It was not everyday that one witnessed the loss of a life.
Unless of course your name was Harry Potter.
Over the course of his twenty-something years, he'd bore witness to more death than most witnessed in all of their lives. War would do that to a person though, he supposed. Now that said war was over, he'd looked forward to living in peace and tranquility… which didn't feel like it'd ever truly come. Even now, some five years after the war's end he was still dealing with loss and battles. Of course it was not nearly as rampant as it had once been, most of Voldemort's loyal supporters were locked away or dead... But a select few still roamed freely, still popped up from wherever it was that they hid to cause nothing but trouble.
Which was what led him to that exact moment.
The Muggle man knelt beside the body of his wife, who had breathed her last breath only a few moments before. Two Muggles, innocent bystanders, caught in the crossfire of a onetime Death Eater duo who -thought they could single-handedly bring down Harry Potter. Just like that, he was fifteen again, sixteen, seventeen… Watching someone die simply because of who he was. "Mate," beside him, Ron was pointing towards the Death Eaters, who though tied by ropes at their hands and feet, were beginning to stir and thrash about. Swallowing, Harry nodded his head and watched as Ron strode forward, his wand pointing high into the air to emit a burst of blue sparks, followed by a burst of green. Both of which would signal the Ministry to captured Death Eaters as well as a dead Muggle. Within moments the wizards and witches were on scene, some from Akzaban's department, the others from the Muggle Liaison Department. As always, they would have to blast the memory of how the man's wife had died. He would have no memory of how she died, merely the pain of it happening at all.
As he always did after a particularly hard mission, Harry felt the twinge of pain one felt whenever loss was suffered. His own scars prickled and he longed to feel the familiar warmth of his loved ones. He cast a quick glance towards Ron, his best friend and now his brother, and felt relief spreading through him to know he was well and safe. His mind turned to the others, his wife and the rest of their family… There were so many he now could call family… He needed to see her.
When all was said and done and the Muggle man had been transported away and the notes were written up and signed, Harry and Ron Apparated away, leaving the other Ministry members to clean up the last of the mess. Though once they might have appeared in the same places, neither he nor Ron lived at the Burrow any longer. They both had their own, respective homes near each other's, and both lived with the women they loved. Harry had, as soon as it'd been possible, gone to the Ministry to seek approval for returning his parent's old home to living conditions. It had been granted immediately. At first, it had been mostly he and Ron living there, with Hermione joining them on her breaks during her last year at school (of course they'd not returned themselves). That following year, Ginny joined in their ranks of spending her breaks at the home, bouncing between there and the Burrow. Then, Ginny's school days had ended and everything began to change. That same summer, the one where Harry turned nineteen, Ron and Hermione married in a small ceremony in the backyard of the Burrow. That fall when Ginny turned eighteen, in fact on that same night, Harry took her by the hand and slipped a diamond on her finger. The following spring, they too wed in the backyard of the Burrow.
Their marriage was but two years old that night he returned from the mission where the Muggle man lost his wife. In fact, it was their two year anniversary, and his twenty-first birthday loomed in those coming months. And something else too.
When he arrived home, he burst in through the kitchen door, allowing it to slam closed behind him. The lights in the kitchen were off as were the rest in the home and his chest was tightening, his heart was hammering as he moved his way into the living room, where Ginny had already risen to her feet, looking frightened but sleepy as he came to her. She had been asleep on the couch, he noted as he caught sight of the blanket trailing over the couch's edge, and for a split second he felt remorse for being so loud. "Harry, what's-" she was cut off as his lips found hers, his arms winding around her frame, holding her close to him. As he drew his lips away, he merely held onto her, breathing in her familiar scent, finding comfort in both that and the warmth of her skin against his. "Harry, what's wrong?"
This was not the first time he'd come home from a mission like this; frantic, wild, chaotic. Ginny knew that something had happened, something enough to set him over the edge. He was quiet then, releasing her to instead hold her at arms length. Then his hands were trailing down, tracing the outline of her body until they came to rest on either side of her swelling belly, his body stooping down to fall upon his knees, cheek pressed lightly against the curve of her stomach. "Nothing." His response was so soft she might have missed it had she dared to breathe. Her hands tangled themselves into his raven locks, relishing in the feeling of having his hands pressed against her growing stomach, of the feeling it gave her seeing him cradle her belly like it was their child instead. He stood up then, taking a single step back to look at her, to take in the sight of her standing before him: beautiful and safe. She was beautiful in this mid stage of her pregnancy, where her stomach had simply popped overnight one night a few weeks back. It was incredible to feel the swift movements of their child against the palm of his hand. There was nothing better than seeing her standing there before him.
He moved on to his normal nightly routine after a mission; a hot shower, leftover dinner, and bed a few hours after Ginny would have turned in. That night, he went to bed later than usual, but still felt trapped and riddled with anxiety. As he climbed into bed beside Ginny, who was breathing soft and deep as she slept, he knew just how lucky he was to have her. Anything could have happened to her. There were so many instances that had put her life into danger, so many times that she could have been robbed of her life. But there she was. Unlike the man from earlier that day, he still had the light in his life. Unable to stop himself, he rolled onto his side towards her, and slipped his arms around her. He drew her body back, pressing himself against her, hearing the soft sound of her moan in protest as he disturbed her sleep. "Sorry," he breathed into her ear, his teeth nipping softly at her earlobe. "I didn't mean to wake you." He lay his head against the pillow, his hands crossing across her stomach, her buttocks pressed tightly against his groin.
Now this, this was unlike Harry.
In these days of her being pregnant, he did not disturb her when she slept. He might have done such a thing years ago, in the days following the war, but not now. Wiggling against his hold, he loosened it, and she turned over to instead face him. His emerald eyes were stormy and full of raging winds of emotions. "Tell me." She instructed, keeping her gaze locked on his; at first he opened his mouth to protest, to tell her that nothing was wrong, but she pinned him with that skeptical brown-eyed gaze, and like always he found himself to be spilling his guts.
He told her of the fight, of how despite his best judgment, the two Muggles had been caught within the crossfire. How the young woman had been struck by a stray Killing Curse and the distraught husband had fallen to his knees as he screamed. He told her how he had watched that unfold and how he knew, without a doubt, how easily that could have been him. How he worried that one day he would be the one crying over her, because he had not been able to protect her. Ginny felt her heart breaking inside of her chest and it wasn't long before she silenced him with a kiss, her lips pressed to his, her freckled cheeks damp with tears. "Harry, stop." She murmured, cupping his cheeks with her palms, trying to offer him an encouraging sort of smile. "I'm not going anywhere. We're safe now." He nodded, like a child might have nodded when his mother told him there were no monsters under his bed. Like that child, Harry still needed reassurance that all was well and they were safe from harm. His hands came up to fall into place over hers and for a moment they remained like that, until she drew his hands down towards her stomach. "They like hearing your voice," she said softly, indicating the child had begun to move upon hearing Harry speak. He smiled then, a weary smile that began to grow as Ginny trailed his hands across her belly, following the path line of a foot and a hand that moved inside her. "I love you," she murmured softly, her hand then extending out to brush a lock of raven hair from his forehead, bringing the old lightning bolt shaped scar into view. Even after all these years, he feared losing her- feared losing this new life of his. She couldn't blame him for that, after all he'd gone through… all the losses he'd suffered… Of course he'd still yet fear for her life. Of course he'd still yet worry that something might happen. But they were safe now. They could be happy now.
Their nightmares were over.