A/N: OK, this is sort of an appology to everyone who read 'The Autobiography' and 'Collision Course'. Today I finally made the difficult decision to abandoned them (I accidentally deleted them, then lost the muse. And there was a lot of illness in between) and, fortunately, so far, people have been understanding. Anyway, I wrote this when I was at home ill today, in the spirit of fresh starts. It might just be the ramblings of an ill teenage girl, but it kept me busy all day, and hopefully someone will enjoy it. Read... maybe review a little? )
Suzi
Disclaimer: Everything you recognise belongs to the amazingly talented J.K.Rowling.
A Fresh Start
Harry awoke the day after the battle, a sens of comfort overcoming him as he took in the familiar sights of his dormitory. He allowed himself to feel the positive emotion for a full 30 seconds, closing his eyes, leaning back against his headboard and breathing deeply. Opening his eyes, he saw that only Ron and Hermione had returned to the Dormitory with him; the comfort gave way to a crushing guilt, as well as pain, as he wondered whether Neville, Dean and Seamus were simply with their famillies, elsewhere in the castle, or... well, it didn't bear thinking about. Another wave of pain overcame him as he thought of all of the losses. In his head images of Fred's death, Tonks and Remus in the hall, Colin Creevey's small body, so out of place - he'd never have a chance - played over and over in his head. He got out of his bed and ran to the bathroom adjoining his Dormitory, wretching into the toilet. It was aobut 20 minutes and one shower later that he emerged from the bathroom, considerably whiter and just a litte shakey, but no longer vomiting.
Ron was sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands, muttering, while Hermione tried to comfort him. She looked up as he entered and gave him a watery, yet reassuring smile. He joined them on Ron's bed in silence, putting his hand on Ron's shoulder. How can any of us be the same after this? How will we ever recover from these losses? He thought about the rest of the Weasley family, especially George. Last time he'd seen him, he had been inconsolable... how would the Weasleys ever find it in themselves to forgive him? Even Ginny might turn on him... it was all his fault...
"I'm sorry, Ron," Harry finally said, his voice cracking as he fought tears again. It seemed to just be hitting them that this was it; while it was, indeed, over, they'd lost so much for it... and Voldemort wasn't worth all this bloody pain. Why couldn't I have stopped him earlier? Ron took a moment to respond, and when he did, his voice was worse than Harry's, much higher-pitched than usual and full of sorrow, regret, yet had a hallow, blank quality to it.
"Sorry? For what?" Ron straightened up and looked at him, with an expression that showed he had clearly anticipated this conversation. "Harry, none of this is your fault, you didn't ask people to stay and fight-"
"If I had only stopped him earlier-"
"There's nothing you could have done-"
"I could have been faster-"
"No one could have saved him - them-"
"I stood and watched him come back-"
"Both of you shut up?" Hermione's voice was quiter than usual, and not quite as firm, but in all of their sensitive emotional states, it had as much effect as if she'd shouted at them. "Harry. Ron's right - you did your best, made every sacrifice you could, you died for these people. What more could you have possibly done?" She paused for a deep, quivering breath, looking him straight in the eye. "We all knew there would be losses. Fred as much as anyone - he wanted to be in the Order for so long, Mrs and Mr Weasley made sure he was aware of the risks, as well as everyone in the Order... everyone in the Order knew exactly how dangerous the war was. Tonks and Remus too. They did the same thing as you did - unfortunately, they aren't like you. That story you told us last night - it's completely unique. It shouldn't be possible, but... well, it's you, Harry. You have a tendency to attract impossibilities." She gave another watery smile. "You knew the risks more than anyone - and you took every one of them that could have finished this faster. You did your best, you gave it your all... there's nothing you could've done."
Her words didn't completely cure the guilt, but it did soothe it slightly - he might be able to face his friends now. But not the bodies. Not now - not yet.
"Thanks, Hermione. You too, Ron. You guys - I don't know what I would've done without you. I couldn't have done this." Harry wasn't usually one for deep, emotional conversations, but that was the thing about war: it brings out the worst in people, but also the best. And now, emotions were running high - he had to let them out somehow. "I think we need to talk to some people..." He admitted, as painful as it was. He could face his friends, but he didn't want to. He didn't want to have to explain to Ginny what he'd done last night, or Mrs Weasley why he'd completely disappeared... it would be hard. But he had to do it.
Hermione and Ron agreed with him. Together, with an air of preparation and grim anticipation, they headed down the stairs, not looking at each other, but still offering the support that they instinctively knew was needed. They stopped, however, at the sight of some long, vibrant red hair splayed haphazardly over the back of one of the armchairs. Harry unconciously whispered her name and she turned over in her sleep. Hermione gave him a look and even Ron took the hint. Hand in hand they left the room to find the rest of the Weasley family.
He sat on the arm of her chair, watching her sleep. So peaceful, no reflection of the hardships of the past night - or, indeed, the past year. He couldn't believe it - only hours ago, the whole castle had been in uproar - planning, fighting, dying... and yet now, after hardly any time had passed, there could be a creature - who had lost and endured so much over the past year - that was so tranquil, beautiful. On an impulse, he leaned forward to kiss her. She gasped slightly and opened her eyes. After a moment, he felt her smile, and he pulled away.
"Hmm, and it's not even my birthday." She said cheekily, but it was a bit forced. "If I could wake up like that every day, I might actually enjoy waking up." Ginny smiled a little - just a little: any more would seem disrespectful - rubbing her eyes and brushing her hair behind her ears. She moved to the side, giving him enough space to join her on the chair. He did so and put his arm around her, which she welcomed by cuddling into his side. It was a natural instinct - they'd both missed their favourite sitting position, and now that they were with each other again, it just felt right... and they both sought the kind of comfort they could only ever get from each other.
"And I wouldn't mind waking you up." He added with a smile himself. All of the bad feelings seemed to have temporarily eased up a bit more - he deserved a chance to just be with the person he missed most. Even Voldemort wouldn't get in the way of that - he wouldn't allow it. He's already kept us apart a year. No more of this, not when it doesn't have to be.
She laughed, a ringing, tinkling sound, but it wasn't as joyous as it usually was. Although emotions were running high today, obviously some of them were reserved for another day - laughter and fun in the wake of so much death just felt wrong. It might take a while to get used to the big, gaping holes that had been left - some of them in the castle walls, some of them in peoples' lives. "I needed to laugh. Usually, after something bad happens, it's Fred and George, or Bill, that help cheer me up. But Bill's looking after Fleur, and George... he's broken, Harry." The laughter was forgotten as tears welled up in her eyes. "I've never seen him in such a state - he needs Fred, as much as... well, as much as anyone needs anyone." He had a feeling that wasn't what she was going to say, but he let it pass as he hugged her tight and let her sob, whispering words of comfort to her.
"It's OK, Gin. I'll cheer you up, I promise. I'll help you, you've got me. George will be OK... he's got you, and your Mum and Dad and Ron and Bill and Charlie - and even Percy, now... and then there's me and Lee and Hermione... everyone needs help, now, everyone's had losses, but we'll help each other, we'll all get through it... You can't think like this, it'll just make it harder for you." Now it was his turn to do the reassuring, and as he said the words, the sense of loss hit him again, too. Tears fell down his face as he leant on her. They shook together, each depending on the other for comfort and understanding.
"I can't think like this." Ginny agreed, sitting up straight, wiping her face and looking Harry in the eyes. They sparkled with unshed tears, but he could see the familiar determination in the chocolate brown. "I need to take advantage of things. That's what they would've wanted for me. For you too, Harry. All of them." She added firmly.
"But what is there to take advantage of?" He asked quietly, feeling quite lost. He'd lost his purpose now; it was as if he'd only ever lived to fulfill the prohpecy. What now? "I've done my job... there's nothing left for me now. The prophecy's done - what use am I now?" He was actually feeling helpless - he didn't like it, he much preferred to be the hero. The worst thing was, he wasn't even sure what he was a victim of - just that Ginny was out to save him.
"The prophecy? Don't you worry about the bloody prophecy! You're right, it's gone now - you're not finished, you're free. You don't have to follow it like a religion anymore. You can do as you please. Be with who you please." OK, so it wasn't the most subtle hint, but Harry felt a surge of happiness. She was right - he didn't have to keep away from her anymore! "Voldemort's gone, Harry! No more having to double check every corner! Maybe now we can actually have a quiet year..." There was something new in her voice now. She was no longer only trying to reassure him, but out of many emotions, hope, pride and relief shone through her voice the most. She was no longer... half. She was almost like her old self. "I'm not over the deaths yet - I can't guarantee I ever will be, completely - but can you see the opportunities we have?"
He could sort of see what she meant. He knew she was still greiving - so was he, and he knew that many faces would haunt him for the rest of his life - but there was another side to it too. There were other things. "Voldemort's gone." He whispered. It hadn't really hit him what this meant - it meant no more death. It stopped now. No more attacks, or running, or hiding, or fighting. "It's all over. Voldemort's gone." He kissed her passionately, pushing aside his sadness to embrace that one fact. Something good had come out of it, at least. It wasn't for nothing. They got what they wanted - what they were fighting for. At least it was all for something. All for us.
And again the guilt was back. All of those people who had died - they'd done it for him. To protect him, keep him alive long enough to defeat Voldemort and stop it all. "But it's all my fault, Gin. I don't deserve any opportunities - I practically stole their lives. They died to keep me alive, because I was the only one who could finish it all. Because that's the way it had to be - because some Prophecy said so. Why did it have to happen like this?" He whispered. "I don't know if I'm strong enough for this, Ginny. I don't know if I can stand being the reason all of those people are dead."
"Harry!" She seemed genuinely shocked. Not so long ago he had been telling her how they'd all get through it. Well, she was going to make sure of it. "Do not say that. Voldemort killed them, not you. They didn't die for you, either - they died to stop him and protect their family and friends; the whole Wizarding World - which you just so happen to be a part of. The fact that you killed him is irrelevant - you just finished off what they all started. This war goes beyond you, Harry Potter - it's from before you were born. You just finished the job, and that's exactly what all of these people wanted. We just need to look after everyone that's left." Teddy. Harry was going to be a good Godfather, and always be there for his Godson, because his father couldn't be, and he never wanted Teddy to know how it felt to have no one. "We just need to help put the pieces back together." There was a pregnant pause, before she continued, sounding fairly nervous as she reached up to play with a strand of hair that had fell loose.
"Harry, you're the strongest person I've ever met. You're a Gryffindor. You're Harry bloody Potter for Merlin's sake! You can - no, will - get through this. I'm going to make sure you do. And if you won't do it for all of those people... well, will you do it for me?" She looked at him expectantly, biting her lower lip as she waited for a reply. He mulled the words over in his head for a moment.
"I'd do anything for you, Gin. Hell, I'd die for you." Technically, I already did. Killed, too. As he thought over the conversation, he had a small revelation. He'd actually known it for quite some time, but here was an opportunity to say it. "I love you, Ginny Weasley."
It was a snatched moment of pure bliss - even the sorrows of the battle were forgotten - when she threw herself at him with such eagerness that he thought he might be thrown over the arm of the chair. She kissed him hard and thoroughly.
"I love you too, Harry," She said a little breathlessly. "I always have. And have nothing to hide from. We have to help rebuild things. Now, we get to make a fresh start."