Title: Promises

Author: Elenorcanard

Word Count: 1071

Summary: Harry always keeps his promises.

Author's notes: I don't own Harry Potter. Nor do I own any of the Weasleys…sad, I know.

Ginny Weasley sat in the chair turning the ring on her left hand nervously. Outside the room, outside the building, she could hear the noises of the celebration that had been going on for the last two days. Inside the room, the only sound was the slow, finally steady, breathing of Harry Potter.

For months she sat at the Burrow, wishing the school was open, waiting for an owl to tell her that her friend, her brother and her lover were safe. She woke up before dawn to sit at the kitchen table and wait for the post owls to bring the Prophet. She'd hold her breath, reading the list of the latest casualties, exhaling only when she was sure their names weren't there. Then she'd go out to do the chores, degnoming the garden and taking bread to the ducks that lived in the pond, all the while watching the sky for Hedwig or Pig and thumbing the silver band on her finger, remembering his promise. He promised to come home to her and sealed the promise with a ring and a kiss.

Of course, Ginny had wanted to go with them, but Harry had asked her, begged her, to stay at the Burrow, to stay safe.

"I've only just got you back after I was such a prat. I couldn't bear to lose you now," he'd told her.

And he had come back. He'd come back victorious and unconscious, apparated to St. Mungo's in Ron's arms, she was told. Hermione had appeared in the garden that evening; it seemed like weeks ago. She'd gathered the Burrow's inhabitants and marched through the doors of St. Mungo's and past the protesting Healers and Medi-wizards and straight up to a corridor where they found Ron leaning against the wall. He looked tired and worried, and there was a bright red line under his eye from a cut that had been recently healed.

"How is he, Ron?" Hermione had asked, sounding scared, but clearly refusing to give into it.

Ron shook his head. "No word. There were people rushing in and out for a while. It's been quiet for a long time though. "

He caught Ginny's arm as she tried to rush past him, and pulled her into a tight hug. "No, Gin. Wait out here. He'll be alright. Let the healers work." Ginny leaned on him for a moment and then stepped back and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand.

This seemed to be Mrs. Weasley's cue. She stepped away from her husband and gathered her youngest son into her arms. "Oh Ronnie! You're home! Don't you leave again!"

Ron winced. "Ow. Mum, I'm not going anywhere, but you've got to let up. My shoulder's a bit sore."

"What'd you do to your shoulder?" Mrs. Weasley asked, concerned.

"Didn't you have it looked at, Ron?" Hermione interjected, stepping to his side.

"Not yet, 'Mione. I've been waiting to hear about Harry," the redhead answered.

"Ron, you've got to have that taken care of!" the small witch said sternly.

"Why? You healed it already. It's just a little stiff."

"Ron! A basic healing spell cannot fix a blasting curse to the shoulder! I only fixed it up enough so you could move your arm!"

"They blasted your shoulder! Where's a healer? Ronnie, you need to see a healer," Mrs. Weasley's voice was starting to shake. Mr. Weasley pulled her back to him to keep her from tackling Ron with motherly concern.

"Mum, Hermione, I'll have it looked at when we hear about Harry. Right now, I want all the healers in there, making sure my best mate stays alive."

"Promise?" Hermione asked.

"I promise, 'Mione," Ron dropped a kiss on her forehead. "He's gonna be alright, Gin." Ron told her, catching her eye over Hermione's head.

Ginny nodded. "I know. He has to be. He promised."

By the time the healers declared Harry out of the woods and okay for visitors, the Twins and Bill and Fleur had joined them in their hallway vigil. Charlie had sent an owl asking for updates until he could get a portkey. Harry still wasn't awake, but the Weasley clan, his only real family, gathered around the bed in the small room. They waited quietly until a healer came to collect Ron and suggest they go home to bed. They didn't expect Harry to wake for a couple of days, but they had promised to floo as soon as he stirred. The family agreed and stood to go, but Ginny wouldn't be shifted from the chair by his bed. Her mother and all her brothers tried to get her to come home, but she refused to leave and so the healers brought her a pillow and a blanket, and conjured a cot for her.

So there she was, two days later, listening to the Wizarding world celebrate the death of the Dark Lord with out a thought for their savior, and waiting for Harry to wake up.

She stood, for a while, at the window, watching the festivities in the street. She dozed lightly for a short time, ignoring the cot, and favoring her chair. On the fourth day, he stirred.

"Gin?"

She turned away from the window, where she had been gazing at the finally quiet street, to see Harry looking straight at her.

"Oh Godric, Harry, you're awake!" She ran to his bedside, taking his hand.

"How'd I get here, Gin?" he asked, trying to sit up.

"No, Harry, lay down. It's okay. Ron brought you. You almost died," Ginny told him, smoothing his fringe back from his face.

Harry stopped struggling. "Ron, he's okay? And Hermione?"

"They're fine, Harry. They're at the Burrow, waiting for me to floo that you're awake."

"And Voldemort?" Harry asked quietly.

"He's dead, Harry. You did it," Ginny told him, tears trailing down her face.

"Good," Harry cradled her face in one hand, rubbing her tears away with his thumb. "Ginny, what's wrong? What is it?" he asked, trying to sit up again.

"Shh, Harry," Ginny pushed him back down again. "It's nothing. I was just so scared that you weren't going to wake up." She smiled at him. "And you did. You came back to me, and I'm so relieved," She told him with a weak laugh.

Harry squeezed her hand gently, and kissed her knuckles. "Of course I came back, Gin. I promised."