "Hi," she murmured quietly.

Harry took a deep breath. The gloomy timbre in her voice nearly broke him, bringing a lump to his throat. He wanted nothing more than to bury his face in that long sheet of sweet-smelling hair and apologize for everything. For leaving her, for Fred…just everything.

"Hey," he replied.

Ginny turned on her side, facing him now. Harry chanced a glance at her and noticed that her eyes were faintly rimmed with red, though from crying or lack of sleep he could not tell. Maybe both, perhaps. He knew Ginny hated crying, on account of that it made her feel weak, vulnerable, the things she had learned not to be growing up with six brothers. His train of thoughts was broken by her voice.

"I know you're probably tired of hearing this, but can I ask how you are?" she asked slowly.

The corners of Harry's mouth twitched upward, the closest thing that had come to a smile in a couple of days. "All things considered," he paused, took another deep breath, "bad."

There really was no better way to put it. His body ached from the physical and mental exertion it had been through, emotionally he felt guilty, drained of all happiness and joy, despite the killing of Voldemort. Even the brightly shining sun, which he had not been in for quite some time, couldn't get his spirits up.

Ginny huffed a little laugh, and the sound was like music to his ears, little and incomplete though it was. "At least you're being honest. Mum said you gave her the old 'fine.'"

"Yeah, well, you're different." He had said the words a hundred times before, but never had they meant so much. She was different, and that was exactly why he felt so comfortable telling her the honest truth.

She reached out and touched his elbow. The physical contact sent tiny shivers down the back of his neck, and he couldn't help but scoot a little closer.

"So I've been told," she said, smiling a bit.

At that Harry himself actually grinned. It was refreshing to be poked fun at instead of swamped with suffocating hugs and congratulations. She kept her distance without being too far away, too cold. They were almost touching now, facing each other, and Harry could tell she was waiting for him to make the first move of full contact. When he could stand it no longer, he shuffled to her, resting his head in the crook of her warm, freckled neck. Her left hand went to his freshly cut hair (he had received the cut the night before after Hermione had lightheartedly pointed out that he needed one), while he right arm went around her waist. He breathed in deeply, inhaling her scent, and then nuzzled his nose into her neck once again.

"Tell me everything, Harry," she whispered, stroking her fingers through the thick black strands of long-but-not-too-long hair. "Start at the beginning, at the start of the last school year."

And he did. Every detail he could possibly remember he told her. From Dumbledore's first "lesson" and the specifics of the Horcruxes, all the way to the revival of his parents, Lupin, and Sirius, he spilled it to her willing ears. She did not interrupt with gasps of horror or questions as other people would, but she was simply there, listening and hearing the facts, not what she wanted to hear.

She was different.

When he had finished the tale there was a short pause before he confessed quietly, "I thought about you Gin. Every single day, I swear I did. It even got to the point where I would look at the map and just stare at your name and wish that you would know that I was thinking of you."

She smiled a gently, girly smile that she rarely found occasion to use. "You want to know something?" she said quietly. "I knew you were thinking of me. Or at least I was really, really hoping you were." She paused, then giggled. "Don't we just sound like a sappy romance novel? All we need to do now is confess our undying love for each other and ride off into the sunset on horse – "

Harry cut her off with a gentle kiss to her lips, followed by feather light pecks to the corner of her mouth, jaw, and down the column of her neck.

"I love you Gin," he said lowly. "I know that we're only seventeen, but…I've never loved anyone or really, truly had anyone who loved me except Sirius, and I'm pretty sure that even though this whole thing is new to me, it definitely falls under the 'love' category."

Ginny laughed, the sound practically forcing his lips to form smile, and he hid his face once again in her neck. "Well guess what, Harry? Even though you always feel the need to explain yourself, always seem to find trouble, and still somehow charm the pants off of everyone in your life," she paused, ducking her nose down to nudge his face up so she could kiss him once again, "I'm pretty sure I love you too."

And with that started the beginning of Harry and Ginny's new, different life together.