I don't own Harry Potter, and this is my first fan fiction. I am very proud of myself. Please review and let me know if you enjoyed it.
Set straight after the final chapter.
Harry, Ron and Hermione walked from Dumbledore's old office in silence. Harry began to sense an uncomfortable tension. Clearly feeling this as well, and blushing as red as his hair, Ron asked Harry where he was going.
"Why?" Harry responded at once, concealing a grin. It was Hermione who answered this time,
"I need to go to the library, and well, Ron's never been you know, so… if you don't mind Harry?"
Alone for the first time since Professor Snape's Doe, Harry ascended Gryffindor tower, and entered his old dorm room, his four poster bed, made up and inviting. With the creature in his stomach roaring proudly amongst jagged shards of grief, Harry began to shiver.
"Kreacher?" he spoke, and a clean, smiling elf appeared with a treacle tart.
"Master Harry, my dear Master Regulus would be proud" he stated, shaking with pride. The constant thanks and praise of the past hours, didn't measure to this unattested gratitude, and Harry was unable to speak, merely nodding. Kreacher went on "Master Harry, can I help you?" and wiping his eyes, Harry asked Kreacher for a sandwich, and Kreacher dissaparated with a pop.
Unable to sleep, Harry lay quietly. That elf had survived the inferi, caught Mundungus and survived two wars, yet the task of brining him a sandwich appeared too difficult. Grumbling, Harry began to get up, when suddenly the dorm door swung open.
"Treacle tart?" a vivid red head swung into the room, and placed a tray of sandwiches and treats on Ron's old bed. "How are you holding up, Harry" she asked, and falling into her breast he began to cry.
"I'm sorry about Fred, I am so sorry, this was my war and I wanted to protect you all. I love you"
"This was my war too" she said, her deep brown eyes, he realised were filled with sorrow. Clinging to her back, he could feel her soft skin, under her worn robes. She radiated warmth, her arms accepting him. Shaking, he began to recall how close he came to losing her, marvelled in her uncompromising magic skill and courage, yet even now she was the strength, holding him together. She didn't push for answers, just held him, knowing they had months, years even, to talk.
The very same tension filled the air again, as it had done only minutes earlier with Ron and Hermione. "I don't know what to do right now", Harry said leaning back on the pillows. "I have my whole life to me now, and I'm not sure I know what I want". Stretching like a cat she stood, and
"It's up to you, Harry" she said, bouncing off the bed.
Harry stood; he took her hands, and looked her deep in the eyes. Mustering all his courage, chivalry and daring nerve, as a free man he grazed his lips over her own. "Thankyou" he said. She looked at his inquisitively for a moment, before her daughter bounced into the room.
"Harry?" Ginny called as she walked in to the dorm, dressed only in her underwear. "Mummy?" she cried, dumbfounded.