CHAPTER TWO A WORLD WORTH SAVING?

How can you see into my eyes

Like open doors?

Leading you down into my core,

Where I've become so numb.

Without a soul,

My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold,

Until you find it there and lead it back

Home.

As Harry walked home from the hospital, he took in the sights and sounds that meant he was nearly there. He passed unnoticed through street corners covered in ill-looking prostitutes and drug addicts. He kept his head down and his jacket pulled close around him as he walked briskly along a very selective path. He marveled in how unhappy everyone looked. Didn't they know that everything was better now? Didn't Voldemorts' defeat mean that everyone would be safe and happy? Or had all of Harry's dreams been just that. Dreams. Hopes for a better world that would never have come true. It was street corners like this, with the pregnant fourteen year old girl who's face was covered in Herpes and who reeked of urine that Harry wondered if it had really been worth losing his loved ones and risking his life to save this world.

Harry walked through the filthy streets until he reached the street where Grimmauld place was located. He still couldn't quite say that he was returning home, as it had never felt like a place of sanctuary. He had inherited the house from Sirius when he was still only sixteen, but he had not moved in until he had no other place to go to. When they weren't traveling with the Order or looking for Voldemort, they had always been at the Burrow, which, besides Hogwarts, had been Harry's only true home. Now after the final battles, even if the Burrow still stood, it would only be a house of heartache.

He approched the hidden doorframe of number 12 and stood for a second starring at the doorknob, wondering just what waited for him on the other side. Taking a deep sigh, he opened the door to a scream of delight and a flash of red. Before he could even get the door closed he had his fiance wrapped tightly around his waist and kissing the base of his neck softly. He looked down into her dazzling eyes and saw true love and devotion shining back.

"So...how did it go?" Ginny cooed quietly into his ear. "Did you find something to make you happy? I mean, something that you would enjoy?"

"I got a job at St. Mungo's. I don't know if I'll like it, but it will bring bread to the table. At least I can feel like I'm contributing to this wedding finally."

"Baby, I told you that I didn't need anything big. Just you. That's all I'll ever need. Just you."

Not finding the right words to say, Harry kissed her forehead softly before smiling weakly and turning to walk up the staircase to their room.

Harry hoped that this time, just this once, he would be able to walk straight to the bedroom without stopping outside that door. But he had not been lucky before and lady luck would fail him now. He stopped where the carpet had been worn thin from days of pacing in front of the locked door. Harry had given the only key to Ginny for he did not want to be able to enter, and yet, every time he passed he found himself mesmerized by what lay inside. It had been Sirius's' room in life, and now it had become a tomb for all those fallen by the Dark Lord's far reach. Portraits of all his family and friends that had been taken from him much too soon lay forgotten and fading behind the locked door. He could not bring himself to see their faces even though they paraded in front of his eyes every time he slept. Sirius was in there. As well as Dumbledore, his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Lupin. Their wisdom forever burned into his brain and their voices rang in his ears, but he could not bring himself to look at them. He had made Ginny promise that she would not enter that room for any reason, and that she would not let anyone else disturb their timeless rests. He would have thrown away the key if he wasn't afraid every day that there would be another portrait to add to the shadows. Many of his friends still lay dying, six years later, from many different curses and non-healing injuries and one by one he knew they would all become more ghosts walking the hallways of his home.

Harry lay in bed with his head buried under his pillow when he heard Ginny enter the room. He instantly shallowed and weakened his breathing so he appeared to be asleep. He felt her slowly creep onto the bed and she rested her hand on his inner thigh.

"Harry. Are you awake?"

He couldn't bring himself to look at her after that afternoon in the entryway. He noticed that as her sing-song whispers washed over him and her hand rested on his leg that he felt himself begin to throb. Why this? Why was this the only feeling in his body. The one he had no control over. A deep loathing for his own genitals had began to rise in Harry's stomach and he rolled over to cut off her access. He felt guilty for being aroused by her and yet that's how it should have been. But why only arousal? Isn't there more to love? Or was this it. What the fuck was wrong with him?

He lay in bed struggling to fall asleep as he felt her body warm up the bed next to him. She grabbed his arm up and forced him to roll over towards her where she molded her body into the curves of his. He felt the embarrasement swell along with his dick and tried to roll back but she pulled him closer against him and sighed.

"Your not getting away from me, Harry." Ginny giggled. "So don't even try. You might be stronger then me but I bet you didn't get an Outstanding in Charms. One wrong move, buddy, and I'll hex you." His breath parted her hair as he let out a short bit of laughter. She was the only one that made him feel this good. If this is what love was then that would be good enough for him. But he knew that it wasn't good enough for her. He did feel something then. Something strong. Fear. Fear of losing her.

"Ginny...I..." His voice was broken by the sudden rush of tears that were pounding through his throat. He knew he was going to start crying, but he welcomed the feeling. Ever since the war had ended he welcomed any feeling that entered his body. Fear of losing Ginny, resentment of what he'd lost. He had found himself causing himself pain just to know he was still alive. A punch to a wall, hard enough to bruise or break or a hair brush on the knee. He preferred it when he could get a good enough bruise that all he'd have to do to reinjure it would be to push on it. It was more discrete to reopen a busted vein under the skin on his leg from inside a pocket then on his hand. Then the only person to see it would be Ginny, who already knew it was there anyway. He found he couldn't hide anything from her. She could see right through him to the very depths of his soul, and she was the only person that had ever understood.

"I know baby. I know." Ginny looked over her shoulder and her red locks brushed away the only tear that had fallen from his straining ducts. "Harry, you don't have to hide it from me. It's okay to cry. I would love to see you cry actually. OK, that sounded really mean," she began to laugh before her face fell into a worried scowl "but I would kick your ass if I had to just to know you were feeling me." She smiled as she ran her fingers across his strong jaw. "You know I love you. More than anything in this entire world I love you. And I know, under those cloudy eyes and the tired face, you love me too. You wouldn't be here if you didn't, right? I can wait. I'll be here." With that she turned her head over and pressed her flowery tresses against his chest. His chin rested on top of her head and his arms draped around her. As his breathing began to fall into rhythm with hers, he ran his fingertips over her pillowy lips and let her kiss them.

"I do love you, Ginny." He heard himself whisper into her ears. As he began to drift, he prayed that one day it would be more then just the words. Even lying in bed, running his fingers through the hair of his sleeping bride to be, Harry could not find comfort. It was inconcievable to him that he could look into the eyes of this unbelievable beauty and not feel a damn thing past his finger tips. The silky smooth sensuality of her hair he could feel. As he moved farther back her head and ran over her ears, those soft ears that had listened so lovingly over the past six years and had taken in every complaint, every tear, every scream, he felt nothing more then the sharp stick that her earring gave to his tips. His fingers, searching, pleading, for a spot to hit that would wake up his soul at long last, came to rest on the tender, supple tissue of her erect breasts. Ginny gave a small sigh and a smile in her sleep before she rolled over to place her back against his form. He prayed that she would not wake up to see the clouds of despair rolling slowly into his dull green eyes.

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Chapter 3 Teaser

Someone had crept up behind him in the dark and was breathing heavily into his ears. That heavy breathing sounded familiar to him. He turned to look but the world began to blur around him as his bedroom came into clearer focus. In the dark next to him in his bed, he felt more than saw Ginny breathing very heavy in her sleep. He began to wonder what her dreams had been filled with, when he put his arm around her and felt her arm moving slowly. He hardly had time to imagine what could be when Ginny let out a soft moan that let him know his imagination wasn't ever that nice to him.

Lyrics are Bring me to life by Evanescence