She stood at the top of a gleaming staircase, looking down at the party below. Beautiful colors flashed by, twirling and jumping in time with the music. Waiting, she glanced around, desperate to see that glimpse of messy black hair, that lightning bolt scar that would tell her he was there with her, finally. Then, she saw him. Dressed in a Muggle suit, he was walking around the crowd, clearly looking for something, or someone. She smiled, and started to make her way down to the dance floor. His eyes drifted upward, locking with hers, and the smile that erupted on his face could light up London. They stepped toward each other, the energy flowing through their bodies moving faster. When their faces were less than a foot away from each other, counting the height difference, he leaned into her, eyes closing, breathing deeply. She was so happy to be here, with him…
The smell of bacon drifted into the room, jolting Ginny awake from her fantastic dream. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, confused. If I'm in here, she thought. Then who's making breakfast?
Since December of last year, Ginny had been living alone, unable to handle the absence of her brother, best friend, and love of her life. Being at the Burrow without them had proved to be too difficult, so she had gone and rented a small apartment in Muggle London, away from Wizarding World drama and stress. She hadn't even touched her wand in months, learning to cook and clean without magical help.
The warming aroma of hot coffee entered her nose now, worrying her. What is going on?
She slowly rose out of bed, the shag rug soft and comfortable on her bare feet. They padded along the hardwood flooring as she left her room, giving away her presence. Who cares anyway, she thought to herself. If they're here, they must know someone else has been in here, too.
Ginny entered the kitchen, expecting a platinum blond head of anger. Instead, she was greeted with a head of, not light, but dark, messy hair. Her heart caught in her throat. No way. She moved forward quietly, trying to get a glimpse of the face behind the familiar mop of hair.
"Gin, I know you're there."
She gasped, surprised but at the same time, not. "No. No, it can't be you," she said with a small laugh, disbelieving.
The mop turned around, revealing the boyish face she had fallen for years ago. His unforgettable smile erupted onto his lips, lighting up his entire face and stretching the lightning bolt scar slightly. His emerald green eyes glowed with happiness, as they always used to when Ginny was near him. This convinced her; it was really him. Harry Potter was back. Her Harry was back.