Author's Note: This was written after I sketched Harry Potter after the Battle of Hogwarts.
Disclaimer: I'm just a fanfiction author, not J. K. Rowling.
Harry reached the 7th year's Gryffindor dormitory and pushed the door open, noting the two perfectly made beds side-by-side—his and Ron's.
"Ha," he held a hand to his head, absentmindedly tracing the scar with a couple fingers, "Thanks, you guys." It could have been September 1st for the way their end of the room looked, and even one other bed—Dean's. If he didn't see himself in the full-length mirror, scraggly and even more unkempt than ever, a bruise on his face, a cut on his nose, and the start of a beard and mustache... it could have been any other night. If he didn't have any of the memories from the past year in his mind, those of defeating Voldemort, losing Fred, Lupin, Tonks, and so many others. Knowing that Severus Snape had been on his side for his mum since the moment Voldemort had started hunting her down…
He fell back onto his four-poster bed, his head hitting the pillow, and he could only stare at the ceiling of it, the red curtains. He felt exhausted, but with his mind whirring on and on without end, he turned on his side and stared out of the castle window.
The sun continued to come up, a sign that the world kept moving on even through all of the death and destruction that had come to visit Hogwarts in the night. Harry took off his glasses and placed them on the nightstand, rolling over so most of his face was in the pillow.
"Hey, mate, aren't trying to suffocate yourself, are you?"
Harry turned around and sat up, not even needing his glasses to know who had spoken. He ruffled his hair without even realizing it, watching the blurry figure with red hair go over to his own bed.
"No, just trying to see if I could fall asleep. Seems impossible right now."
"Yeah, don't think it is unless you take a potion…"
Harry reached over for his glasses and put them on; Ron had his elbows resting on his thighs, one hand supporting his chin while he gazed out onto the grounds. Several cuts ran across his face from curses and hexes thrown his way during the battle, and he also sported a black eye.
"Ron, y'know, if I could…" he searched for the right words, gripping the side of his head as images of Fred flashed before his eyes, "Hell, I can't imagine what George—"
But Ron cut him off, head jerking around to look at him, his blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. He pointed a finger at him, "Don't blame yourself, Harry; it's not your bleedin' fault, and I'll keep telling you that until you believe it. It's Voldemort's fault, that's who, and he's dead, so stop killing yourself over every single death. That's war for you, mate. I miss Fred, I do, and George…" Ron lowered his head, his voice cracking in an emotion that surprised even Harry, "George won't ever blame you, either. You're family to us, Harry," his head came back up with a resolve in his eyes, "and if you ever blame yourself again, don't think I won't tell George." He almost grinned then, "Even by himself, the pranks he can think up… I can't even imagine."
Harry smiled, and it felt… strange. But he saw that it made Ron smile, too, "Good, you're doing better already, mate. Now, actually, I came up here to—"
They both heard someone stomping up the circular staircase, "Ron!"
"Ginny," he and Ron said at the same time.
"We're coming, you impatient little—" Ron was silenced by Ginny's quick wand work as she came into the dormitory. Harry stifled a bout of laughter behind his hand, though his eyes still smiled up at her.
"Hi, Harry," she said, pocketing her wand. Ron raised his arms up and, looking like an idiot, grabbed onto the sleeve of her school robe while mouthing unheard words. Harry could guess at what he was trying to say, though.
"All right, all right, Ron," and Ginny pulled her wand out once more so he could speak and be heard again.
Ron pushed himself off his bed and gave them both a look before disappearing behind the door. They listened to his footsteps bang down the staircase, Ginny barely holding back her giggles as Harry pulled her down to sit beside him.
He took a stray strand of hair and brushed it out of her face, "Hey, Ginny." She turned towards him, and not even knowing quite how it happened until he felt it, Harry kissed her. Her hand came around the back of his head and grabbed hold of a clump of hair, and even though he felt like he could on for a while… He gave her one last peck for the moment, grinning bashfully as he pulled away.
"Sorry, but… you didn't come up here just for a snogging session, did you?"
Ginny slid a hand down one side of her face, doing a horrible job of hiding her blush, "No, actually I came up to tell you and Ron that Mum and the others are waiting, as the celebration feast is about to begin. But the snog wasn't a bad bonus." She winked at him and stood up, pulling him along by both hands.
Halfway to the door, she stopped, turning around to look at him. "Hmmm…"
"What?" Harry asked, looking down at himself. "What, Ginny?"
"You should change, Harry."
"Why?"
"At least your shirt, and…" she was over at his wardrobe, and just as he was about to tell her that she wouldn't find anything in there, she opened it and one pair of the Gryffindor uniform was hanging inside.
"Probably one of Neville's or Seamus's, but it'll do," she pulled out a dress shirt, a grey button-up vest to put over it, and the Gryffindor tie. "I'll be waiting for you in the common room." She left him holding a hand to the spot on his cheek where she had just kissed him.
With a newfound energy inside him, Harry took off his traveling robe and torn t-shirt, tossing them onto his rumpled up bed. He put on the white school shirt, buttoned it up, and then positioned the tie just right before using his wand to tie it. He didn't want it perfect, though, so he pocketed his wand and loosened it a little bit. Once he had the vest on, Harry looked at himself again in the mirror, deciding it would only be in vain for him to try and flatten his hair out.
With the hope that he wouldn't have to make some sort of speech this soon, Harry walked down the stairs and out into the common room where he found Ginny just as she had promised.
"Ready?" she asked as he walked over to her, placing a kiss on top of her head.
"As I'll ever be."
They walked down to the Great Hall in an easy silence except for every time a portrait congratulated and thanked him. And every time, Ginny pointed out his embarrassment after they were out of hearing range of the portrait, to which he either stuck his fingers in his ears to shut out her voice, or silenced her with a speedy peck on the lips. They both preferred the latter, because who knew when they'd next get a moment to themselves again.
The Great Hall was filled with voices, but it wasn't the same as the cheerful cacophony that Harry was used to during the Welcoming Feasts. When he and Ginny entered, several heads turned to look at them; Harry noticed that he was holding Ginny's hand, but made no move to let go.
"Do they expect a speech?" he whispered in her ear.
"No."
He felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
They found their seats across from Ron and Hermione; Hermione rolled her eyes at them as Ron said hi with his mouth full, as usual. Molly Weasley sat a few seats down, and Harry looked over at her only to see that she was shaking her head at him, "Harry, dear, why don't you get Madam Pomfrey to fix you up?"
"Might get her to help this cut along," he pointed to his nose, "but… I think I'll let the bruises heal on their own time." He shrugged, "I just… after all that's happened, a few bruises are nothing. I can deal with them."
Molly clicked her tongue admonishingly but relented. Harry turned his attention back to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, reaching out for some of the delicious food in the middle of the table. As he started to eat, he took a look around the Great Hall, trying to picture it whole again. Ginny seemed to notice, and he looked back at her, and then to her hand that rested on his leg. He smiled at her, wincing only a little at the pain in his left eye—probably just a bruise that hadn't yet shown up.
"You okay, Harry?" Ginny asked.
Harry hesitated, knowing that he wouldn't really be "okay" for a while to come… but, right at this moment? He looked from her to Ron and Hermione, to the rest of the Weasleys, to Neville and Luna and his professors and everyone else near him… They were alive. There had been casualties, yes, but Voldemort was finally gone for good…
He cleared his throat and smiled again as he answered her, "As okay as I can be, Ginny."