It's very late into the afternoon by the time Harry and Ginny decide they have had enough of Quidditch for today.
Hermione and Ron's laughter can be heard in the distance. The pair is currently sitting on the patio, enjoying a glass of fresh lemonade. They stopped playing two-a-side Quidditch some hours ago after Hermione complained of 'headaches'. Judging by the way she is now throwing back her head and roaring with laughter at something Ron has just said, Ginny doubts she was ever sick.
She sees Ron sipping his lemonade and groans inwardly. She would give anything to be allowed to summon a glass of water right now.
She has never felt filthier. Her hair is a mess, with stray strands plastered to her sweaty face, her cheeks are flushed, and her clothes are covered with mud. She knows she must look a fright, but she's too tired to care.
When they reach the end of the hill, Ginny collapses on the ground and lets out a huge sigh of exhaustion.
"I'm worn out," she mumbles.
"You are?" Harry looks down at her and smiles smugly. "What happened to your famous Weasley Power?"
She can tell he's fighting back a full grin. He looks way too fresh for someone who has spent the last four hours on a broom, and it's unfair. He must have drunk a potion that makes you look good even when you are sweaty and your hair is windswept, she is sure of it.
Ginny groans again, aloud this time. "Just leave me."
She closes her eyes and hears him chuckle. For a moment, she thinks he actually left, but then she hears a rustling of clothes as Harry lies down next to her. She is surprised at first, but the proximity isn't unpleasant. She decides she doesn't mind him there, his presence is almost comforting.
They stay like that for awhile, lying in silence on the grass and close enough to feel the other's body heat. A cool wind caresses her skin and Ginny inhales slowly. It's soothing, quiet, relaxing. It's–
"It's beautiful," Harry whispers.
Ginny opens her eyes to look at him. He's staring at the last rays of sunshine. His face seems to glow under the tangerine sky, eyes sparkling like two emerald stones. His lips bear the semblance of a smile. There is no crease on his forehead, no shadow under his eyes. He looks... serene, almost happy. And then she realises, for the first time in what must feel like forever, Harry is happy.
They hear Hermione laughing in the distance as Ron grabs her around the waist and spins her around.
Harry sighs. "I'm definitely using this memory next time I've to conjure a Patronus."
Something tightens in her chest, something she can't quite explain. "Yeah?"
He looks at her, eyes travelling over her face as if he's trying to memorize all of her features.
His grin stretches wide. "Yeah."
It's way after sunset by the time they finally join Hermione and Ron on the patio.