May 12th, 2001

Harry Potter awoke with a sick feeling in his stomach.
The blinding sunlight streaming in through his open window did not help- his entire world was now a bright, dizzying haze. Harry fumbled around on his bedside table for his glasses, and when the world was no longer a blur, he raised himself up on bony elbows and sat still in bed, listening to the quiet and reliving fragments of his dream.

He was sixteen years old.
Back at Hogwarts, and strolling through the grounds in the blinking sunlight.
Someone beside him, a smooth hand in his calloused palm, interlocked fingers.
The Black Lake, ripples in the cool, dark water.
Not caring about grass-stained uniforms.
Sunshine filtering through the leaves above them...
Flaming red hair, a feisty sense of humour and a breath of laughter.

He'd relived this particular memory countless times on the run three years ago. It had kept him going when all had seemed lost, in the depths of despair, when he had been lying alone in his bunk at night with the marauder's map, staring longingly at Ginny's dot in the girl's dormitory at Hogwarts as he thought achingly of his then ex-girlfriend.

The sick feeling had not quite abated yet. Harry's startlingly green eyes flickered to the tiny, blue velvet box lying somewhat carelessly on the bedside table, next to where his glasses had been.

He had found it in Sirius- no, his attic, among sheaves of old parchment and photographs, many of which were now in frames adorning the walls of 12 Grimmauld Place. It had been sitting inside an old envelope addressed to Sirius, (who had evidently never bothered to open it) accompanied with two letters; one in hasty, scratchy handwriting and covered in ink splatters, and another on yellowed parchment in thin, slanting writing.

The first letter had read-

August 1995

Sirius,

This letter and what accompanies it were given to me firsthand by Dumbledore the night after you returned to Hogwarts and Wormtail escaped. It's for you, and contains something very important for Harry, he told me. I would have given it to you in person, however circumstances have been rather unfortunate for me since our reunion at Hogwarts this year.

Please ensure that Harry gets both the letter and the gift when the time is right.

Remus

The second letter had been of a slightly different nature.

June 1995

Sirius,

Words cannot express how it gladdens my heart to be safe in the knowledge that you remain alive, your soul intact, and innocent. This night has certainly been one to remember, particularly for your godson- I know that James and Lily would be very proud of you for offering to look after him, and it is a great pity that Harry cannot live with you after all, due to Lily's protective charm. Thank you beyond measure for finally providing him with a family member whom he can at last love and rely on in the future.

On the night of James and Lily's deaths, as you know, I returned to Godric's Hollow to the remains of their house as you know, and searched the premises for any possible artefacts that may have been useful to Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. I recovered many things, including both of their wands, James' invisibility cloak, and the object that accompanies this letter.

As his godfather, please ensure that Harry acquires it. I know that it would mean a great deal to him (not to mention James and Lily) to know that he can still have part of their love living on to share.

Yours faithfully,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Blinking back the wetness in his eyes, he tipped the yellowing envelope downward and the mystery object toppled out.

The ring had been goblin-cast, so it had never tarnished. The gold gleamed brightly in the lamplight, the diamond small, delicate, and startlingly bright. It was as though it had been cast yesterday. Inside the delicate band were his parents names. Lily Evans & James Potter.

Sitting in bed, Harry smiled to himself at the thought of the ring on Ginny's slender finger. He was meeting her later on that day, in Trafalgar Square. His smile grew a little wider – Ginny had been playing for the Holyhead Harpies the for the Quidditch season, and had returned the day before yesterday.

His thoughts were interrupted by a polite knock on Sirius' bedroom door. Harry snapped out of his reverie, running his fingers through his hair and sitting up in bed.

The old house elf poked his fluffy-eared head around the doorframe, a heavily laden breakfast tray precariously balanced on one arm, with a feather duster tucked into his apron. Kreacher began to waddle over to Harry's bedside table, but Harry quickly jumped out of bed and grabbed the tray with a hasty grin. "Morning, Kreacher."

"Good morning, Master-" the elf hobbled over to the curtains and attempted to drag the heavy fabric aside, determined to be of service. "-did master have a-" the elf grunted in effort "-pleasant sleep?"

Harry carefully balanced the breakfast tray on his somewhat crowded bedside table, and grabbed a piece of toast. "Yeah, not too bad..had a dream. A very good dream..." his feeling of nervousness washed over him again, landing in a knot in the pit of his stomach. He gulped.

Kreacher hesitated momentarily from his new chore; picking up bundles of crumpled clothes strewn across Harry's floor. "Master?"

Harry eyed the little blue box somewhat uneasily in response. Kreacher's eyes managed to twinkle a little, a wry smile on his creased features. "Today is the day, then, eh, Master?"
Harry's knot did not loosen. "Er, yeah, hopefully..."

Kreacher rolled his bulbous eyes backward in his domed head and resumed collecting Harry's clothes from the past fortnight.
Harry smiled through a mouthful of toast. The elf was like the grumpy old grandfather he'd never had.
The grin dropped at the nagging prospect of meeting Ginny. He picked up a glass of pumpkin juice to distract himself.

"Kreacher, have you got the time? I have to meet Ginny in Trafalgar Square at midday." he said thickly through his mouthful of breakfast.
Kreacher's somewhat cheerful expression vanished. "Master, it's eleven-forty-three."

Harry nearly choked on his juice as his father and his friends gasped from their photo frame on the wall behind him. "What? Merlin-"

He leapt out of bed, dragged on a pair of yesterday's jeans and hopped, one-legged across the room to the mirror, Kreacher trying to assist him all the way.

"Master's jacket is hanging behind the door, nicely ironed–"

"Master's toothbrush is on the tray–"

and, "The ring, Master, the ring!"

Harry tugged an old jumper over his scruffy hair, grabbed his jacket, munched another quick mouthful of toast, and seized the little blue box. He tried in vain to flatten his untidy hair before whipping around to face Kreacher's judgement.

"Well?" he asked desperately.

Harry was nearly twenty-one years old. He'd reached a final height of exactly six feet tall, and had inherited his father's angular jawline and lanky limbs. Not to mention his mop of unruly dark hair, his shockingly green eyes behind perfectly round glasses and lightning bolt scar. It appeared that Harry had, totally by accident, grown into a rather handsome young man. In fact, if he had stood in front of you, Harry would have seemed almost identical to his father, James, in the photo glued onto the wall behind him.

Kreacher looked Harry up and down abrasively, a large nostril twitching in disapproval at the juice stain on his jumper and his thrice-worn jeans. The elf grunted once, which Harry took to deem his appearance somewhat suitable.

Kreacher thrust Harry his wand and wallet. "Quickly, master, it's eleven-fifty-five!" he said exasperatedly, pushing Harry's lanky out of the bedroom and down the rickety staircase.

"'Agh – Kreacher!" Harry yelped as the house elf shoved him out of the house into the warm summer air. Harry took a deep breath, quickly dusted himself off and glanced around for Muggles before turning on the spot and entering the suffocating darkness of Apparition.

He reappeared in the middle of a crowded Trafalgar Square, breathless. Harry glanced around - luckily, he had apparated totally unnoticed. He strode briskly over to one of the great black lions, and, ignoring the French tourists clambering over the beasts, leaned against one of their paws to wait for his girlfriend.

Time ticked slowly on, and Harry grew edgier by the minute. It was seven minutes past twelve- where was she? He shifted from foot to foot in anticipation as Fabian Prewett's watch ticked on to eight past. Come on, come on, come on-

Suddenly, there she was. A glimpse of immediately recognisable flaming red hair. Grinning widely, Harry leapt up from his sitting position, his bright green irises scanning the crowds, following her bobbing head, the size of a sickle, then a Galleon, then she was only metres away. Harry felt a grin spreading across his face like marmite, and made a mental note in the back of his mind – damn.

She looked incredible. On her stockinged feet were a pair of battered old leather boots (which Harry knew for a fact had once been Mrs Weasley's), a flower-patterned ruffled skirt with a cream-coloured top and an old denim jacket over it. She had a pair of dark sunglasses perched atop her bright red hair, and a hard, blazing look – she looked gorgeous.

She stopped, grinned, and began running towards Harry as soon as her eyes caught his. He too, began walking at first, then striding to meet her, also grinning. Only fifty feet away now-

The two of them collided in a tangle of arms and legs and laughter. His hands grasped at the back of her neck, her slender fingers entangled in his dark hair, her lips locked fiercely onto his in a triumphant grin. Then he was hugging her tight, his nose buried in her fiery hair, inhaling her scent; cinnamon, roses and old leather. She was back, and he had missed her.

Ginny broke free of the hug so that the two of them were nose to nose, kissing him quickly in between words.

"Oh my God-"
Kiss,
"I have missed you-"
Kiss,
"so-"
Kiss,
"much-"
Long kiss.

Harry laughed into her mouth. "Nice to see you too," he chuckled, kissing her again a little clumsily. His arms snaked down to the small of her back, he leaned his scarred forehead against her own, allowing snatches of memories to come flooding back. A whole Quidditch season was a long time.

The pair of them both stood quietly in this way in the crowded square for a few moments before Ginny began fumbling in her bag.
"What?-" Harry began, but Ginny silenced him with a look.
"I want to remember this," she said firmly, producing a wizarding camera – Harry didn't even know she owned one of those. Ginny held up the camera in front of them.
"Say 'Puking Pastilles'!" she said cheerfully, and Harry raised an eyebrow for the photo before planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

The camera gave two, quick little puffs of white smoke, and with that, she stowed it back in her bag and the pair set off their fingers interlocking, for Diagon Alley to meet Ron and Hermione.

Harry felt a little stab of guilt as the he and Ginny apparated in an alleyway to the Leaky Cauldron- he had hardly seen either of them, he'd been purposely keeping himself busy with Auror training, but he'd not seen Ron for a month, let alone Hermione, who was hard at work campaigning for SPEW. He decided to distract himself with Ginny as they stood outside the Leaky Cauldron.

"So, how're the Harpies? Hear you're top of the League." he commented, draping an arm around her shoulder, using the other to knock on the door.

Ginny rolled her eyes heavenward. "Oh, Godric, please, no more talk of Quidditch," she groaned as Tom the landlord let them in. "I've had seven solid months of non-stop matches, training and press releases...let's just say I'm glad to be finally taking a break." She said exasperatedly, both of them casually ignoring the copious stares they were earning from the customers of the Leaky Cauldron as they strode through the pub.

"Please," Harry scoffed. "you loved every minute of it."
She allowed herself a smile. "Yeah, I did."

The pair of them chuckled as they left the inn. Harry was happy for Ginny's success in Quidditch, but he felt a little twinge of awkwardness – she had a point. She'd been working hard these past three months – She wouldn't want to get engaged now, he thought glumly as he tapped the brick in the wall and the bricks began rearranging themselves.

"I'd forgotten about the staring." Ginny said quietly, breaking Harry out of his reverie. He glanced sideways at her expression, worried, but she sighed as she took his hand and leaned into his shoulder, and he relaxed.

"Wish I could." said Harry with a wry smile as he turned to face her. He was touched at Ginny's definite acceptance of the fact that by being with him, her life would be very different.

She leaned in for a kiss; a soft, quiet kiss that somehow briefly explained all of the things he knew he would never be able to put into words. Smiling as they broke apart and the last brick fell into place, they both strode out into the sunshine. Nothing would ruin Harry's spirits now that Ginny was back.