Chapter 25

Weasley family dinners were always loud and rambunctious, which meant that Ginny could pretend that a certain dark haired, green-eyed man was not currently sitting across from her. Everyone that could be there was there to welcome Harry back. Fred, George and his girlfriend Katie, Charlie, Bill, Fleur, and baby Simone. Hermione had been invited, but she had regretfully declined, having to leave early in the morning for a job in Spain. Ginny understood —it was hard for Hermione to be around so many things that reminded her of Ron, even now after so many years.

The extra place setting was left out once again for Percy —a gesture of hope by Molly Weasley. His body had never been found after the battle at the Ministry five years ago, and Ginny's mum still held onto the belief that her son could be alive. The Weasley children worried about her and the fact that she had never fully gotten over Ron or Percy's deaths, but no words were mentioned about that tonight.

Tonight was a night of celebration. Harry Potter had come home!

Ginny ate quietly while her other family members asked Harry all kinds of silly questions. Anything from "Have you been eating well?" to "Did you see that last Canons match? It was brilliant." No one asked where he had been for the last few years. No one seemed to care. It didn't matter to anyone as long as he was back —and safe.

But it mattered to Ginny.

She still hadn't been able to ask him why he had left and stayed away for so long, still hadn't been able to find where he had been, what he had done. Had he met someone while he was away? Had he dated? Had he fallen in love?

Harry had said that he had come back for her. But what did that mean, exactly? She mulled all of this over as she chewed her mashed potatoes and listened to the conversations around her.

Ginny was brought out of her reverie when she felt a small hand tugging on her skirt, the nice charcoal grey one that she had finally decided to wear after hours of raiding her closet, fretting over tonight's dinner. She glanced down to see her niece, Simone, trying to get her attention. Her heart immediately warmed.

Simone was four years old now and had been born weak and prone to illness due to Fluer being cursed while she was pregnant during the war. The strawberry blond little girl smiled up at her and Ginny lifted her into her lap. "What's that?" she asked excitedly as she looked at the small horse-shaped toy held in the little girl's grasp.

"'S a pony!" the little girl said with a wide smile. She went on to tell Ginny everything that she knew on the subject of ponies, blissfully clearing her aunt's mind of any worries.

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Harry watched her from across the table. She was so beautiful as she smiled and laughed with her niece. Her glittering scarlet hair fell around her shoulders in long, smooth waves, and her nose scrunched up just the tiniest bit as she giggled at something Simone had said. She hadn't changed, not one bit. He knew she wouldn't. She was Ginny Weasley, the one constant in his crazy life. His Gin.

"Hey, Harry! You want the rest of your chicken?" one of the twins asked to his left, and he shook his head, smiling as the older man grabbed the meat from his plate.

His gaze slid up to watch Ginny again as she began tickling her niece in earnest, making the little girl squeal joyously, adding to the noise around the table as people spoke and ate. Loud. Everyone in the burrow was so loud, and it was a pleasant change from where he had been a month ago.

He had missed this, missed her… Missed all of them. A contented sigh escaped his lips. He was home.

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After dinner, Ginny helped her mother to clear the table. Bill and Fleur had to leave to put Simone to bed. Charlie had to get back to Romania before nightfall, and George and Katie decided to leave a bit early as well with Fred not far behind.

After setting the dishes to work, cleaning themselves, Ginny dried her hands off on a dish towel and stepped into the living room to find Harry standing by the mantle. She moved closer to him slowly. His back was rigid and his stance was one of an exhausted man. She knew what he would be looking at as she reached his side and peered over his shoulder, the line of photos that sat on the mantle.

His hand was resting on the side of a large, wooden frame holding a wizarding photo of the famous 'trio' as they were- six years ago. It was after a Quidditch match, Ron had an arm slung around Harry's neck, a wide smile on his face as Harry wiggled to get free from his friend's grasp. Harry had a large grin on his own face as his mouth opened in obvious laughter. Hermione stood on the other side of Ron, his other arm wrapped possessively around her waist, and her face was scrunched in a look of happiness and good humor.

Ron. He had been the tie that kept the three of them together.

A soft wistful smile crossed her features and she turned to Harry to see a small smile on his face. Hesitantly, she placed a hand on his arm, shaking him from his reverie. "Alright, Harry?" she asked.

He nodded, placing a wide hand over the small pale one on his arm. "Let's go for a walk," he said after a moment, placing her hand in his as he moved to the door and outside.

The wooden door creaked closed and slammed lightly against its frame as they walked away from the house. The night was cool and crisp, and crickets were singing all around them, a symphony of nature in the otherwise quiet night.

She let him lead her away from the lights of the house and past the make-shift Quidditch pitch. There in the distance was their bench, a rickety old thing, where they often would sit and chat when Ron and Hermione were arguing too much for even Harry to stand.

It was on that bench that a much younger Ginny had realized that she loved Harry. Not just his name, or childish dreams of who he was, but him —a small, tortured boy who knew little about life or love, but lived each day as if it were a great adventure.

It was fitting that he would bring her here now. The light of the moon bathed the bench in a soft white glow as Harry finally sat and gestured for her to do the same.

When she had taken her seat, Harry let out a long and loud breath. "I guess we need to talk," he whispered, making the understatement of the century.

Ginny was silent as she watched him, the light of the moon turning his hair an ashy grey and glinting off of his glasses, hiding his green eyes from view. He fingered the collar of his shirt nervously. "I don't know where to begin," he admitted.

Ginny's eyes slid to the ground. She removed her shoes, letting her feet be caressed by the grass. "Where did you go?" she asked after a few beats, her gaze still away from him.

He huffed out a heavy breath and leaned back his head on his hands, his eyes trained on the stars above. "Everywhere. Nowhere."

She bobbed her head in understanding. "What did you do?" she ventured, bitterly.

"I… moved around a lot. Did odd jobs for money and kept moving."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes. I learned a lot… about myself, about who I want to be"

"Then why come back?"

"Because you're a part of who I want to be, Ginny," he answered, his eyes boring into hers.

She laughed bitterly. "It took you five years to realize that? I've known that since I was ten!" Her voice broke off.

He tensed at her tone, and Ginny's voice raised an octave as she continued, her anger and pain finally taking control of her voice. "Why did you leave? Why didn't you write? I waited for you. For so long, I waited and you never came home! I was shattered!"

"I couldn't come back!" he exclaimed, pleading for her to understand.

"Why didn't you write?" she whispered again as a warm tear cascaded down her face. "I thought- Gods, I was so stupid. I thought we would be together forever. I didn't know that there was an end of the road. I didn't know that it would be so easy for you just to let it all go." Her tears were falling quickly now and she wiped at them with a quiet yell of aggravation. She was so weak. She hated it.

"It wasn't easy," he mumbled, grabbing her hands and stopping her from drying her tears. "Ginny…" He pulled her against him and she curled her fingers into his shirt as she cried. He laid his head gently upon hers, rubbing a comforting hand up and down her arm.

"Do you know how hard it was for me?" she gasped. "I didn't know if you were alive or dead! I had already lost Ron, and Hermione came back so different…"

Harry was silent as the woman he loved sobbed against him. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, his guilt swallowing him up.

"I lost you both, both of you at the same time. I was all alone, Harry, and the only thing that kept me sane was the dream that you would come home to me. But you never did—Why?" she yelled, punching him in the chest.

Harry held her tightly as she fought him, his eyes closed tightly.

"Why!" She screamed again and he snapped.

"I couldn't! Merlin, Gin—it was my fault he died! What was I supposed to do? Come up and say 'Hey, Weasley clan, sorry I couldn't do anything to save Ron. Will you still let me in?'"

Ginny sat up straight, roughly pulling herself from Harry grasp. Quick as a flash, her palm connected with his cheek. "You're still the same! You're still that silly boy dealing with your guilt and blaming yourself for things that ARENT YOUR FAULT!"

The slap had hurt, but her words wounded him more deeply, the stinging pain of truth.

"We needed you, Harry. I needed you," she whispered.

"It was my fault," he protested. "I just—I couldn't face all of you. I promised to keep him safe and I failed."

She stood from the bench rigidly and walked a few steps away, wrapping her arms around herself. "Hermione told me what happened that night, how he—Voldemort— came unexpectedly, how you told them to stay back and they followed." She smiled faintly. "Ron was always so stubborn, he would've followed you anywhere..."

"Even to his death," Harry muttered.

Ginny turned towards him. "It wasn't your fault," she said quietly, and the words floated across the field.

He ran a hand through his hair roughly, making it stand up in odd places and messing it up more that it already was. "I wanted it to be me that night. Me who died, and not him"

"Ron wouldn't want you to—"

"I know. It took me five years to realize it, but I know. He'd want me to be happy, and the only place I've ever been happy has been here. With you." A warm breeze blew over the grass and time stood still as she watched him watching her. It was as if the last five years hadn't really happened. They were still sixteen and seventeen.

"I meant it when I said that I came back for you, Gin," he uttered as he stood and stepped over to her side. His eyes searched hers in the moonlight. "I want to try again," he whispered as he lowered his lips to hers.

The kiss was slow and sweet, an innocent brushing of lips that made Ginny's heart feel warm. This was her Harry.

They parted slowly and Harry rested his brow against hers, a short chuckle escaping his lips. "It feels the same, your kisses. You're the same--you haven't changed." He breathed, his words brushing against her skin.

Her brows knit together slightly in thought before she leaned her face up and captured his lips once more. They would try again.

A/N: Sorry sorry sorry! Its a H/G chapter, I know...but just keep reading! It gets better, I promise!