Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: This fic has been long in the making. As Hermione/Ginny was the first lesbian pairing I ever let myself have as I came to understand my own lesbian-ness, it is quite near and dear to my heart. I didn't want to fuck it up, so I never let myself really write it. I did, at one point, have the start of fic, starting after the 3rd book. I eventually stopped, then started again, and stopped. So on and so forth for a number of years. By the time I came around to writing it again, I realized that the awesome beginning I conceptualized no longer worked within the cannon. I scrapped the entire idea (well, maybe not entirely, but it definitely got shoved deep into the fic). So...let me know if you want me to keep going. I know it's short and I don't want to string you out if you will not be entertained.

In Muggle literature, spring is the season of rejuvenation but for Harry Potter, it had always been summer. Summer was the transformative season where his life always altered dramatically, beginning with that letter addressed to him at the Cupboard under the Stairs and with the unveiling of its contents on July 31st, 1991. And while Harry Potter's life had always revolved around Harry Potter, he felt sure that the Wizarding World (or at least those closest to him) felt the same about summer.

On May 2nd, 1998, Harry Potter died. Who is to say how long he was dead, but it was an unequivocal fact that he was, in fact, dead. And then, as suddenly as his life had been viciously taken from him, it was restored.

The final battle had been won but the war was not quite over, in fact, it had created a new war; one fought within the breasts of every witch and wizard who had suffered, and they all had suffered terribly. Although this new and more pernicious war had yet to begin, there seemed to be an expectation that life should now be a happy ending, wrapped up with a pretty bow. Harry Potter lived, saved the Wizarding World from pure malevolence, so naturally, he gets the girl and they live happily ever after.

But there was no happily ever after for Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley. From the beginning, their relationship was doomed to fail. First off, neither would admit they suffered from what Muggles termed 'PTSD.' Hermione did a splendid job explaining the 'science' behind it, but all Harry knew was that sleeping a full eight hours was never a part of his life. Second, neither wanted to let go of what few fragments of some imagined happiness they once possessed. All the memories of Basiliks, Mirrors, Tournaments, friends who perished, were carefully repressed.

They occupied physical space but possessed a ghost-like existence in association with each other. More apt an observation would have been they were caught in the routine loop. Every morning, Harry would wake in a state. Ginny, awoken by the thrashing or yelling, would attempt to calm him. Once he finally settled, Ginny would throw on a robe and trudge downstairs to make some breakfast. Ginny was not a domestic housewife by any stretch of the imagination, but she learned quickly that she would not be able to return to sleep after one of Harry's episodes. Instead, she cooked a hearty meal for both of them, taking a few slugs of Firewhisky to help wake herself up ('Just helping myself wake up' Ginny reminded herself, not numbing herself to the pain she felt).

Ginny never knew if she was going to see Harry in the morning. Sure, he had a job at the Ministry of Magic, but they gave him free license to come and go as his moods let him; after all, he single-handedly destroyed the evil plaguing the entire Wizarding World. Days Harry trudged downstairs, they ate breakfast together. Days he remained upstairs, she just left a plate on the table. Even though she had suffered, lost family and friends, she was not alone in the Wizarding World; Ginny Weasley did not have an excuse to skip practice.