A/N: This is just a bit of Harry/Ginny drabble-y stuff. One-shot. I had this idea while I was making dinner, and I had to write it down. Sorry if it isn't great, quality writing, I haven't been able to edit this, and I'm posting it right before I go to bed.

No matter how much I wish I did, I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, Hedwig would be named something that didn't remind me of ears.

Ginny wrenched herself up in bed and bit back a scream. The bright light of her nightmare had been right there; it had been so real.

It had all been reality.

This was a hard thing to get used to: the fact that she could go through a day without worrying that it would be her last. She'd figured out the key to getting through a day, and he'd been right there ever since she was eleven years old with only a schoolgirl crush. When she felt tears itching at the back of her retinas and a beast clawing its way up her throat, she'd catch sight of his untidy black hair and bright green eyes and she'd feel hope. He'd whisper something inconsequential into her ear and she'd feel safe. She felt she could tackle the whole world, as long as she could hear his voice and see his sweet face.

The same sweet face in her dream, the face that had just been blasted with a killing curse that made his eyes widen and his mouth gasp soundlessly and then Voldemort's face had come into view, gray and flat and dead, and he had laughed –

Ginny smacked herself on the forehead. "Stop," she whispered to herself. "Stop it right now."

There was a rustling from across the room, and Ginny's head whipped around to see Hermione shifting in her sleep. Hermione had been staying at the Burrow like Harry for a few weeks, ever since the battle at Hogwarts. Ginny had set up a cot in her room (a chore that her mother usually did, but she was too numb to even notice Hermione was here until two days later) and let her unpack into the empty drawer in her dresser. Hermione was a heavy sleeper, and though she shifted a lot, Ginny had thought she wasn't having nightmares.

Yesterday morning, Ginny had called her on it. "I keep waking up because I have nightmares," she explained after yawning so widely she fell off her chair. "Why aren't you having them?"

Hermione had looked at her with a tired, sad look that shouldn't touch a seventeen-year-olds eye. "I have them every night," she'd said bleakly. "I just don't get to wake up."

This chilled Ginny to the bone just thinking about it, and she crawled out of bed. She didn't want to go back to sleep where those witches and wizards who laughed in the face of death loomed. She wanted to go downstairs and never sleep again.

The house was deafeningly silent as she walked down the stairs. A step creaked, and Ginny stopped, closing her eyes. She waited for Percy or Charlie to peek their faces out of a door and stare accusingly at her. They didn't. Everyone stayed asleep.

She walked on tiptoe into the living room only to see the light on. Harry twisted around in his seat on the couch, his face instantly relaxing as he saw her leaning in the doorway. Ginny noticed that he was holding Teddy on his lap.

Andromeda had set up a crib in the Weasley's living room, and Teddy had been staying here while she cleaned things up with Narcissa. This had taken a couple days, and Teddy had greatly helped Mum recover from Fred's – you know – as she loved to take care of someone who was lost and alone.

Which, now that Ginny thought about it, applied to most people these days.

Ginny walked forward and prodded his shoulder. "Scoot over."

He obliged, and Teddy gurgled as he was placed on Ginny's lap. "Mama," he said through spontaneous laughter. "Maaaamaa!"

"Sh, Teddy, no, she's not your Mama," Harry said, patting Teddy's back and glancing sadly at Ginny.

The raw sadness that was Teddy Remus Lupin hit her hard, then: Teddy would never know his parents – two extraordinary people who loved with extraordinary hearts. For Teddy, Nymphadora Tonks Lupin and Remus Lupin would only exist in old stories and his own imagination.

"She made her hair like yours a lot," Harry noted quietly. "Tonks really loved you, Ginny. You were like the little sister she never had."

"She loved everyone," Ginny said in a whisper, her voice cracking. "God, she loved everyone. And Remus was just so smart and he loved Tonks so much, any prat could tell, and he loved you, too, you were his favorite. What about Fred, or that stupid idiot Colin Creevey?"

Teddy wrapped his tiny baby fingers around Ginny's nose and laughed clearly. His hair changed from bright red to black to turquoise as his mouth opened in a yawn, a bit of pink tongue showing.

Harry picked him up and put him at the end of the couch, where he instantly fell asleep. "God, Ginny, I know," he said, wrapping his arms around her and closing his eyes. "I know. It's horrible, and I can't – I can't ever sleep. I keep having dreams that the Death Eaters are firing off curses and they hit Ron – Hermione – George – your mum and dad – you." He fell silent and buried his face in her hair. "And I worry about Teddy, too. All the time."

"I had a dream that he killed you," she whispered, horrified. "For real, though. And I could tell you weren't coming back because your eyes were so blank." Ginny paused. "I've had a ton of these, and I keep waking up, almost screaming."

They leaned against each other for a moment, and then he moved his lips to her ear. "Have I told you that I love you recently?"

"Today at dinner, yes."

"Well, I love you again. Just to make sure. You know how much I've said that to people recently? I said it to Percy and he laughed at me."

"You're silly." She kissed his neck gently. "I love you, too."

They pulled each other closer than seemed possible, their limbs entangling, pulling Teddy into the close embrace. Ginny laid her head on Harry's chest and closed her eyes.

For the first time in weeks, she slept peacefully.