The darkness of the dungeon was starting to get to him.
He felt ashamed, to say the least, considering how long Ginny and Draco had been trapped within the confines of those four walls. He glanced around, emerald hues taking in the sights around him; Ginny lay asleep on the floor across from him, she'd been injured and Hermione was hovering at her side. Draco was near her too, but was still and quiet, almost as if he too had drifted off to sleep. Ron was across the room, as silent as the rest of them, his face stormy and his eyes closed. He'd not spoken a word since his first few moments with Ginny- after that, he'd retreated to a corner and had fallen eerily silent.
It had been four days since they'd been brought down to the dungeon. He'd so stupidly mentioned Voldemort's name and the Snatchers had managed to grab them. And yet, he was so glad that he had. They might not have ever found Ginny here, had they themselves not been caught. His eyes fell back upon her and he felt his heart skip a beat. He'd nearly given up on finding her, he couldn't help it… They had searched for seven whole months with not even one single trace of her. It had been like she'd vanished off the planet itself. And she pretty much had. But there she was, not well, but alive all the same. Harry couldn't believe what she'd become, what Draco had become; mere ghosts.
The sight of her would haunt him forever.
[ x x x ]
He pulled himself from the memory, heart beating, turning to look across the room at where fast asleep on the bed was Ginny. First came a sigh of relief at the sight of her and he felt his heartbeat slow to a normal pace. Those memories… He thought he'd left them behind, but like with most things it crept up on him when he least expected it. The same for her, he'd caught her crying a few times over the course of time since then. Had caught her staring off into space. Had noticed when she was quieter than usual, or when she jumped at the softest of touches. They had come a long way since then, since the end of the war that was. Voldemort was dead and they were left to a world of peace. Harry hadn't really known what to do with himself once it was all truly over. It had been a hard adjustment, surprisingly. But here they were, nearly a year later, and everything was coming together for them.
They had married as soon as they'd had the chance; there'd been no huge spectacle, no crazy planning. It had been simple and wonderful, a day he'd never forget. The memory of her would be burned into his mind forever. It had been less than two months into their marriage when she'd come to him to tell him she was pregnant, a child of theirs would make his or her debut in seven short months. The prospect of being a father had both elated and terrified him; they were so young but he'd never felt more ready than he had the night she went into labor so unexpectedly, only a few short weeks ago. Their first child, a son named James Sirius, had made his way into the world a little early, but healthy and a carbon copy of his father, aside from his brown eyes which he'd inherited from Ginny.
He and Ron, true to their words, had taken up residence within the Auror department and within that first year Harry had become its department head. Despite the loss of Voldemort, not all of the Death Eaters had given up and those still free to the world continued to cause trouble. It would only be a matter of time before they'd caught them all though, Harry would see to it. He would ensure his family would always be safe.
A small smile turned up his lips and Harry got to his feet, crossing the room to stand at the bedside for a moment; she was a tangle of limbs and sheets, wearing nothing but one of his old t-shirts and her underwear. Her red hair fanned across her pillows, her head turned slightly to the right, exposing the soft, creamy flesh of her neck. Sliding onto the bed, Harry slid up beside her, his arms winding around her, pulling her close to him. She was warm and smelled of soap. His lips pressed against the curve of her neck, trailing across to her shoulder which had been exposed by the slipping of a t-shirt sleeve. She moaned softly, torn between sleeping and lust. "Harry…" Her sleepy vocals broke through the darkness and he laughed softly, loosening his hold on her so she could turn over to face him. "What time…?"
"It's late," he said, at least having the grace to sound apologetic, his brow arched ever so slightly. She laughed softly and it faded into a yawn, her nose scrunching up as it always did. "Sorry I woke you."
"No, you aren't," she said with a chuckle, reaching out a hand to brush away a stray lock of his raven hair; brown eyes met emerald and she felt her heart melting, as it always did when he looked at her that way. He was pulling her close again, his lips against hers in an instant, and she yielded to him. His arms were around her and she was amazed (as she always was) at how perfectly they fit together. As if they'd always been meant to be. "Harry…" She murmured his name as he drew back, his lips instead trailing kisses down her jaw line, earning him a soft moan telling him she was enjoying his actions. "Harry… maybe we shouldn't…"At once he was pulling back, looking so concerned that she could not help but to laugh. "Unless of course you want to risk making another one of those." She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder to where sure enough, nestled in his basinet, was a sleeping infant. "And I dunno about you, but I'm not sure I want another one so soon."
It was Harry's turn to laugh and he nodded, leaning in to kiss her one last time. He just could not help but to stare at her, breathe her in, remind himself that she was there. She must have noticed the look that fell into place on his face because suddenly her features softened and she reached a hand out to cup his cheek into her palm; it was warm and familiar. "I love you, Gin." He said softly, so softly she had to wonder if she'd only imagined the words. Her brown eyes closed and a single tear streaked her freckled cheek. He reached out, wiping away all traces with one swipe of his thumb. "Both of you." His gaze strayed towards the cradle at their bedside and he smiled, knowing he'd never tire of looking at them together. She nodded and a smile curled her lips upwards a moment before they met for one last time. Then she lay back against her pillow, turning onto her side, the blanket pulled up to her chin. Harry wrapped himself around her, one arm lazily draped over her hip, the other tucked away beneath his head.
A few minutes of silence and he knew that she'd fallen back asleep, as her breathing grew soft and even. As he closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift off as well, Harry thought of them, of their little family. He'd never imagined to be a father so young, to be married and working already. It was as if it'd been only yesterday that he'd placed the Sorting Hat upon his head and begun his first days at Hogwarts. He held onto her a little bit tighter, her warmth comforting in the darkness. Finally, they could be happy. Finally, they could be at peace.