Disclaimer: The only stuff I own is that which you do not recognize. Alas.

Chapter One: Harry's Headache

"What are you looking at?" a petite red head, clad in an oversized Seeker's uniform shirt with Potter emblazoned in orange on the back asked.

"Hmmm?" responded the young man to whom said shirt belonged. He had not yet processed that his wife was speaking to him.

"Harry, what are you looking at?" she asked again as she sat down next to him on the rug in front of the hearth in their home.

"Oh, I'm sorry Gin. I hope I didn't wake you up." Harry finally came out of his reverie with a sheepish look about his face and set the book to the side. He glanced at his wife as she settled on the couch. It may not be the most attractive of night gowns, but he loved when she wore his old uniform shirts. For some reason she never wore hers around the house. Some time he needs to remember to ask her why.

"Well, I've found that it gets a bit chilly and uncomfortable when my personal space heater and favorite pillow is missing from bed."

"Gee, thanks," he said as he gathered her up into his lap.

"No problem," Ginny replied as she nestled her head into her husband's shoulder and relaxed into his arms. "So what is that you are so were so intently looking at?" Third time is the charm she thought.

"Back in first year Hagrid gave me this. Must say it was better than that birthday cake he made," Harry managed a bit of a grimace at the memory of that particular less than delectable piece of bakery. "He had gotten photos of my parents from their friends and put them into this album. I woke up a while ago, had a touch of a headache. I came down here to get a potion for it and decided to relax here until it took effect. I pulled this out for some reason."

Ginny tightened her hold on Harry's arms which were wrapped around her. She knew that no matter how old he got or how much he talked about them, each time his parents were mentioned Harry felt a little bit of loss. She knew what this loss felt like; after all, in the final defeat of Voldemort a few years ago, she lost dear friends and even some family. At least she had her parents and grew up with their love. As she was thinking this, the couple adjusted themselves a bit more on the couch.

In silence they watched the flames for a few minutes. "What are you thinking about, Harry?" Ginny asked.

"Well, besides being thankful for effective headache cures, I was just missing my parents a bit. Every so often I feel like they are watching me. You know, like if I just looked up quickly enough I would see them or if I listened hard enough I could hear them." Ginny reached up to Harry's face and stroked his cheek. She placed a light kiss on his lips.

"Do you realize that we have spent more time living in this house then they ever were able to?" Harry and Ginny had rebuilt Godric's Hollow and moved in a few months after they were married. Three years later they were happy and cozy in their home, hidden from the public eye that chased the two of them to this day. One of the trials that befell teammates on last year's Quidditch World Cup champions and then there was that whole Boy Who Lived thing.

"I wonder if they sat here like us. I wonder so many things…" his voice faded out again.

"I know one thing though, Harry, they would be proud of you, they are proud of you. And wherever exactly it is that they are, they love you very much." Now it was Harry's turn to hug Ginny a bit tighter.

"I know they would have loved you," Harry returned. "And from what Sirius had said of my mom's temper, she would have gotten along well with you. I'm sure the two of you would have compared notes on how to keep us troublemaking Potter men in line."

Ginny cocked an eye brow at Harry's self-satisfied, impish grin. "That is a difficult task, but then you do have to face the constant threat of my Bat Bogey Hex."

Silence enveloped them again as they enjoyed the simple comfort and familiarity.

"You know Ginny, just five years ago, I never would have thought this moment would ever happen." Harry paused, but Ginny knew he wasn't done yet. "I mean, Voldemort was running amok and I honestly didn't know if I would make it past the Final Battle. Hermione had said you had given up on me just as I was finally realizing what a prat I was for not noticing how fantastic you were. Oww!" Harry exclaimed as a sharp pinch was administered. "Not that you aren't fantastic now of course," he amended.

"That's better."

"But there was so much uncertainty and Ron's thickness apparently had rubbed off on me. Plus my cluelessness when it came to relationships. The Durselys were not exactly shining examples of family life and all that rot." Harry paused again.

"Gin, you changed all that. You showed me not only that you still cared for me, but helped to teach me how to love. Ron and Hermione's relationship was not exactly a useful case study. Still isn't, they seem to use fighting as the most natural way to express affection. Your presence, friendship, and love were what kept me sane, even before I realized the whole love aspect. And once I did, that became my reason for living, for fighting. Even though I didn't tell you until after the fact, you were what won the war."

Ginny pulled Harry's arms closer around her as she blushed. While this was somewhat of a familiar story to her, she still was awed by how much this man loved her.

"You patience, temper, love, just you Gin, are all I need and all I ever want from this world. You are my home."

That got quite the kiss from Ginny. For a man whose boyhood was characterized by excessive bumbling around girls, he definitely grew out of that phase, at least where his wife was concerned.

The two pulled themselves tighter to each other and sat for a bit. Ginny then reached over and opened up the photo album. She paged through it as Harry played with her hair.

A bit later, "Remember that night at the Burrow when you had a headache, Gin?"

"Harry, how could I forget? I couldn't decide whether I wanted to kill you or snog you."

"Glad the latter won out."