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His face exhibited ultimate bliss at the sight of the youngest Weasley. However, when he opened the door wider and caught the anxious expression of Harry Potter, Dean Thomas knew that everything stable in his life was about to collapse. It wasn't that he hated or even disliked Harry; Dean had known Harry throughout his adolescence and was on quite pleasant terms with him during the course of their Hogwarts careers.
However, the brewing romance between Harry and Ginny had been genuinely broadcasted around the school halls; a noticeable relationship that was usually tossed into the standard laundry of gossip. Dean had known that Ginny was hopelessly in love with Harry; he'd been quite relieved and surprised that she'd accepted his proposal.
He'd known that falling for Ginny was a big risk in itself; he was sure that a piece of Ginny would always belong to Harry. Now, as he silently ushered the pair deeper into his flat, he wondered if that part of Ginny was not in fact a piece, but her entire spirit and soul.
The trio wandered into the living room. Dean sat on the couch; Ginny erratically situated herself across from him, leaning on the edge of her chair. Harry stood off to the side, his eyes smoldering with determination, occasionally straying to off-handedly study his surroundings.
Dean started at the both of them, words and explanations forming and rising to the surface; composed of sentences and syllables that he dared not articulate. He knew what was about to happen and yet he prayed that his assumptions were irrational and totally false.
"Judging from the looks on your faces, this isn't just a random visit," he wryly observed.
Harry tossed out a lopsided smile, then immediately retracted the gesture, as though he had just laughed at a funeral. Ginny folded her hands in her lap and gazed at Dean with such resolute fortitude, that he knew the end had already begun.
"Look, I know the wedding is only a few days away, but if I don't come clean now, I would be lying to you. And that has never been and never will be my intentions."
Dean clamped down on his jaw, unable to move or speak. Entangled by his doubts and his cynical affirmations, he studied the way Harry was looking past him, rather than at him, and the way that Ginny couldn't stop fiddling with her fingers. Harry locked eyes with Ginny and with a small nod, she continued.
"This is so unfair to you, but this wasn't planned. Dean, as much as I care about you…I love Harry."
The air suddenly turned stale. Though he had been expecting the worst, Dean bounced on the balls of his toes, jumping up from his sitting position as though he'd been scalded with a hot iron. Ginny bit her lip and Harry took a step forward, unsure of what Dean would do.
He exclaimed his initial reaction, "What?"
Harry intervened before Ginny could elaborate; his body perpendicular and at alert, though his tone was slightly weary, as though he had rehearsed and recited his response many times in the past. It was not the mark of a man seeking revenge or soaking in the fruits of his well-formed betrayal. It was so painfully obvious; obvious that Harry Potter would always be in love with Ginny Weasley.
"She thought I had died, Dean. But I survived and I'm all right now; I've come back to her, just like I always said I would. If there's one thing I've learned from war and death, is that no one is safe from it. I'm in love with her. I wanted her to be happy, even if that meant marrying you. But I lost her once…and I just can't lose her again."
Dean blinked, trying to control all the emotions that had been blended together by his shock. The speech was so different from the Harry Potter that he had remembered at Hogwarts, yet at the same time, right on target.
It was well-known that Harry was extremely loyal to his friends and cherished them like kin. It made perfect sense that despite his collected manner, he was fiercely justifying his attachment towards Ginny.
"But…you hadn't been heard from in two years. Everyone thought that you had died!" he exclaimed.
Ginny nodded, standing beside Harry. Harry gazed down at her, examining the flaming head of red hair; a color that suddenly reminded him of Lily, his mother. He'd only seen her picture in a few odd photographs or so and had only imagined her features from countless stories from Remus and Sirius.
They both had said that his mother had initially hated his father on first sight. However, during seventh year, something happened and the sparks that had once erupted from hostility and malevolence, began to pull them closer. And Harry reflected that he must have known what his father had felt; loving someone so deeply and desperately that you could never let them go.
It was such a simple action, yet richly intertwined with symbolism. He knew that they were in this together; a comforting piece of evidence that quelled his stirring nerves.
"I thought I was dead, myself. I was in France for awhile, until I managed to find a way home. And in all the time I was away, Ginny was the thing that kept me going. I just had to see her again, to know that she was all right," Harry explained.
Dean's eyes flashed to Ginny, who stood her ground. Controlling his anger, his voice decreased to a dull and strained roar.
"Gin…you told me you loved me. I didn't want to rush into anything, but I been so sure that you had moved on. It's two days before the wedding…everything's been finalized and now you want to call it off?"
Ginny nodded.
"It all boils down to love, doesn't it? You wanted to marry me because you were in love with me. But I can't let you marry me, Dean; not when the vows would be a lie."
Dean allowed melancholy to emerge. This entire time….she had been in love with Harry. Every kiss, every whispered reassurance; it had all been a big, fat lie. He wanted to hate her with every fiber of his being. His love had been a weakness, an exposé of his appalling vulnerability, allowing treachery to breed right under his nose.
He felt humiliated and ashamed and bitter. Fairy tales deemed to be true; once again, the Hero got the girl. His gaze passed between the couple, feeling oddly out of place and alienated in his own home.
And so, he did the only thing he could do.
The countryside radiated beauty in all its unspoiled innocence and glory. As the sun lazily descended, Ginny stared out the window, admiring the view before it would be blanketed by absolute darkness. Everything had happened so fast, that she was still recalling the events in her head.
She could hear the sound of her family's cheers, the almost pleasant look on Dean's face when the wizard minister had confirmed their vows, the way he had whispered her name before he covered her mouth with a kiss. It had been a lovely ceremony with all the right people. She could not have asked for anything more.
She was tremendously grateful that the honeymoon was in the English countryside; they would be able to take some needed time off from the outside world. With a content sigh, Ginny realized that she was enjoying a great serenity that had been lost during the hustle of the previous weeks.
The fading light cast gorgeous shadows along the skyline and the landscape, the bleak shapes clashing and warring with the violent display of vivid flowers and floral arrangements. Considering all the conquered obstacles, it could be possible that she was still dreaming.
Suddenly, a strong yet familiar pair of arms wrapped around her waist. She shivered, her head exploding with sparks at the mere deed of his touch. Ginny leaned into his embrace, laying her hand on top of his curled fingers.
She pressed her cheek into his neck, inhaling and exhaling, shutting her eyes, feeling sixteen again. The world was pounding in her ears, rushing by and speeding like a comet about to smash into the flawless canvas of Earth.
His mouth parted and he whispered, "And how are you this evening, Mrs. Potter?"
Ginny laughed, her right hand reaching for his neck, running a smooth course along his cheek and the bones underneath his chin. All she felt was love and euphoria; she never wanted to leave.
"Home, Mr. Potter. I feel at home."
He smiled and conquered her mouth once again, her smaller frame swallowed by his sprawling height.
It was true that they had endured the harsh and sneering cruelty of winter. But winter had passed and abdicated its stolen throne, only to give full reign to an unbreakable and invincible summer.
Her head swimming with the past, present and unforeseen future, Ginny was sixteen again, soaring through the chilly night, the wind caressing her freckled face, holding onto the waist of Harry Potter, wishing that she would never have to let go.
A/N: Awww, so it's over! Sorry that came without warning, but I realized that I didn't want to drag the story out with a plot that was already coming to a close. I want to thank all of you for reading and reviewing this story! I hope you liked it!