She hasn't moved in a week. But that's okay, his eyes shine enough for both of them. Heartbreak is something he knows far too well. And when she quietly cries, deep in the night, he tells himself it is due to the rumbles that echo through the darkness. He knows he is wrong, but that's okay. He needs this.

He remembers how it used to be, before things got complicated. Before bushy hair & green eyes entered the picture. Back then, she still smiled. One week ago, seven days, a flash of green light had taken both distractions away, And she doesn't smile anymore.

He is exploring her body with his lips when he feels something snap, like a cord that has been pulled too tight. He knows that she is looking up now, her eyes dragged from their set spot on the window. His heart skips inside his chest. Surely she knows him now. Sees him now. Feels him now. He smiles shakily against her concave stomach, pushing himself up until they are face to face, aligned down to the last freckle.

"Ginny," he whispers, her name a sigh of relief. His stomach twists as the corners of her mouth twitch upward in the ghost of a smile.

"I love you--" she says softly, voice weak from lack of use & chapped lips cracking, and tears of hope springs to her eyes.

"--Harry."

His heart shatters with the sound of broken glass. He swallows tears, swallows that burst of damned hope that had bubbled within his chest, and crashes his mouth angrily against hers. Her lips move weakly beneath his. She doesn't know who he is. She is seeing green eyes and messy black hair. But it's okay.

He needs this.