That look in your eyes

by Bluest Witch

"She had a hard, blazing look in her face..." (HBP, p499) What if that look was kind of special? What if it marked the most significant moments in Harry and Ginny's relationship? They have been written and rewritten a million times, but if you're not too tired of reinterpretations, come and read mine. You'll have fun. :-)

2. When you gave me that look again

Chapter 2. When you gave me that look again

A/N: When I began to write, more than a year ago, I intended to do only this chapter as a one shot. But I couldn't stop, that was when I decided to expand the story into several chapters and use Ginny's look as a way to link them all.
I've read several reunions at Gryffindor Common Room, but in nearly all of them the characters got interrupted. I wanted Harry and Ginny to have a long, uninterrupted conversation. This is a Monster Chapter but I just couldn't split it in two. It answers some questions the seventh book did not answer; for instance, why the Weasleys were not taken prisoners at the wedding, after the Ministry fell. I hope you would like my explanation: it may seem crude and disturbing, but no war has ever been pleasant :-(

May 3rd, 1998

He woke up drenched in sweat, a scream frozen in his throat.

A green light. Bodies. The Great Hall, full of bodies. Lupin, Tonks, Colin, Fred… and George, Bill, Fleur, Arthur, Molly, Kingsley, McGonagall, Hermione, Ron. Neville, Dean, Seamus, Luna. And Ginny. Everybody Harry loved and cared for, dead...

He sat bolt upright, panicking, unable to shake the image of the bodies from his mind, when suddenly a loud snore from somewhere close made him to return abruptly to his senses.

The snore was Ron's. A very alive version of him, sprawled over his bed in their old bedroom at Gryffindor Tower. An equally alive Hermione was curled at his side. They were still wearing the same stained and torn clothes in which they had fought. Strangely enough, the sound of the snores calmed Harry's ragged breathing, easing him. They were not dead, Riddle was. The battle had been won.

Harry scratched his head. Hermione and Ron were now an item. That was going to take a little while to get used to. Leave it to them to pick the middle of a battle to finally get together.

He groaned inwardly and let himself fall on his back again, hoping to find some sleep again, but soon had to give up as a bad job. He was now too alert, too sore and, on top of it, he stank. First things first, he thought. A bath was in order, now that he had rested. He glanced through the window. It was night again: how much had he slept? Harry checked his battered watch. Two in the morning. Wow, I slept like the dead. No sooner had he thought that, he regretted it. Too many actual deaths had happened. He focused on the present. It was painful to think of the recent past.

Being that late, he decided to try the prefects' bathroom. He didn't fancy a midnight stroll for the deserted corridors, but it would be worth just to clean himself proper and thoroughly. Password was not going to be a trouble, he reckoned. Just as the gargoyle at the foot of the headmaster's office had let them pass, so had the Fat Lady when they had approached Gryffindor Tower earlier. Normalcy at Hogwarts had halted- nothing was like it was supposed to be.

Despite the heavy casualties sustained by the castle, the prefects' bathroom remained intact and Harry enjoyed a long, uneventful bath that eased the various aches and sores he suffered, although it did little to heal the burns and cuts he still sported. Cursing himself for not having picked up some dittany along with the clean clothes he had produced out of Hermione's bag, he decided to go back to Gryffindor Tower and get some. He did not want to disturb Madam Pomfrey, who surely would have enough on her plate treating the injured. He also had a big bruise on his chest, where the Killing Curse had hit, and breathing hurt a little, but that could wait. Maybe he should ask Mrs Wesley to have a look at it. And then he remembered her, grieving by Fred's side, and breathing was not the only painful thing.

Fred, Lupin, Colin… Tonks! She could have stayed back with Teddy, yet she chose to fight. She, like many others, had trusted him blindly, and paid with their lives for it. A lump formed in his throat, remembering them. Maybe if he had given himself earlier… but he did not know he had to do so until he saw Snape's memories in the Pensieve. Still, he knew Voldemort wanted him and only him before the battle…

Harry tried not to think about it. He forced himself to dress up, Vanish his dirty clothes -he did not want to wear them again- and return to Gryffindor Tower. Wondering if Ron would have left some sandwiches on the plate Kreacher had provided last morning, he greeted The Fat Lady, busy calming a distressed Violet, and climbed through the portrait hole. He began to walk in the direction of the stairs, only to stop in his track at the sight of an unexpected vision. The common room was no longer empty. Somebody was sitting in the armchair in front of the fireplace.

It was Ginny.

She was wearing her quidditch shirt and trousers and as she heard his footsteps, she raised her head and stared at him. Harry felt rooted to the spot, unable to do nothing but to look at her. Finally, she got up and walked towards him. For a fleeting moment, Harry was reminded of the day of their first kiss, when she had run into her arms in the middle of the celebration. But she looked sad and tired, not joyful and lively. Her skin was bruised and pale in the light of the torches, her hair hung limp, and she moved slowly, as if dragging herself, but her eyes never wavered from his. She came to a halt in front of Harry and looked at him with an unreadable expression.

He tried to say something, but failed. His heart, which seemed to have stopped briefly and restarted galloping frenetically, was now also swelling with emotion thus rendering him incapable of speech. All he could manage was a soft "Hi Gin" and a tentative smile.

Next thing he knew, Ginny was punching him in the arm.

"DO NOT DARE GIN ME! YOU PRAT! HI? THAT'S ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY?"

Ok, this definitely doesn't look like that day, thought a bewildered Harry, who could only stutter words.

"I. I'm…"

YOU THINK YOU CAN COME HERE AND HAVE ME WRAPPED IN COTTON LIKE A UNICORN HORN, STORED AWAY SAFELY IN THE ROOM OF REQUIREMENT?"

"I didn't…" he protested, but Ginny did not relent.

"I wanted to fight! I CAN fight as well as anyone! I understood you had to go away and save the world but you made me sit and wait!"

"What? No, that was your mother…" He tried to get a word in between, but this only incensed her more.

"I know it was my mother! But YOU did not side with me! And then you went looking for Voldemort alone and let us believe you were dead! Can you barely imagine how it was for us, seeing your body in Hagrid's arms? Did you stop to consider what you were putting us through?," she yelled. "NO! Harry James Potter, you're such an HYPOCRITE!" She jabbed her finger hard into the ribs, punctuating her words.

Unfortunately, her fingers connected with the ironclad punch bruise caused by the Killing Curse and a wave of intense pain overcame Harry, who staggered and clutched his chest. His vision blurred and he sought a chair for support.

"Harry? Harry, are you hurt?" He heard her voice, which now sounded concerned.

"I'm fine… just a little bruised, it's nothing…"

Ginny scowled at him. "Fine, my arse. Let me see that. I can help with minor healing."

"Nah, don't bother. I was on my way to get some dittany. It's all right. Nothing I can't handle." The pain had subsided just a little, but Harry did not want to worry her.

"Don't play the hero card with me," she insisted. "Whatever you have, it doesn't look all right. Madam Pomfrey is busy, the hospital wing is full. You obviously need someone to check you and I'm not going to wake my mother or Hermione to do it. So take that shirt off."

Harry nearly recoiled at Ginny's impersonation of Mrs Wesley's glare, but did not surrender. No way he was letting her see him half naked, bruised and thin. Over his dead body. Not the best metaphor, he thought. Already been dead a little too much.

"Thanks, but I think I'll wait."

But Ginny was having none of it. She pulled out her wand and pointed it to Harry.

"Listen, Potter. Either you take off that shirt, or I'll Vanish it. Your choice."

Harry's jaw dropped. "You wouldn't."

Ginny smirked. "Do you think I haven't seen any naked boys before? Well, for your information, not only am I the youngest in a house full of brothers, but you're not the first I have to patch up against his will. Ask Neville or Seamus. So," she said, glowering, "are you going to make things easy or not?"

Harry swallowed and put up a desperate line of defence: being honest. "I- I don't want you to see me… I'm not… I don't want you to- to…"

Ginny softened her features. "Listen, Harry, I've seen enough injuries that took a turn for the worse after leaving unattended. You are not going anywhere until you let me check those ribs. And if this is all about your stupid pride, save yourself the embarrassment. You are no knight in shining armour, nor am I any distressed lady. Be sensible and let me heal you. I'm going to do it regardless of you willing or not."

"How do you figure that?", asked a puzzled Harry.

"Disarming, Stupefying, Vanishing, treating, and then Rennervating. Maybe I won't even need to Disarm you, I'm counting on you being noble. But I'd very much prefer not to. It's best to examine wounds with a conscious patient. So you can tell where it hurts and all that. Not to mention the fact that I'm not sure I would be able to Conjure the same shirt, so if you're fond of it, do not risk it."

Harry did not care about the shirt, but he realized that she had the upper hand in the matter, for he truly did not think he could raise his wand against her. Giving up, he nodded and took off his shirt. Conscious of his dreadful state, he tried to hide hugging himself, but Ginny prevented it, stopping him.

"Stay still for me, I have to get a look at this. Goodness, Harry, you're a mess," she said, taking into account the many cuts, burns, old and new scars and the big bruise scattered across his chest and arms.

"Yeah, well, last months have been a bit rough…", he said, looking to a faraway point in order to hide the blush in his face.

"Understatement of the year. Do you have trouble with deep breaths? I think one or two ribs may be cracked." She gently felt the bones with her fingers, searching for fractures.

Goosebumps that had nothing to do with the cold air erupted in his skin, until he winced in pain when she found a sore spot. Nodding to herself, Ginny drew her wand and waved it in a complicated motion over the bruise. Harry felt sudden warmth followed by a pleasant coolness and recognized the signs of healing bones. Madam Pomfrey had mended him so many times in the past that it was an unforgettable sensation. As was the taste of the Skele-Gro she usually gave him after, to ensure a correct wielding. At least this time I'm not going to get a dose of that foul stuff, he thought.

"You should have some Skele-Gro, you know, for good measure."

So much for hoping.

"Er, no, I don't want to go to the hospital wing…" But Ginny was not paying attention to him. She got up and turned slowly on the spot, looking for something.

"I'm sure it's still somewhere… there it is!" She pointed her wand towards a small stool by the fireplace and wordlessly Summoned it, then proceeded to Transfigure it into a wooden chest. She opened it, revealing a collection of vials, bottles, gauze, bandages and several books. Harry recognized The Healer's Helpmate among them.

"How did you know that was there?", asked a surprised Harry.

"We've kept it here since October. The Carrows limited medical assistance to common illness and injuries not related to detentions. And we couldn't go to the hospital wing if we got back from a DA stroll in not so perfect conditions… you know what I mean," said Ginny, glancing up from the potions. "So we had to find a way to keep out of their reach some basic supplies but at the same time, they had to be in a handy place. Madam Pomfrey was furious because she wasn't allowed to treat us, so she came up with this. She gave out disguised chests to members of the DA, to be placed in common rooms, dormitories and the Room of Requirement. She also smuggled us refills if we used them up. I don't know how we could've survived without this", told Ginny, now applying liberal amounts of Burns&Boils Brew to his scorched shoulder. Harry hissed as the skin stung.

"Don't worry, it won't scar. You don't want to have more, do you?", she said, bandaging the shoulder.

"Definitely not. You're doing a good work. I didn't know you knew how to do all this stuff."

Her face saddened. "I didn't. Last months have been a bit rough round here, too", she said sarcastically. "At home, I used to watch my mother treating our injuries. With seven of us, there was always one or two of us queuing for patching up. So I had a basic knowledge, and this year I've had a lot of practice. And we had extra motivation to learn how to defend ourselves and do non-verbal stuff. Hogwarts wasn't safe anymore." Her voice had a sad note.

"I know. Neville told me something. And we overheard people talking about you three, trying to steal the sword. How was the detention with Hagrid? I wonder… was it hard or was Snape pretending to be so in front of the Carrows?" , said Harry. "It turned out he was on our side all the time, after all."

Ginny stopped, looking immersed in thought. "You know, we wondered, too. When he caught us red handed, he went ballistic, but he didn't let the Carrows had their way. If they had, I shudder to think how we could have come off what they had in mind. I'm thinking now, maybe Snape put on a good show. He boasted about the many dangers the Forest posed… but of course, actually Hagrid didn't leave us alone. It wasn't a picnic, though. The Carrows kept watch inside Hagrid's hut to make sure we spent the whole bloody night in the Forest. We were on edge all the time, and it was a full moon night. Luckily, nothing happened but a few false alarms. Still, we kept a low profile for a while afterwards. Didn't like to come back."

She had finished dabbing potion on his arms, and was searching again into the chest. Harry did not like the silence. He wanted to know all about the months they had spent apart. "But you didn't give up, did you? Neville told me you reformed the DA. I'm sickened to think you were in danger…" Ginny turned and scowled to him. Harry could tell she was about to snap, so he swallowed and kept on, "and also proud. Very proud of you. You lot are the bravest."

She blushed, but then shook her head, like she was trying to get rid of the embarrassment.

"It wasn't only me," she dismissed. "Luna was the first to say we had to do something, on the first day of lessons. We'd had our first Muggle Studies lesson, it was nauseating, to put it mildly. Neville joined us in the courtyard where we were spending a free hour. He filled us with news from his first DADA class. He was outraged, Carrow had been prattling about how the society needed the Unforgivables in order to maintain 'peace and natural structure of the wizarding society', and then he used a Stinging Hex to punish a girl who had failed to pay attention. We began to plot resistance that very same day." Ginny sighed. "Little we knew a Stinging Hex was going to be the least of our troubles…" She looked down, barely whispering the words.

Harry felt revolted. What had she had to endure? He needed to know. Ginny had produced the Skele-Gro and a measuring cup out of the chest and was busy pouring a dose.

"I was worried about you."

Ginny glanced at him, but chose to disregard his comment. She thrusted the dose of potion into his hand. "Drink it. Mum will have my head if those ribs aren't properly healed."

He took the cup and swallowed the liquid, grimacing. "This is awful. All those brainiacs at St. Mungo's, you bet they could've come up with something that doesn't taste like rotten fungus."

Ginny smirked. "As if you know the flavour of rotten fungus." She was unscrewing a tube of paste that Harry recognized as the same one the twins gave Hermione on the summer before their six year, and was not meeting his eye.

He snickered. "I do. Part of the diet, out there on the run. No matter how much did we Transfigure or cooked them, there was always a distinct rotten flavour. Same as this potion, actually," he said in what he pretended to be a light tone.

Ginny raised her head and gaped at him. "What on Merlin's pants' name have you been doing these months?"

"I thought we were talking about what you were doing."

"Not anymore. Your turn, Potter," she said sternly.

Harry sighed. He owed her an explanation, he knew that. He would have preferred to keep talking about what had happened to her in the time spent apart, but Ginny still looked cross and trying to steer the conversation back at her would do no good.

"Could I have my shirt back first? It's cold, and this is going to take a while."

"Oh, sure, sorry. Just rub some paste in that bruise-" she pointed to the one left by the Killing Curse, "but be careful not to touch that cut just over it. It hasn't healed with the dittany, so it will scar. Must be some curse you took. Any idea which one?" She handed him the tube, but did not offer to spread it for him.

"Yeah, but that comes at the end of the story," he said bitterly, spreading paste over the ribs.

Ginny gave him a quizzical look. "All right… now shoot, Potter."

Harry nodded, but took his time putting the shirt back on, wondering how to begin.

"Do you remember the meetings I had with Dumbledore on my sixth year?"

"Yeah, I delivered one of his messages to you, didn't I?"

True, Harry thought; it happened on the morning of a pretty eventful day.

"He told me that he had found out Voldemort was using Horcrux as lifesavers. They're objects used as a store of soul parts, ripped off by committing murder. As long as those parts existed elsewhere, he couldn't die, so prior to attacking him we had to make sure to destroy those things first. And he had seven of them."

Ginny was staring at him with wide-open eyes. "Seven? Is… is that even possible?"

Harry nodded. "That's why he looked less and less human. Horcruxes can be anything, but Dumbledore narrowed the search to objects with a special significance, either they had belonged to the four Hogwarts founders, or were specially related to him, for instance Nagini the snake, and…"

Ginny gasped and paled. "Riddle's diary."

Harry nodded. "Yes. It was because of the diary attacking you that Dumbledore could figure out the whole story. It wasn't a simple memory, Ginny. It was a part of Riddle's soul."

This revelation was met with a silence. Ginny looked petrified and white as a sheet. Suddenly, she stood up retching and before Harry could figure what to do, she was violently sick. He jumped to her side and held her. She was shaking, so he conjured a towel for her, vanished the puddle and looked around for water. He spotted the sandwiches and pumpkin juice Kreacher had brought on a table by the sofa in front of the fireplace, so he steered Ginny towards it, made her sit and poured her a goblet of juice. She did not take it: her hands were still trembling.

Harry sat down at her side. "I'm sorry, Gin." Sorry did not even begin to cover the extent of his feelings, but he did not know what else to say.

Ginny took a deep breath and steadied herself. "Why should you be sorry? You didn't make that damned thing. If anything, I should be the sorry one. The girl stupid enough to let herself be possessed."

"You couldn't help it. Riddle was a consummated manipulator since young age, and you were eleven! You tried to fight it, throwing it away, don't you remember? Quirrell was a fully qualified wizard and he willingly let him took over his head! Anyway, if it weren't for you, Dumbledore wouldn't have discovered the existence of Horcruxes, and the way to finish him off."

Ginny still seemed shaken, yet she looked Harry in the eyes. "He's gone, is he? Really gone?"

"For good."

"I want to know the whole story. Please, spare me nothing. I need to know." There was something desperate in her plea.

Harry sighed. "It's a long story, and some parts are not mine to tell."

"Then you'd better start."

And so he did. He told her about the ring and the diary, the ones destroyed by the time Dumbledore and him went out to find the locket. How it turned out to be false, how they discovered that Regulus Black had swapped the lockets and trusted Kreacher with the real one. He told her about the prophecy. The stories of the Horcrux hunt led to the ones of the Hallows quest, and Harry was telling her about Godric's Hollow when Ginny interrupted.

"Hang on, you and Hermione? Whatever happened to Ron?"

Harry bit his tongue. Bloody hell, I shouldn't have said that. Shit, now I've done a Hagrid.

"Yeah, well… remember me saying there were parts that weren't mine to tell? You should ask Ron and Hermione about that."

"I hope my prat of a brother didn't walk out on you," said Ginny, a shrewd look in her face.

Harry shrugged. "Whatever Ron may or may not have done, I owe him my life, Gin. He's my best mate, always has been. He doesn't deserve to be called a prat."

Ginny smirked. "I'll take your word for it. I saw him holding hands with Hermione. If he was able to find his bollocks and go for her, I reckon he's earned some respect… why are you laughing?", she said, as Harry began to scoff.

"That wasn't him! He messed up things so bad with her, at one point of these last months she wouldn't speak to him! Your brother had to work hard to get himself on her good books. Eventually, last night he said we should make sure the house elves were safe and that was it for Hermione. She was the one who kissed first! You missed it by seconds, it happened right after we asked you to leave the Room of Requirement. They glued together so fiercely, I had to yell at them to get their attention back to the matter in hands!" Harry was now positively rolling with laughter.

Ginny was, too. "Aww, and I would have supposed nothing could give more opportunities to romance than hiding away in a tent…"

"Told you, it was nothing like that." Harry felt the fun slipping away. "I suppose camping can be romantic, that's it, if your face is not postered as Undesirable no.1, the food is better than barely edible fish and you're alone with your girl, not feeling like the third wheel."

He took off his glasses and cleaned them with the shirt, for something to do. When he put them back on and dared to glance at her, Ginny was staring at him unwaveringly.

"I take it that the dating opportunities were indeed scarce? Did you meet any Veelas?" She said. "While you three were out there, looking out for Voldemort bits?"

"Well, we spent the last weeks at Shell Cottage. So, if you count Fleur..."

Ginny smiled. "No, it doesn't count."

"Well, then, the answer's no."

Her smile went slightly wider, but she did not elaborate. Harry felt the old sensation of something hopeful inside him taking form. Before he could figure something else to say, though, Ginny spoke. "How did you lot end up at Bill and Fleur's? I thought you knew how to hide yourselves, what with Hermione doing the spells and all that."

Harry exhaled, relieved to have the awkward silence broken. "That was a stupid mistake. I said 'Voldemort' and activated the Taboo. One moment we were alone, the next Snatchers surrounded the tent with wands pointing at us. We were captured and taken to Malfoy Manor..."

Ginny froze. "Oh my God. Bill wouldn't tell us where you came from. How did you manage to escape?"

Harry resumed the story of the whole ordeal, and how he had figured where the next Horcrux was, which led to the explanation of the Gringotts' breaking. Ginny was an avid listener. Sometimes she nodded or gasped, but mainly she offered a silent encouraging for Harry to keep talking. He found it was more and more easier to open to her, until he reached one point of the story.

Snape's memories.

He hesitated, and Ginny sensed it. "What did you see in the Pensieve, Harry?"

"Snape… he was on our side, he hated my father, but he had loved my mother since they were children, that's why he became a double agent. And that's the ironclad reason Dumbledore had to trust him. He also asked Snape to finish him off, he was already dying from the curse the ring carried. And Snape was to deliver to me the final piece of the Horcrux hunt. The last one…"

He couldn't talk. He broke out in a cold sweat and his heart raced. Harry closed his eyes and tried to stead his breathing, but it was no use. He may as well be back on the floor of the headmaster's office having just seen Snape's memories for all the good it did.

And then two smaller, warmer hands took his, and Harry opened his eyes. Ginny was looking at him with the same hard, blazing stare that meant she was determined to be supportive of him, because she could understand him perfectly. In fact, Harry thought, she was the one more suited to do so, because she, too, had been attacked by another of Riddle's Horcruxes.

"I was the last one, Gin."

Ginny did not answer; she only gripped his hands harder. Harry felt her warmth creeping up his arms, giving him the resolve to keep talking. "That's why I had to go to the Forest… so he could kill me, thus destroying the Horcrux inside me. The injury on my chest… It's where I took his Avada Kedavra. But there was a flaw in his plan. Voldemort had taken my blood to create his body and that kept alive my mother's sacrifice, binding me to life. Dumbledore had guessed it could work, and it did. I died… or not, I don't know. I had a choice to come back or go on… and chose to return." He paused for a bit, trying to steady his breath.

"I didn't stop to say goodbye because I knew that if I did, I wouldn't be able to leave. I saw you in the grounds, you were talking to a wounded girl. I very nearly revealed myself hoping you would stop me..."

"It was you?", asked Ginny, surprised. "I thought I sensed you rushing past me, but I believed the exhaustion was playing tricks with my mind. But… it really was you. I…". She blushed, and did not elaborate.

He nodded. "I'm sorry, Gin, I hate that you had to believe me dead, but I couldn't stay behind, I… Fred and Remus and Tonks were already gone, and it was my fault they were; if I had given myself sooner, they could be alive!" Harry was now frantic, as if a gate had been opened and he could not stop the flood of words. "I had to go, so I wouldn't put anyone else in danger. I didn't want anybody dying for me, enough people had given their lives for me, and it was my fault! I'm sorry, Gin, I'm so sorry…!"

And with that he came undone, crying his grief away, so overcome that at first, he did not notice the arms that were pulling him on a tight hug. He hold onto Ginny as if she were a lifeline, weeping until he felt his throat raw and no more tears flowed, but still they kept close, leaning one against the other, for what could have been minutes or hours.

Eventually, Ginny broke the silence. "You know no one blames you, right?"

He sighed, leant back and glanced at her. Her face was blotched, her eyes red rimmed, but her expression was firm and calm. She still was the most beautiful girl in the world.

"But I can't help blaming myself, Gin."

She smirked. "I expected as much. Wouldn't be you if you didn't. Always carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders and all that. But listen to me, Potter: I forbid you to drown in guilt. It'd drive you mad. Do you remember the days after the Chamber, in my first year?"

Harry tried to recall. Images of a eleven-year-old Ginny flooded his mind. The contrast between the sobbing girl at Dumbledore's office and the cheerful one on the train back home stood out. "Yeah… You looked happy."

"Bollocks. I put on a good show, but the guilt was eating me alive. I just didn't want my family worrying over me. Then Colin came to see me, after he was Depetrified. Said that he did not blame me so nor should I, and that he was still my friend. Penelope and Hermione made also that point clear. Their forgiveness gave me some peace of mind, but I still felt ashamed of what I did. All these years I've worked on being a tougher and braver person, because I regarded myself as a weak and despicable one, if a simple memory kept in a diary could manipulate me."

Harry managed a sad smile. "But you're not that. You are an exceptional witch, Weasley."

Ginny grinned. "Is this your way to get yourself on my good books, Potter? Flattery, really?", she tutted. "Anyway, what I am trying to tell you is, knowing it was a Horcrux, I think that is the closure I needed. It wasn't a memory, it was a bloody, wretched, damned piece of bloody Riddle." She had to be really mad, for she was using language that Mrs Weasley would definitely have not approved, should she happen to hear it.

"For years I've been telling myself that Riddle is the only one responsible, not me," pressed Ginny. "And now I definitely know. And that is all I am going to say to you: Voldemort was the only responsible of the war, and the deaths, and tortures. Him and the ones foolish or evil enough to believe his crap. Even if you did not exist, or had not been the Chosen One, we would have fought, because we are not the kind of people who tolerate bigotry, oppression and censorship. Lives would've been lost with or without you. I hate to unveil this for you, Potter, but you're not the centre of the universe." She completed her affirmation with a gentle nudge.

Harry snorted. "As if I'd like to be."

"I know you wouldn't. You're quite selfless. Bit prone to feel like you should save everybody's day, though. That's a virtue as much as a sin. You're not going to forgive yourself easily, are you?"

Harry knew she was right, but found that said knowledge lead to little relief. "I still feel like crap."

"I know. It's not going to happen overnight. But give yourself time, you'll find it easier."

He nodded, his fingers picking idly at a bandage in his forearm. Ginny swatted his hand away. "Hey, be careful with those. I don't like anybody ruining my work."

"Oh, sorry. You've done it amazingly," said Harry, and then paused for a moment. He could no longer ignore the nagging worry about her role in the reformed DA. "It takes a lot of practice to get this OK…"

Ginny shrugged, looking sideways.. "It's not that difficult."

"Gin, please. How bad was it?", he asked. "I… I need to know, too."

"Why? It's over, and as we already established, it wasn't your fault."

Harry did not know what made him blurt out the truth. "Because I care about you."

The blatant admission surprised Ginny for a moment, but she recovered quickly. "You don't want to know."

"I really do," he insisted. "I suppose, seeing as you're avoiding it, it's something painful and dark. I- you… ," he felt frustrated, he failed to find words to explain himself. "Merlin, I suck at this, but look, I'm really concerned about you, and maybe you could feel some relief if you let it out. Like… like the way you've just been listening to me. I want to do that for you, too." And he felt his face hot from blushing.

Ginny stared fixedly at him for a long time, and then nodded. She retreated back into the sofa, and hugged herself.

"The Carrows began with Stinging Hexes… but soon, the punishments escalated. They made us practice curses against fellow students. If you refused, they gave you detentions. And no more writing lines or cauldron scrubbing at them. They were creative: one day they denied food to first years caught pranking others with Canary Creams, another a Hufflepuff was sleep deprived over two days just because he fell asleep in class. And well, I don't know… what did Neville tell you?"

"He said… that some students were on it."

Ginny sniggered. "Oh, yes, some loved it." Her voice had a bitter tone. "And some thought that they could take… advantage of the situation."

Harry felt his insides twisting. "What do you mean?"

Ginny hugged herself tighter, her eyes shut. "Do you really want to know?"

"I do." Not knowing is killing me, he thought.

Ginny was silent for the longest pause until now, and just when Harry was going to insist, she spoke. "There were some… that tried to intimidate us… sexually. At first it was only verbal abuse. Catcalls, jeering, that sort of thing. Nothing a Silencio or a Bat Bogey could teach them better. Then one day, a fourth year girl reported to the Carrows -they appointed themselves on charge of discipline, above the Heads of Houses- that a boy had trapped her in a broom closet and tried to abuse her. She resisted and hexed the boy before he could do something. The Carrows didn't believe her, citing among other nasty things, that a pureblood boy would never touch a half-blood with a Muggle father like her. And that sort of… left the field open, you know?"

Harry felt chills up his back that had nothing to do with the coolness of the room. "Are you saying what I think you are saying? Were you abused?"

"There were others who tried to take advantage of the climate of impunity. Groping, touching, vanishing clothes of unaware victims… I don't think anybody was actually raped, if that's what you mean. At least, not that I know of. But … someone tried… ," Ginny did not elaborate. She was sitting as far from him as the sofa would let her. Her hands were clenched, and she had her eyes tightly closed.

Harry closed the space between them, and took her hands into his. He reckoned he should offer the same support she had had before for him, hoping it would be all right for Ginny. He did not know if she would like or not, and felt relieved when she did not reject him.

"People began to protect themselves. The story spread quickly, and soon we looked one after another in the corridors, between classes, in the free periods. We discussed and taught defensive spells in the bathrooms and dormitories, kept us updated on who might pose danger, all very quick and subtle so as to not raise suspect. Some decent guys caught up on what was happening and helped. They used to accompany us in the corridors, making it casual, eavesdrop on boys' conversations at the bathrooms, that sort of things." Ginny paused after this, and refused to look at him, though she did not release Harry's hands.

"And then, the day before going home on Easter break, something happened to me," she said whispering.

Like Ginny before, Harry just kept the hold on her hands, waiting for her to talk. Somehow, he sensed that she would not appreciate being pushed into revealing whatever was tormenting her. This was all very new to him, but he hoped to be doing it ok. He also needed the time to brace himself for whatever she was going to say. His heart beat so fast, it could have galloped out of his chest.

Finally, Ginny let out a big sigh, and spoke. "We were at Potions, last class of the day. Slughorn made me stay a bit longer because he wanted to discuss my last essay. We went up to the Entrance Hall together but then I left him to go to the library before dinner. There were a lot of people in the corridors, so I was relaxed, my mind set on the damned essay. Oh, Moody was so right insisting on constant vigilance!", she reminisced.

"I definitely know I went into the library, towards that section of rare potion books almost nobody visits. Next thing I knew, or more accurately, suspected it wasn't right, I was inside an unused classroom of the fifth floor, taking my clothes off. I didn't want to, but a voice in my head was ordering me to do it. I felt transported back to the Chamber, when Riddle nearly killed me while I was begging him not to. I was so terrified that I fought against it with all my will, and lifted the Imperius. It was… like waking up in the middle of a nightmare," said Ginny. She wasn't crying, but her voice was heavy with emotion, as if fighting a lump in her throat.

"What did you do?", asked Harry. "Did you get hurt?" He could not have released Ginny's hands for the life of him.

"Luckily, somehow I managed not to panic, and kept my focus. He had taken my wand, so I pretended to follow his instructions a little bit more. I played along so I could get close to him unsuspectingly, and then…

Harry admired her nerve. He gripped her hands so hard that Ginny yelped.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't realize I was hurting you," he said, letting go." "Please do continue."

Ginny took a deep breath. "And then I kneed him hard in the balls."

Harry could not help grinning. "Well done!" That's my girl, he added to himself. "Who was the attacker? Did you know him?"

Ginny nodded. "A Slytherin from your year. Blaise Zabini. He… I took my wand and Summoned his while he was moaning on the floor. I put my clothes back on and then, just when I was about to leave, he insulted me… and that was the worst," said Ginny. She fisted her hands so tightly that her knuckles went white.

"Why? What did that bastard say? Go on."

"He said that after being Potter's whore, I should be grateful someone wanted to shag me… that was as bad as being attacked," she said, visibly upset.

Harry felt enraged. It was a good thing all the Slytherin students had been evacuated of the castle, for he thought that nothing could have prevented him from going after Zabini. As it was, he was having a hard time trying to control his feelings. "That wanker!," he cursed.

Following this imprecation, Ginny grinned like a Cheshire Cat. The change was so abrupt, Harry wondered if exhaustion was playing tricks with his brain.

"What makes you so happy?", he asked.

"Because wanker might not be exactly the most fitting insult to describe him right now." And without further explanation, she began to roll with laughter.

That left Harry even more puzzled. "Care to explain?"

"I hexed him before leaving. A variation of the Bat Bogey. It was untested, so heavens know how it turned off," said Ginny, still laughing. "I wished him good luck finding out. It most certainly should have made him refrain from attacking anyone else."

""Why are you so sure?"

"He might be finding a certain… male body secretion being transfigured into something different. I hope it wouldn't be exactly pleasant. I named it the Slug Sperm Hex," she said.

"Slug Sp… Wait. Merlin! You didn't!" Harry barked with laughter.

"Hence the inaccuracy of wanker," said a smug Ginny.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, you sure are a wicked witch." And I love you for that.

"Thank you," she said, wiping tears of laughter. "God, this feels so good. Laughing like that."

"Yeah… we haven't had many reasons to laugh lately." A sudden thought sobered him. "And I'm guessing the next days are going to be pretty bad, too…"

Ginny sighed. Her face was sad again. "Yeah. What is going to happen now?"

"Haven't got the faintest. I planned nothing beyond the war." I didn't know if I would survive, he thought.

Silence fell between them, but this time was a companionable one. Finally, Ginny broke it. "I just want to go home," she said. She furrowed her brows in thought. "I don't know if we can go back right now, though. We had to leave in a hurry on Easter. Merlin knows if Death Eaters searched it after we sought refuge at Muriel's. Maybe it's not even still standing."

"I want to go home, too," said Harry. "But I don't know where is that… The Dursley's, definitely not. Hogwarts was the first place I felt at home, and now… it just doesn't feel right, you know?" Harry rubbed his eyes. Despite having slept, he was feeling exhausted again.

"Harry, you know you can always come with us. And you have Grimmauld Place! It's not the best of places, but it could do."

Harry shook his head. "I asked Kreacher yesterday about it. Apparently Death Eaters did extensive damage to the house after we broke into the Ministry. It's going to need a lot of curse breaking and renovations before anyone can set a foot in. That's why he came to live here."

"Oh, well, you never liked that house. Maybe a new place would be better," said Ginny.

"Yeah… I'm of age, I can have my own place. I don't need much space, could be something small. Or, maybe I could have a spare bedroom, so I could have friends over." Harry began to feel animated. "Or Teddy!"

He had forgotten that he was now a godfather. "Did you know that he is my godson?"

Ginny chuckled. "Yeah, I was present at his birth. Mrs Tonks asked my mother to help her, she's not a midwife, but I suppose giving birth six times count for something. I went with her and learned one or two things that night," she grimaced. She clearly did not want to delve into the subject. "Babies are a lot of work. Andromeda will need all our help."

"I won't leave them on their own," said Harry fiercely. "Remus and Tonks are gone and they trusted me to look after their son. I… I don't want to be like Sirius, he couldn't raise me and I met him too late. I will do whatever it takes to be there when he needs me. And I have gold, I can provide everything he needs." That boy is not going to wear hand-me-downs, if I can help it, he thought.

And then, he remembered something that made him feel like a bucket of ice had dropped in his stomach.

"What's happening, Harry? You're pale as a ghost," said Ginny. She had noticed the sudden mood change.

"My gold… Gringotts… the goblins!," he stuttered. "Merlin, we broke into the bank and the goblins were mad at us! I don't think they're going to let me into my vault! What am I going to do?"

"I… I don't know, Harry, but don't worry, you are kind of a hero in the Wizarding world right now, surely they won't be angry any longer. I mean, you were forced to do it so Voldemort could be defeated, weren't you?"

But Harry was only half listening. Proud, rebellious creatures like the goblins did not strike him as forgiving. "But what if not? I will have to find a job… and I'm not qualified to do any! Haven't got any NEWTs, who's going to employ me?" Panic was rising quickly inside him.

"We'll think of something, don't fret…"

"How can I not worry? Gin, I have a huge responsibility now!"

"Yeah, because you've lived so carefree until now, no pressures at all, huh?," snickered Ginny. "You deserve a break!"

"A break? Where? I have no place to go!" He was positively yelling by now.

"We'll figure some-"

"No money, unqualified!"

"Will you calm-"

"I CAN'T! I- I'm useless, and everything I had is gone!" He was pulling at his hair in desperation.

"That's ridiculous…"

"What am I going to do? I-"

"Will you shut up? Oh, to hell with it!"

And Ginny kissed him hard on the mouth.

A lightning bolt could have struck him and he would not have felt more stunned. Taken by surprise, the kiss effectively shut Harry up. It took him some time to react, and by then, Ginny had straddled him and turned the kiss into a proper snog. His brain registered the shock and the wondering for a moment, before throwing everything aside and concentrating only on her, on the taste of her mouth, on the feeling of her body pressed against him and her hands in his hair, on how much he had missed all this- he had missed her. He put his hands in her waist, and Ginny chose this moment to stop. Panting, she looked at him, their foreheads touching.

"Will you now listen to me?," she said, breathlessly. She let go of his head and leaned back, but stayed on his lap and took his hands on hers. Harry was simply speechless, so he only nodded.

"Good. First of all, you're not alone, nor are you useless. For heavens' sake, you are barely of age and you just took down the darkest wizard our time has seen! That might count for something! Secondly, Teddy is a baby! Gold is just something that glints and catches his eye. He only cares about food, naps and cuddles, and I bet you are more than capable of taking care of that. And lastly, Merlin, Harry, please give yourself a rest! You don't have to do everything right now! We are going home, wherever the hell that'll be, and we are going to bury the dead, and then we… we'll figure something, ok? But you're not alone to do so. You have me, and a lot of friends." She said all this very quickly, her face flushed.

Only a fraction of Harry's brain acknowledged the fact that she was every bit right. All he could think was that she wanted him, despite being angry with him before. The tiny bubble of hope expanded and filled his chest. A lone fact stood up; "You kissed me," he said.

"That I did," she deadpanned.

"Do you… do you want to be with me? After… after everything I've done to you?"

A smile flickered in her face. "Of course I want to, you great fool. I don't typically kiss boys to shut them up, I hex them for that. Not that I have ruled it out with you. If you annoy me again, I might do it," she said, offhandedly.

Harry could not believe his luck. "But you were mad with me earlier. And I ditched you, last year. I- I will understand if you've moved on, or… or found someone else." He fervently hoped that was not the case.

Ginny sighed. "I have to say, that plan of you, breaking up with me… it did work. At Bill and Fleur's wedding, Death Eaters interrogated us. They knew we had been going out together, I reckon Malfoy told them. So I said that you had left me with no explanation, and I implied that you… that you did so after taking advantage of me. To say that my family was shocked would be understatement. Of course it wasn't true and they knew it, but they supported the lie because it explained why, after years of spending summers under our roof, you weren't there and we suddenly seemed to hate you. I have to say, Fred and George rose to the occasion magnificently," she said, grinning. "They informed every soul present what they were going to do to your bits, should they found themselves within reaching distance of them, so convincingly that Death Eaters left the Burrow under the impression that Voldemort would have to wait in line after them to kill you."

She laughed, but soon her face was serious again, and hesitated briefly before speaking. "I let the rumours spread when I returned to Hogwarts. I didn't mind them much as long as they kept me safer. All my friends knew it was all a lie but were smart enough to play along. But no, Harry, I did not move on. And what Zabini said… well, that really hurt me. I am not a whore. I am here with you, because I want to."

Her eyes filled with tears, but she didn't succumb to them. Harry marvelled at her strength, her daring and her toughness.

"I am the luckiest guy in the world," and he hold her tightly in his arms, drowning in her flowery scent, kissing her hair… "I've missed you so much."

"Me too," she said simply.

They held each other for a long while. Nobody interrupted them. Outside, the sky was beginning to clear; dawn was approaching. Eventually Ginny let go of him, swiping tears from her eyes. She met his gaze and spoke. "Just… please never try to get killed again. When I saw you in the arms of Hagrid…

"I will."

"Try your hardest, because I know you, Potter. You are not the type who agrees to be left behind and let the rest of the people do the job. And that's fine by me, as soon as you don't willingly go looking for trouble."

Harry snorted. "I've said it a million times: I don't go looking for trouble…"

"Trouble usually finds you, yeah, I know," she said. "And I want you to remember that I am not the type who steps back, either. Never leave me behind. I can take care of myself." Her tone was fierce.

Harry was dazed. "Ginny, you lied to Death Eaters and got away with it; you fought an Imperius, lifted it and incapacitated your attacker; you led Dumbledore's Army, defied your professors and just yesterday, you took active part in a battle, duelling against Bellatrix Lestrange, no less! If there's something crystal clear for me is that you need nobody to defend yourself. If anything, I should be scared of you," he chuckled. "You are also the daughter of the woman who finished off Bellatrix! Nobody will dare to mess with you!"

Ginny grinned. "Good to know". She kissed him softly in the lips and cuddled with him. Harry felt a feeling of calm and peace swiftly taking up him. He closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair. It smelled of the flowery scent he loved, and reminded him of good moments from the past, of sunshine days by the lake. He could…

"I could stay like this forever," she said, reading his mind.

Harry recalled something. "Aunt Petunia had a framed sentence in the hall. 'Home is where the heart is'. I used to hate it, because Privet Drive never was my home, and they were heartless with me. But now I'm here with you and I can understand it. You have my heart…"

Ginny stroked his hair. "Welcome home, Harry."