Ginny has nightmares. Harry doesn't, anymore; sometimes he thinks that he exhausted a whole life's worth of them during the war, and he doesn't miss them a bit.
But Ginny still dreams of the diary, and of Riddle, and late at night Harry lies beside her in their bed and strokes her bright hair back from her face while she sobs and begs. He can never wake her up, but his touch seems to help.
He listens to her whisper, over and over again, "Not Harry, not Harry, no, I won't, not Harry, please, not Harry..." --and even with the war ten years over and their children sleeping in the rooms downstairs, he feels a chill down his back at the sound of his own name.