It's Over, It's Finally Over

It was Tuesday, June 2, 1998 at 2PM. The sun was high in the sky, the June weather was sprinkling a pleasant mist of rain, and magical London was a buzz. However, in their flat, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had no idea of that. Harry and Ron were sitting in their livingroom couch, not doing anything but staring at the empty fireplace in front of them. Every once and a while one of them would take a sip of their butterbeer. Other than that, they sat in their dark flat (thanks to magical blinds) and stared at nothing. It was one of those days, when something early on triggered something and they found they could do nothing.

It had been a month since Lord Voldemort had been defeated. Harry Potter and his friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, had managed to, with the help of their friends and family, end the Dark Lord's reign of terror. After being on the run for months and spending their entire Hogwarts career working for it, Lord Voldemort's downfall had come. It hadn't been easy, they'd been beaten, tortured, and all but killed. Their friends had sacrificed their lives and children of that generation were growing up with parents, without families. The damage done to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the school that taught them magic and brought them together, in the final battle was monumental and they were still working on repairs. The government that took too long to act was yet to be trusted but was still needed. The world was they knew it had collapsed, and the prophet and other media outlets were a constant buzz in the ears of anyone who had participated in the Battle of Hogwarts. Especially the 'Golden Trio' as Harry, Ron, and Hermione were now officially called.

Harry, for his part, had no idea what to do. He had applied to be an Auror, of course, and Kingsley Shacklebolt, current acting Minister of Magic, had replied instantaneously with his acceptance. Of course he had, who didn't want 'The Chosen One', 'The-Boy-Who-Lived', Harry Potter on their side. Training didn't start until October, and until then he had nothing to do. He would get a job, or work on repairs for Hogwarts, but he couldn't. Anywhere he went out he was crowded, even more than before. It didn't help that months on the run and a life being hunted had strained his nerves, he felt light a rubber band ready to snap and he couldn't guarantee he wouldn't curse someone by accident at a job. The obvious plan B was to work on Hogwarts, but magical repair was not his strong suit and he would do nothing but provide a distraction to those actually able to work. Besides the fact that since he was 17 and now officially 'Lord Potter' meant he was constantly working at the Ministry in the Wizengamot. He didn't want to, but it was his job. Besides, he felt responsible for the mess that the Ministry and Wizarding World was in and knew it was his duty to help.

Beside Harry on the couch, Ron was in no better shape. He, too, had been accepted into the Auror program. In the meantime he worked for his older brother, George, at Weasley's Wizard Wheezeys. He had been sent home today after nearly cursing an 11 year old girl who wouldn't take no for an answer and then, once she realized who he was, started fangirling obnoxiously. He didn't know why she was surprised, people came into the shop all of the time looking for Golden Trio Member Ron Weasley and his now famous family. If anything, he usually enjoyed the attention he'd gotten since they had defeated Lord Voldemort but some people were downright obnoxious. He was high strung, angry, and exhausted. He still carried the guilt of leaving Harry and Hermione, of seeing Fred die, of not protecting his family. He was angered that, now that the battle was over, there was nothing he could do. He didn't have the money to influence the government like the Malfoys, he wasn't a Lord like Harry, and he wouldn't even work at the Ministry until nearly February.

Hermione walked in through the fireplace at half till 3, unsurprised when both Ron and Harry jumped and raised their wands at her, "What is your patronus and who taught it to you?" Ron asked, shooting the question out quickly.

"An otter," Hermione replied. "And Harry did, during our fifth year in DA when Umbridge was not teaching us a damn thing."

Harry and Ron looked at each other, nodding before sitting down to return to their previous staring. Hermione didn't mind, walking to the kitchen and getting a glass of water before returning to the living room and sitting in a large, plush couch seat they had received from George with a wink a week or two after the battle as a move in gift. Much like she had done all of those years ago, she settled in and opened up her book without saying a word. She put herself into the book and read, ignoring the real world. That seemed to be all she did lately, read. She'd read all of the books she had, go to the bookstore, buy some with the money she'd gotten from interviews and the like, and return back to their flat to read. Shortly after the battle she'd gone to Australia to revive her parents memories and return them home. What she had seen had been heartbreaking - they were happy. In their new lives they were more successful than they had been back home. They were happier together, perhaps because they didn't have a stress of a witch for a daughter. A witch of a daughter who kept coming home battered and bruised, with a teacher's note and no explanation. She'd realized then that the life she had created for them was perfect, and returned home with the understanding that she was ignorant to think that they could ever return. So, until September, she waited. She waited until school started up again, when she would return, disqualified from the Head Girl position she had vied for for years because she was a year older and battle tested, and finish her schooling alone. She didn't blame Harry and Ron for her upcoming year alone, but blamed herself. All of that life experience and she had no clue what she wanted to do with her life. No family, no life goals, and no longer eligible for the highest honor of schooling she slipped into books. Reading novels, textbooks, and journals to escape her reality. To ignore the nightmares and pretend that she wasn't always nervous, anxious, and scared. Some Gryffindor.

So, the Golden Trio languished in their collective bad mood. Doing nothing in their minimal three bedroom flat. They sat in the living room, a large-ish room that one entered through the front door or, more commonly, the floo connected fireplace angled to connect two walls, the glass doors to the porch, and the wall with the entrance on it. Through a moderately sized dining room there was the kitchen that, over a bar, could see the entire flat. There was a table in the dining room, but while it was large it only had three chairs and was not suitable for company. Down a hall behind the couches one would find their three bedrooms, Ron and Harry sharing the ones by the restroom and Hermione taking the master. Though barren, it was a beautiful flat that Harry had purchased and, on Ron and Hermione's insistence, took a small rent of 100 galleons a month for. Before they had moved in they, with the help of Ron's curse breaking brother Bill, had warded the flat. No one, except for close friends and family, knew where they lived or how to get there. Additionally, Ron's mother, Molly Weasley, was the secret keeper to the fidelius charm that kept all gawkers at bay. When they'd had their old Charms Professor over to check the protections, he had excitedly exclaimed that it was safer than even Hogwarts. Only then had they slept without taking turns to watch.

Despite their seclusion, bitterness, and unenthused attitude the Golden Trio remained, to the population of Wizarding Britain, fine and happy. In their interviews they modestly smiled over the downfall of Lord Voldemort. When they saw their friends they grinned and joked easily. At the required weekly Weasley dinners they clapped along at the overflowing wave of good news. All in all, the only place they were real was their home. Which may be why over the past week they'd been spending more and more time there, alone.

It wasn't until nearly 5 that Ginerva Weasley, known to most as Ginny or '[blank]'s little sister' as she had grown up with 6 older brothers, came in through the floo. She jumped with all three of the Trio jumped up and pointed their wands at her.

"What did Fred say to us before Fluer and Bill's wedding?" Harry asked, his voice strained and angry. As if he knew it wasn't Ginny and was angry that someone would impersonate her. He looked a force to be reckoned with, as did the others, and it was clear that if someone was in fact impersonating Ginny Weasley they would regret it soon.

"What?" Ginny asked, her hands up to show she was not a threat. No matter how many times she came over to this response, she would never get used to it. When she looked at the trio she saw her funny older brother, her lovable and kind bookworm friend, and the modest and loyal man she'd cared for her entire life. She didn't see this, broken down witches and wizards terrified in the aftermath of a lifetime of war.

"ANSWER HIS QUESTION!" Ron demanded, yelling and making her jump. His eyes were not those of the brother who had taught her to make her stuffed dolls dance when they were kids but those of a cold and determined man. A man ready and able to fight to the death with an instant of warning.

"Um, 'Morning?" She asked, not sure. She thought back, painfully remembering the brother she had lost. "Yes, he walked in and said 'Morning' before sipping his tea."

Ron and Hermione both looked to Harry before he nodded and they all lowered their wands. Ginny let out a sigh of relief before walking into the room. She looked around and frowned, walking to the glass door in front of the porch and opening the blinds to let the remaining light of day in. They groaned and glared, none of them wanting to face the day.

"Oh you're all bloody pathetic," Ginny said, standing with her hands on her hips. She was wearing baggy light blue jeans that were worn out and held up with a thick black belt. In opposition to the pants, she wore a tight fit red shirt with Hogwarts written on it. her shirt wasn't tucked in, but it came right to the hem of her jeans and gave the appearance that it did. On top of it all she wore a knit zipper-sweater that one could assume Mrs. Weasley made. Harry, upon first seeing her, also noted that she wasn't wearing a bra. "Harry, have you put on a pair of damn trowsers since you got back from the Witches Weekly photoshoot?"

Harry looked down at his legs and realized that he hadn't put pants on since his shower the morning before, which was the morning after the photoshoot. "What of it?" He asked defensively, "They're perfectly reasonable shorts!"

Hermione laughed lightly, and covered her grin with her hand. At the glare from Harry she explained, "I'm sorry Harry, but they have pictures of owls on them."

Harry looked indignant, "Well I don't see you complaining about Ron's ruddy Babbity Rabbity shorts!"

Ginny looked at Ron, wearing a pair of jeans, a Chudley Cannons shirt, and his smock from Wizards Wheezys. She grinned at his and Hermione's blush at Harry's instigation.

"Not fair Harry!" Ron exclaimed, "That's a low blow mate!"

"Oi nutsacks!" Ginny exclaimed, amazed at their ability to completely forget that she was there. War trained witches and wizards responsible for the downfall of Lord Voldemort after evading him and his total control for months and they never noticed when she was in the room! They all stopped their mild-mannered bickering and looked at her, for a moment looking normal and happy. Which made what she was about to say all the more unbelievable. "You're pathetic, the lot of you." At their affronted faces, she continued. "Don't try and deny it, you should be celebrating liberation and life more than any of these bloody wankers out there and you're moping like you've gotten the dementor's kiss! Ron, did you really almost curse a little girl today because she was wrong over a spell?" Harry chuckled and she turned on him quickly, "And you. Saviour of the bloody wizarding world and you can't even get into your trainers?" He looked almost ashamed for a moment and before he could say anything, Ginny cut him off and finalized on Hermione. "I don't know what has gotten into you but Hermione after dinner last week George said you bummed him out. The three of you, you should be out celebrating and you're in here doing nothing."

There was silence in the room at first, Harry in his underwear, Ron in his smock, and Hermione still holding her book. All quiet under Ginny's glare and allowing her to feel relief that she had smacked them out of their stupor. That is, until Hermione broke out into tears and ran from the room.

"Good job Ginny," Ron snapped, angry at Ginny for making Hermione cry. "Making Hermione cry, really, bloody brilliant." He finished before following Hermione to her room.

Ginny glared, not sure what to say. She hadn't intended to make anyone cry, she just wanted them to snap out of it! They were all so sad it was depressing. It killed her to see them like this, to see the toll it was taking on them when the rest of the world was celebrating their victory. She watched Ron leave and then Harry fall to his seat. He slouched in the chair and his vacant stare returned as he watched the empty fireplace. Ginny sighed, walked to sit next to him but not too close. She supposed it was because he'd already registered her, but he didn't even flinch when she sat down, not registering the movement in the slightest. It killed her to see him like this.

When he'd first broken up with her she hadn't been surprised, and though she'd argued with him about it she hadn't been dense enough to think it would work. Harry was a true Gryffindor, loyal to the core, and would never consider risking her life. Even though she was already at risk - a Weasley and younger sibling to known Potter friend Ron Weasley - Harry would never believe it was worth the risk he saw. She'd known he would succeed and when that happened she'd known he would return to her. That, despite her anger at being left behind and underestimated, was what had gotten her through her 6th year at Hogwarts. What she hadn't expected to get him back in this condition. Broken, tired, and scared beyond any expectations. He hadn't said a thing to her about their relationship, with the exception of one awkward conversation soon after the battle.

It was the afternoon on the day following the battle and Harry had been awoken by a nightmare and unable to return to sleep. Rather than wake up Ron and Hermione, who had already given up enough for him, he wandered out of the Gryffindor Boys Dorm and around the castle. He was aimlessly making his way to the Owlery, without realizing it, and that was where he found Ginny.

"Oh, hey," He'd said, putting his hands in his jeans and standing awkwardly.

Ginny looked up at him and gave a smile, standing and hugging him. "You did it," She said, grinning as she spoke. "You guys really did it."

He gave a noncommittal shrug, already uncomfortable with the concept of taking the credit. "At such a price..."

Ginny glared, "No, you're not punishing yourself anymore." She put her hands on her hips and Harry smiled, happy to see her again. She was the same. The same beautiful, strong, independant Ginny that he cared so much about. "What're you looking at me like that for?" Ginny asked, snapping him out of his stupor.

"Sorry," He said, his cheeks reddening slightly as he struggled for a proper explanation. "I, uh," He was too tired to come up with an excuse. He stood there for a moment, shifting slightly and not saying anything, before Ginny saved him.

"I know," She said, looking at him dead in the eye. "Me too, it's so great to see you Harry."

"I was so worried about you and seeing you, healthy and-" Harry forced himself to not cry, not over something happy, not now. "You're still so beautiful."

Ginny blushed under his gaze, stepping forward and standing close. At their heights, him not too much taller than her, their mouths were perfectly aligned. She kissed him so slightly and for a moment he didn't register it, standing shocked. That moment passed and he wrapped his arms around her and kept kissing. For that moment they were in their own little bubble, and even after everything, Ginny was still better and more addicting than firewhiskey.

After the kiss she blushed under his gaze yet again, but they didn't say a thing.

Oh how she wished she had said something more, and then maybe Harry wouldn't be like this. Maybe he wouldn't be staring vacantly into space, trapped within his own thoughts. Feeding on his own sadness in a downward spiral that she never could have predicted. How could she? He had his moments, and Harry could brood like no one, but how could she have anticipated such debilitating brooding? She wasn't even sure what to call it, but she knew something was going on and it killed her that she couldn't help. It killed her that since they had never truly spoken, she didn't even have the right to do anything. She wasn't anything to him, they weren't attached to each other. More than anything else that killed her inside.

It must have been nearly 20 minutes of his brooding and her staring, biting her lip as she thought and worried. "Harry," She finally spoke, slowly getting his attention. "Harry, can we talk?"

Harry read her for a moment before nodding, "'Course Gin." He said, sounding almost like himself for a moment. "What about?"

"Us," She replied, playing with her fingers as she spoke. She was nervous. Harry didn't seem like he was ready to talk about corn flakes, much less their relationship. Then he would snap back in the blink of an eye and she was again certain he could take down anything and anyone that came in his way.

Harry sighed, straightening up and thinking for a moment that seemed to last forever. He'd known this would come, he'd known the topic of 'us' would come up but he'd hoped to put it off. He didn't want to worry about it. Yes, there were his emotions, but he'd been so trapped within himself lately that he knew a talk like this would drain him. Still, with a glance at Ginny's nervous and eager face he knew they'd have to do it. "Okay," He decided, standing up and offering her his hand. "but let's go to my room, Ron'd just barge in here and apparently I need to put on some trousers."

Ginny giggled, which was much unlike her and not unnoticed by Ron and Hermione in the room by them, and took his hand before they headed to his room. She couldn't help it, she was excited and nervous all at once. This was it, she could tell. They were finally, finally getting back together. When she'd first gotten there, intent on talking to Harry, and found the trio moping in the darkness her heart had sank. They weren't going to discuss anyone or anything.

Now though, as she followed him to his room she knew that it was concrete. Good or bad, probably good, they were going to determine this now. No more crushing nights of waiting or pangs of jealously that were completely unfounded. He shut the door behind them and did a silencing spell without thinking. To Harry the definitions of 'safe' and 'private' would always be this extreme, and Ginny knew it. She frowned lightly at his room.

His room was the farthest down the hall and the closest to the bathroom. When you walked in to your right was his long and skinny closet, remains of hangers and clothes he never wore propped up inside of it. On the top shelf there was his broom and broom cleaning kit along with his potions cauldron from school, though she doubted he used it any more. Flush to the wall opposite the closet was a window charmed to be completely black no matter the time of day. That's where his bed was, a queen sized bed with a white fitted sheet, a large quilt Mrs. Weasley and Ginny had made him that had snitches all over it, and a pillow with no case. It was obviously not set, and it was clear he'd merely rolled out of it. By the right side of his bed was his trunk being used as a nightstand, she noted that on it was a bunch of auror scrolls and a stack of letters. She assumed that most were from fans but saw one with muggle formatting on it from the Dursleys. There were also a couple of glasses and a firewhiskey bottle that was half empty. Other than that, she noted as she sat on the edge of his bed, he didn't have any furniture. Books were in stacks across the room and most of his clothes were somewhere on the floor. In fact, he picked up a pair of jeans off of the floor as she sat.

When he put them on she determined that for his upcoming birthday she'd have to get him something for the room. It was barren and depressing, he hadn't a thing on the walls. A hamper, perhaps, would keep the clothes off of the floor at least. Maybe she could just get him a book on cleaning charms, or a shelf to put what appeared to be every school book he'd ever owned on rather than the floor. A desk? She didn't know how much those were, but her dad probably had one in the shed she could fix up.

Harry laughed as he joined her on the end of the bed, about a foot away. "You're turning into your mum."

"Am not!" She replied indignantly, glaring at him for the accusation. She loved her mum, her mum was a wonderful person, but seven kids plus Harry and Hermione and at times Luna had turned her just a tad crazy. Besides, she could never just be a housewife.

"Were you not just thinking about how to clean my room?" He asked, innocent in his words but smirking like the twins when they teased Percy. In truth, he hated having his room like this. When he'd first moved in it'd been clean he just hadn't gotten around to keeping it that way. "Though, I am sorry it's such a mess." He changed the topic before sighing and changing it yet again. "So, do you want to start?"

"You're pathetic, the lot of you."

She was right, of course. Ginny was correct. Hermione, brightest witch of her age, knew that. They were supposed to be impressive. Their names were in lights, they were national heroes renowned far and wide. Still, she couldn't function in day to day life without fear and exhaustion. Years of training, fighting, and education and this is where she stood? Hermione knew better than anyone that Ginny was right, she was pathetic.

"I don't know what has gotten into you but Hermione after dinner last week George said you bummed him out. The three of you, you should be out celebrating and you're in here doing nothing."

Hermione cracked at those words, because she was doing nothing, nothing was on her list of goals, nothing was going to change, she was nothing. Her time was over, she'd done everything she ever would. She dropped her book and ran her thumb over the scar that Bellatrix had carved into her forearm: Mudblood. The tears came then, in a burst because her life was over. Her opportunities were gone and she had no direction. How could she go anywhere when she had no idea what she wanted to do? The world full of opportunities and she was over or underqualified for them all.

She ran out then, running to her room, her bed. She'd put together her room before she'd gone to Australia, before she'd really broken down, and the contrast in before-her and now-her was frightening. Upon getting to the room, the euphoria from success still coursing through her and the others bones (though Harry fell much quicker than her and Ron, Ron still fell before her), she'd charmed the walls a nice pale yellow. She'd also gone out and purchased a cat tree for Crookshanks that she kept to one side of her bed, which she put on the far wall by the windows. On the other side of her double bed from her childhood home was a night stand with sheets held within it. On top of that, next to her once perfectly set floral print bed with many, many pillows, was a jar of fire, a family photo that stood out instantly as muggle, and a relatively short stack of books. Filling the rest of her room she had an entire wall of shelving for her books on the wall she walked in through, a desk in between her bed and bath door that had a butch also filled with books. and at the foot of her bed was her trunk covered in a quilt she'd gotten from her grandmother a year or two ago. With a large closet to hold her hanging clothes, shoes, caudron and leftover potions supplies, her room was fairly free. It was generally clean, probably cleaner than Ron's room had ever been, but for her was in complete disarray. When Ron came in, following after her, he noticed it instantly.

Though he'd run in, he stopped when he knock-opened the door and walked slower. When he got to the bed he climbed in, finding Hermione curled up with her back to her headboard by the window wrapped in her floral comforter. Crookshanks was there, curled up beside her and purring, and Ron shooed her away before sitting against the headboard and pulling Hermione into his lap.

"You didn't have to do that," She said as she readjusted to his lap. She took a deep breath when she got there, taking in his warm scent, before settling down. She was sitting more upright now and kissed him on the cheek, "But thank you."

Ron smiled, it was a bittersweet moment. He was so happy to have her in his arms, but so sad that she was hurting so much. "Can you believe Harry's shorts?" He asked with a smirk, and for a moment Hermione laughed too.

"Yeah, I can," She said with a smile. There was silence for a moment, comfortable as the two settled down with each other. They were comfortable, fitting together like a well made puzzle. "Thanks again," Hermione broke the silence by looking at Ron and speaking. "Sometimes I just..." She trailed off, but the look of understanding on Ron's face made it clear he didn't mind.

"No problem," Ron said, squeezing her lightly. "That's what boyfriends are for and besides," He grinned before joking with a tone of seriousness. "I wanted out anyway."

Hermione nodded, hearing Harry's door click and feeling the familiar feel of wards and silencing charms. "Seems like they wanted you out of there too." She teased the older brother beside her and he only laughed.

"Nah, Harry's been avoiding her like the plague." Ron said, "If anything she'll force them to talk. I can prove it too."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him, finally wiping the tears off of her face as he got her attention. "How?" Eavesdropping on Harry nowadays was downright impossible. Not that he ever really talked to anyone but them, or talked to anyone actually, but they'd also noticed that since they got back home he'd been a little paranoid. He'd put up half a million warding and protection spells before talking about thing except Quidditch. So, when Ron said he could prove anything that Harry was or was not saying while in his locked and protected room he caught her attention.

Ron gave a demonic grin, "He may be powerful, but the twi- George is smarter. I dropped one of their remote extendable ears in there a week ago."

Hermione laughed, clapping her hands over her mouth to keep it down. "That's brilliant!" She said, a vague evidence of surprise in her voice. As she got up and Ron pretended to not watch before he followed Ron spoke.

"No need to act so surprised," He said, opening her door and leading the two of them to his room.

Upon first arriving to Ron Weasley's room the first thing you notice is his small, twin sized bed. He had a bed or the money for one, unlike Harry who didn't have the bed but did have money, so since he didn't have to get one, he'd just moved his childhood bed. The bed sat in the middle of his room, because that's where he'd first put it down and hadn't felt the need to move it, and had bright orange chudley cannons sheets and a thick white blanket on top of it. There was one floppy beat up pillow, the orange covered thing was on the floor though. Much like everything else he owned. His trunk was on its side in the closet and everything else was on the floor. Potions cauldron (with a hole in it from a previous mishap), broom, owl cage, everything was on the floor. His owl in question, Pig a small but effective owl with a hyperactive personality, was avoiding the swipe of Crookshanks who had followed Hermione in. The owl was flying close to the wall, it's minor gusts of wind blowing quidditch posters, Gryffindor flags, cut outs from the Prophet and Quibbler, and the many photos that adorned his walls.

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione said at the state of things."Your mum would have a fit."

"Oh shut it, why don't you," Ron said, sitting on his bed and pulling a box out from under it. Hermione rolled her eyes before sitting beside him and pressing her ear up to the little ear he had.

"...turning into your mum!"

Did she want to start? No, not really. She liked the Harry she was seeing now, happy. Ginny also really wanted Harry, all of him not just the happy Harry, and she knew that to get that they'd have to talk. They'd have to do something other than have an amazing kiss and not speak about it for months. They'd have to do more than have almost-moments interrupted by her many brothers. They'd have to ignore the upside down outside and focus on each other.

"Yeah," She said, looking at her fingers. As much as she wanted to talk, she didn't know what to say. This wasn't a school romance, this was more in depth, more complicated. They needed more than 'do you want to go to Hogsmead with me? Check, yes or no' scrawled on a rip of parchment and passed across the History of Magic classroom. There was anger, resentment. It wasn't a clear cut 'Harry I want every part of you in my life'. It was anger and a desire to move on. She looked up from her view, her jeans and his , when he reached out tentatively to grab her hand. He didn't say a thing, but he was looking at her like that, and she couldn't help feel the warmth flow through her. She smiled before speaking because she knew that this conversation that they had to have would be tough, because she knew they'd make it through stronger and closer than ever before.

"It's like this," Ginny said, finally, when Harry grabbed her hand. He focused on her when she spoke, knowing that in this moment she could end him. He'd been avoiding her for a while, since they'd kissed and the thought of her rejection bolted through him as it ended. Ginny was... his life. He'd realized that months ago, when he'd been on the run and seen Ron and Hermione together. They were so much stronger than him because they had each other. They were lucky, he knew, and they deserved it. He'd seen since he was a kid the danger his compassion put people in, that's why he couldn't stay with Ginny but now, with no reason to not, with no excuse, he feared that she didn't want to be with him. That even after all of his turmoil, she'd moved on. "You, you left and broke up with me as if it changed a damn thing."

Harry scrunched up his face in confusion, it had changed everything. How many nights had he stayed up in the absence of her? When he'd died his thoughts had been filled with her. Regret and an understanding that he'd done what he'd had to do. His heart had broken at her cries, because he'd heard them so clearly, because he felt so at hearing her sadness. All they could have done, all they could have been, and he was forced to throw it all away. Anger, unreasonable but present, welled up inside him

"Harry, you know," Ginny was nervous now. Not sure of herself, and the thought of rejection hitting her mind like a wild, rabid hippogriff. She blushed furiously, her face turning bright-Weasley red. Ignoring that, she powered through. I'm going to get through this or die trying, "When you ended things with me," She said. "It was terrible, but I'd been expecting it, you know?" She took a deep, shaky breath before continuing. "I mean you're Harry, bloody martyr of the century. So I guess we should, since you're back now are we-?" She stopped talking, unsure as to how to finish her sentence without sounding like an idiot. She didn't need to, she didn't think, or maybe just hoped. It had to be clear what she was getting at, and from the nodd Harry supplied her she knew he, at least, understood.

Harry nodded when she spoke, not sure how to answer. Were they a they? Oh merlin he wished, but that was up to her, wasn't it? He'd ended it, no matter that he had to, so he couldn't just show up and say they were back on. That was up to her. He sat there in silence for a moment, waiting for her to speak. That was until he realized that she'd intended for him to reply and took a deep breath before speaking. "I would love to, uh, be together again, but that's up to you? Isn't it?"

Ginny felt Harry's stare and all it meant. It was up to her now. SHe grinned, this is all she had wanted for months. The ability to tell him to sit down, shut up, and accept that they cared for one another. "Of course," She said, and her smile widened when Harry's somber face turned into an ecstatic grin. She wasn't surprised at all when he quickly moved forward to kiss her, their kiss deepening quickly. She fell back onto the mattress, Harry climbing on top of her and in between her legs with one hand in her hair and the other still holding her flush to him.

Harry was amazed that Ginny had said yes, and even more amazed at the passion in their kiss. After all of their time apart, after all of the worries, they had here and now. Even on top of her, he felt the need to hold her close. She was so soft, so comforting. Right now, she was everything.

In Ron's room, listening to her best friends in a very emotional moment, Hermione felt progressively more awkward as Ron's ears turned a deeper shade of red. After far too long, in Ron's mind, but what was only moments in the world, Ron jumped up and rushed out of the room. Every older brother alarm was going off in his head and he needed to get Harry away from his little sister.

"Ron!" Hermione followed him out of the door, but he was already banging on Harry's door as loud as he could. When that didn't work he pulled out his wand, trying spells that he'd learned while they'd been on the run. "Ron stop! She's nearly 17 you can't keep-"

It was Ginny who opened the door after Ron's many failed attempts to get in. Harry was behind her and clearly trying to stop her from arguing with her brother. Her arms were crossed and her face was angry, but Ron didn't notice that. He noticed her hair slightly matted, a shirt wrinkled from the bed. He noticed Harry's guilty look and hastefully re-adjusted jeans. Though they'd done nothing more than snog, Ron quickly came to a different conclusion.

"What're you two doing in there?!" He exclaimed, his outburst rude and angry. What was his little sister doing shagging? What was his best friend doing taking advantage of her? "What the bloody hell did you do to my sister?!"

The final question was addressed at Harry, who looked terrified and guilty. He knew what was best, to just not. To not date her, not care about her, not notice how beautiful she was, but he couldn't and he felt guilty for that fact.

Ginny, on the other hand, did not feel guilty. Anger, instead, coursed through her bones. "What do you think you're doing?" She exclaimed, "Banging on the door like the ruddy world's over? It's not your business what we do and you don't get to be angry when you think we've done something!"

"I bloody well can!" Ron exclaimed, yelling right back. "You're my little sister, I'm supposed to protect you-"

"I'm nearly 17, Ron!" Ginny cut him off. "You can't protect me from the evils of the bedroom forever."

Harry sent Hermione a pleading look, the siblings weren't going to stop fighting anytime soon and he didn't want to be hexed. Hermione nodded at him, sharing the concern. Ron needed to learn that Ginny was a responsible young woman, and that Harry was absolutely enamored by her and wouldn't do a thing to harm her. Ginny needed to realize that Ron only had her best interests at hear and accept that he wasn't doing this as a personal attack and insult on her. However, there was no way either of them would realize that tonight. So, she suggested the first thing that came to her mind, and instantly regretted it.

"Why don't we go get dinner," Hermione suggested. "Celebrate hu?"

Ginny smiled enthusiastically and Harry and Ron looked at her in shock. Go out to eat? In public? The idea of leaving the flat was not an appealing one. They didn't want to deal with people or pretend to be fine, but it was too late. Taking Harry by the arm, Ginny dragged them all out of the flat and towards the many restaurants of wizarding london.

Author's Note: Hello all! Here you have read the first chapter of my take on the post-war lifetime of Harry and friends. It's a little angsty, I know, but they just survived a war. What does everyone think? I'll try and get the next chapter out soon!

Additional Note: Does anyone else get extremely annoyed that line breaks don't load properly into fanfiction? Nevertheless, I will put them in. :)