A/N: Alright, this super long chapter is a peace offering of sorts to try to make up for the horrific wait between this chapter and the last. The only excuse I have is I find writing this sort of thing more difficult than most the other parts of the story.

Special Note: Thanks to all my reviewers, especially the fifty or so who are still waiting for replies to thier reviews! I'm sorry, I like to answer reviews when I'm in the mood to consider everything everyone has to say, and I haven't really been in that mood of late. I hate just typing 'thanks' to a review!

Chapter Thirty-seven

The Reward

Ron watched his little sister lying silently on her hospital bed, occasionally twitching as though trying to elude some attack. She was often frowning deeply, sometimes grimacing in pain, and always oblivious to her brother's concerned presence.

Ron had been at her bedside for the last half hour alone, peeling an apple with a small knife, trying hard not to think about his family's reaction to the fact that he had gotten his girlfriend- fiancé, now – pregnant. He hadn't expected them to take the news easily, but this cold and distant disapproval was nearly killing him. What was worse, Hermione was feeling guilty for being in the centre of the tension between Ron and his family. She had started crying when Mrs Weasley had walked into the hospital wing to check on Ginny and had immediately turned away from the sight of Ron and Hermione at the girl's side. Ron had sent her up to get some rest and probably would have gone with her, had he felt less guilty about leaving Ginny alone.

She may have been the one to spill the beans to their family, but Ron cared about his little sister too much to let that keep him away while she was so clearly exhausted and worried.

Ron, tired of watching the pain his sister was trapped in, trailed his eyes over the spiralling apple skin. The shiny red coil was making slow progress downwards, drawing his gaze along its lightly curling length. Ron found that he couldn't stop the continuous peeling, even when he began to cut the flesh of the apple away. Sometime it felt like his life was a bit like that apple, all the bright parts slipping away from him slowly, taking a bit of his flesh, his heart with them…

Ron looked up suddenly when the doors at the other end of the ward swung open to reveal Bill. Neither Weasley said anything until the elder brother was facing the younger from across their sister's bed. Ron quietly set down both apple and knife on the table closest to him, the one on the left side of Ginny's bed.

"So, little brother," Bill began when Ron had settled quietly back into his chair, "Got yourself in a bit of trouble, did you?"

Ron frowned coldly, "No, I didn't. That's not the way I see this at all."

"You could very well be alone in that opinion," Bill said, eyes on Ginny and not Ron.

"What do you mean?" Ron growled menacingly, glaring daggers at his eldest brother's averted face.

"I mean that Mum seems pretty concerned that you've screwed up royally. Seems to think that you've ruined your own future and that of your little girlfriend," Bill said, still not accusingly, but far from supportively.

"Hermione's my fiancé, not my girlfriend," Ron grated out with a terrific scowl. "And we would have gotten married anyway, even without the baby."

"You can't really say that for certain," Bill said, still studying Ginny's troubled visage. When he was met only by silence, he glanced up at his younger brother for the first time. What he saw in the younger boy's face shocked him a bit. "You really believe that you would have been with this girl ten years down the line, even if this hadn't happened?"

"Hermione and I are meant to be together," Ron said, glaring ferociously and sounding nearly defiant. "We'd have been together forever no matter what did or didn't happen."

"Ron, you're seventeen!" cried Bill, "You honestly think that you know what love is? You think that you can tell you'll be with this girl forever?"

"Of course I can tell that we'll be together forever," Ron said, hands clenched in fists and held rigidly at his sides. "Hermione's my best friend. Not being with her would be wrong."

"Merlin, I don't know what it is with you younger ones," Bill muttered to himself in utter disbelief.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Ron asked, feeling affronted even as he watched his brother turn away and run his hands through his long hair in frustration.

"It means that I don't understand how you and Ginny seem to want to believe that you met your soul mates when you were eleven!" Bill cried out, trying to convey how much it concerned him that his younger siblings seemed willing to settle down to quickly. Bill sometimes worried about what he was missing out on now that he was married. He couldn't imagine the experiences that his younger siblings were giving up out of hand.

"Maybe you're just jealous that we did meet our soul mates when we were that young!" countered Ron angrily, "Besides, I'm hardly eleven anymore, and if I choose to spend the rest of my life with Hermione, I don't see what business it is of anyone else's!"

Ron stomped to the other end of the ward, hotly pursued by his elder brother. Just outside the doorway, Bill reached out and spun Ron around to face him again.

"Look," he began, looking a bit contrite, "Maybe I shouldn't have said those things, but do you really think that being with only one person from the time you're eleven is a good thing? Do you think it's healthy that Ginny's had a crush on Harry since practically before she could talk? Can you honestly say that's what you think?"

"You know what I think? I think that love, in whatever form it takes, is a positive thing," Ron snarled, his attitude not quite matching his peaceable words, "And I think that you're just jealous that there's nothing to your wife except a pretty face and a lot of high handed manners!"

Bill looked ready to punch Ron now, which Ron actually saw as a positive because he had been ready to go at it with his brother from the moment he opened his big mouth in the hospital wing. Still, aware of superior years and weight, Ron managed to hang back. He also had the vague feeling that his mother might actually kill him if he got into a fistfight with his brother at school, especially when everyone was already so worried.

"Look, Bill," Ron grated out after counting to twenty twice, "I want to make something perfectly obvious to you. I love Hermione, and I always will. I don't really know what's going on with Ginny and Harry, except that my little sister is currently extremely worried about my best mate, to the point where she has exhausted herself and is currently passed out. I don't care what you think I'm missing by marrying young, or what you seem to feel you've missed by marrying Fleur. I know that I'm right, and I know that I love Hermione, and that she loves me. And, most importantly, I know that that is all I really need to know."

The youngest of the pair turned with military precision and stomped off, stiff arms ending in hard fists, held tight to his sides. Bill just stared as Ron walked away. The eldest Weasley was considering going after Ron, either to knock the proper respect into him or to apologize, when he heard a hear-rending shriek from the ward behind him. Bill whipped around, fumbling for the door. By the time he had managed to rip it open and get just inside the ward, he was frozen with horror. Ginny was panting and twitching on the bed, and then, suddenly, she lunged for something on the table to her left. Bill saw, with a terrible, morbid fascination, the flash of a silver blade as Ginny slashed it across her own right hand with a jerky left-handed movement. Impossibly, the torturous pain seemed to leave the lines of her body as the gash was opened.

Bill then rushed to Ginny's side and wrenched the weapon from her hand. But by that time, she had already slid back to sleep, a tiny, self-satisfied smile on her lips.

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Quite suddenly, on the floor of Number Four Privet Drive's formerly spotless kitchen, Harry Potter began to feel a whole lot better about his extremely unpleasant position.

There was really no discernable reason for this, especially considering the fact that he had only just had just managed to throw off the torturous pain that Voldemort was levelling at him. He supposed that he could simply be revelling in the sudden end of the nerve smashing hurt, but it felt better than even that. But as he was unable to trace the sudden source of what could only be called hope, Harry decided to forget that and concentrate on his situation, which was still decidedly desperate, regardless of a vague hopeful feeling.

Early on in the fit, his enemy had managed to inflict some minor damage, but considering his standing as the most evil dark lord of the modern area, comparatively little. The real damage to Harry's defence was the fact that his wand had been knocked away from him roughly an hour before, when some flying debris had hit him, snapping his right wrist. Since then, Voldemort had been toying with him, making Harry pay for managing to defy him for so long.

Now, though, something had forced the pain from Harry's body and he was panting on the floor, with that strange and sudden hope surging through him. There had to be a way out of this, there just had to be.

But Harry was out of time to think up that idea. His nemesis had just stepped towards him, towering over the badly hurt teenager. Harry knew by the horrid glint in the red eyes before him that he probably wouldn't live through the next dose of pain. He gritted his teeth, and tried to sit up. That didn't pan out, so Harry was forced to roll over onto his stomach. Bracing all his weight on his left hand, to spare the broken right wrist, Harry came to the sudden startling conclusion that somehow he had missed receiving a hugely painful slash to that palm, right overtop the scar that had been left in the wake of his vow that Ginny was the only girl for him. Harry winced, but managed to lurch to his feet and stand facing Voldemort across a few feet of distance. He felt winded and unprepared for a fight, but at least it was better than crouching at the feet of the man bent on murdering him.

"So, little boy, there is still some fight left in you?" questioned the high cold voice of an evil maniac. Harry responded only with a slight sneer that he hoped would bug his foe. "Well, I'm am glad of that. Should I have defeated you any more easily than this, I would have been severely disappointed in all my past efforts to do so."

"So you think that I'm just here for the purpose of amusing the scummy likes of you?" spat Harry, trying to forget that he didn't have a wand or any other weapon beyond his own brain and cunning. The only other time that he ever felt this intellectually incapable was when he listened to Hermione talk about something he didn't get…

"You should be very glad that I find you amusing," Voldemort chided gently, "Otherwise you would be dead long since!"

"What makes you think you can kill me now, if you couldn't when I was a baby?" asked Harry, who had some vague idea that a plan might come to him, if he could distract Voldemort long enough.

"There is no foolish woman here to die for you this time," Voldemort declared, sounding angry to be reminded of the fact that he had been suppressed for fourteen years by the love a muggleborn bore her son.

"I don't need anyone to die for me, and I don't want anyone to either," Harry countered, desperately grasping for a plan.

"Oh? Then if your little red haired girlfriend were here, then you would, let's say, die for her?" Voldemort sounded very pleased with himself as he said it.

"I haven't got a girlfriend," Harry said, trying to keep from giving away the fear those words had caused in him, ignore the pain shooting through his wrist and come up with a plan all in one.

"But you did have one, I am told. The youngest girl of a family of blood traitors, according to the Malfoy boy," Voldemort said, much to Harry's absolute horror. Voldemort knew who Ginny was. If Harry couldn't come up with some way of stopping the maniac, then Ginny was as good as dead. "Have you any last words to say to her? I shall make sure to deliver the message after you die."

The cold smile on the reptilian face didn't chill Harry as much as it normally would have, but that's only because his insides were already frozen with terror for Ginny.

"I doubt you'll live long enough to tell her or anyone else anything," Harry stated boldly, though he wasn't at all certain of that.

"Very well, boy, I gave you a chance. Now, prepare to meet your death, and rest assured that I'll tell the girl that you died nobly, if stupidly." And with that, Voldemort raised his wand and levelled it at Harry's chest.

Harry knew that there was nothing he could do, except square his shoulders and face death. He intended to be standing tall when it came. I'm sorry I failed you, Ginny, he thought. Suddenly her face, eyes closed, tears streaming, filled his vision. Before Harry could react to that, a bright flash of green light blinded him, and he threw up his left, bleeding hand reflexively.

In the next moment, there was deathly silence. Voldemort said nothing, just looked at the pale teenager who had been forced to the ground.

Before the Dark Lord recovered from the shock of what he had seen, Harry brought up his still bleeding hand, and looked at it in awe.

Somehow, the force of Voldemort's Avada Kedavra had been absorbed by a sort of force field that seemed to stem from Harry's bleeding palm. Harry looked at it in wonder for a second before concluding that now was a time for action, not deliberation. He focused his mind on the power he could feel throbbing just beyond his grasp and forced it back towards Voldemort. The light was white now, instead of the sickly green, and when the force made contact with Voldemort, he shrieked in pain and cringed back a step. He tripped over a shadowy lump that Harry suddenly recognized as Snape's dead body. Not long before, that man had done something incredibly brave, and now, in death he managed to trip Voldemort up, so that the snake-like wizard collapsed in a graceless heap.

Voldemort writhed around in pain, trying his damnedest to evade the hot, burning energy that Harry was focusing on him. And then, he knew that it was too late for him. He was going to die, despite all the safeguards he had set against that, and he was going to do it at the hands of a mere boy, and an unknown curse. Oh, what Voldemort wouldn't have given in that moment for some recourse, some way to at the very least take the boy with him when he died!

But there was only one final thing he could do before he had to succumb to his fate. He grasped at the arm of the man he had so recently killed, and fumbled for the tattoo that was etched there forever. Voldemort pressed his thumb to it and hissed a command in Parseltongue that he had never expected to have to use.

Then, with his last act of malice done, Voldemort turned to his young foe and forced himself to meet green eyes that were wide with surprise and hard with hate. "Do not think that your victory is complete with my death. I have many followers, many loyal friends. They will continue to do my work, they will see that the filthy mudbloods and bloodtraitors are destroyed! They will-"

The weak hissings were suddenly cut off as Voldemort uttered a terrible, high, scream and finally died.

Harry dropped his hands to his sides and the power around him dissipated. He was left in complete numb shock, feeling only a distant, empty sort of petty when he looked at the two dead men and the severed snake in front of him.

For a few moments, Harry felt a vague need to throw up, but that eventually passed. Silently, he trudged up the stairs, leaving the mess in his hallway behind him. Harry had only two thoughts as he trudged into the smallest bedroom, which had been his since shortly before his eleventh birthday.

The first was that it was amazing that the whole conflict had been contained in the entrance way, and the second was that his aunt would kill him when she saw the bloodstains on the carpet where Nagini still lay.

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Harry slept for a day and a half. When he woke up, he was ravenous, and slightly stiff, because the mattress on his old bed sagged in the middle and had several uncooperative springs that insisted on poking him in the back no matter which way he turned. His first thought, as he glanced around the bedroom was vaguely along the lines of getting up to start breakfast for the Dursleys. Then he realised that the Dursleys weren't there to eat it.

It wasn't until he tried to remember where his aunt and her family were that he remembered the conflict from the early hours of the previous day. Harry glanced about him, and his eyes lit on the alarm clock that he had repaired seven years previously. It was two o'clock in the afternoon, and Harry knew that he had to get up and do some things. For starters, there was a very large mess in the hallway.

And suddenly, it was even more urgent that Harry get up, because the nauseous feeling had returned, and this time Harry didn't even try to fight it back. His stomach rid itself of mostly nothing as he hadn't eaten since four, two days ago, and his mind tried very hard to rid itself of images of Voldemort laying dead on top of Snape, only a few feet away from the mangled corpse of a giant snake.

Harry lingered upstairs a half hour more, washing up a bit in the upstairs bathroom (and rediscovering every injury, including his broken wrist, in the process), not wanting to face that scene again for real on his way to the kitchen. He finally did it, trying not to look as he hurried past. Harry didn't really know what to do about that mess. He knew he couldn't bring his aunt back her with the dead still in front of the front door, but Harry couldn't think of anyway of disposing of them on his own. He supposed he could go to McGonagall, but Harry didn't feel ready to face anyone back at school. He had the suspicious feeling that everything that had happened really hadn't registered yet, and that it would when he was back at Hogwarts. Harry thought of Remus suddenly. The older wizard was possibly the best person for Harry to try and contact because he didn't ask a lot of questions, and he was, after all, Harry's guardian, wasn't he? Besides, Remus could probably get Tonks or some other Auror to deal with the dead.

So, with that thought in mind, Harry began to think about where he could find the former professor. He finally decided to send him a message via patronus. But Harry didn't like the idea of staying in Privet Drive to wait for a response, so he decided to go to Grimmauld Place first. Which reminded Harry that he had yet to check on his cousin, as his aunt had asked him to. Harry decided that he would do that first, because he had promised to, and then go to his godfather's house.

The problem was, that Harry wasn't quite certain where Smeltings, Dudley's school, was located. By the time Harry had searched through all the kitchen drawers and finally found a paper with the school's information on it, an hour had passed, and he truly needed to find something to eat. So he raided the refrigerator and put together a rough meal, awkwardly using his left hand to spare the broken wrist that he had bound with a torn sheet in hopes of not damaging it more before he saw a healer. Finally, Harry felt ready to leave. Except that he didn't have his invisibility cloak, which was likely somewhere in the hall still. Harry didn't really feel like going back in the hall to get it. So Harry reached for his wand, thinking to summon the cloak.

With a uncomfortable drop in the vicinity of his stomach, Harry remembered seeing his wand clatter away in the direction of the living room when his wrist was broken. So, seeing no alternative, Harry dashed through the hallway, passed the carnage and into the living room. After two very frustrating hours, Harry finally found his wand wedged under a bookshelf. Harry might have looked there sooner, but he hadn't thought the space under the shelf was large enough to accommodate the wand. Nearly crying tears of relief, Harry summoned the cloak, disappeared under it and with no further delays, Apparated to his cousins school.

Harry arrived a half-hour before dinner in their Dining Hall was cleared. Harry had quickly spotted his cousin, and decided that he would have to wait until he could catch him alone to check on him and perhaps fill him in a little. Harry wasn't certain what he would say, but he felt that he should at least mention to his big bully of a cousin that his parents had temporarily relocated. Besides, Harry didn't really think it counted as checking on Dudley just to watch the pig like boy scarf down enormous amounts of food from across the room. Dudley could be fleeing for life and still stop for something to eat, so Harry felt the only way to honestly tell his aunt that her son was alright was to ask the blonde pig himself.

So Harry trailed Dudley until he excused himself to go to the washroom, then finally pulled off the cloak. The first smile Harry had smiled since defeating his foe formed on his lips as he saw Dudley's terrified eyes register his cousin's sudden appearance.

"What are you doing here?" he snapped, roughly shoving the smaller boy aside.

"I am checking on you, as per your mother's request," Harry said, doggedly catching up with his ape of a cousin. "Are you alright?"

"Why should I tell you?" asked Dudley, stopping in the dark hallway to look at Harry.

"Because your mother sent me to make sure that you haven't been captured by death eaters or killed like hundreds of other muggles recently," Harry grated out, wondering why he couldn't have just said 'no' to his aunt. Its not like he really owed her anything.

"Keep it down!" Dudley admonished, glancing around, making sure that no one had overheard any part of his conversation with his freaky cousin.

"Whatever, just tell me you're alright so I can tell Aunt Petunia that you don't want to come stay in my dead Godfather's house, alright?" Harry asked in a heated whisper, really wanting to get away from his cousin now.

"Why would mum think I want to stay in your godfather's house?" Dudley asked suspiciously. He was far from brilliant, but he had picked up on that oddity.

"Because that where she and Uncle Vernon have been for the last two days, since Voldemort laid siege to Privet Drive at my invitation," Harry sighed, resigned to continuing the conversation.

"You invited a maniac to attack our house?" asked Dudley, grabbing at Harry's arms as if to shake some sense into him.

"Yeah, it was a trap," Harry explained, gritting his teeth as Dudley jarred his broken wrist, "It worked, too, if you're interested. I killed the Dark Tosser. Of course, not before he murdered my Potions Professor and not before Professor Snape killed Voldemort's pet snake."

"You killed someone?" laughed Dudley, "You?"

"Yeah, using this," Harry hissed harshly, drawing his wand on his cousin, using his left hand because his right one really wanted to do nothing but hang limply at his side for the moment.

Dudley immediately relinquished his grip on his cousin and began to back away. "Look, Harry, buddy, just- just tell mum I'm alright, okay? Tell her I'm just going to stay here," stuttered Dudley.

"Fine, have it your way," Harry snapped, too fed up to even find Dudley quivering from fear amusing. He popped away soundlessly in his not-quite-apparating way so that he could slide around the wards on Sirius's house.

When he appeared in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, he was welcomed by a shriek and the tinkling of shattered china as his aunt dropped her tea cup.

"Hello, Aunt Petunia," Harry said tiredly, not sure if he could put up with his relatives just then, but knowing that he should try.

"Harry!" She cried, "What's happened?"

So Harry told her everything. He just sat down and began to talk, not caring that it was his magic-shy aunt he was talking to. Harry felt entirely incapable of doing anything but sitting at the kitchen table and talking while he ate the food his aunt put in front of him. When he was done with his story, including his talk with Dudley, Harry stared contemplatively down at the plate. Usually his aunt's meals were better…

"Sorry," she said with a faint blush when she saw the directions of his gaze, "There's not much food in this place to work with."

"Oh," Harry said, yawning widely. He should probably send a note to Remus…

"Maybe you should go up to bed," Petunia suggested gently.

Harry nodded, not bothering to make any other response. He got up and headed for the stairs, but paused when he drew level with his aunt. He leaned toward her slightly, and kissed her cheek. He hadn't done that since he was a very small boy, Harry recalled. He had stopped because she had flinched every time he had done it in the past, but this time she just stood there.

That, more then his mother's rings or any of the words that had passed between them, gave Harry the tiniest bit of hope for their future relationship.

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Very early the next morning, Harry woke up in the bedroom that Ginny had picked out for him last summer, feeling as though he had forgotten to do something. Remembering suddenly, Harry sat up and sent his patronus off with a message for Remus. Harry considered getting up, but found that the idea didn't appeal to him at all. So, instead, Harry lay down again and fell back to sleep nearly instantly.

Several hours later, Harry was awoken as someone burst into his room. "Harry?" cried a voice, haggard and worry-filled.

Harry sat up, squinting around him. Before he could so much as locate his glasses, he found himself caught in a fierce hug. When the large person pulled back, Harry fumbled so that he could see the person through the round lenses. Remus sat beside him, tears running down his cheeks.

"What's wrong?" asked the teen, his stomach plummeting.

"We all thought you were dead!" he cried, looking very emotional still.

"Why?" asked Harry, rather surprised. Sure he had been gone a couple days, but wouldn't a sudden cease to dark activities sort of send the message that Voldemort was gone, and not Harry? Perhaps everyone thought that they had killed each other?

"Well, we didn't hear from you, and then, when the Death Eaters attacked the castle, it seemed like Voldemort was making a final move after k-killing you," Remus explained, seizing Harry in another hug before the words were all out.

"Wait a minute!" cried Harry, panic stricken at the mention of an assault on the castle, pushing his friend away, "Voldemort attacked Hogwarts? He couldn't have, I killed him!"

"Are you certain? We didn't find him in the aftermath of the battle, but we thought that he had just escaped! Are you certain he is dead?" Remus asked, grabbing Harry by the shoulders, once again sending pain through the boy's wrist.

"Yes," Harry pronounced, remembering the image of his dead foe, "I saw his body just this afternoon, laying right where I left it, at Privet Drive."

"You left him laying in your aunts home?" gasped Remus, going pale. "What did she say when she saw that?"

"She hasn't seen it yet," Harry replied, trying not to think about the pile of mangled bodies that were just lying in a congealed pool of snake blood. "I brought her and Uncle Vernon here before I lured Voldemort to their house. Dudley is at school right now, and is perfectly fine. He wanted to stay there, even though I think his mother would have preferred that he at least come home long enough that she could see with her own eyes that he's okay, and not have to take my word for it. Now, will you tell me about Hogwarts?"

"Early yesterday morning, they attacked amass. It went better than it could have, thanks to your warning, even if you didn't really know," Remus began, then frowned, "Unless, of course, Miss Weasley was mistaken in her perception of the situation. Did you know that the dark forces would be hitting the school?"

"No," Harry sighed, remembering Voldemort's finial words and actions, "They didn't know either, until Voldemort was as good as dead."

"What do you mean? Wasn't there any plan of attack?" Remus asked.

"No, I don't think there was," Harry replied. "Voldemort was dying, and he knew it. He crawled over to Snape and pressed his Dark Mark and hissed something at it in Parseltongue."

"What did he say?" Remus asked almost fearfully, knowing that Harry could speak to snakes as well.

"He said 'kill their future'. I didn't really pay attention," Harry said with a frown, "I was pretty out of it with relief when the dust finally settled."

"I'm sure you would be," Remus said, trying to be sympathetic even though he knew that he would never fully understand the reality of being the number one person on the hit list of a cold blooded Dark Lord while still in school.

"Would you please tell me what happened at school?" Harry demanded, finally loosing patience entirely with the man's questions.

"Well, the lot of them just threw themselves at the gates until they collapsed. The gates have always been the weak point in the castle wards, because so many different people come and go. We had defenders staked everywhere, especially close to the castle itself, patrolling and on the look out. Really, we were just keeping everyone busy and out of the way, once Ginny let slip that there wasn't actually supposed to be an attack." Remus gave Harry a slightly disapproving glare at this, still not over the boy's trickery and manipulations.

"Ginny told you that?" frowned Harry, "I figured she would be the last to give up the secret."

"Well, you had that girl nearly hysterical with fear for your life," Remus reprimanded Harry, "She was ranting a bit deliriously about bunnies and secret affairs. I don't suppose you want to tell me what that's about, do you?"

"Ginny and I had our own sort of inside jokes. We both plan to confess our secret affair at each other's funerals," Harry said with a faint smile, remembering the ways that lame joke had evolved. "We never did work out how we're both going to manage to be at the other's funeral. I suppose we'll both just have to live forever."

"I suppose you will," Remus said, smiling a little, glad to know that Harry sometimes did behave like a kid. "Although, I wouldn't put it past Ron to kill you both because in the course of her ramblings, it came out that Hermione's pregnant."

Suddenly Harry's face split into a wide grin. "You do realize that this all means that their kid can grow up in a safe world, don't you?"

"Yeah, in a safe world with a pair of teenagers for parents," Remus said, slightly pessimistically.

"They'll be fine," Harry said, with a steely determination, "Ron and Hermione were meant to be together. It just happened a little sooner than is conventional."

"I guess, as your guardian, I'll just be glad that you're not in the same boat," Remus said, before his grin turned slightly sly, "Unless you and Miss Weasley have something to tell everyone yourselves?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said with a wide grin, "Ginny and I are just really good friends."

"Sure, like you'll confess to a secret affair at all of your friends funerals," Remus teased. Suddenly the happiness died from Harry's face.

"And how many of those funerals will I be attending in the near future?" he asked solemnly.

"None, actually," Remus replied, "Our side was well prepared, thanks largely to you and your DA. I won't tell you that there weren't an awful lot of injuries, but it definitely could have been worse."

"Who is the worst off?" asked Harry, though he was nearly afraid to hear the reply.

"Well, Minerva will be taking the next year off to fully recuperate after loosing a bit more blood than was good for her. Neville Longbottom lost an arm in the process of stopping two Death Eaters from getting through the line of defenders. Bill Weasley will probably always walk with a limp. There were two werewolf bites, and a lot of people were hurt as well, that I've not heard of yet, I'm sure." Remus said, talking quietly and looking a little sad.

"Ginny? Ron and Hermione? Their baby? The other Weasleys?" Harry forced himself to stop adding names so that Remus could answer him.

"Ginny was unconscious in the infirmary at the time, with a case of stress and exhaustion. Hermione was convinced to remain with her for the sake of the baby. Ron caught a couple of nasty curses, but should be in perfect health in no time. Arthur may yet loose a leg, but we won't know for certain for a few hours yet at least. Molly stayed with the children in the Great Hall, and missed the whole fight. She's been in the infirmary ever since the biggest part of the enemy force was put down. Bill, like I said, will probably limp, Charlie may have to stay away from Dragons until he fully recovers from a head injury. The twins are fine, they were with the force guarding the younger students. Anyone else you want to know about right now?" asked Remus when he finished.

"I think I want to check on them all now. I'll find out everything else for myself," Harry said, extremely eager to see Ginny.

After all, the war was over, and Voldemort gone. Any time now, they could announce to the world and their closest friends that they were together and planned to stay that way forever.

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Harry hurried over the Hogwarts grounds, towards the lake, where he had been told that Ginny was out taking a break from helping to nurse their wounded friends. He finally caught sight of her bright hair. A grin spread across Harry's face and he slowly meandered towards her, hands tucked in his pockets, soaking in the sight of her. She was seated, legs curled beside her, facing away from him, staring out over the water. Her hair hung loose to her waist, nearly hitting the ground, covering her back, but unable to disguise the graceful lines of her body. Harry watched her as he came toward her, enjoying the peaceful sight. The only time Ginny was this still usually was when she was sleeping. Ginny was almost always in motion otherwise, sometimes stroking his arm, playing with her hair, some small movement, always. Except now she sat staring across the water, perfectly still.

Harry felt the slightest twinges of foreboding but brushed that aside as anticipation of being with her again after what felt like a life time apart. He went to stand right behind her, just to her right before saying anything to announce his presence. Then, with a crooked smile, he spoke up. "Hey, babe, fancy meeting you here."

Ginny didn't say anything for a moment. She remained silent long enough for Harry to get nervous, before launching herself to her feet and into his arms. Harry had time only to register her gorgeous brown eyes turned up to meet his owns before she smashed her lips into his. Ginny's kiss was needy and full of a desperation that Harry couldn't understand, by attempted to match anyway. After a short eternity, Ginny pulled back. Both we gasping for breath, and it was in that second that Harry caught sight of something alarming in Ginny's eyes.

"I hope you enjoyed that, Harry Potter, because this is goodbye," she said, and walked away from him, back up to the castle.