Disclaimer: Harry and Ginny belong to JK Rowling and those who make money from her talent (which sadly doesn't include me).

Summary: Harry finally breaks and emotions are high - can Ginny tell the real from the fake? Harry/Ginny. Rated PG-13.

The waiting ends.

Ginny waited.

She didn't need to move her eyes to know what was going on around her; Hermione was sat to her left, chewing her fingernails and pretending to read; Ron was pacing behind her; her mother was sat on the other side of the room continually smoothing non-existant creases in her robes, occasionally getting up to move something that was perfectly settled where it was.

She didn't need to look at them because this is what they always did, every time, without fail. Every time Harry was called to a suspected Death Eater attack the end of each of their wands would glow red and they would Apparate here, to the kitchen at Grimmauld Place to wait.

They didn't speak anymore. At first they'd voiced their concerns, repeated how they wished they could help him, wondered again whether Harry would change his mind and let them. They didn't speak anymore, though; they'd done this so many times in the eight months since Harry had finished school that there was nothing left to say.

She didn't take her eyes from the tip of her wand, glowing red in her hands. She waited for it to glow green, the sign that it was safe. She prayed that he would be okay. She prayed that this time would be the one; that He would turn up and Harry could finish what had to be done.

Green. Ginny only hesitated long enough to stand before Apparating. It was a village; a Muggle attack this time. Buildings were destroyed and bodies lay strewn in the street. Molly and Hermione immediately went to search for survivors whilst Ron went to help the Aurors who were dealing with the captured Death Eaters. Ginny's eyes scanned the horrific scene before her and settled on a man standing just outside the circle of wreckage. She went to him.

Although his eyes stared in front of him they were dull and unseeing. He stood perfectly - unnaturally - still. It scared her. She reached out a hand and touched his arm, trying to trigger a reaction but he continued to stare.
"Harry?" she asked quietly.
His eyes flickered and focused on hers briefly before he collapsed onto his knees in front of her. He buried his head in her stomach and wrapped his arms around her waist. Ginny cradled his head to her, stroking his hair.
"Harry?"
Her voice wavered. This wasn't Harry. Harry shrugged his shoulders and told her 'not this time'; Harry was strong, even when he admitted to her that he didn't feel it. Something was wrong - more wrong than usual - and it terrified her.

She dropped to her knees so their faces were level and looked into those green eyes again.
"Harry?" This time it was almost a whisper and Ginny heard the pleading in her own voice.
He shook his head.
"It's too much," he said quietly, his eyes flitting from one spot to another, "I can't do it anymore. It's just- too much."
He broke down and Ginny almost choked on the emotions that rose inside her. She reached out to pull him into a hug as a strangled sob escaped his lips.

Harry clung onto her as if he'd never experienced the touch of another human before and Ginny felt her tears mingle with his where their cheeks brushed. He wept - truly wept - as tears that hadn't been allowed to fall were finally released and emotions were set free. Ginny could feel him clutching tightly to the fabric at the back of her robes and knew that this had been a long time coming. She stroked his hair and cried with him - for him - she wasn't sure which.

Then the tears subsided a little. He leaned back and their eyes met. Before Ginny knew what was happening Harry brought his lips to hers in a desperate, messy kiss. Their teeth crashed and Ginny tasted tears. It was overwhelming. She began to feel dizzy but kissed back, years of longing finally being satisfied all at once, all the gaps inside her gradually being filled. His lips pressed urgently against hers and Ginny's blood rushed through her veins. This is what she'd been dreaming of, only more so. It was passionate; it was raw; it was... not what Harry really wanted.

Slowly the guilt crept in. She was taking advantage, it told her. Yes, he tasted good and, yes, it felt right, but Ginny knew deep down that he'd regret it later; yet another thing for him to feel bad about. She couldn't do that to him, no matter how much she wanted this. She pulled back, breaking their connection and her own heart in the process.

Harry was breathing heavily and had a slightly wild look about him.
"I need you," he told her, staring deeply into her eyes and leaning forward to kiss her again.
Ginny felt like she was being torn apart. Using all the willpower she could muster, she moved back, tears streaming down her face.
"No," she whispered.
Harry looked at her as if his last hope had just been dashed then buried his face in her neck and let the tears fall, his whole body shaking.

It was unbearable. Ginny's lips were still tingling from his touch and so many emotions swirled around in her head that it was impossible to distinguish between them. All she knew was that she had to hold this man as close to her as she could and not let go.

* * *

Harry didn't come down to dinner that evening and Ginny couldn't eat. She excused herself then climbed the stairs to Harry's room and knocked on the door. There was no answer.
"It's Ginny."
She heard the swish that indicated he'd unlocked his door. Ginny took a deep breath and steeled herself against what she was about to do before turning the handle.

Harry was sat on his bed and staring at the floor. She closed the door behind her and silently went to sit next to him.
"I'm sorry," he said, not looking up.
Ginny rested a hand on top of his.
"It's okay."
Harry shook his head.
"No," he said blankly. "It's not."
Ginny wasn't sure if he meant what had happened between them that afternoon or his situation in general.
"Harry?"
She wanted him to look up. She needed to see his eyes to be able to read him.
"I'm so sorry, Gin. I shouldn't have..." His voice was small and he took a shaky breath. "I took advantage of the situation and I'm sorry. I hope - I hope you can forgive me."

Ginny squeezed the hand under hers.
"There's nothing to forgive."
Her heart contracted painfully. At least she'd stopped it; at least she'd lessened his guilt a little. As for her own pain - she'd have to deal with that later.
"But there is."
Ginny stroked her thumb over the back of his hand soothingly.
"Harry, you needed this afternoon. You've been bottling all this up for too long. If I managed to help at all then I'm glad."

Harry finally looked up at her.
"I was so selfish."
Ginny smiled.
"You're just about the most unselfish person I know."
"No. I could have told you how I felt ages ago but I didn't; I needed to cling onto some hope, even though I knew there was none. And then today..." He bowed his head again. "I just took what I wanted. I don't know how you can even stand to be in the same room as me."

Ginny's heart started to pound against her chest. She tried to stay calm, telling herself that she'd misunderstood. Her mouth was dry.
"What do you mean 'how I felt'?"
He turned to meet her gaze, smiling, but she saw the single tear that escaped his already bloodshot eyes.
"I mean that I love you."

He said it simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Ginny considered the posibility that she was dreaming but, no; he was watching her with an intensity in his eyes that she'd never seen before and the tear had slowly started to roll down his cheek.

She leaned towards him and tenderly kissed it away, bringing her hand up to his other cheek, then she sat back and looked at him. His eyes were wide with surprise and Ginny thought he'd never looked so handsome.

"Gin, you don't - "
"Shh..."
She ran her fingers lightly down his face and along his jaw until her thumb rested gently on his lips.

She moved closer until her lips were next to his ear and she could feel his warm breath against her neck. She closed her eyes and breathed in, inhaling the scent of his hair, then, finally, she whispered the words she'd waited years to speak.

The End.

A/N: Well, I'm kinda holding my breath now - I'm genuinely not sure about this. When I was imagining this fic it felt very emotional (I admit I almost cried on the bus), but I'm not sure I've managed to convey that very well. Any feedback (positive or negative!!) would be very helpful.
Thanks,
myrtilleEtMure.
xxx