will you stay

Ginny leaned against her bedroom wall, staring over by the window. Moonlight filtered in, casting her in whites and blues. Harry silently sat beside her on the bed. As he waited, he drank in the sight of her, that ever-present gnawing need stirring in him.

They hadn't spoken yet, despite the knowledge that they now had time, endless opportunities, the possibility of a future. In the chaos of returning from Hogwarts to the Burrow with all the Weasleys (almost all the Weasleys, Harry corrected with a pang) and Hermione, there never seemed to be a right moment.

Not that it seemed to matter. Every time he was near her, his mind would begin to buzz, what words to say clamoring against memories of his walking past her on the way to the forest, of her screaming his name.

Then tonight, Hermione had sought Ron after a nightmare. Harry had left to give them privacy, and on the way down the stairs, his heart had nearly stopped when he had seen Ginny standing by her door. Without a word, she had beckoned him in and he had followed her.

A strange comfort settled over him despite the tension coiled in his stomach as he waited.

"There."

Harry nearly jolted at her voice. Her lips curved up wistfully, though still she didn't look at him.

"It's almost been a year. It'll be your birthday soon."

Oh.

He tore his gaze from her to that spot by the window, where she had last kissed him. Warmth spread through him at the memory.

"Yeah," he said, remembering that moment before the Killing Curse when he'd felt the ghost of her lips against his.

"So? What was the verdict?" Ginny asked. He turned back to her, confused. "Any Veelas?"

A surprised huff of laughter escaped him. "No. Dragons and goblins and werewolves, but no Veelas."

Something in him ached at her genuine smile.

"And you?" he couldn't help but ask. "Did you…"

Find someone new? Somebody better?

"No Veelas at Hogwarts either," she said with an exaggerated sigh, and he felt the relief sink in, not that he had let himself admit to hope against all hope.

She tilted her head to the side toward him, but she didn't meet his eyes, instead letting her gaze linger on his chest. His heart gave a little twinge. Foolishly, Harry wondered if she could see the new scars underneath his shirt.

"I'm glad you came back," she said softly.

He reached out, needing to touch her, perhaps to remind himself that she was real, that he wasn't going to wake up in a cold tent, lost and alone.

His fingers carefully tucked a stray hair behind her ear, and finally, finally, she lifted her bright brown eyes to meet his. He let his fingers trace over a fading bruise on her cheek.

"You too," Harry said, voice thick. Because he needed her to know how scared he had been when he'd watch her leave the Room of Requirement, when he had demanded that she come back, come back, she had to come back. That instant when Bellatrix's spell had almost hit her, when he'd almost watched his future disappear.

Ginny gave him a shaky smile and leaned into his touch.

And then her lips were on his, and it was just as before, sunshine breaking through the chilly night, heat and bliss warming every part of him. Something tight burst within him as he pulled her close.

He never wanted to let go.

When they broke apart after several sunlit days, she pressed her face into the crook of his shoulder, his cheek resting against her hair.

There was so much still left unsaid, the year they'd each had, the Horcruxes, the Carrows, the map, the forest, Snape, Lupin, Tonks, Fred (oh God, Fred), but for now, this was enough. This was more than enough.

"Will you stay?" Ginny asked, her hand curled tight against his shirt. He covered her hand with his.

"Yes," he promised, because he could now.

They eased back onto the bed together, her head buried against his chest, his arms wrapped around her. Her warmth and weight kept him anchored. Harry closed his eyes and breathed her in, the noise beginning to quiet at last.