1A/N – Ginny's POV, we're aftermath-ing now. Are you ready?

(( I have to speculate that God himself did make us into corresponding shapes like puzzle pieces from the clay. ))

It was a normal day when my doorbell rang and it struck me as funny; I wasn't expecting any guests on that particular day. I opened the door to see Harry, leaning against the door . We were waiting for him to come home as reports of him defeating Voldemort had been circulating but we'd expected him to Apparate days before. We thought the worst: Maybe he had died, too? But here he was, looking as if he had just come from a winning Quidditch game. I shrieked with glee and threw my arms around his neck, lifting my legs up as he embraced me in a hug. I was smiling like hell by then.

"So you did it?" I asked, still holding on to him.

"Yeah." He said proudly, "I did it." I let go of his neck and stepped back. I caressed his face for a few moments with a small smile on my face. I stopped smiling, still rubbing his face, and looked into his eyes. And then, I kissed him. This kiss felt right; Not like the other ones where there was a sense of prohibition, but like when we first kissed each other in my fifth year. I let go.

"We thought you were dead!"

"I'm obviously not."

"Where–?"

"St. Mungo's."

"Why didn't–?"

"Confidentiality clause."

"But you didn't–!"

"I could barely move, let alone tell you."

"How do you–?"

"I'm magic."

We both started laughing and I kissed him again. He was so beautiful, so brave, so...dishonest. Had I forgiven him for what he'd done? After all, he was the reason why I had been cursed, why I had been in so much pain for all those years in school and home, the reason why I couldn't find a boyfriend, because I was thinking of him. But the thing was, the reason why I was in pain was because I was in love with him, so in love with him that I was in pain when he broke up with me over Voldemort, when he gave me the kiss then rejected mine. He was the love of my life, and that's why I could forgive him.

We sat down for tea and discussed how he had defeated Voldemort, how he had gone to St. Mungo's and got cured, but made them sign a contract that said they'd tell no one he had ever been there, especially not the Daily Prophet. He told me of his thoughts about me when he had a notion that there was no hope, when Voldemort was actually winning. I started crying and he started comforting me, telling me he loved me, and that he never wanted to stop holding me. I cried even harder knowing this.

I was going to be okay. Harry was going to be okay. Everything was going to be...okay.

We spent the whole night like that, sitting on my couch, Harry holding me, never wanting to let go. It was wonderful. It was magical. It was heaven.

I woke up the next morning to find that my heaven had gone, and so had my Harry.