The world is quiet. Cricket chirps fill the night, the Black Lake's light crashes of water accompanying them. In the midst of the beautiful landscape is a castle of equal magnificence, despite the fact that it is partially destoryed. The grand windows are dark, its occupants silent. The scene is still. It is almost as if there was no bloody battle here.
On the banks of the lake is a boy, his back pressed to a nearby tree. His emerald eyes are trained on the reflective waters, his arms wrapped around his knees. He seems lost in thought. He pays no attention to his surroundings. It is as if he isn't here to begin with.
The boy picks a single pebble from the dewy grass. In one swift and fluid move, he sends it skipping across the otherwise undisturbed lake.
"Couldn't sleep either?" a voice asks quietly, causing him to jump. After he sees his company, he relaxes.
"Does it show?" he says sardonically with a bitter laugh.
"Well, kind of." He shifts to his left a bit, therefore providing room for his new companion. "You know, Harry, I thought you'd be in your dorm getting some sleep."
Quite forcibly, Harry tosses another stone across the slight waves. "I'll be fine. How 'bout you, Ginny? Not going to bed?"
Ginny sighs, and she shrugs indifferently. "I'll be fine," she mocks.
"So what brings you out here on this fine evening?" She rolls her eyes.
"Looking for you, I guess." Harry chances a glance at her, but just for a moment. Naturally, Ginny caught it. "You should start hiding that map better."
Another rock flies. "I didn't think anyone else would be awake."
"Well, here we are." The two teenagers fall into an emotionless silence. Both keep their eyes on the glistening waters. Ginny closes hers, and she focuses on nature's sounds. She internally relishes the freedom that she has been kept from for years.
"So what're you really here for?" Harry's inquiry snaps her back to reality.
"To talk to you," she replies. From the corner of her eye, she watches him as he looks at her.
"About what?"
She shrugs again. "How about life? We haven't gotten around to that much lately."
Harry chuckles at the simple topic. "Alright, go ahead."
"Why'd you go?" Ginny asks immediately. He quirks a brow.
"To defeat Riddle," he responds lamely, resulting in a sudden punch in the arm. "What was that for?"
"I know there's more," Ginny says firmly. "I'm not stupid."
Harry frowns. "I never said you were."
"You implied it, you dishrag! If I'm not so dumb, then why won't you tell me everything?" Ginny stares at him, her jaw clenched. There is no way you are going to get away without answering, she thinks to herself.
"It's complicated," Harry says. He runs a hand through his hair.
"Try me."
"Really, Gin. It's not that important." The peaceful night is disrupted by a resounding slap. Ginny glares at Harry, who now has a cheek that is crimson, with a fury that he doesn't return.
"It is to important!" she exclaims. "Harry James Potter, don't you dare say that to me! You just took off out of nowhere, and you're telling me that it's not important?!"
"Ginny, I-" He is promptly cut off.
"You ran around the country with a death threat pinned to your back!" she screeches.
"Please-"
"You didn't even bother to try and contact anyone!"
"GINNY!" Harry all but yells. Ginny falls silent, her face angry and red. Her chest heaves against her knees as she stuggles for breath. Any other day, she'd shut the hell up and listen, but this is no ordinary day. To her, this is the hour in which Harry Potter is finally told of his destruction.
"You left without saying goodbye," she speaks in a solemn, quivering voice. "You left me without saying goodbye! For months, I scutinized every damn paper I could find just for a word on you. I lived knowing that you could wind up dead at any given moment. I ran behind the backs of murderers so I can salvage the DA, so I could be ready if you ever needed me."
Harry studied Ginny, her words nailing him hard. He realizes that he was foolish, stupid even. He realizes that he only considered how nobility's consequences endangered himself, not others. As he watches her, he takes note of her watering brown eyes. But, of course, they don't spill. No, Ginny Weasley never cries. Ever.
She shakily gulps down a breath before whispering, "I thought you were dead."
A single teardrop glides down a freckled cheek, any blood or grime in its path clearing. Harry carefully raises a thumb, and he swipes it off. He watches Ginny's shoulders as they shake, her head bowing. He doesn't have to see to know that she has cracked, that she is crying. He scoots towards her, and, despite being the source of her hardships, he wraps his arms around her.
"I don't know what to say," Harry mutters as Ginny buries her face in her hands.
"Then don't say anything at all."
Harry tightens his hold as if he can absorb her pain. He attempts to still her, but to no avail. He places a finger on her chin, tilting her head up. Gently, he wipes the flood from Ginny's (in his opinion) beautiful face. She sniffles.
"You can't fix everything, Harry," she croaks. His gazes averts to her bruised knuckles and scraped palm that rests on the grass. "You can't always fix what's hurting."
After drying the last of her tears, Harry carefully holds her marred hand. Ever so lightly, he kisses the shallow cut. He kisses every bruise in turn before switching to her other hand. Due to a minor case of paranoia, he never does so with excessive pressure in fear that he may hurt her. But she isn't some fragile doll, he reminds himself.
Harry pecks the scabs and marks on her neck, trailing up to her cheeks. He kisses her forehead, her nose, her eyelids after she allows them to flutter shut.
For a few seconds, her eyes still closed, Ginny feels nothing but her own beating heart. Harry hasn't left, she knows that. If he had, then she wouldn't be feeling what she is now. She pleads herself to forgive him. To let go of what he has done to her. But, like she has stated previously, he can't fix everything. The recent battle has taken its physical and emotional toll on her. To tell the truth, Ginny feels pain everywhere.
She swallows surprise as an arm envelops her waist. Hair grazes her throat as Harry presses his lips to her chest, right over her heart.
"I know I can't always fix what's hurting," he says, "but I can always try."