52

Ginny

He looked so peaceful now when he slept. It was a far cry from what she remembered every summer he'd stayed at the Burrow. Ron and Harry might not have thought of it, but without the silencing charms they were used to casting while at school, she could hear it every time he'd had a nightmare. Ginny could think back on countless nights, long before she'd been able to call Harry a friend even, when she'd awoken to hearing Harry thrash around or crying out upstairs. She was always trapped, unable to do anything to comfort him; it was only in the last year at Hogwarts, during summer and winter holidays, that he'd started leaving Ron's room after particularly bad nightmares and she could casually walk down, pretending she'd wanted a glass of milk, and "stumble" upon Harry in the living room. He'd been embarrassed the first time, but he'd still talked a bit, and he seemed more relaxed after talking than when he'd first entered the room. Ginny had known that somehow, her presence calmed him; and for then, it was enough.

Now, she watched his chest rise and fall, slow, steady breaths, and she savored each intake. He was alive. Alive, and rugged even in sleep, his tousled hair thankfully clean but still long, reaching the bottom of his chin and touching his shoulders in the back. His face was untroubled for the first time in months- years, really; Harry's forehead was smooth and his chin was covered in three days' worth of stubble that she'd felt last year when he'd kiss her. Godric, he was a sight for sore eyes.

Kreacher popped into the room with deadly accuracy right beside her perch on the chair, silent but startling, and Ginny was lucky she'd cast a silencing spell on herself the last time he'd done it.

"Master is still sleeping," he observed, and Ginny was tempted to chuckle before she remembered that he wouldn't be able to hear it. Kreacher had been waiting to feed his Master for the last twenty seven hours since Harry had fallen asleep, the plate of sandwiches, fresh fruit and assorted pasties covered by time-lock spells and a refrigerant charm that Ginny was grateful she'd picked up from her Mum. She nodded her head, lifting the silencing charm, and Kreacher bowed low.

"Mistress," he addressed her, "would you be liking anything? Kreacher can get you tea if you wish," and Ginny shook her head. "I'd love a good pot of hot chocolate, though, I think Harry would love it when he gets up," she offered, thinking of how thin he'd felt when she'd hugged him after the sunrise.

"Kreacher, can you bring whipped cream for it? He really is skinny," Ginny asked, and Kreacher's eyes assessed his Master's sleeping form darkly.

"Yes, Master has not been feeding himself at all, Kreacher sees," he snipped, and Ginny giggled.

Kreacher popped out to the kitchens and returned later with a tray laden with hot chocolate, two mugs, a frothy jam jar filled with whipped cream, and a bowl full of fluffy marshmallows. Ginny could have swooned when she dipped one in the hot chocolate and the rich liquid stuck to the sides like melted honeydukes.

She closed her book, which she had only been reading to pass the hours until he awoke, and settled down by the small table on the floor, crossing her legs over the throw rug that she was nestled in. Humming, she flipped through the album she'd brought with her from the DA room yesterday, the one Susan had been making. She had recorded the final casualty count from the battle yesterday inside, marking victims and their attackers inside to preserve some form of the ridiculous, garbled memories from the day before in her mind. Dennis waved at her from one, beaming at his brother who was likely taking the picture, and Ginny felt her gut twist as she was reminded that unlike all the others, Colin had not a single picture. He had taken them all.

Sighing, she paged through the others, slowly but surely labeling the names of each person in the photos, along with their year and house. Neville, strong and confident, barked orders at a simulation group in one photo. Ernie bandaged Seamus in another, who was fighting with a hacked off Lavender. Yellow canaries flitted in and out of the frame, and Ginny had to chuckle, wondering if Lav had gotten the idea from Hermione herself. Yulang, Demelza, Audrey, and a bunch of fifth years were swinging from the ceiling, practicing low-range levitation for disillusioned spying, and Hannah was sitting next to Luna, shaking with laughter, as Luna painted her own high-heels a bright neon yellow to clash with her kitchen.

Some of them were gone now. Ella and Wade had both died, targeted as Slytherins who'd fought for the Order. Augustine had turned on them and was now on the run, though she'd suspected he might have jumped ship long ago and had stopped giving him information back near Easter. Lavender was gravely injured, the Patil girls had been knocked unconscious when their Durmstrang shield absorbed a nasty curse and had yet to awaken, and Ginny had seen the bodies of ten fifth and sixth years in the corridor outside the charms classroom, lined up carefully on the linen burial cloths provided next to Colin and Fred. Remus and Tonks were resting nearby, white and cold in death, and Tonks' hair had faded to brown as she'd been moved. There were too many dead. Fred was dead. The thought still hit her like an anvil to the chest, and she pulled away from its icy grip, trying to keep the tears that threatened to overcome her at bay.

"Is that from this year?" came Harry's voice behind her, and she jumped with a startled "ho!" from the floor. Harry was standing behind her, his sock-covered feet quiet on the carpet, leaning over to see the pictures with startling emerald eyes.

"Yeah, these are my fighters," she said softly, touching the photo with Demelza, Romilda, and the other girls giggling as they stirred another batch of paint.

"We heard on the road that you'd started up the DA again," Harry murmured, crouching down to sit by her. Ginny felt her heart flutter as his knee came to rest against hers. She pulled a cup out for him and poured cocoa in, dropping a handful of marshmallows in and spooning some whipped cream on top.

"You remembered," he said softly.

"It's not perfect without both," she agreed, and they fell into silence, staring at the faces.

"You tried to steal the sword for me," he said, and she nodded, still not trusting herself to look at him. Harry didn't seem to mind. He was turning the pages, sipping the hot chocolate and reading the names of students below. His eyes spoke of recognition for some, and he leaned in to see other pictures, where younger students he wouldn't have known practiced spells or listened to Neville or herself lecturing.

"I got this for my trouble. It was stupid, poorly planned- we only had three people to get in, we were banking on Snape getting caught up in the decoy below," she argued, and Harry took her open palm with worried eyes and traced over the faint line that stretched across it.

"This was deep," he said, nervously eying her, and she shrugged. "It did hurt. I broke the case with a piece of glass when spells wouldn't work, but then Snape came up and Luna and I were caught.

"I thought Neville was there in the forest with you?" he asked, and she nodded her head before cocking it to look at him for the first time.

"Yes, but how did you know?"

"We stumbled into Dean, a bunch of goblins, and Ted Tonks and Dirk Cresswell while we were camping. They were talking about it," he admitted, and Ginny dropped her eyes from his face. "I was terrified you'd be tortured for it, but then Dean asked if you were ok and they said you'd been sent into the forest," Harry admitted, and Ginny wanted to laugh.

"We had to collect acromantula hairs on a full moon, with a werewolf pack howling around us, and no wands," she said, and Harry was sitting straight in his chair, looking at her with a horrified expression growing across his face. "Neville and I built a shelter of sorts because we didn't want the Carrows to find us- they taught at the school this year, Harry- and then I sent a Patronus to Fleur and she came through to get to us. I don't remember her though, I had passed out," she admitted, watching his face grow more concerned.

"Snape shouldn't have risked your life like that," he growled, but Ginny shook her head.

"He sent Fleur to us as well- she got a second patronus," she explained, and confusion crossed his face.

"Two patroni? How'd you send yours?"

"Wandless."

"Wandless? Really?"

"Really," she said, a smile starting to form, and Harry gestured to the room at large for her to show him. Ginny closed her eyes, thinking of the moment she'd seen him alive, standing in the Great Hall, shielding her mother from certain death.

"Expecto Patronum!" she called, her wand arm outstretched, and a silver blur materialized and solidified, and her faithful doe was nuzzling her hand.

"Ginny . . ." he began, and she ducked her head, realizing what he was going to ask.

"I don't know when it changed, it just did," she said, and Harry bit his lip. An awkward silence fell and the doe faded, the air shining silver as the mist dispersed.

It was quiet, and she sipped more hot chocolate, reveling in the rich flavor and the comforting weigh in her belly. Her hair felt cool, still damp from her second shower this morning, and the heat of the drink felt good in her stomach.

"Wait, have I only been asleep four hours?" Harry asked, eying the clock by the table and scratching his head.

"Wait . . . no way . . . it can't be," he said, looking at her slow smile.

"Really?" he asked.

"Really," she responded, and Harry fell back against the chair, taking a swig of his hot chocolate and breaking off a bit of pastry.

"No wonder I'm hungry, I've slept twenty eight hours!"

Ginny chuckled and started on her own breakfast. Piling a plate with fruit and some cereal, she picked up her spoon and dug in with relish.

"I want to tell you what happened," Harry said slowly, pausing to meet her eyes, "but not all at once, it would take forever. I need to do something first, too," he admitted, and Ginny eyed the wand that was sitting on his bedside table.

"You're going to return it to Dumbledore?" she asked, and he nodded, looking over at his own wand where it lay on the bed.

"It's strange to have it so far away- this whole year, I've kept my wand on me when I showered," he chuckled, and Ginny's stomach flip-flopped when he ran his hand through his long hair.

"We'll get used to it, Harry, though I suspect you and I might always have trouble following us," she offered, and Harry nodded, chuckling again. He had such a deep, wonderful laugh.

"Why is trouble following you?" he inquired, watching her face as he buttered a roll and shoved it in his mouth. She rolled her eyes and looked away.

"I did a lot of things with the DA that they weren't too pleased about," she explained. "Hogwarts wasn't the same, Harry- I did what you would have done. We reformed the DA with Neville as leader the second week of classes, and we ran training for battles, spied on the Carrows, monitored Snape, broke into his potions stores-" here Harry interrupted with a gasp and his eyes tripled in size, and she paused, letting the enormity of the situation sink in. "Breaking in to the Headmaster's was just the riskiest. They whipped students, Harry- first years- they tortured kids to get their parents to cave down in the dungeons, and Pansy and her pack were bullying everyone, and we started running jailbreaks to get the younger students out of the dungeons and healed. Some of it was fun, though- Halloween we set off a bunch of jack-o' lanterns and confetti and streamers, and we had a sign too- something about your anniversary of defeating Moldy Shorts," she continued, and Harry let out a bark of laughter here that reminded her strongly of Sirius- "but I wasn't there to see that night, I was tied up," she finished, and Harry looked at her, mirth in his eyes.

"Tied up? Too busy to see your handiwork in action?" he teased, and Ginny went red.

"No, I was in the dungeons- I got between Alecto and her favorite prey- a first year," she whispered, and Harry's face fell. The quiet was awkward, and she couldn't even sip her drink, he was staring at her so intensely.

"Gin, what happened to you this year?" he asked softly a minute later, and she felt the tears spill over. Within seconds Harry had pulled her to him, his arms wrapping around her, and it was like a dam had broken inside; all the worries she'd had, all the fears she'd kept locked inside, every single nightmare she'd pushed to her subconscious was unraveling, bursting out the ruptured floodgates and she cried, her tears drenching his shirt as he rocked her. She told him about Amycus attacking her, and he cried with her; she told him of wanting to rip Alecto to pieces for what she said about Muggleborns, hanging in the dungeons for three days and passing out, being whipped and crucio'ed and fighting to secure the castle in February, Snape stealing her socks- and it was a mark of their bond that Harry did not laugh at this, but continued to rock her, kissing her forehead and smoothing back her hair- and then, she plunged over the final impasse, blubbering out between sobs the story of her capture. Harry's arms went stiff as she told of fighting Bellatrix, of trying to wound but not kill, of her beating from Fenrir and her fight to keep her dignity, of passing out and waking up alone in the tiny, maddening cell, of fighting Tom's men; the guilt washed over her, remembering the fiendfyre that had swallowed up Marcus Flint and the sectumsempra she'd used to cut off her assailant before Tom killed him, and her escape from her prison, half dead, after being cursed. Here Harry cried out and grabbed her arm, pulling up her sleeve to stare, horrified, at the black rose and vine curling up her arm and the snake that lowered it's fangs towards her elbow.

"I know it's not pretty, I hate it, but I can't get rid of it!" she sobbed, and Harry shushed her and kissed her cheek again.

"Stop it, you're beautiful, Gin, I'm just so sorry I wasn't there to protect you," he whispered frantically, and she pulled back to look him in the eye.

"You leaving me didn't protect me, Harry. I might have been safer in the castle for awhile, but Tom didn't care if you'd broken things off or not; I was in for it the minute I stepped into the castle because I was a Weasley, even without being your ex-girlfriend," she stared pointedly, putting her finger against his chest. Harry shrunk back, looking guilty.

"You're not leaving me to protect me again, Harry, and that's final," she swore, and Harry wrapped his arms around her again and snuggled her into his chest.

"Promise," he said, and she relaxed against him. "Just tell me one thing," he asked, and Ginny nodded against him.

"Does this mean you take me back?" came his hopeful voice, and she felt laughter, light and free, rip from her mouth.

"I guess you'd have to ask me, Harry," she chortled, trying to stop shaking as he was beginning to as well from the laughter that was leaving him.

"Ok, well, Ginevra Molly Weasley, will you do me the honor of forgiving me my hideous, despicable, chauvinistic-"

"Don't forget prat-like," Ginny added, "and DON'T call me Ginevra!"

"-prat-like, wait, is that even a word?"

Ginny stared back at him.

"Ok, ok, just wanted to make sure I'm doing this right! Prat-like, self-centered, insensitive desire to protect you and be my girlfriend again?" Harry's eyes were sparkling, his hands rubbing her back in slow, lazy circles that reminded her of all the other things they could do once she was his girlfriend again.

"Hmm, I'll have to think about it," she teased, and Harry's eyes darkened just barely, heat shooting from them.

"I think I can persuade you," he growled, and his face lowered, his lips sweeping over hers in soft, sweet perfection. Ginny felt his arms tighten around her until she was pulled flush against him, her blood racing as his tongue caressed her lips and she moaned into the kiss, feeling a sudden pull towards the floor overtake her. Harry broke off the kiss, breathing heavily, and pulled back. Ginny opened her eyes with frustration. He was looking at her like she was a cup of hot chocolate to be sipped, and she felt her entire body flush as she met his eyes, feeling him taking her in. Harry didn't seem to mind that she was terribly thin, or that her skin was sickly and pale. She blushed and he chuckled, kissing her palm, and then stopped, looking at the scar.

"Are there others?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, and she nodded painfully, tugging down her shirt sleeve to cover the rose.

"I have a concealment charm Fleur taught me, but I don't use it for all of them," she said, and Harry looked at her with so much love in his eyes it made her suck in her breath.

"Can I see them?"

Four simple words, and she had no idea how to respond. She sat back, her legs pulled up to her chest, and eyed him.

"Please, Ginny. I'll show you all my new ones," he offered, a slight smile on his face, trying to joke, and she rolled her eyes.

"Trust me, it'll help me tell all the stories- and I've been told from Hermione that birds dig scars, right?" Ginny laughed and slapped his arm. He was indulging in one of their favorite inside jokes. Hermione had been sitting next to Ron in the library in sixth year and Ginny and Harry, newly a couple, had witnessed her tell a somewhat distracted Ron, who had been eying his own scars on his arms all day, that some witches found "battle wounds" attractive. Ron had perked up and stupidly asked her if she did, and Hermione had spluttered, effectively ending the entire opportunity. Harry and Ginny had engaged in one of their more heated snogging sessions later on that day, frequenting one of Harry's favorite spots- the same alcove where he'd caught her snogging Dean earlier that year, because, as she teased him often, it had made him realize what a catch she was. Ginny had ruined their heated moment mid-snog, just as Harry had been pulling up her shirt to kiss her belly, when she'd caught sight of his scar and burst into loud, snorting laughter. They hadn't been able to recover for twenty minutes once he'd realized why she was laughing.

"I have one on my arm, see- this is from Nagini, at Christmas- we went to Bathilda Bagshot's house, looking to see if Dumbledore had any clues hidden there for us-"

"And to see if she'd remember anything about your parents," Ginny added knowingly, and he looked at her, smiling sadly, and nodded.

"Anyway, it was sick- Bathilda had been dead for months, and Nagini was inside her skin- she brought just me upstairs, and then she came out and attacked, and Hermione had to apparate us out fast before Tom could get there," he finished, and Ginny traced over the faint red lines with her fingers, looking up at his face as he shivered.

"It doesn't hurt, does it?" she asked worriedly, and then she smacked herself when he blushed faintly, shaking his head, and she realized that months of physical separation were affecting him as deeply as they were her.

Harry began to carefully explain the locket-shaped scar on his chest, but Ginny was three steps ahead of him. He was shocked to hear just how much she'd known, and when she explained how she'd searched the abandoned Riddle House and run into Nagini just a week ago, he grew angry and made her promise never to leave on such a foolhardy mission alone again.

"Harry, I know it was stupid," she said softly, " but it's not like I'm the only one who's run off on some crusade without giving thought to the consequences," she added, trying to remind him of their search for the Horcruxes and gasping painfully when he hung his head, clearly reminded of Sirius.

"That's not what I meant," she said gently, and he nodded.

"I know, Gin. It's ok."

A pause broke between them as each contemplated their thoughts.

"Show me yours?" he pleaded softly and Ginny grimaced, looking first at her hands. She pulled off her socks and rolled up her sweatpants, and Harry looked down with stony anger at the faint, barely visible marks from the shackles that had held her to the wall. Each wrist and ankle bore the silvery lines, and he turned her hand over and kissed each line, smiling when she giggled as he kissed her feet.

"Cutting hexes from Valentine's Day, we got attacked," she continued, showing the three lines that crossed her calves.

"Those aren't permanent, Gin," he assured her, running a finger over each one and kissing them.

"Next, we have more Halloween . . . Alecto whipped Neville, Luna and me," she said, and Harry let out a noise of angry disgust, then a gasp of quick breath as she turned around and pulled her jumper over her head. She heard him give off a strangled cry and tentative fingers reached out, tracing the silvery lines on her bare back. She felt the deepest one as he touched it, and he pulled his finger back when she flinched.

"They're a little sensitive," she admitted, and Harry kissed them, his lips bruising her mind as she tried to focus and hold her breathing steady.

"Any others?" he whispered, his hands still on her waist, and Ginny nodded.

"Can I see them?" he asked when she didn't move, and Ginny pulled her jumper back on and turned to face him.

"They're in sensitive spots," she whispered finally, and he looked down at the floor. The fruit and cereal lay untouched.

"I don't have to see them, Gin, but I will someday, and I'll kiss them then," he promised, and Ginny sighed and stood up, removing her jumper once more. Harry stopped breathing and she was tempted to laugh if it hadn't been such a serious topic.

"This," she said, pointing to the tiny mark visible between her bra-covered breasts and the other three on her lower belly, "is from Greyback," and Harry let out an angry growl, standing up and hugging her to him.

"I can't promise no one will hurt you again, Ginny, but I can promise I'll fight like hell to keep you safe," he said fiercely, and then his eyes fell to the bottom wound that was deepest on her belly.

"I know he was trying to . . . but will those be like Bill's?" he asked, and Ginny shook her head.

"This one opens on full moon sometimes," she admitted, and Harry sagged, aghast, "but it's been getting better and Madam Pomfrey and Hannah both assured me that other than my meat preferences and my sex drive, nothing else will change," she said matter-of-factly, and Harry looked uncomfortable for a moment before she smiled at him reassuringly.

"I just like my steaks rare and my time with you more medium well," she joked, and Harry laughed and pulled her onto his lap. Ginny's eyes drifted down, and he looked up at her, warming her everywhere, and his eyes flickered to the scars on her belly. Ginny sucked in a breath as his mouth pressed hot against her scars, one by one, and then she pulled her jumper back on, wishing she were less injured and more emotionally stable. Harry's eyes raked over her, dark and desiring, and she leaned in and indulged in a few heated kisses before pulling back when she began to feel out of control. Harry groaned when her tongue left his, his hands running over her thighs on his lap, and Ginny shivered, making him grit his teeth.

"Sorry, I forgot about that," she giggled, and Harry smacked his hand to his head, rolling his eyes.

"Well, seeing as how you don't have to deal with that," he chuckled, his face an impressive Weasley red, and Ginny snuggled against his chest and sighed.

"Any others?" he asked, worry dripping from his tone, and Ginny nodded against him.

"There are five more tiny claw marks on my thighs, inside on the left and right sides . . . he was trying to get my underwear off," she whispered, holding him closer, and Harry hugged her tight and kissed her forehead.

"You're safe," he whispered, and she smiled into the hug.

"So are you."