(A/N: the first few chapters of this is already written so i'm uploading them all at once. after chapter iv, updates will be about once a week!) ii.

"You should go see Teddy," Ginny says. She's leaning against him, with her head pillowed on his shoulder, and finishing off the last of the breakfast he'd brought her.

It's hard to think straight or to focus on anything, after how she'd kissed him, but that manages to get Harry's attention. He sits up a bit straighter, and looks at her. They're sitting down under the tree, sheltered from the sun and from the sight of anyone in the Burrow who might look out of their windows. They'd been sitting in silence, and Harry had been content to feel the warm weight of Ginny against him as she ate. He still can't believe it. He hadn't let himself hope, over the past year, hadn't let himself think about a future beyond Voldemort.

It doesn't feel fair, that he survived and so many others didn't. No matter how many times Ron and Hermione tell him not to, he can't help feeling guilty over their deaths. He had honestly thought he wouldn't make it this far. It's bittersweet, because he feels luckier than he can articulate, to have Ginny next to him, but everything, even this, is a reminder of what he's lost, what all of them have.

He looks down at her now. Her eyes are closed, and the sun is glinting off her hair. "Yeah?" he says. He hadn't been expecting her to say something like that.

"Yeah," she says. She sits up, turns to face him. "You should. Have you, since the war?"

"Come to think of it," Harry says slowly, "I haven't seen him at all. Not since… the funeral." He hadn't been paying much attention during Remus and Tonks' funeral, thoughts too preoccupied by grief and guilt and sorrow, but he did remember Andromeda sitting in the front row, back ramrod-straight and holding a baby with turquoise hair in her arms. After the funeral had finished, he'd gone up to her to try and say something, but then Teddy had started crying and she had excused herself to go back home, mumbling something about putting him down for a nap.

Teddy. His godson. The last link he had to Lupin and, by extension, his parents.

"You should," Ginny says. "Or write to Mrs Tonks, at any rate. She's all alone with him, and… well, you've seen how Mum is. It's probably much worse for Andromeda. She's lost her husband and… she only had one daughter." Ginny's voice doesn't break, not exactly, but it cracks. She had been close to Tonks, Harry knows.

Harry doesn't know what to say. He suddenly feels guilty. Teddy's his godson, and apart from Andromeda, he's all the family Teddy has now. He doesn't know why he hasn't reached out Andromeda, why he hasn't attempted to speak to her. He remembers how nice it had been when Sirius wrote to him, when he felt a little less alone then. It occurs to him then that Teddy, like him, is an orphan. Voldemort, this war, it's taken so much from him, from all of them, and now another young boy has to grow up without knowing his parents. Doesn't he owe it to Teddy, to himself, to make sure Teddy's surrounded by whatever family he has? He doesn't know why he hasn't done anything about it yet.

Some of his guilt must show on his face, because Ginny reaches out and takes his hand, squeezing it gently. "You've been busy," she says. "It's okay. It's barely been a couple of weeks. But you should do it now."

Harry doesn't know how she knew exactly what was going through his mind. It's uncanny how she does that. "Will you come with me?" he finally says, once the lump in his throat has gone down and he can speak clearly.

"Yeah, of course, if you want me to," Ginny says easily.

Harry nods. "I'll write to her," he promises.

He does.

That evening, Ron and Hermione are playing chess in the living room, and Ginny's outside again. She spends more time in the orchard than at home these days; Harry can't really blame her.

He's watching the game absentmindedly when he remembers his conversation with Ginny. He waves his wand, catching the parchment and Self-Inking Quill that come zooming towards him.

"Knight to E5," Ron says ten minutes later, and turns to look at Harry, who's sitting on the floor with the letter propped up on the table in front of him. "Who are you writing to?" he asks Harry curiously.

"Mrs Tonks," Harry answers. He feels self-conscious enough as it is, and it only grows worse when he feels both Ron and Hermione's gazes on him. All he's written in the last ten minutes is Dear Mrs Tonks, and he has no idea what to write next.

"Oh, that's right, you—" Hermione cuts herself off with a small sigh when she notices that Ron's knight has just gotten rid of her bishop. "—you should do that, that's a good idea," she continues, and nudges one of her pawns forward.

"You should tell her to come over for dinner or something," Ron puts in. "Mum would probably like the company. I mean, if she feels better by then."

"I don't know if Mrs Tonks will be up to it," Hermione says. "I mean, she's been through a lot, hasn't she? First Ted, and now her daughter…"

"We've all been through a lot, I reckon," Ron says.

"Yes, but Mrs Tonks doesn't have any family except for Teddy anymore, does she? I imagine that's hard. I mean, to lose one family member's hard enough…" Hermione cuts herself off rather abruptly, and Harry wonders why, but then he looks at the way Ron's face has gone pale and he understands. "Oh, Ron, I'm sorry," she whispers, looking alarmingly close to tears. "I didn't mean…"

"No, I know," Ron says, but his face has fallen. Harry knows that he's thinking about what all of them are thinking about. The loss of Fred hangs heavy in the house all the time, but its moments like these when Harry feels it the most keenly. Ron takes a deep breath, and seems to compose himself before he looks back at Harry. "Tell her we're all here for her. Not like we're doing much right now, anyway." He gives Hermione an oddly furtive look before moving his rook forward.

It's twenty minutes later that Harry's finally finished his letter. "Can I borrow Pigwidgeon?" He asks Ron. When Ron nods distractedly, he stands up. Before he can go find the owl, he's distracted by Ginny walking in, wet from the rain.

"Checkmate," Ron says, and then, "oh, hi, Ginny. You're wet."

"I noticed, thank you," Ginny says.

"Here," Hermione says. She takes her wand and waves it in Ginny's direction.

"Thanks, Hermione," says a newly dry Ginny. She walks to Harry and gives him a smile, one he can't help but return. "Did you finally write it, then?" she says.

"I did, yeah," Harry says.

"Good," Ginny says. "If you hadn't by tomorrow, I would've probably just done it for you and forged your signature."

Harry laughs. Somehow, he doesn't doubt that.

"I'm going to go shower," Ginny says. She goes on her tiptoes and kisses Harry, lingering just a moment too long for it to be strictly decent, and then makes her way upstairs.

Harry, as is always the case when Ginny kisses him, needs a moment to compose himself. When he looks back at Ron and Hermione, he's surprised to see the way Ron's ears have gone red, and then he remembers that Ron doesn't know anything that transpired with him and Ginny this morning.

"What was that?" he asks.

Harry makes a quick decision to downplay it as much as is possible. "What was what?"

It seems to make things worse. "I don't want you messing around with her," Ron says.

"I'm not," Harry says. "We're not messing around."

"What is this, then? This isn't the time to try anything with her, you don't know how upset she's been after Fred—"

Harry can't take any more of this. "You don't know what you're talking about." His voice is calm, but even he can hear the edge to it. "You two, you're both the ones who don't know anything."

Ron's chest seems to be swelling in anger. "What are you talking about?" He demands.

"Don't think I haven't noticed you both sneaking around," Harry snaps. "Planning who knows what, like you've been paying any attention to Ginny—"

"Harry, we're not planning—" Hermione tries to interject.

"Don't lie," Harry says, before she can say anything. "Just because I haven't said anything doesn't mean I didn't notice, alright? We've all been upset after everything, after—after Fred and everyone –but Ginny and I talked and—"

"I don't want you messing her up!" Ron says. The mention of Fred seems to have angered him further.

"I'm not!" Harry says, just as loudly as Ron.

They both look at each other for a moment, and then Ron stands up and storms upstairs. Even from down here, Harry can hear the door slam.

"Harry," Hermione whispers, but Harry doesn't want to hear any of it, doesn't want to see the tears in her eyes or be made to feel guilty over his and Ron's argument.

"I'm going to bed," he announces, even though none of them have eaten dinner, and makes his way back up to Bill and Charlie's room, where he's been sleeping for the last two weeks.

They don't talk about it the next morning.

Mrs Weasley's downstairs when Harry comes down, for the first time since Fred's funeral. Her eyes are red-rimmed and she looks pale, but she gives him a tired smile when he comes in and pulls him in for a hug.

Everyone seems happy to see Mrs Weasley in the kitchen, but there's palpable tension in the air once they've settled down at the breakfast table. Harry, sandwiched in between Hermione and Ginny, makes eye contact with Ron every so often, but neither of them say anything about their argument.

It's only halfway through the meal, when Mr Weasley's left to go meet Kingsley in the Ministry and Mrs Weasley excuses herself to go back to her room, that they're forced to talk about it, and only because they have no other choice.

"So, are you going to tell me what's going on?" Ginny says.

"What do you mean?" mumbles Ron.

"You and Harry. You've been glaring at each other and sulking through breakfast," Ginny says impatiently. Harry's happy that she's starting to recover herself, but he forgot just how keenly Ginny can get to the heart of the matter without attempting to tread on any sort of eggshells.

Hermione surprises him by giggling. "They have been sulking, haven't they?"

"Yeah, it's like an old married couple. Maybe you both should try kissing each other goodnight, maybe that will help," Ginny says.

"Nah, he's not my type," Ron says. He meets Harry's eye, and they both suddenly smile, though it fades quickly.

"There, the tension's broken, anyway. Now will you tell us what the matter is?" Ginny demands.

Neither of them say anything. Finally, Hermione rolls her eyes. "Ron's upset that you and Harry seem to have, er. Sorted out your differences," she tells Ginny.

"Oh," says Ginny, and then, "I should have guessed."

"I don't want him taking advantage of you," Ron says.

Harry wants to laugh at the idea of anyone taking advantage of Ginny. He has no doubt that she would fight them off; he feels a burst of pride in his chest just thinking about it.

Ginny seems to agree with him, if the scoff she lets out is any indication.

"Ron," Hermione says softly, "I really think we should give them a chance to explain—"

"Explain?" Ginny says. "I wasn't aware we were doing anything wrong. We broke up because of Voldemort. He's gone now, isn't he? So I don't see what the issue is."

"The issue," Ron says, "is that you're not in any right mind to start – whatever it is that this is—because with Fred, it's too soon—"

"Shut up," Ginny says. Her eyes have lost their amused look, and her voice is icy. "Shut up, Ron, do you really think I'm not in my right mind?"

"No, I just meant—" Ron seems to realise he's hit a nerve.

"Besides, what about you and Hermione?" Ginny demands. "I suppose you're in the right mind to decide to go snogging her now, or doing even more, if the way she sneaks out of my bedroom in the night is any indication, and I can't decide to date Harry?"

Harry winces at the visual of Hermione and Ron snogging.

"You're being a hypocrite," Ginny continues, "and I'm sick of you, and Mum, and everyone, assuming I'm too young to know what I want! I'm turning seventeen in a few months, I'll be of age, and I've loved Harry for ages now—" she cuts herself off suddenly, her cheeks flaming red.

Harry feels like there's a buzzing in his ears, like he's been hit with a hundred Muffliatos. He looks at Ginny, dumbfounded. Even Ron seems too shocked to say anything. Hermione lets out a sound that seems to be a combination of a gasp and a muffled sob.

"Well," says someone, sounding close to laughter, "at least I didn't miss my baby sister declaring her love for the Chosen One."

The four of them turn around to the source of the sound. There, brushing soot off his robes and looking like he hasn't slept in days, having just stepped out of the fireplace and entered the Burrow for the first time since the funeral of Fred, stands George Weasley, surveying them with an amused smile.

Ginny stands up and runs to George, throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly.

"Hey, sis," George says, "you're really giving Mum a run for her money with the screaming there." He looks over the top of Ginny's head at Ron. Ron goes to join the hug, all animosity seemingly forgotten.

"What are you doing here?" Ginny says, sounding happier than she has in a while.

George hesitates. Ron and Ginny step back from the hug, but Ginny stays close to his side.

"It's Fred," George finally says. "Kingsley and Dad are coming here with Bill and Fleur now, they'll be here within the hour. Kingsley's finished handling the legal aspects. It's time to read the will."