A/N: Here's part two as promised! Hope you enjoy, and I'd appreciate a review if you do! Also, I didn't mention this in the first part, but I did write this to tie in with my Show a Little Faith world, which is only evident by the state of Ron and Hermione's relationship. And if you haven't read those stories, here's my shameless plug for you to do so. If you want to see Ron and Hermione hash things put, read my story Say What You Mean to Say.
Also, the characters are obviously not mine, but there are also a few lines pulled from the last chapter of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, and those aren't mine either.
Enough of that. Happy reading!
Sleep seemed like an impossibility. As exhausted as she was, Ginny's mind couldn't and wouldn't settle down. Flashes of spells, fire, tumbling walls, blood, fallen friends…fallen family. She saw it all when she closed her eyes.
She'd Flooed to the Burrow with her parents and made sure they had everything they needed before realizing there was nothing left to do besides turn in herself. It had been more of a relief than she'd expected to find Hermione when she entered her room. She was sitting on the spare camp bed with Crookshanks curled in her lap, silent tears falling from her eyes as she stroked his ginger fur.
"I think he missed you," said Ginny as she sat on her own bed. She'd barely used her voice the past few hours, choosing to listen to the others make plans than to contribute much. Her words came out strained as a result, the dust she'd inhaled and the screams she'd uttered probably playing a hand in the sore condition of her throat.
"I missed him too," said Hermione, sniffling and wiping at her eyes. "I missed the Burrow, I missed you...I miss my parents."
A fresh wave of tears overtook Hermione, but they calmed quickly as she breathed deeply.
"Sorry," she said, drying her eyes once again. "You're dealing with a lot more than I am right now."
Ginny watched her friend for a moment before shrugging. "Not more," she said. "Just different."
Hermione gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you. It's nice to be able to talk to someone other than two teenage boys for a change."
Ginny couldn't help letting out a dry chuckle. As much time as she'd spent wishing she'd gone with them over the months, she also couldn't imagine what it must've actually been like. All three of them were thinner than she'd ever seen them, their hair long and eyes gaunt and skin pale and rough. They'd been through more than she could probably ever understand, even though she'd been through her fair share over the past few months as well.
Not more. Just different.
"Is that why you're in here instead of up there?" said Ginny with a tilt of her head towards the ceiling, indicating where Ron's attic bedroom was.
"I suppose that's part of it," said Hermione, her eyes focused on the cat that was beginning to doze in her lap. "I did miss you, and...and as much as I'd like to...well, I just feel like I need to give it time."
Her cheekbones were flushed pink even as she couldn't help glancing up towards the ceiling as well. As if she could see through the multiple levels of the Burrow to the bright orange bedroom at the top.
"Things finally working out between you and my brother?" asked Ginny, surprisingly grateful that there was something as ordinary as young love to talk about.
"Well…" Hermione began, nervously stroking Crookshanks' fur at a more rapid pace. "I suppose they're starting to. I just...we've all got a lot to grieve, don't we? I don't want to push it when he's not ready. And he obviously isn't. He and Harry went straight up to his room when they got here. I haven't really seen him since we left Harry to get some rest in the tower."
Ginny studied the girl sitting across from her. "Hermione, you do realize that my brother probably doesn't give a shit about the timing and would be more than bloody happy if you stormed up there right now and snogged him like your life depended on it, right?"
It surprised Ginny that instead of receiving the usual scolding for even suggesting such a ridiculous thing, Hermione's cheeks grew even more pink and she buried her face in her hands.
"Hang on," said Ginny, a teasing smile blooming across her face. "Does that mean you…?"
Hermione peaked at Ginny through her fingers before slowly dragging her hands down her face, revealing a flickering smile. "Just...one time."
Ginny's mouth dropped in shock, but Hermione was scrambling to explain before she could comment.
"And we haven't talked about it and of course I want to but like I said," she said a bit breathlessly, "I want to give him space to work through everything and not distract him with...whatever it is that's between us. The main reason I never said anything last summer was because I knew we needed to stay focused. I know Ron, and if we actually got things started, he'd just bury himself in me instead of working through his emotions."
Ginny couldn't help raising her brow at Hermione's choice of words, which seemed to register a moment later as she covered her now bright red face with her hands once again.
"I didn't mean it like that," she moaned in embarrassment. Ginny chuckled good naturedly.
"Don't worry," she assured her. "I'm by no means ignorant of the fact that the both of you would very much like to shag each other's brains out-"
"Oh, Merlin, Ginny, stop!" Hermione nearly squealed before throwing herself on the bed and burying her face in her pillow, dislodging a thoroughly put out Crookshanks in the process.
"I'm sorry," Ginny said with a chuckle. "I'll stop teasing. And trust me, this normally would not be on the top of my list to talk about, but it's a much nicer option than all the other rubbish going on."
A somber feeling immediately filtered into the room at Ginny's words. It was exactly why she'd grabbed at the topic of her brother and his best friend's changing relationship. Everything else was too heavy. Too overwhelming. Too confusing to even know what to think about first.
Voldemort was dead. Tom Riddle, who'd tormented her when she was eleven years old, was finally gone, no longer able to harm anyone. Yet the damage he had inflicted would continue to cause pain and turmoil for a long time. Her family would be forever broken because of the war he'd brought to their world.
Fred was dead. Gone. Never again would he make her laugh or drive her mad with his constant pestering about her personal life. People tended to think that Fred and George were identical in every way, but that wasn't true. There was something about George that calmed Fred, while something about Fred invigorated George. They were supposed to spend their lives causing trouble and doing good and making people laugh, because they always did everything best when they did it together. But now what? It was impossible to imagine George without Fred, and it scared her to think that, in some way, she might have lost more than one brother that day.
It was almost too much to dwell on all the others they had lost, even though she grieved for them too. For little Teddy Lupin who would never know his parents. Just like Harry.
Harry.
He'd been dead. She and everyone else had believed he was dead. It had been the most agonizing moment of her entire life. So much lost already, only to lose not only the last hope they had, but the one person she couldn't bear to imagine her life without. Her emotions had been a mixture of relief, anger, frustration and joy since she'd seen him standing in the middle of the battle, prepared to face the moment he'd been inevitably moving towards since the day he'd become The Boy Who Lived. It was driving her mad that she hadn't talked to him, but she also wouldn't even know where to begin if she had the chance.
And did he even want to talk to her? Had his feelings changed? Had he missed her while he was gone? Had he thought of her at all?
"Hermione?" she said, breaking the silence that had settled around them.
"Yes?" Hermione prompted when she failed to continue. Ginny sighed, unable to think of a way to phrase her question that didn't sound callus or petty.
"I was just wondering if-"
She fell silent as Hermione shushed her and sat up in the bed. And then Ginny heard it too. Someone was making their way down the stairs.
"I thought everyone had gone to bed," said Hermione, continuing to listen as what was obviously two people stopped for a moment and then started walking once again.
"Yeah," said Ginny, "and I think I can take a pretty good guess who that is."
Hermione looked at her curiously. "Really?"
Ginny nodded. "You figure these things out after living here long enough. It's got to be Ron and Harry. They came from the top floor."
Hermione nodded, both of them falling silent to listen as the footsteps reached their door and paused once again.
"What do you think they're waiting for?" Hermione whispered nervously. Ginny shrugged and shook her head.
"Not sure. They might just be checking in. Making sure everyone's safe and sound."
Hermione nodded, her eyes focused on the closed door. Ginny thought she saw the knob starting to turn, and before she could stop herself, she let out a whispered, "Ron?"
The door remained closed as someone hurried away from it and down the rest of the stairs, followed hesitantly by their companion.
Ginny flopped down onto her bed with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling in frustration. And relief.
She wanted to see Harry. And talk to him. And do a lot of things. But was she ready? Was he?
"Well," Hermione sighed, and Ginny heard her getting comfortable on the cot across from her. "I suppose we should get some sleep?"
Ginny nodded, her thoughts tumbling around as she let out a soft hum in agreement.
"Wait," said Hermione, and Ginny turned her head to see her paused in the act of turning off the lamp. "Were you going to ask me something?"
With a small smile that could've been mistaken for a grimace, Ginny shook her head. "No, it's fine. It can wait."
Hermione looked at her skeptically for a moment, but Ginny didn't give her a chance to argue, turning onto her side and away from Hermione with a mumbled, "Goodnight."
The light clicked off a few seconds later, and Ginny released a sigh, thankful that Hermione hadn't pressed her.
"He missed you," Hermione said suddenly. "He never really talked about it, but I know he did. I caught him following your dot on the map a few times. Even though he had a job to do and so much to deal with, you were never far from his mind."
Ginny squeezed her eyes shut and let out a shaky sigh. She couldn't say a thing. There was nothing to say. But Hermione didn't seem to expect anything as she whispered goodnight and lay down to sleep.
The light had been out for almost half an hour when Ginny couldn't take it anymore. Not only were the horrible images she saw every time she closed her eyes keeping her awake, but knowing that her brother and his best friend were downstairs was impossible to ignore. She couldn't help listening to see what would happen when they went back to their room. But they hadn't. She'd heard laughter not too long ago, and it only aggravated her restlessness.
She turned to see Hermione sleeping soundly, Crookshanks curled up next to her. Ginny carefully and quietly crawled out of bed, grabbing the sweatshirt hanging on the end of her bed and throwing it on over her tank top and sweat shorts before creeping silently out of the room.
Seeing him sitting there as she entered the kitchen, relaxed and comfortable in her family home once again, a light to his eyes that she'd rarely seen as he drank her in…it had all been too much. She hadn't planned on just bolting out the door, but everything she wanted to say and do had suddenly become impossible. Especially with two of her brothers in the room.
Speaking of her brothers, she was having a hard time being annoyed with them as they badgered Harry into talking to her. She leaned against the porch railing and bit her lip to keep down a smile as they started pouring out advice, and she could clearly imagine the wide-eyed and overwhelmed look Harry was probably sporting. It had been a pretty easy decision to put him out of his misery.
The agonizing seconds that ticked by as she waited for him to join her seemed to last years. But then she heard the screen door creaking open behind her and her grip on the railing tightened. She nearly grinned at the sound of the main door closing before the screen swung shut as well, giving them even more privacy. Ginny made sure she was remembering to breathe as the sound of his bare feet against the worn down wood of the deck grew closer.
And then his hands were resting on the railing, the sleeve of his t-shirt catching in the wind as a cool breeze stirred the calm night. There was a moment after Voldemort had fallen that she'd been able to hold him in her arms, but it had been fleeting. She'd barely had a chance to confirm for herself that he was alive and breathing and had a beating heart before someone else was dragging him into a congratulatory embrace.
Now all she wanted was to drink in every bit of him. Feel his hand in hers, his heart beating in his chest, his breath on her cheek, and his lips on her skin.
She also wanted to scream and slap him and cast a well aimed jinx and cry her eyes out in frustration. And even though they'd been standing there silently for more than a minute, she hadn't yet mustered up the strength to fully look at him when he spoke.
"Couldn't sleep either?"
Ginny shrugged. "Bit hard to with you prats carrying on."
She saw him reach up to rub his neck out of the corner of her eye. "Sorry."
Ginny pursed her lips and focused her attention on her hands, anything to keep her from looking into his green eyes. "Can't begrudge you that, really," she said softly. "I imagine you've been through quite a lot."
Harry let out a heavy sigh, and his hand fell back to the railing and into her line of site as he turned to face her, his fingers only inches from her own. "Look, Ginny-"
"You don't have to explain," she cut him off before he could start rattling off excuses.
"I do, though," he insisted, and she felt the sincerity in his voice. "At least, I want to. I'm done with not telling you things."
Ginny couldn't help feeling a rush of relief and gratitude at his words. "I appreciate that," she said, still not daring to look at him yet, "and that's enough for me, for now. I understand if you need time."
She noted him shaking his head out of the corner of her eye. "I don't want to wait. Partly because I'm worried the longer I go not talking about it, the harder it'll be to eventually do. But mostly because not only do you deserve to know, I want you to. I want you to know everything I haven't been able to tell you. So, if you're ready to hear it…Ginny, all you have to do is ask and I'll tell you anything you want to know."
His offer had her heart hammering in her chest, adrenaline beginning to kick up at the prospect of finally airing it all out. No more secrets.
"Anything?" she asked.
Harry nodded. And Ginny took a deep breath before finally looking up at him, finding his eyes completely locked on her and more open than she'd ever seen them. There were so many things she wanted to ask, but the one thing she couldn't shake was the truth behind the words exchanged between Harry and Voldemort when they faced each other for the final time.
"I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people-"
"But you didn't!"
"I meant to!"
"You were supposed to die, right?" she choked out before she could think better of it. "That's why you went to the forest. You didn't run. You did it on purpose, didn't you?"
His jaw clenched at her words and his eyes grew glassy with unshed tears. He cleared his throat and gazed out across the garden before finally looking her in the eye once again. The subtle nod he gave was more than enough to convey the truth. It was also all that was needed to finally push Ginny over the edge.
"You stupid - shelfish - unfeeling - idiot!" she said through clenched teeth, shoving him in the chest with each word. "Do you ever think, Potter?" she snapped, glaring up into his startled green eyes and clenching her fists to keep from shoving him again. "Do you ever think about anyone other than yourself?"
"What? Ginny, of course-"
Her scoff cut him off. "Yes, Hero Potter, of course he did it with noble intentions. But did you ever once stop to think about what would happen if you died? How much I…how it would…"
She was so very close to breaking down into uncontrollable tears, the grief coming through as the shock wore off and reality sunk in.
"Ginny," Harry said imploringly, his hands up either to protect himself or attempt to placate her. "You have to believe...If there'd been any other way...You were…you were the last thing I thought about."
Ginny felt her heart lodge impossibly high in her throat. "What?"
Harry paused, his eyes drinking her in, and Ginny held up a hand to keep him at bay as he made to move closer.
"The last thing you thought about before what?" she insisted. She had to know the answer. Even if she already knew, she had to hear him say it. Harry didn't even blink or attempt to turn away as he looked her straight in the eye and answered.
"You were the last thing I thought of before I died."
No. It didn't make any sense. How could he still be standing here, very much alive, if he'd died in the forest hours ago as he claimed?
"No," said Ginny, shaking her head in disbelief. "You...you didn't...that can't be what happened."
"It's a bit complicated," said Harry, which was putting it lightly as far as Ginny could tell. She merely watched him expectantly, and he heaved a heavy sigh before turning to lean back against the railing, his arms folded and his eyes unfocused as he began to speak.
"The reason I didn't die the night Voldemort killed my parents, was because my mother sacrificed herself to save me. Love that powerful...it created a protection around me. In me. He couldn't kill me. Not after what she did."
This made sense to Ginny. With what Harry had said to Voldemort about dying to protect them, it was easy to see.
"But, that night in the graveyard," he continued, "he took some of my blood, taking some of her protection with it and giving it to himself. Quirrell died from touching me in my first year because of that protection, so if he wanted to have any chance of killing me, Voldemort had to make it so her sacrifice no longer protected me. From that point on, I became vulnerable to him, but I also became impossible for him to kill."
Ginny looked at him in confusion. "So…" she began uncertainly. "So, because your blood was in him..."
"Her protection remained," Harry finished. "So even though I meant for him to kill me, he couldn't. The fact that I went willingly made all the difference."
That part was still hard to fully accept. That he'd gone so willingly.
"Do you know what made him go after you in the first place?" she found herself asking, wanting to focus on something else. The question seemed to startle Harry, though, almost as if he forgot she didn't know.
He told her about the prophecy, the one that Trelawney made and Snape overheard and the reason they'd been drawn to the Ministry in her fourth year to begin with. How Voldemort had only heard part of it and marked Harry as his enemy. Everyone had always said he was The Chosen One. The one to finally defeat Voldemort. Ginny had believed it, but she'd never imagined that it was Voldemort who had chosen Harry himself, ensuring the prophecy was fulfilled by attempting to kill him and marking him for life.
"So if he had just ignored the prophecy and not gone after you, it would never have come to pass?" she asked, crossing her arms and resting her hip against the railing. Harry nodded.
"I spent a good bit of time being quite infuriated by that, actually," he admitted. "But, in the end, it made him vulnerable. It's hard to say if we would've been able to beat him otherwise."
At her quizzical look, Harry continued, explaining how Voldemort had managed to continue to come back.
Horcruxes. It was something Ginny had never heard of before, and it made her shiver to even comprehend something like that existed. And as Harry began to explain the qualities of a Horcrux and started listing off the ones Voldemort had made, Ginny understood why the mere thought of them made her skin crawl.
"There was a ring that belonged to his grandfather, Ravenclaw's diadem, Hufflepuff's cup, a locket that belonged to Slytherin, his snake, and-"
"The diary," she said, her voice breathless as Harry looked at her apologetically. "Tom Riddle's diary was a Horcrux."
She didn't need to see Harry's nod to confirm it. With a shaky breath, Ginny sunk to her knees, continuing to grip the railing so she at least remained upright. A part of Voldemort - a part of his soul - had been her confidant, had taken control of her, had used her. No wonder she still had nightmares.
"You...uh," said Ginny, a tremor in her voice as she tried to grab onto something else. Another fact, the next part in the story, anything that could distract her from fully processing this new information. "You said there were seven? What was the last one?"
She glanced at Harry when he remained silent, realizing he'd knelt next to her, his hands gripping his thighs as if he were using all his restraint not to reach out and touch her. And for some reason, he seemed even more nervous to answer this question than he had any other.
"He, uh...he meant to just split his soul into seven," he began. "So the six horcruxes, plus the bit of him that came back that night in the graveyard."
He paused and watched her again, and Ginny grew confused. "So...he was the seventh?"
"Sort of," Harry said slowly. "He was already split into seven when he made his last horcrux - the snake."
Ginny looked at him with a furrowed brow. "So there were eight? He split his soul eight ways?"
Harry gave a nod as this information sunk in. But why did he still look so nervous?
"Okay, so he changed his mind and split his soul into eight instead?"
Harry grimaced before adjusting his position so he was sitting facing her, his legs criss-crossed as he rested his forearms on his knees, clasped his hands together, and took a deep breath.
"No," he said, his eyes focused on his hands. "He definitely didn't do it on purpose."
Ginny sighed, running her hand through her hair and mirroring Harry's position on the ground. She let out a shiver and pulled the cuffs of her sweatshirt over her hands as a cool breeze swept through. "Can you just tell me?" she asked. "Because I'm obviously not asking the right questions and there's something you're having a very hard time just coming out and saying."
Harry's gaze remained on his hands, then shifted to hers, and Ginny's heart pounded as he slowly reached out and brushed his fingers over the cotton-covered back of her hand. She didn't even think before turning it over and letting him trail his fingers against her palm. Her breath caught at his touch, more familiar than she'd expected it to be. They'd only been together for a month? Maybe? How had she memorized the feel of him in so short a time?
"When Voldemort tried to kill me sixteen years ago," he said softly, his hand resting gently in hers, "the curse rebounded off me, hit him, and split his already fragile soul into two once again. And the part of him that split latched onto the only living thing there."
She'd been focused on his hand in hers, but his words had her eyes flashing to his. Harry held her gaze as her hand tightened its grip.
"He didn't kill me," Harry said calmly. "He killed the part of himself that had lived in me since the night he killed my parents."
Ginny closed her eyes and inhaled sharply, Harry's thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of her hand. And then a tear was running down her cheek and he was pulling her close. A sob escaped her as she tightened her arms around his neck and curled herself into his lap. He gently rocked her as she cried into his neck, one arm around her waist and the other draped over her lap as he soothingly caressed her bare thigh. Ginny could feel his heart beating a comforting rhythm against her own, reassuring her that no matter what he'd faced, what he'd endured for almost his entire life, he was alive. He was holding her and comforting her and letting her in more than he ever had before.
And the realization that it was all over and behind them brought a previously unreleased relief to Ginny that had her tightening her hold on him and sobbing even harder.
"I had to do it, Ginny," Harry whispered, a shake in his voice as he held her close. "I had to do it because he had to die. And maybe it was a selfish choice, because I did it knowing it was the only way that the people I love could possibly survive, and I couldn't bear the thought of…" She felt him swallow and tighten his grip. "Ginny, I died so you wouldn't have to. And the last thing I thought of was you. Of seeing you and holding you and…"
His breath was shaky as he adjusted his hold on her, his hand trailing up her back so he could bury it in her hair. He inhaled deeply, breathing her in and tightening his grip on her leg. And the reality of what he was saying wasn't lost on Ginny.
She loosened her hold around his neck and lifted her head. Harry's hand immediately came around to wipe the tears off her cheeks and gently brush her hair out of her face, and she wasn't surprised to find that he was very near tears as well.
"I'm not sure if that makes me angry or…"
"Or what?" he asked softly. Ginny studied his green eyes for a moment before realizing that as much as she wanted to stay mad at him for doing something so incredibly selfless, she knew she couldn't. Because if he hadn't done it, he wouldn't be Harry Potter. He wouldn't be the boy - now man - that she loved.
"I'm not going to pretend to believe that you're now just going to live a quiet life with no threat of danger," she said, avoiding his question for a moment. "I know you're probably going to do everything you can to help the Ministry track down the last of the Death Eaters, and then you'll probably officially join the Aurors and make a hell of a good dark wizard catcher, and I've made my peace with that. But can you please, just promise me, that you'll do your absolute fucking best to never do something so entirely selfless ever again?"
Her heart fluttered in her chest as he cracked a soft smile, no doubt amused by her words but also - she hoped - happy to know that she knew him so well.
"I think I can promise that."
Ginny sighed and closed her eyes before gently resting her forehead against his. "Good," she said softly. "Because I might not be so forgiving next time, no matter how much I love you."
Harry's breath was shaky as he let out a deep sigh, his arms going around her waist and his hands gripping her sweatshirt. He took a few seconds before whispering back, "I love you too."
Ginny couldn't help grinning as she trailed one hand up into his overgrown dark hair. "I know," she said. "Wasn't too hard to figure out. Especially with Ron and Charlie carrying on about it."
He let out a silent chuckle, one of his hands moving to softly cup her cheek. "I can't promise I'll be very good at it."
His words had Ginny pulling back so she could meet his nervous gaze. "Good at what?"
He gave an uncomfortable shrug and avoided her gaze, even as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I know love is a feeling, but it's an action too. A pretty powerful one at times, but also a normal, everyday thing. I'm not sure I'm the best at that. I didn't have terribly good examples growing up."
It was obvious to her how much this mattered to him - that he love her well. She smiled softly and gently ran her hand through his hair. "Harry, you want to love me. And you've done a lot that shows you've chosen to, and that's a hell of a start. Just don't doubt yourself. I'm pretty sure you know how to love better than anyone I know."
Any remaining tension he held left him at her words and he breathed a sigh of relief, a smile flickering across his lips even as a single tear slipped down his cheek. "You make it pretty easy, you know. Falling in love with you was…" he shook his head in disbelief. "It's the best thing I've ever done."
Ginny's grin nearly split her face in two. "I'm sure there's an entire wizarding world that would beg to differ."
Harry gave an indifferent shrug. "Then they can stuff it for all I care."
And then she was giggling as he leaned in and gently brushed his nose against hers. Ginny's eyes fell closed and her hand tangled in his hair as he softly pressed his lips against hers.
And even though things weren't perfect, they were close enough. The world was still broken and their grief would continue to come in waves, but as Ginny sunk into Harry's embrace, she couldn't help feeling a new sense of calm. All might not be well quite yet, but she had a good feeling that one day, that would change, and the peaceful days would outnumber the painful ones. And through it all, she'd still have the people she loved and who loved her too. Including Harry Potter, who loved her enough to die for her, which she could see herself growing thankful for one day.
So long as he never, ever did it again.