Prologue
The winds of winter had faded as a dream of spring grew. Mountains still held their beauty with a glimmer of snow along its side, the tree's started showing their life again as the snow fell and they were once again able to breathe. Beasts awoke from their long slumber of winter awaiting to stretch their legs and feel the power that was the dark forest.
It was an unwelcoming brisk morning as the mist concealed the morning sun providing little warmth as a woman found her way along the dark path. "It's here, I know it", the woman thought to herself as she made her way, carefully she remained silent as she knew the dangers of her whereabouts. The woman wore a long dark cloak with a hood concealing her face which she pulled further over her head as a cold chill grew down her neck. She stopped and looked north, then south, the spun around in a half circle, trying desperately to remember her steps, or possibly trace someone else steps..
She had heard the story more than once and was in the right location. "Lumos" she softly spoke, as a small beam of light cast out of her wand and held onto the tip providing a source of light. Looking to the early morning sky she breathed in the smells of the forest. The light morning dew on the plants and sounds of crickets filled the air as she savored the moment. These times were precious to her, as she rarely had a moment to invoke in nature or explore as she once did as a child. Glancing to her left she spotted something on the moist earth beneath her. It was quite a large footprint and it didn't take a magi-zoologist to know what had left it either. A Minotaur had left it well implanted, created a concrete feeling in the surrounding soil which remained moist and lush. Tracing her thin fingers against the dirt the grew a grin as she knew she was close. Taking down her hood she began running her fingers through the grass around the distinct foot print. It was soft and surprisingly not filled with morning frost, feeling through and crouching down to her knee's she used a small stone next to her to carefully pull some of the moist dirt up from around the foot print. Feeling through the mud and grass and sorting through and worms that may have been lifted though the ground she felt it and lifted the stone, Taken aback at its beauty and feeling excitement in her breathe, she starred in awe. Just as she thought, imagined and knew, it was there.
Chapter 1. Nightmares and architects
Dreams had always been an unexplained feeling of magic. To some it was an escape, a universe of our own to get lost in and evade all worry and doubt. For others it remained a void, like Alice falling through wonderland and seeking only for things to make sense. But dreams often do not make sense, if they did everyone would often live them out. For Harry though he did not feel like he was evading dread or seeing some prophetic mystery as so many wizards claimed to visualize. No, in Harry's dreams there were no caterpillars singing songs and smoking from a pipe or white rabbits with poor appointment setting skills. The dreams he experienced were set on his own life, his own dismay and sometimes his own happiness. He dreamed of the battle, the war as screams roared and cried heaved around him. He remembered running through the hallways fighting and feeling all adrenaline filter through him as he almost snapped his wand from holding it so tight. The war and final battle that ended the dark lord and took so much from everyone. Harry no longer felt fear of Tom Riddle, in fact he felt empathy that such a creature could fall so far. Tom had taken everything from him and his friends, his parents and countless others that Harry tried not to think of. Like all heroes he blamed himself and annoyed others with constantly apologizing and reminding them of how sorry he is for doing something that wasn't his fault. They always gave him the same look, and told him it's not his fault. Harry knew in his heart it wasn't his doing that drove Tom into the monster called Voldemort. Even confronting Mrs. Wesley and seeing her tears fall down her sunken cheeks as she held her boy, her baby boy, Fred. He died at far too young of an age and had too strong of a soul to have needed been taken away from his mother. In that memory she held him close and ran her hand through his coarse red hair, his hair had a darker shade of red than usual as his blood held a contrast that was now on his mothers hands. Harry could look no longer look as he saw his twin George hugging his best friends and brothers corpse. Fred was George's best friend, brother and was too be his best man as George had proposed to his long time girlfriend he had since the Yule ball. Remembering that moment was too much for Harry as he was violently shaken from this dread of sleep. Quickly opening his eyes and feeling that he had tears down his face he felt someone holding his hands, to both comfort him and possibly control him from hitting anything. "HARRY! Please wake up!" A voice called to him as he felt the soft hands now hold his face. The soft hands that smelt of lavender now moved to catch his tears as he continued to softly weep. "It's okay, I'm here, it's over". Grabbing her hands he kissed them, her hands were soft as silk as he regained control of his breathing. "You were having another nightmare decided to make it a longer one by waking up and bopping me in the face with those long arms of yours!". As his breathing slowed and he felt a cool breeze roll in through the open window he looked at her. The moonlight gleamed down on her shapely form, the moon was bright and was generous to Harry as it complimented her. Wiping any remaining tears and hoping to regain composure he said "Another nightmare..I..it's just", he began choking on his words as she shushed him. "I know and as tired as you are of hearing it, it's over and you are okay. Nightmares happen to us all and after everything that has happened in the past year alone it is not surprising". Harry looked down to his chest which was beaded in sweat. Standing up he grabbed a shirt off the floor and wiped himself and looked to the bed. It wasn't nearly as moist but he imagined it would leave an odor if not cleaned the next day. He took in a deep breathe as he looked down at the woman who was now sitting up and string at him. "I'm sorry baby, I will clean the sheets tomorrow". She looked at him and half smirked, "You know as surprised as I am at how much a man can sweat from a bad dream, I can't blame you. You've heard my nightmares and even fell off the bed from me screaming". Harry remembered each and every one of them. The terror in her eyes, tears streaming down her flushed face. In those moments in the past he'd cradle her and run his hands through he soft silky hair as she had done for him when his nightmares began. "Well if you ever plan on joining me in bed again that'd be great mister! Sweaty or not get in here and go to sleep!". He chuckled and saw her arms crossed as she sarcastically played at being mad at him. He then climbed backed and she cuddled him, holding him and wrapping her arms around him. "It feels good to be the little spoon for once" he thought to himself and grinned closing his eyes praying for morning.
Morning finally arrived as it made its introduction by shining itself in Harry's eye's, as he slowly tossed his head attempting to shield himself from the glaring light. Reaching towards his side nightstand and almost knocking over the lamp in attepting to do so he grabbed his glasses. "Really need to look into contacts or eye surgry" he said as he had to take them off again to get finger prints he generously left on there for himself to clean. Looking in the small room he saw his old Firebolt broom in the corner and poorly installed curtains which made little effort to block the morning breeze or ridiculously bright morning sun. Looking down at his watch he saw it was 9:13 AM. Not too early, maybe he could go for a jog or do a good morning stretch, then laughed at himself for thinking such silly things. Getting out of bed he put on his slippers which had one hole in the left shoe which made it convient for bumping against tables at night. Walking down stairs he smelled breakfast, bacon perhaps, or was it pancakes, in the end it didn't matter as he walked into the kitchen as saw the beauty preparing all this for him. Ginny stood there in nothing more than one of Harry's old school shirts, it went low enough to just hide her bum. She picked herself up on her tippie toes and grabbed what looked like cinamon and added it to the mixture. He leaned against the stair way and just watched her, admiring her fire red hair, the curls that ran down her shoulders. He loved her hair, it was a rarity seeing it as curly than when she first wakes up. For whatever reason she enjoyed waking up early and getting ready for her day, But today was not that day, she looked calm and peaceful as she hummed a song and mixed food spices like a potions master. Behind her at the table he saw she had already place two glasses with orange juice, next to it was the regular toast, jelly and butter scene. God she was too much, the Dursleys rarely fed Harry let alone make HIM anything special. That didn't matter though as he smiled and walked closer to Ginny whom he hoped to possibly spook. Before he could get to close though she startled him by saying "So are you going to help me or just stare at my arse all morning?". He laughed realizing he wasn't as sneaky as he had thought,"don't tempt me Gin you know I can". She quickly turned around and poked him in the side with a spatula. "Yeah well maybe you should go hug a womping willow she teased. Turning around he saw her perfect smile, with small dimples peaking on each side of her face. She however quickly noticed and blushed and went back to flipping an already over flipped pancake. "Get some plates and forks out hun, the pancakes and eggs will be done shortly". "Wow Gin I gotta hand it to ya, no magic in the kitchen?". She shot him a glare that made him gulp "Ya know just because I can't cook like my mother doesn't mean I cant cook" she laughed. Thank God your'e not your mother" he thought to himself as he looked to see she had not yet put on a bra. Placing napkins and forks down he waiting patiently as Ginny walked far too slowly to put food on the table. "Well dig in !". Before him was not breakfast, a few of the pancakes were burned and he could already smell the bacon slightly burning as Ginny ran to preserve any remaining bacon. He could care less though, the woman he loved and drove him crazy just made him food and that was enough to make him gulp it down and regret it later in the restroom.
After they had finished eating he always gave her the courtesy of cleaning the kitchen and making sure it would meet the Dursley's level of clean. Still didn't meet their standards he knew, but in the end it looked better than before. Cleaning was never something anyo- "Whoah there!" Harry exclaimed losing his thought as he felt a slight pinch on his bum. Almost dropping the dish and shattering the very expensive $13 plate they had received in the market. "What in the world are you doing girl, trying to give me a heart attack?". Ginny giggled and grabbed the dish and started helping dry, "well unlike you when I see something I like I grab it", she winked at him knowing it killed him seeing that adorable look on her. She then kissed him, perhaps longer than what a fresh bacon morning breath kiss usually lasted, she hugged him holding him tight as he knew she was most likely doing all this due to his rough night previously. She let go of their kiss and stepped back and said "Now I know what you're thinking...and no I did not make you that delicious meal because you nearly wet the bed in sweat last night. I did it for me!". She said trying to make him feel better and not let his self blame lead to another guilt trip. "Psh I know" said Harry, trying to look confident, which of coarse in front of Ginny never worked due to her seeing right through him and surprisngly still giving him butterflies over the strangest things. As she walked towards their small living room onto the old couch the Wesleys had graciously donated, she curled up in a big blue quilt her mother had made for her some Christmas ago. Looking like a cute redheaded kitten ready for a nap already so early in the day he went over and cuddled next to her. His head resting agaisnt her breast, he always wondered if it hurt having a huge bulbous head laying agaisnt you. He had heard from Fred and George that breast were sensitive and always tried to take care to remember these little things. He played with one of her small hands and looked at each cute finger. While her hands were soft and adorable they were also callused and her right one managed to have a bruise. Quiditch did that to you though, and while Harry may have taken a break, she sure as hell didn't. She remained on top as Grifindors best female Quiditch player since- well he didn't know whom, but she was probably pretty damn good. Playing with his hair she felt his forhead, tracing her fingers over where his scar once was. "You can try rubbing my forehead for good luck I don't mind" Harry said. "No stupid..I..I just like seeing if I can feel the scar is all, never can but still".