Chapter 4

Harry ran downstairs "Since when?" His towel, forgotten in his shock, was hanging precariously low on his hips.

Ginny turned away from the teakettle. As her gaze landed on the scantily clad man, the blush that made her family famous crept into her cheeks. Thankfully Ginny was able to keep her stare steady. "Go put some pants on, then ask me!" The sensible part of her mind won the argument and wouldn't let her jump him.

Blushing from head to toe (most of which was showing). Harry trudged back up stairs to clothe himself. Ginny followed soon after to her room. For some reason she was feeling a bit warm.

Clad in jeans and a fitted green t-shirt, Harry went back down to the kitchen. Ginny had apparently disappeared somewhere. Harry took a seat at the kitchen table. He was dying for an explanation. Obviously, Ron had a girl in the room. A promiscuous girl at that from the style of the bra. The question was who? Who, could put up with Ron long enough to be in a relationship with him? Harry jiggled his foot impatiently while he pondered. After, what seemed like an eternity, (but was actually three minutes) he got up to get himself some tea.

Just as he started to pour himself a cup when he heard Ginny pull a chair out and sit down. Harry glanced over his shoulder to acknowledge her presence. His glance stopped being a glance and became a gaze and then a gawk. There was Ginny, just sitting there smiling. She had changed into a simple blue tank top and jeans. There was nothing different about her, yet at the same time, there was.

After 5th year and the fiasco at the Ministry, Ginny had joined the Trio. She was as close to Harry as Ron or Hermione, but neither Ron nor Hermione had ever made or would ever make him feel like this, even if they sat in a chair wearing a tank top and jeans.

"Harry?" He was brought back to reality by the pain of scalding tea.

"Oy!" He dropped the kettle and jerked his hand away from his overflowing cup. He brought his singed thumb to his mouth.

"Oh sweetie!" Ginny said with a pitying giggle. "Let me get you some ice."

She got some ice out of the fridge, put it in a cloth and took it to Harry. "Let me see," she said, matronly.

Reluctantly, Harry took his thumb out of his mouth and showed it to Ginny. It actually didn't hurt all that much, but he enjoyed Ginny doting on him.

"There you go!" She fixed the ice so it would stay on his thumb. She was beginning to sound more like the regular Ginny and less like 'I'm-going-to-slap-some-sense-into-you' Ginny. Harry sat in his chair at the table. "So, what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?"

A blank stare crossed Harry's face.

"Oh yes! The offending article of lingerie."

The events of the day quickly flashed through his mind, refreshing Harry's memory. "Yeah! Who's Ron's girl?" He demanded.

Ginny's jaw dropped "You don't know?" Harry shook his head. "Wow." She murmured.

"Well, go on then! Tell me!"

Ginny thought for a second then said "No." Harry was confused. "I think we should discuss something else first."

"Oh. That." His mood sank a substantial amount. He didn't want to talk about 'That.' 'That' brought up emotions Harry didn't like emoting.

Ginny watched as Harry began to withdraw into himself again. "I'm just going to sit here and wait for you to start." As much as Ginny wanted to hold him and tell him everything was ok, she knew that that could come later. Right now, she had to stay stern. It was the only way to make him talk. So, she sat.

Harry was torn. He was desperately trying to keep these memories locked inside, yet they were tearing him up.

Harry sighed resignedly, "I don't know where to start."

"Just talk."

Harry stared at his hands. Then, suddenly, looked up into Ginny's kind brown eyes. "Why me?" The amount of pain in his voice was almost overwhelming. "Under all my thoughts lie those two words." He pounded the table. "I'm a murderer! People died because they were associated with me!" Tears of sadness and anger rolled down his cheeks. "Cedric died, Hagrid died, Neville died, Sirius died, Bill died, Molly died," a sob racked his form, "Dumbledore died," He was choking on his words. "My parents would be here. How can anyone say that I'm good? How can people still care about me? I don't deserve to have anyone care about me!" Harry couldn't say anything else; his sorrow had robbed him of his words.

Ginny got up and went to Harry. Gently she helped him stand and walk to the living room. He clung to her, as though afraid she would disappear. She guided him to the sofa and sat down next to him, holding him and murmuring small comforts. They sat for a long time, clutching each other. Ginny waited for Harry's sobs to die down, to respond to him.

"I care about you."

"Why?" His eyes looked like those of a traumatized 5-year old.

"Because you care." She sighed, "People would have died anyway. It was a war! We all fought in it and we all would have fought even if you weren't here. The only person responsible for anyone dying is Voldemort. No one blames you for anything. No one except you."

"Really?" A hint of hope edged into his voice.

"Really." It never ceased to amaze Ginny. Harry lived so much of his life without love that the idea of anyone caring about him seemed ridiculous in his mind. She slowly stroked his hair. "We all love you, Harry. The memories won't go away, but you have to stop blaming yourself. Please!"

Harry looked up into Ginny's eyes. His stare was so intense; Ginny could almost feel his emotions. They were lost in each other's eyes; neither noticed their lips slowly moving. Then, they kissed. Unlike the gaze preceding it, the kiss was gentle and comforting. It exuded love.

Slowly they broke apart. Both participants quickly looked away and blushed. Acting as though nothing had happened, Harry and Ginny returned to their previous position. Harry's head rested softly on Ginny's shoulder, his arms hug her waist. Ginny held Harry, continuing to play with his messy black locks.

Gradually, Ginny felt Harry relax his breathing growing deeper. She glanced at his face and saw that he was sound asleep. Carefully, she loosened his grip around her waist. She got up, laid Harry down on the sofa and got a blanket to cover him up. Ginny got the book she had been reading before this entire hullabaloo started and sat down with Harry's head in her lap. His face looked so peaceful, something that rarely ever happened. She brushed his hair out of his eyes and surprised herself by just barely kissing his scar. Harry shifted and murmured something to himself. If only Ginny had listened closely, she would have heard, "I love you, Ginny Weasley."

A/N: Much better this time.

JerryGirl: Harry is very slappable so I wouldn't doubt that she did it on purpose. I love the shampoo too. I think we should come up with a new brand.

Rubber-duckiesofdoom: Thanks! I'm so glad that you find humor in this. I try to throw in little bits and pieces amidst the mass amounts of melodrama.

Miss Effie: I had so much fun with the shower part, after all I love boys sans shirts.