A/N: I've had this story in my head for a while now. It's short and sweet, I think. I wouldn't consider anything in here a spoiler for HBP, but that might just be me. If you haven't read the book, you might not want to read this story. Thanks!

Freedom

The air smelled of smoke. Thick and heavy to the point no one could breathe. He could almost taste the soot on his tongue. For a moment, he'd forgotten what had happened here, but a jolt of pain in his wand arm reminded him promptly.

Voldemort. The final battle. Magic dancing, swirling, crashing, biting. He remembered the green light. He remembered the shield of light, energy from those who loved him, blocking the Killing Curse. He remembered the anger swelling in him, giving him the power to do what couldn't be done by anyone else's hands.

Before he allowed to think, he'd performed the final curse. Both Harry and Voldemort were caught in the wave of raw power behind the spell. Harry, still under the protection of the others, was spared, but weakened. The last thing he saw before falling to darkness was the very mortal Voldemort burning and screaming and cursing his name.

Slowly coming to, Harry heard voices in the distance. For one worried moment, he thought it might be the remaining Death Eaters. Then he recognized one. A beautiful, gentle sound that was filled with excitement and fear. A small smile tugged on Harry's lips, though he barely had the energy for that.

A flowery scent broke through the burning smell as Ginny knelt beside him. He wondered how she found him. Harry went alone without word of where, just to keep them all safe. At the same time, he wasn't surprised that Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the others found him. That made his heart swell.

"Harry. . ." she said quietly, "Harry, are you still with us?"

His eyes fluttered open. Ginny moved his head into her lap with a relieved smile. Harry looked passed her for a moment, watching the others standing there anxiously.

It took everything he had in him to speak, "He's dead. I killed him." He strangled out.

He watched as Ginny's eyes became slightly glossy, shining in the moonlight. There was that hard look in them that he'd seen so many times.

"Good." She said, sounding proud.

Others apparently heard him as a might whoop went through the crowd of bruised and bloody peers. Fred and George danced to a song in their heads. Arthur Weasley held his wife as she sobbed happily. Lupin and Bill seemed to be howling while Tonks and Fleur jumped up and down excitedly. And Ron passionately kissed Hermione as she cried. Harry watched them all for a moment then focused on the girl above him as a tremor moved through him.

"Ginny," he whispered quietly enough for just her to hear, "I was wondering . . . if maybe you'd take me back."

She watched him for a long moment. Her eyes lit up with happiness and acceptance. The rest of her face looked almost whimsical or haughty, full of sarcasm.
"I'm not sure, Harry. I saw Neville fighting off the Death Eaters when they attacked the Burrow. I thought he looked rather dashing."

His eyes narrowed, but then he smiled. She grinned down to him, pulling her into him more. Both began to laugh. Quickly, Harry's laughter turned into shaking sobs of relief. Ginny held him tightly and comfortingly. She didn't speak as he drowned himself in the feel of her, just allowed him to cry. She understood every tear–for the first time, Harry Potter, Boy-who-Lived, was free.