Dawn broke cold and blue over the turrets of Hogwarts castle, and so did his heart.

Harry was exhausted. The seven years' worth of fighting the greatest dark wizard in the world had finally come to an end just hours, hell, mere minutes ago. Every terrible angle of his vision revealed someone he knew that had died in the fighting, ranging from children no older than eleven to wizards and witches with thinning gray hair. Whatever faint illusion of having his parents back had slipped through his fingers like fine sand, and he was having second thoughts about leaving it in the forest for nifflers and acromantulas to scavenge. Ginny and the rest of the Weasley family were nowhere in sight. He was beyond exhausted.

Ron and Hermione stood beside him, as tight lipped and bleary eyed as he was. Wreckage lay all around him and each broken stone seemed to have a loved one's name inscribed on it. Lavender. Colin. Fred. His bloody hands shook as he clenched his wand more tightly in his fist. How many were dead? How many did not survive the night to see the glorious sunrise over Hogwarts?

He caught sight of a girl gently shutting a child's eyes and carrying its pathetically frail body off to the side for burial. She turned and locked her gaze on his face, and their bodies bent time and space to meet each other in a collision of simultaneous joy, sadness, but most of all, relief.

"Oh, Harry," Ginny whispered into his neck, her arms wrapped fiercely around his neck. Her body pressed into his and every tense muscle relaxed as he surrendered to her touch, the feel of her lips against his face. "Harry."

"Ginny," he gasped. He opened his mouth to say more, but she cut him off with a finger to his lips and kissed him again, and he kissed her back in fervent hope that her touch could draw the pain out from his flesh. "I'm so happy you're alive."

"Me too," she said, her tears burning on his neck. "When Hagrid was carrying you, I—I thought you were actually—"

"It's okay now," he whispered, holding her even closer to him. "I'm alive. I'm safe. You're safe now. Nothing's going to hurt us anymore, Ginny. He's gone."

"I know." The words are muffled, but he heard them.

At long last, they let go of each other, but Ginny's fingers were still tightly laced between Harry's. The stood in the middle of the Great Hall's remains, looking upon the destruction miserably.

"What are we going to do after this?" Ginny asked, gesturing to the ruins. Her deep brown eyes were sad and confused, and Harry knew—somehow—she wasn't just talking about fixing the castle.

"I don't know." He flexed his hand, and Ginny squeezed back in response. "It's going to take a lot of magic to fix this," he said in a weak attempt at lightheartedness.

Ginny rested her head on his shoulder, and he moved to put his arm around her. "Don't let go of me," she whispered, putting his hand back in his original position. "I can't lose you. Not again."

"I won't," he said fiercely. "I won't lose you either." He swallowed a choking lump in his throat. "I thought about you, you know."

"When?"

"In the forest. When…when he was about to kill me. I was afraid to die," he confessed. "But I thought about Mum, and Dad and Sirius and Remus. And I thought about you. I—I thought about you and—and suddenly, I wasn't afraid anymore. I wasn't scared to die. I knew you loved me," he whispered. "It didn't matter what Voldemort thought. You were the last thing I saw before I died."

She was silent, tears shining bright in her eyes, and she embraced him once again, sobbing quietly into the dirty cloth of his jacket—but it didn't matter, because he was crying too, crying like he had never had reason to cry before.

But it was all over, the earth still spun, Hogwarts, his one faithful home, was still standing, Ron and Hermione were still alive, and most importantly, he held Ginny in his arms and she was alright, and maybe the world would put itself right again. It was all over, he knew, and he was ready for it to stay that way.

He knew he would have to fix himself someday. But he didn't have to do it himself. He'd have Ginny with him, and maybe, maybe, somewhere down the line in a few golden years, they would put each other back together again.

For now, he was content with holding her in his arms, fiercely refusing to let anything hurt her again.

just a lil drabble for may 2nd! please leave a review if you enjoyed, or hit me up on tumblr anakcin :)