As Harry walked to Gryffindor Tower, he thought of Ginny. What would he say to her? Would she be upset with him? Of course she would, that seemed obvious enough. Could she forgive him? Would she want to forgive him? Would she, like him, hold him accountable for the many deaths? Would she blame him for the loss of her brother? These questions raced through Harrys mind, a torturous merry go round of pity and fear.
He found the entrance to the Gryffindor common room ajar, granting access to anyone. He expected to find people there, people celebrating or people mourning. People like him who wanted a rest. Happily though, he was alone. A million decisions plagued him every day. Horocrux or hallows? Gordric's Hallow or Hogwarts? To surrender or not? For the first time in ten months though, the most pressing decisions were not life or death. For now, his most pressing concerns had to do with hunger, sleep, or a shower. For now, his only goal was to feel clean and fed and rested. Happiness was a long way away, and the thought of little Teddy Lupin exemplified that.
"Kreacher," Harry said to no one. The elf appeared with a deafening crack, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. For all Kreacher's faults, Harry was glad to see him unhurt.
"Master Harry," Kreacher bowed low, the locket around his neck, almost touching the floor.
"Master Regulus would be exceptionally pleased with how you defended Hogwarts, Kreacher. He would be proud of you, as am I." The house elf's eyes filled with water threatening to spill over, but he beamed at Harry. "I wondered, Kreacher, if you would be willing to fetch me a change of clothes and something to eat?" Again, Kreacher remained wordless. He nodded, the tears in his eyes brimming, his smile still wide. "Thank you, Kreacher. You've done more than you'll ever know to fulfill Regulus's dying wish." Kreachers low bow dropped fat tears onto the floor where the locket dangled. Before Harry could attempt to comfort the creature, he disapperated with another crack.
Harry walked to the bathroom and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He was used to being thin. He was starved on more than one occasion at the Dursley's, but this was different. His untidy hair had grown out some, and it magnified the newfound thinness of his cheeks. He was covered in burns from the Lestrange's vault. His clothes singed from spells and his face bloodied from cascading debris. Dirt from the Forbidden Forest lay atop the injuries and grime, camouflaging the mess.
The hot water from his shower made his burns sear, but it washed away the dirt and sweat with surprising ease. Rust colored water ran down the drain as dried blood and mud came off in clumps. Rust colored turned to red, as fresh blood was washed off injuries being reopened. Harry heard Kreachers crack into the room, the jostling of dishes, and another crack as he left. It sounded like Kreacher was talking to himself, but Harry couldn't make out what the strange elf was saying. Satisfied that he was as close to clean as he was going to get, he shut off the water and wrapped a towel around himself. As his glasses fogged making it impossible to see, he made his way back to the dorm room he once shared with his friends. How many lifetimes ago was that?
As his four posted bed came into view, Harry was certain his eyes were playing tricks on him. It might have been the light from the window that prevented him from seeing Ginny sitting on the edge of his bed. Shaking his head like a dog after a bath, he stared. It wasn't a trick though, she was there. Harry stood there, staring. He had hoped he'd have time to decide what to say to her. He wanted time to decide how to explain the past ten months. Time to decide how to tell her the worst parts. Time to work up an apology. She stared back for some amount of time Harry couldn't pinpoint even with his watch on. They sat surrounded in silence that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. Limbo. Heat crept up the back of Harry's neck as he realized how under dressed he was, but Ginny seemed unaware of his literal and figurative vulnerability.
_
"Gin-," Harry croaked, his voice betraying him. He tried again. "Ginny. I- Please- I need to get dressed. But please… I mean- Just, just wait here. Please? Just- Just don't leave. I'll- I'll be right back just don't- Don't go," Harry stammered and stuttered and was unsure about everything. A beat passed with no reaction. Had she not heard him? Would he have to try and spit out another sentence? He was unsure that was even possible. Thankfully, she nodded with the faintest glimmer of a smile at his nervousness.
Harry grabbed his clothes and wand from a nearby table where Kreacher had left them, and retreated to the bathroom. Staring himself once again in the mirror, he tried to calm his nerves. She hadn't hexed him, she hadn't yelled. Perhaps she wasn't mad. Perhaps she understood. Perhaps she would forgive him. It seemed too good to be true though. Could forgiveness for leaving her and for not saying good-bye would be offered so readily? Harry hurried to pull on his jeans and tee shirt paying little attention to how he looked. It could not have mattered less how he looked. All that mattered was going back to Ginny, to make sure she hadn't changed her mind and left. For ten months his priorities had been about defeated Riddle. If he stood any chance of getting Ginny back, she had to be the priority now. The thought terrified Harry. Could he make her as happy as she deserved? Should he step aside to allow her to find someone new? Someone who could never be held accountable for the deaths of more than 50 people? Someone who could never be seen as responsible for Fred's death? His name stuck in Harry's mind. Fred.
Doing everything in his power to push the thought of Fred from his mind, he went back to his room. In some way, he was almost surprised to see Ginny waiting, just like he had asked of her. She was covered in similar grime that Harry had been. Her hair was knotted in the back, her eyes were full of an emotion Harry struggled to identify. It was such a range of emotions Harry couldn't identify them all. Contentedness, for the battle finally being over. Grief, for the loss of her brother and her friends. Exhaustion. Anger. Relief. Fear. She was still so exquisite. In every way she showed strength, grace, fearlessness.
Getting his thoughts organized was a near impossible task. One step at a time, Harry thought. Just go sit near her. His feet obeyed his thoughts and he shuffled closer to her. He cursed himself for having said nothing so far. He sat on his bed at what he hoped was a respectful difference. Close enough to hold her hand if she'd let him, far away enough that he didn't presume their reunion. Harry was painfully aware of every move he made, silently praying he wouldn't do something wrong.
It was so natural. So expected in a way. Ginny looked up at Harry, and in an instant they were wrapped in each other arms. Harry leaned back against the headboard and held Ginny while his shirt dampened with her tears. Unsure what to say or what to do, Harry stroked her hair and rested his cheek on the top of her head. For ten months Harry thought about the moment that he would get to hold her again. He thought about how desperate and starved for each other it might be. Maybe it would be a happy, long embrace full of celebration at their reunion. In every scenario, they were happy to be together again. In every scenario, the only death would be Riddles. They sat like that for what felt like hours before one of them spoke.
"You can't do that again. You can't pretend to be dead. You can't surrender yourself and not say good bye to me. You can't leave me with the reasoning that it's for my own good, because I can promise you, I would have been better off with you this year." Ginny's tears remained the same, but her voice was steadfast. "You can't do that to me again. You can't," her voice wavered this time though.
"Ginny-," Harry started.
"No. No there's no 'Ginny', right now. There's no excuse, no reason, no explanation," She sat up and looked Harry in the eyes. Her tears had washed away some of the blood on her face, creating streaks of clear, pale skin. Harry obliged and remained quiet, but Ginny couldn't seem to meet his eyes when she spoke again. Instead, she look at the burns on Harrys hands, which now rested in his lap. "I think that you love me. I know you broke up with me because you didn't want me to get hurt but I think it's more than that. I think you love me. And if you do, this has to be it. You can't keep pushing me aside so you can take care of everything by yourself. If you love me, then you have to love that I'm just as capable. I'm not some damsel in distress, you don't get to save me. You get to respect me, and you get to treat me as an equal." Without waiting for an answer, she laid back down on Harry's chest, her tears finally subsiding. He conjured a small basin of warm water and a small wash cloth. With the damp cloth he began washing away the dried tears, the dirt, the blood from her cheeks. With one arm around her waist, he rinsed the cloth and began again. He never mistook the freckles that were sprinkled over her face as anything but stars in the night sky. They created constellations on her nose and cheeks that Harry could identify even blind.
"I do," Harry began. The words caught in his throat when Ginny looked up with her chocolate brown eyes. He tried again. "I do love you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. There's nothing more than I wanted than to have you there with me. I wanted you to be safe. I thought… I thought you would be safe here. I thought they wouldn't hurt you because you're pure blood. I thought they wouldn't know about us. I'm so sorry." Harry broke eye contact first, unable to stomach the understanding, forgiveness, and love he saw in Ginny. He set aside the wash cloth and wrapped both arms around her, unable to face her as he spoke again. "I'll tell you everything. Not this second, but I'll make sure you know everything that happened. You're right, you're more than capable. I can't bear the thought of something happening to you. I've lost everyone else. I can't lose you too. But you're right. I love you and if you'll have me back I won't insist I know what would keep you safer. I'll do better. I promise." The nervousness Harry had felt initially had subsided at some point, only to come back as full-fledged fear. He clung to her tighter, afraid she would turn him away and that this would be the last time he could hold her.
"I love you too," Ginny shimmed up closer to Harry, resting her head on his shoulder. He exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding, but refusing to loosen his arms. Not doing everything to keep Ginny safe scared him, but losing her scared him more.