Chapter 10 – Familiarity.

Kissing Ginny was like nothing on Earth. It was out of this world.

But this was no surprise to Harry. He already knew that.

The kisses they'd shared during his previous year at Hogwarts had proved that. All those stolen moments they'd had – in deserted corridors, by the lake, under a Quidditch stand – were all testimonies to the fact.

He had gathered those memories, like priceless jewels to be pored over when he was alone, and in the year gone by, they had in equal measure, both kept him awake and helped him sleep. They'd tortured and delighted him in turns.

The fact that these new kisses had the same effect on him came as no surprise.

He was, however, surprised by the effect that simply holding her had on him. How had he not remembered this part of their relationship with the same vividness?

The feel of her in his arms…

The sensation of her hair on his cheek…

Her racing heart against his own chest…

It was like a balm, soothing away the wounds of the past. Or maybe it was more like a gasp of air to a drowning man. He couldn't decide.

After standing in each other's arms for what could have been minutes or hours, they'd eventually sat where they were, still wrapped together tightly.

He couldn't take his eyes off her. He hardly dared blink in case the scene evaporated.

Every now and then, he dipped his head down to her to kiss her hair, or cheek, or palm, and each time he did, he marveled at it all over again. They were finally together.

Ginny seemed to read his thoughts. "Did you ever think we might not get here?"

He considered it. "No, I knew we would eventually." He tentatively brushed a few stands of gold away from her face. "I knew how I felt."

She sighed contentedly and her eyes fluttered closed. "We'll have to go in, soon," she breathed, not opening them.

Instinctively, his arms tightened around her. "One more minute…"

He knew that once they were back in the castle, the moment he would have to let her go would come all the sooner, and the very idea of it hurt him physically.

God, she looked beautiful… Her head gently leaning back, her creamy skin, her lips ever so slightly parted…

He leaned down to kiss her again – not with the feather-light kisses of earlier, but with surety and the merest hint of desire. His lips lingered longer than they had before, and when he finally pulled back, he stayed only a breath away from her. He heard her breath catch in her throat, and she craned upwards to press her lips to his once again. He felt her hands tighten their grasp on his robes as she caught his bottom lip between both of hers, and he felt their pressure increase infinitesimally.

After several earth-shattering moments, he pulled back, leaving his forehead resting on hers. He breathed again, not having noticed that he'd stopped, and his eyes remained shut.

He swallowed hard and a small sigh escaped.

"Okay…" he whispered. "We'd better go in…"

They stood and began the walk back to the common room, Ginny's arm still wrapped around his waist, Harry's arm around her shoulder, and they braced themselves for the looks and comments they knew they were heading towards.

The common room was quiet. Most people were still at dinner in the Great Hall and the few that lingered in the common room were distracted and subdued.

Harry and Ginny took advantage of the lack of audience to curl up on the sofa together, unseen for the moment.

It all felt gloriously familiar to him. It was as if he had been transported back to his last year at school, with Ginny leaning against him in front of the fire, her head nestled into his shoulder, her fingers laced into his. But there was no feeling of foreboding, like before. No sense of needing to savour every precious second before it was snatched away. She was here, warm and corporeal in his arms, delightfully tangible after so many months of dreams and imaginings, and stretched out in front of them were days, weeks, months of togetherness. And for the moment, blissful anonymity. They could have been sitting under the Invisibility Cloak for all the attention the common room's few inhabitants had given them. It was not what they had been expecting.

He dragged his eyes away from Ginny's peaceful face and gave the room a quick glance. There were three other students in the room with them. Each sat alone – one absent-mindedly flicking through a book, her face blank and her eyes unseeing of the words. One was idly doodling on a scrap of parchment. The other figure caught Harry's attention. It was Denis Creevey. He was watching the sky darken, his expression pinched.

Of course. Colin.

It occurred to Harry that it was in fact the same day of the Memorial. How was that possible? Surely days and nights had passed since that devastatingly sad hour at the lake?

His brain struggled to grasp it. Although HE was happier and freer than he'd been in his entire life, for most of the other students in the castle, they were still trapped in that awful, difficult day, still careering about amongst emotions of loss, grief and anger.

Harry's heart plunged momentarily as he remembered.

Ah, yes – there it was. The guilt. So it hadn't left him entirely. It still lurked in the shadows, somewhere.

But with gratification, he noted that the emotion didn't bite the way it had. It hadn't tried to suffocate him or drown him in the way he'd become accustomed to, although he steeled himself for it anyway. Instead, it hovered in his chest long enough to make itself known, before skulking and retreating backwards and finally disappearing altogether when he felt Ginny stir slightly in his arms.

He smiled to himself.

"You okay?" Ginny mumbled. She twisted around to see his face, and a waft of her delicious flowery scent found Harry. He breathed it in.

"There are no words for how far beyond 'okay' I am!" he smiled.

She chuckled softly.

"It's just…" He allowed himself a small sigh. "I suppose it's just hard, realizing that not everyone else is okay. That's all."

She replaced her head in the crook of his shoulder, where it fit so well, it might have been designed to go there.

"They WILL be okay," she said with a quiet confidence.

After a second he said, "There really is no doubt in your mind, is there?"

"Well, no," she said, matter-of-factly. "Remember how you said you always knew you and I would get to this point? I suppose it's like that. Because of it, really. Because, if you and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, then it proves there's hope for all of them." She snuggled further into him. "We're just luckier – we got there sooner because we have each other."

His heart fluttered at that.

"We do have each other, don't we?" he echoed. "I like the sound of that."

"Mmm."

And so they sat, lost in their own thoughts, whilst Harry indulged himself in the one thing that had tormented him more than any other over the summer – that hair. He reached out his fingers and caressed it softly to begin with, almost timidly, as if he couldn't believe he was allowed to do it. Then, braver, he let his fingers slide into it – heavy and red and silky beyond imagining – and pulled them through it, ever so gently. He repeated the gesture, and felt his fingertips brushed the creamy skin over her cheekbone.

And all over again, he rejoiced at the situation.

This was the scene Ron and Hermione found as they entered the common room from dinner, although they did not notice until they were almost right in front of them.

"Surely you don't want to start the Potions required reading this evening, do you? Not after the day we've had!" grumbled Ron as he approached the sofa from behind, barely registering the top of Harry's head leaning against it's back. "Leave it 'til tomorrow and we'll get a fresh start on it."

Harry could hear Hermione's voice getting closer, and he wondered if he should extricate himself from Ginny a little before they appeared. He quickly decided against it – he was far too comfortable.

"We did miss a whole year, Ron. Maybe we ought to just look over some of the older stuff, just to refresh our memories..? Oh, alright – no need to glare at me! We'll leave it until tomorr- Oh!"

She'd slowed her pace down to almost a full stop beside them. Ron almost plowed into her as she stared at the entwined pair.

"What?...Oh!" His reaction, like his expression, was the same as Hermione's.

Ginny beamed up at them whilst Harry grinned sheepishly.

No one spoke. The two couples regarded each other for a long moment.

"Uh, Ginny, I was just telling Ron about that book you mentioned. I don't suppose you could show me where in the library you found it? Before it closes for the night?" Hermione was obviously trying to convey some message with her eyes, if somewhat unsuccessfully.

Ginny groaned. "Urgh… I find it every hard to believe there's a square inch of that library you're not familiar with, Hermione. Can't we do it tomorrow?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "No. Now."

Ginny finally understood her meaning and reluctantly disentangled herself from Harry. She rolled her eyes, muttering, "I'll be twenty minutes, tops, okay?"

Hermione linked her arm through her friends' in an uncharacteristically girly way and towed her towards the exit. As she turned her back to the boys, Harry heard her mutter, "Goodness, Ginny, is it Christmas already?!"

He laughed softly to himself, remembering their conversation on the train.

Ron plopped down on the sofa looking a little shell-shocked.

"You okay, mate?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, just… Yeah. Weird day, that's all."

Harry nodded in agreement, then screwed up his courage. He might as well get this out of the way.

"Look, are you going to be alright about this?" he asked.

Ron looked startled. "What, THIS? You mean you and Ginny? Well, yeah. Course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Er, well, the lecture you gave me last summer on my birthday might have caused me to think otherwise..?"

Now it was Ron's turn to look sheepish. "Ahh, that. Mmm. Yeah, I might owe you an apology there."

Harry frowned. He was not expecting that.

"Don't get me wrong," Ron continued, "I meant every word of it at the time. You didn't see what Ginny was like, that summer, before you arrived. She was…" He struggled to find a word for it, "… desolate. She spent all her time in her room on her own, or outside under that stupid tree. Mum put it down to Dumbledore dying and everything, but I knew the real reason. It was actually quite painful to watch. She perked up a bit when you arrived – actually started to act like she was alive! But then I saw the two of you in her room, and I wanted to hit you for being so stupid! I knew what would happen – she'd get her hopes up again, you'd leave and I wouldn't be around to keep an eye on her… I just couldn't see it ending well, for either of you."

Harry shook his head, still baffled. "I don't get it. What changed?"

Ron shrugged and said one word. "Hermione."

He didn't speak for a bit, his eyes far away.

"When we were trapped in Malfoy Manor… I understood perfectly why you'd ended it, why you left her behind. We were stuck in that awful cellar and I could hear her screaming…" His face was dark with the memory of it. "It was the worst moment of my life – knowing that they were hurting her and knowing I could do nothing about it. I'd have swapped places with her in a heartbeat. And I wished she was a million miles away, safe. Anywhere but there. Because anything would have been preferable to that torture – for either of us. It was unbearable."

He shook his head, unable to look at Harry, trying to hide the emotion in his face.

"I could never be angry with you for leaving Ginny after that. You did it because you cared about her – to save her that." He looked at Harry with a sad smile.

"And now?" Harry prompted.

"Now – there's no problem, as far as I'm concerned! The world is saved, there are no crazed Death Eaters or evil Dark Lords trying to do you in –" They both chuckled at that. "There's just us, now. I know how much you care about her and I know you would do everything in your power to keep her safe and make her happy. And if I'm honest… no one else is good enough for her."

Harry looked away, embarrassed.

"Thanks, Ron. That means a lot."

Both of them stared at the rug on the floor, uncomfortable with the exchange of emotions.

When Ron spoke next, his voice was thick with feeling.

"Harry, you're more than just my best friend. I count you as one of my brothers. You know that? And… no one else is good enough for you, either."

Harry didn't know how to answer that. Instead, he patted Ron's shoulder heavily, trying to communicate the wealth of feeling he had at that moment for the lank, red-haired teenager next to him in a clumsy gesture.

Ron cleared his throat and stood.

"Right, I'm going to raid the kitchens and get some hot chocolate ready for when the girls get back." He turned for the door, but then changed his mind and looked back at Harry. "Do me a favour, though, yeah? Try and keep all the kissing and stuff to a minimum when I'm around?"

Harry nodded. "Right back at you, mate."

"Ha! Got it."

And with that, they reached an understanding about their respective relationships, and also about their own.

That night, Harry dreamed.

It was not like the nightmares that had once plagued him during his nights in the Gryffindor dorm. This dream frustrated him, but did not unsettle him.

He was somewhere in the grounds of Hogwarts, but it did not look like the grounds that he was familiar with. The grass, normally neatly trimmed underfoot, reached to his waist, and Harry had to wade through it as if through water, pushing it out of his way with his hands. Rhododendrons as tall as he was grew haphazardly in his path, mingling with enormous nettles. Trees that he didn't remember existing grew tall overhead, blocking out much of the light from what he knew (in that strange, dream-like fashion of simply knowing a fact without evidence) was the brightest blue sky.

He was exhausted already, although he'd only walked a few feet.

He knew that somewhere beyond the wild, unruly wilderness of nettles and trees, allowed to flourish with years of neglect, was Hogwarts castle itself, and if he just kept going, he'd find it.

He could hear voices in the distance, muffled by the thick vegetation. They were friendly voices, calling out to gauge one another's whereabouts – encouraging and positive.

Harry tried to move faster, pushing through the grass more vigorously.

Above all the voices, he could hear Ginny's. She was calling his name, drawing him to her.

His limbs ached with the effort, but he kept going.

Finally, he saw some light ahead of him. He all but bounded through the last few feet of overgrown wasteland, the voices calling to him, louder and clearer.

Suddenly, he burst through into the glorious sunlight.

He was in a clearing. The grass was at its usual height, the trees behind him. He could see the castle, a little in disrepair, but whole and in its entirety.

Other figures emerged into the clearing. Hermione, Ron, Dumbledore, and of course, his radiant Ginny. The last people to appear were his parents, looking exactly as they did in his photographs.

They gazed around at each other, laughing in relief at having been found and seeing the castle, decrepit but there.

He could hear himself laughing and as he woke, surfacing through layers of consciousness, he was laughing still, his voice loud in the quiet dorm.

The sense of relief he'd felt consumed him still as he looked at his familiar surroundings.

There was a noise at the door, and Ron, already dressed, poked his head around the curtains of his bed.

"Oh, great, you're awake! Get up, get dressed and come with me!"

"Why? What's the hurry? It's still early," he muttered sleepily.

"The new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor has just arrived," Ron enthused, "and you are not going to BELIEVE who it is!"