"WE KILLED VOLDY,

YES WE DID,

MOLDY VOLDY, MOLDY VOLDY,

HE WILL NOW GROW MOLDY"

Harry covered his ears to block out the drunken revelry of his peers down in the Common Room, Seamus predictably having been the ringleader, with a bit of assistance from Peeves. He had collapsed on to the sheets of the bed he had now occupied for nearly 7 years on the 7th Year boy's dormitory of Gryffindor Tower.

He lay alone after a skirmish with the Dark Lord, that cowardly bastard. This was a first for Harry. Usually-and there were many times to draw examples from-he would have been rushed into the Infirmary and obsessed over by Madam Pomfrey. Usually, Ron, Hermione, or someone would be in the bed next to him, in a similarly injured state or at least sitting there to keep him company. This, however was not the usual time. This time he was barely maimed compared to many others, many others who were suffering and dead. For once, the infirmary had worst cases to deal with and Harry was hence overlooked. And moreover, his time he had come out victorious, he had finally brought down the remaining glory and life of Tom Marvolo Riddle, This time he emerged as a champion.

Meanwhile, Ginny snaked her way through the crowds of the Gryffindor Common Room. Having just lost a brother, she was not in the celebratory mood. Although she held sorrow for Fred, her main focus at the moment was another boy that held space in her heart: Harry James Potter. Fred was beyond mortal salvation, but Harry was still here. Harry needed her. And she needed Harry.

She ran up the stairs to the boys' dormitory, garnering not so much a notice from the intoxicated wassailers. She trod lightly in to her love's room to find him fast asleep on top of his bed, not even having bothered to remove those round glasses that were as recognizable a symbol of him as his trademark zig-zagged scar adorning his forehead.

She stood their for what could have been hours or days or perhaps even a life time and stared into his gorgeous eyes, beyond grateful that he was alive, he was OK, and he was finally home. Suddenly, something clicked in her as she remembered why she was there. He needed to be looked after.

She set out to removing his glasses, setting them aside on his bedside table before brushing his messy hair out of his face. He couldn't possibly be comfortable, in ragged jeans and a dirty t-shirt that had carried him-quite literally-to hell and back. There was no use in transfiguring his jeans-it would most definitely wake him and he might like those jeans as they are- and she didn't dare remove them. She did, however, carefully pull his shirt over his head and set it aside. Now was the matter of bedding- she wouldn't allow him to shiver on top of the covers and didn't want to move him

Ginny accio'd her favorite thing: a blanket she had knit with the help of her mother the summer before first year. It wasn't a spectacular piece, but it worked, it was cozy, and most of all, it was something she had made. She took the blanket and gingerly covered Harry with it. She could have just as easily conjured a blanket but it wouldn't be the same.

Having already scanned him for any sign of bruises or cuts and declared him in good shape-physically at least-besides a few small scrapes and such that she fixed with Episkey, Ginny now felt she had thoroughly fixed up all that she could.

She hovered over him filled with endless gratitude for his wellbeing. She placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and trailed down, nearing his lips, hesitating. She had resisted the Carrows and subjected herself to the Cruciatus Curse numerous times without so much a moment of hesitation, but here she was, afraid to kiss her love.

A little voice inside of her mocked and she gathered her courage and did what felt right: she kissed her love.

This is my first HP fic but I'm super excited to start it, as I've been a Potterhead since I could read. Anyways I'm open to any suggestions and comments (please do comment!). Thank you so much for reading and have a lovely day! xx