Ginny

It was early afternoon by the time I finally woke and decided to brave the outside world. Through a window someone had opened during the night, birds were singing with a cheer I did not feel. Harry was still sleeping in exactly the same position he had been all night – arm flung over my middle, nose buried in my shoulder, snoring lightly. If a nightmare had plagued him during the night, I hadn't noticed. I took a moment to run my fingers along the rough skin of his cheek. His breath, deep and heavy, came as something of a reassurance to me.

Despite the sunshine that filtered in through the window, I shivered as I got out of bed and pulled on my robes. There was considerable commotion downstairs. More voices than I was accustomed to hearing were whispering to each other in hushed tones. With one last look at Harry, I protectively drew the curtains around the bed and shuffled slowly down the cold stone steps.

The common room was packed with sleeping bodies. Adults and students, a good number of people I didn't recognize, were sprawled out in various places. By the dormitory steps, I saw my own parents sleeping peacefully on a makeshift bed that had probably been magicked into existence. My father shifted uneasily in his sleep, but thankfully didn't wake. It was a strange feeling: on any other day, I would have been panic-stricken to see them after having just left Harry's bed.

Definitely awkward.

To the contrary, this morning the sight came as something of a relief.

As did the sight of Ron, Hermione, George, Charlie, Bill and Percy, who were holding hushed council by the fireplace. Ron's face broke into a grin when he saw me.

"Slept under the Invisibility Cloak last night, did you?" he asked knowingly.

"Don't be stupid; the cloak would have slipped off in the middle of the night," Hermione reproached him with a nudge. "They must have used a Disillusionment Charm."

Do those two EVER stop fighting?

To my horror, my brothers and Hermione were now looking at me with empathy. Of course – Ron and Harry shared a room. He must have noticed that Harry's bed had appeared empty all night, then saw me descending the stairs from the boys' dormitory and added it all up. The sudden flush of my cheeks betrayed my guilt.

"I – thought he deserved a bit of privacy," I said sheepishly, knowing it was a poor excuse. In this case, I felt honesty was the best course of action. To my distinct surprise, Ron looked more pleased than angry.

It's amazing what getting laid can do for a person's temperament.

"Thanks," he said simply.

I continued to stare uncomfortably at my shoes until Hermione rested a hand on my shoulder. "Look, Ginny," she said, "he's our best friend. What we went through together…you can't begin to imagine. We're worried about him, but we'll feel better knowing you're taking good care of him. You will take good care of him, won't you?"

Judging by the look on her face, she was torn between anxiety over Harry and respect for his privacy. I have to admit to a pang of jealousy when Hermione mentioned their journey. Did anyone even consider the agony I had been in? My brother, my best friend and the only man I have ever loved had been missing for nearly a year. Every day I woke and wondered if they were still alive. Every night I went to bed wondering if they too were sleeping. Now that the battle was over and I knew they were unscathed, relief was rapidly turning into resentment.

Look, I said I was sorry –

Could I please just tell my story?

Sorry.

It's all right.

"I certainly will," I said, pleased at least that they were putting his care in my hands. "He'll be all right. He's just upstairs now, sleeping it off. Once he had a bit of rest, a full stomach and a good wash, he'll come around."

I tried to sound more convinced than I felt.

"So," I said, deliberately trying to change the subject, "who are all these people?"

"Survivors," said Bill. The word hung heavy in the air as we took in the solemnity of the situtation. "Family that didn't want to be separated, mostly. I've just had a look; the castle's full of them. Even Fleur is sleeping upstairs at the moment. We all thought…well, we thought we'd best stick together, you know."

There was a tangible sense of sadness in the word. George was staring hard into the empty grate of the fireplace. Hermione snuck her arm around Ron's waist, to which he responded by slipping his arm over her shoulders. I sighed loudly to break up the tension, fearing that I would otherwise dissolve into tears.

"I think we ought to go down to the Great Hall," I suggested, shoving my hands into the pockets of my robes a little too forcefully. "It's still fairly intact, and if last night was any indication, the house-elves are probably cooking up some breakfast as we speak."

Hermione opened her mouth in protest, but seemed to think better of it. Then she said, "Yes, I think we could all do with a bit of food. Or at least each other's company."

Wait – she said WHAT?

We set off at a slow, wandering pace toward the Great Hall. The castle somehow looked even more ragged in the daylight, possibly because the sun was now shining through in places it never had before. Mercifully the weather was now mild and the breeze that swept through the corridors was warm. We passed a number of other Hogwarts defenders on our way, but short of waves and brief greetings, we kept our conversations to ourselves. Even in the Great Hall, where a brilliant blue sky shone through the half of the castle wall that had been blown apart, the general mood was quiet and solemn.

True to my suspicions, the house-elves had inundated the tables with a vast assortment of delicious foods. Unlike so many of the celebratory feasts that had filled the Hall with chatter and laughter, breakfast – or lunch, truthfully – acknowledged the heavy losses that had been sustained. Many of the survivors were still sleeping off war weariness. Those who wandered into the Hall were pensive and reserved. More often than not they were alone. My brothers, our plus-one, and myself kept largely to ourselves. Once we had finally spoken out loud about Fred's death and tearfully shared our grief with one another, we relaxed and found ourselves capable of something that looked very much like normal conversation. I took up a collection of sandwiches and a goblet of pumpkin juice. After spending what I reasoned to be a fair amount of time with my family, I made a vague excuse and stood up from the table.

"Mind the boys, will you?" I murmured to Hermione, flicking my wand to cause the pile of food on my plate as well as the goblet to disappear. Mercifully, we were such good friends that it needed no further explanation. Hermione nodded and immediately returned to the conversation. While she kept the others distracted, I was able to slip out of the room and trundle back up to Gryffindor Tower. The subtlety of the silent understanding between Hermione and me made my heart swell. I had forgotten just how much I had missed her these past long months.

The Fat Lady recognized me at once and, beaming, allowed me entrance without any pretense of a password. As I crawled into the opening, my heart sank, remembering that my parents were in the room. All I wanted was to tend to Harry; how could I explain that to them? Once inside, my eyes shot to the bunk between the stairs to the dormitories. Mum and Dad were both still there, still in a deep slumber. Thank god. I started to exhale noisily with relief, but caught myself midway. Luckily it passed unnoticed, and I successfully crept back up the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

After re-enforcing my protective enchantments, I pulled back the curtains to find Harry drenched in a cold sweat.

Lovely.

He had kicked the covers down to the foot of the bed and was tossing and turning with violent force. Concerned, I sat on the edge of the bed and debated shaking him awake. I hate to watch him suffer through a vicious nightmare, particularly after the events of the night before, but I was afraid that waking him abruptly from a sound sleep would be more startling than the dream itself. It gave my heart an unpleasant flop to hear him let out an agonized moan. I whispered his name softly, wondering if it would be enough. His eyebrows raised in panic.

"No…please…don't…" he croaked. There was so much fear and sadness in his voice that it made my decision for me. I grabbed his shoulder and gave it a gentle shake.

"Harry, you're dreaming. Wake up. It's okay, it's not real, it's just a dream," I said, a bit more loudly this time. His body stiffened in response as though I had fatally wounded him. Gasping as though he were drowning, he sat bolt upright with both eyes open wide. He stared at me for several minutes, seeing me but clearly not registering that I was there. His hand was clamped hard to my wrist and he was panting heavily.

"Ginny – you – you're here – you're alive – but I thought – I dreamed – he was – and you – " His desperate desire to understand was punctuated by shallow breaths. I pressed both my hands against his cheeks and forced him to look me in the eye.

"It's not real," I repeated in what I hoped was a calming voice. The truth was, hearing the content of his dream had made me somewhat panicky too. "You're all right. Everything's all right. I'm here and you're here and we're all right. We're at Hogwarts. Voldemort is dead. The war is over. We've won."

It took a few more minutes for him to wake and fully grasp the present situation. His eyes continued to dart around the room suspiciously, as though expecting a Death Eater to emerge from his wardrobe or underneath the bed. I resigned myself to the fact that he would probably be jumpy like this for the rest of his life. It reminded me of a story I'd once heard, about Mad-Eye Moody hearing a car backfire and proceeding to turn the entire street into jam. I repressed a giggle as I imagined Harry doing something similar.

You try having a seriously evil wizard try to kill you over and over again for seven years and we'll see how well you sleep at night.

Eventually his breathing slowed and he released his admittedly painful grip on my arm. I continued to hold his head in my hands, running my fingers soothingly through his damp hair. Once I saw that he was in a somewhat calmer state, I reached across and snatched one of the sandwich halves that I had conjured.

Could we please not make any reference to snatching ever again?

"Are you hungry?" I asked, offering him the sandwich. "I brought a bit of everything, though I sort of remember you liking roast beef, yeah?"

He didn't answer. It was as though he was in a trance; he simply stared at his hands with a faraway look in his eyes. Given the awful nightmare I was sure he'd just had, I could imagine why. When he finally spoke, it was with the world's weight on his shoulders.

"Ginny, I'm sorry."

"What? For…for what?" I asked, startled.

"For Fred. For everyone I've put in harm's way. I'm so sorry. And for ditching you and leaving you to wonder where I was, for all the worry I caused you. I feel awful about that now. I should've kept you informed, I should have – "

"Don't you dare do that, Harry Potter," I interrupted, sharp and stern. "Don't you dare start blaming yourself. Fred died trying to protect the wizarding world." It was difficult to keep my voice from faltering, but I pressed on regardless. "You had nothing to do with it. The battle would have happened no matter what you did. In fact, had you not confronted Voldemort, it would probably have been much worse. As for keeping me informed – you're barking! How in the name of Merlin would you have been able to do that? It was all you could do just to keep under the Death Eater's radar. Harry, you defeated Voldemort. You saved us all."

His apology, as well as the explanation he must have agonized to give me the night before, made me abandon my ill feelings about the months we had spent apart. For one heart-wrenching moment, I thought I had said the wrong thing. He had lifted his head to reveal streams of tears trickling down both cheeks. In all my life, despite growing up around boys, I had never seen a grown man cry. The sight of it broke my heart and I choked back tears of my own. No, I told myself resolutely, now is the time for strength.

"Harry." I spoke his name softly, soothingly, holding his head in my hands. With my thumb I brushed away the dampness underneath his eyelashes. "I re-enforced the enchantments from last night. No one can hear us, or see us for that matter. It's all right. Let go."