A/N: Whoops, I realize that I probably should have written one of these before. But whatever, it's my first fanfic so give me a break. Umm let's see what am I supposed to say? Oh right I don't own any of the characters or places or anything in the series that happens up until this point. All JKR's. Umm I think that's it, oh yeah I'm supposed to beg for reviews? Well I won't beg but if you like it or think it's pointless or have tips you can let me know.

Chapter 3: Promise

Harry turned to the doors that led into the Great Hall. He began to mentally prepare himself to go in. 'It's not your fault, you didn't make them fight for you, they weren't fighting only for you, if anyone is to blame it's Voldemort and he's gone, so get a grip and get in there.' He swallowed and tried to build up a wall of composure before going in. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward and shouldered through the doors into the great hall.

The four long house tables were pushed over to the right side of the hall, and were a makeshift hospital, with the wounded lying atop them whilst healers fresh from St. Mungo's bustled between tables carrying rolls of bandages and steaming goblets of potion. The other side of the great hall had a great open space, in which Harry could see row upon row of shrouded bodies. Harry blinked his eyes rapidly. He hadn't imagined that there would be so many bodies. As he struggled to control his emotions, he glanced along the rows until he spotted a group of flaming hair, huddled around the end of the last row. He didn't want to go, he didn't know if he could handle it. But he had to, had to come to terms with what this war had cost. He began to walk down the first row.

He was stopped every few feet by people jumping up to thank him and shake his hand. Through their smiles he could see the clouded pain in their eyes. The joy of this victory would always be tainted, he thought and he meandered his way up and down the rows, talking to everyone he came to. He passed Dennis Creevey, who was sitting at his brothers head, clutching Collin's battered camera to his chest. When he reached him Dennis jumped up and hugged Harry, who was surprised but hugged him back. Dennis, it seemed, could not find any words to say.

"He was a great wizard Dennis. We couldn't have done it without him. You should be proud. Make sure you tell you-your Mum and Dad why he died, what he was fighting for." Dennis smiled and looked proudly down at his older brother. Harry could see his chest swell with pride. Dennis thanked Harry, and sat back down, wiping a stray lock of hair off of his brother's forehead.

As Harry approached the next bodies, he had to stop. He stood and stared at Lupin and Tonks for what seemed like ages before he moved forward and squatted down in between them. "I'm so sorry," he said, staring sadly down at the pair, "I'm sorry you died. I'm sorry you won't know your son. I'm sorry he won't know you. No, he will. He will know everything about you, who you were, how you lived, and what you died for. I promise." Harry stood up. Teddy Lupin was not going to have the childhood Harry had had. He would know his parents. He would know the reason they died, and what it had given them. Harry, as his godfather, would make sure of it. Harry paused, thinking about his own godfather, and how it seemed he had hardly known him. He knew that Sirius had been in Azkaban, knew he couldn't have taken care of Harry, but still he thought how he would try and be just as good of a godfather to Harry, as Sirius would have been to him.

Harry walked on. He was nearing the end of the last row. There was no way to escape it. He would have to face the Weasley's eventually. As he drew closer he saw Mrs. Weasley sitting on the ground, stroking Fred's hair. Mr. Weasley stood behind her talking to Charlie and Bill. Percy was standing talking quietly to George, who gave no notice of him as he only had sad eyes for his beloved twin. Hermione was standing next to Ron, who was gazing down at his brother, squeezing her hand as if trying to prevent himself from collapsing. Ginny was nowhere to be found.

"Harry my boy." Mr. Weasley was the first to notice Harry as he stepped up and completed the circle around Fred. Mrs. Weasley gasped and made her way quickly over to Harry, who took a hesitant step backward. She engulfed him in a bone-crushing hug.

"Oh Harry dear. We're so glad you're alright." She smiled and looked him up and down. "You could do with some feeding up though, we'll get on that as soon as we get home." Harry just looked at her. He tried, but he couldn't see any hate in her eyes. A little happiness, and a huge cloud of sadness, but no anger. Could it be that the Weasley's didn't hate him?

As though he could read Harry's thoughts Bill spoke up. "You are planning on staying at the Burrow now right? It will be good for you to settle down somewhere, and not have to keep running." He shot a look of understanding toward Harry, who felt warmth for the elder Weasley brother spread through him.

"I, well if you want me, o-of course I'll come."

"Harry, why wouldn't we want you to come?" Mr. Weasley was looking with genuine concern at Harry. Harry swallowed and try as he might not to, his eyes blinked down to Fred before looking back at Mr. Weasley. He heard Mrs. Weasley stifle a sob beside him. "Harry," he faltered, as though he didn't know how to continue, "you know that you are as much a part of this family as I am don't you?" Harry felt the warmth spread through him again. He nodded.

"Ginny, Ginny wait!" There was a slam and Harry whirled around. The doors to the Great Hall were shuddering. Harry saw Neville moving toward them. He paused for a second and then dashed over to Neville. He skidded to a halt and Neville looked around.

"What happened?" Harry asked gesturing between Neville and the doors.

"Well, Ginny came in a moment ago and was talking to me and seemed fine. But then she looked over my shoulder and she kind of froze. Then she turned and sprinted out of the hall, and when I tried to follow her she closed the doors behind her. I don't think she even used her wand… she must have been really upset." Neville sent and apologetic look at Harry who felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. Not all of the Weasleys, it seemed, were so forgiving. The one who mattered most to him couldn't even bear to be in the same room with him. Harry turned as he heard hurried footsteps approaching. Ron and Hermione stopped when they drew level with him.

"What's going on mate?" Ron asked looking puzzled from Harry to Neville.

"Ginny, she-" Neville started but Harry cut him off.

"Do you know where she would have gone Neville?" Harry asked urgently. Neville shook his head. Ron opened his mouth to speak but Harry had already set off to the doors of the Great Hall at a run. Harry burst through the doors and stopped to look around. Behind him he could faintly hear Ron talking angrily and Hermione using her calming tone of voice. But none of that mattered at the moment. He needed to find Ginny. He needed to explain things to her, explain everything. He needed to get her back.

But what if she wouldn't have him? What if he had pushed her so far away that there was no going back? 'No,' he thought to himself, 'that wouldn't happen. Not Ginny.' Was it possible that after everything he had done to bring down Voldemort one of his biggest reasons for fighting wouldn't even speak with him again?

Harry shook his head trying to clear the thoughts. Well, even if she wouldn't have him back, he still owed her an explanation. She was never one to like being kept in the dark, and that was all Harry had been doing to her since last summer.

Resigned to accept his fate, he set about trying to find Ginny. He ran up to the Gryffindor common room. The Fat Lady let him in without the password overjoyed to see him. He searched in vain. Retreating from the dorms he searched everywhere she might be. After half an hour he resorted to opening the doors of classrooms. No, Ginny wasn't the type to lock herself away inside. That's it, he thought, and sprinted back down the marble stair case and burst through what remained of the main entrance to the castle.

The funeral pyre had almost burned itself out. What was left of the bodies was collapsed into a pile about two feet high and was quiet smoldering. Kingsley and several other Aurors stood guard. He sprinted past them, eyes fixed on his destination. The tree that he, Ron, and Hermione had sat under that very morning, the tree that James, Lupin, Sirius, and Pettigrew had tormented Snape under, and the tree where he and Ginny had spent so many wonderful days last year was growing closer and Harry ran and he could just make out a small, vividly red-headed figure sitting underneath it.