DISCLAIMER: Dear Joanne Rowling, this is me requesting to buy Harry Potter off of you. Yours Truly, Claudia. No? Oh, okay then. I guess I don't own Harry Potter then.

A/N: Okay, so this was just a quick one shot for a competition with a few friends, hence the reason why I added it on here. It had to include the words Conundrum, Hippogriff, Cauliflower, Studmuffin and Glockenspiel. xD It's mainly just drabble to be honest, but I had to post it online so we could all judge :') It's boring and nothing much happens, but I just loved the description and all the emotions in it :') It's set just after Deathly Hallows, just after the last chapter before the 'Seventeen Years Later' chapter. :) Enjoy ~ evermore kisses


Requiem


Harry ran through the crowd, his heart beating fast in his chest with a loud thumping that was competition enough for the roaring noise of excitement, disbelief, and tears that surrounded him like the world was pressing down on his very shoulders. All that he wanted to do, all that he needed to do, was take her in his arms, pull her against his chest, and never let her go. Bodies pressed tight against him, hands slapping him gallantly on his back, smiles being shot in his direction, but none of those seemed to make a difference any more. Only one thing mattered to him now, one girl, one beating heart, one pair of dark brown eyes, tears dripping silently from them as they searched the expanse of bodies, both living and dead, for the one boy that she loved with all of her soul. Hair falling over his bright green eyes, Harry pushed hard against the crowd, ignoring the whoops of joy and raised palms that were welcoming him to slam his own hand into. If only she would turn around, if only her perfect face would turn in the direction of his own, beautiful despite the grief, pain, and horror that she was going through. If only she turned, then she would know how much she meant to him, she would know that everything was going to be okay now; everything. For she was his everything, as he was hers.

Nothing mattered any more, not the inordinate amount of injuries, not the shrieks of desperation as people mourned over the loss of their loved ones, not even those that she herself mourned for. As long as they had each other, everything else would slot into place around them. Love conquers all, and it was that exact sentiment that had lead Harry to his own success, a success that he wouldn't be happy that he had completed until he held her once more, until he wiped the glimmering tears from her eyes and let her sob in his arms, protecting her from everything but the pain that he knew was consuming her, the pain that he was certain that he would soon be feeling himself at the loss of so many.

Time seemed to be stuck in slow motion, his feet not moving fast enough as he shoved his way through the mass of people, his heart the only thing that appeared to be moving with a high enough pace. It was almost as though everyone was crowding around him, eager to get a good enough look at the Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One, the boy who had indeed finally rid the wizarding world of Lord Voldemort, once and for all. But still, he pushed on, desperation in his eyes like no one had ever seen before, a desperation that suddenly caused everyone in his path to move from his way. All that Harry Potter wanted was right in front of him, tantalisingly close but just out of reach, her red hair slightly dishevelled from the battles that he knew she must have gone through. A sharp stabbing hit him suddenly in the chest, pain from the realisation that he hadn't been there with her, hadn't stood by her side as she fought the battles between life and death themselves. But he was there for her now, and he always would be, until death do them part. His trainers hit the hard stone of the Great Hall with loud thuds, drumming on the ground, yet the sound was almost inaudible with the conundrum going on around him, the noises louder than that of a glockenspiel being hit repeatedly right in his very ears.

Ginny Weasley turned around, looking over her shoulder into the crowd, her long red hair flipping over her shoulder as she did so in a way that made her look like a hare stuck in the headlights of a fast approaching car, and in that moment, she probably did feel exactly that. Her eyes glittered with the tears of what was and what would never be, what she had lost yet what she had gained. Tears of sadness and happiness mixed together to drip down her face slowly, almost torturous to watch as they swam down her cheeks and past her lips, lips that were open slightly as she caught sight of Harry running towards her, a single tear sliding down his own face at the sight of her in such pain, such torture. His heart sank at the pained expression on her face, a cross between depression and hope, longing. Her brow furrowed a little as she stared at him, heart melting at the recognition of such determination in his face... determination to reach her? Her clothes were torn and dirty, splatters of blood on one sleeve of her jumper and it was ripped all up the same side, from the hem up to the armpit, large scorch marks covering her skirt and the remains of her jumper from hexes that had clearly just missed her, killing curses that it had been a miracle to dodge. Along the left side of her beautiful, if distorted, face was one long thin scratch, stretching down from her eyebrow to the bottom of her chin as though someone had turned to physical violence in all the catastrophe, rather than the power of spells. She smiled through her tears at him, her lips wobbling as she did so.

And then she was in his arms, throwing her arms around his neck, leaning against his strong chest as he pulled her close to him. His own arms wrapped tight around her back, Harry pulled her even closer to him, not wanting any part of him to be away from her; her sweet scent, her soft skin, her smooth hair that fell gently around her waist, brushing Harry's own skin slightly. He breathed her in, her beautiful scent that was a mixture of all the plants that grew in her home at The Burrow, from cauliflowers and other vegetables to the purest roses and lilies, mixed with the smell of talcum powder and a sweet, almost fruity, scent that left his nose longing for more of her. Ever single thing about the girl in his arms screamed three words – I and Love and You. Body shaking with the sobs that she could no longer hold in, Ginny's tears soaked through Harry's top, the material already clinging to him with sweat and mud, neither or which mattered as he held her in his grasp, stroking her red hair softly.

Lifting Ginny's chin so that he could look deep into her breathtaking eyes, Harry stared down at her, running one finger along the scar that appeared far worse than it truly was. Just the thought of anyone hurting her, least of all aiming to kill her, sent Harry's stomach in intricate knots and twists, a little frown pulling his eyebrows together as a tear dropped slowly from his own eye. The events that had just taken place before them was enough to make any grown man cry, and Harry had had the worst of it, all of the people having died to save him. As Ginny stood on her tip-toes, reaching up towards him and gently pressing her pink lips against the spot where his tear lay, a real smile pulled up on his lips, his own finger running across underneath Ginny's beautiful eyes in an attempt to rid them off the tears building up there, shining silver against the dark brown of her pupils. Throughout the hellish situation, Harry couldn't pull his gaze from the magical eyes before him, their colour more delicious than Honeydukes' best chocolate. Staring back, Ginny leant forwards, and then they were kissing. Her soft lips pressed gently against his in a way that he knew meant that she was seeking comfort; and his mind was cast back to the memories of the times they had spent together in secluded corners on the Hogwarts grounds alone together, feeling nothing but the love for one another as they held tightly on to what they had, to what they now had again.

Her lips felt better than anything Harry had ever known, tasted better than anything imaginable, and as he slowly kissed her back, his eyes fluttered shut in a moment of what felt like nothing less than safety. And, for once in his life, Harry Potter was safe; they all were. Voldemort was gone, and with him went the fear, the niggling in the back of peoples' minds that they could be his next victim. The greatest and most powerful wizard of the Dark Arts, stronger than anyone who had ever come and gone before him – even greater than Grindelwald, the dark wizard that Dumbledore himself had defeated – was no longer a terror to the world of both muggles and wizards, all thanks to the boy whose lips were locked tightly with the girl in his arms. He was free, they were all free. Free from the fear that had hovered over everyone for more than a year now, fear that had only grown stronger when the wizard in question had taken over the Ministry, taken over the ruling of the whole country and perhaps that of many others, free from the desperation for it all to end, and, Merlin, freedom felt good.

In that moment, lips pressed against those of Ginny Weasley, Harry's heart soared higher than the wings of any Hippogriff could take him, higher than even his old Firebolt could shoot. He felt higher than the clouds above him, higher than even the heaven in which he could only wish his parents were watching over him from, smiles on their faces, hands tightly clasped in each others. Lily and James Potter, his parents who had lost their own lives to save their son. Well, wouldn't they be proud. In fact, even Harry was proud, and he could almost sense Ginny's own pride rising up in her, bursting to get past the mourning for her brother Fred, and for their friends, Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks. Exactly how many dead Ginny knew, Harry couldn't be certain, but he knew he would stand by her side now, to make up for the time lost, to make up for not being with her when she needed him the most, to make up for allowing her to believe that he was dead. Still crying through the kiss, Ginny deepened it, almost begging for more, which Harry provided with eagerness, wishing that she would never pull away from their loving embrace. She was the girl he loved, the girl that he was in love with, the one girl who had ever penetrated his heart, and she would remain there forever, even after they parted ways. She would be the girl always on his mind, and for her, he would be the boy who gave her everything she desired, was always there for her by her side, and the one who would do anything to keep her as his own for the rest of time, even Ron couldn't argue with that.

Harry smiled against her lips as he lifted her off the ground, spinning her around, to which she pulled back from his lips and giggled, her tears no longer seeming of importance. Right in that moment, she was safe. She was with Harry. He was what mattered, and she playfully batted him on the shoulder to get him to put her down, feet safely back onto the hard floor. All around the room, she could feel the eyes of girls boring into her, envy, hatred and awe flashing through their eyes and minds at the sight in front of them, wishing that they were the girl in her place, that they were the girl to whom the Harry Potter had given his heart and soul completely and unconditionally. Well, booyah to them. Gently placing her back down onto her toes, still wrapped tightly in his arms, Harry placed one small kiss on Ginny's small nose, hearing the sighs around him as people laid eyes on such an adorable scene, a scene of insane love. Young love, hopeful and immune to the harsh reality of the world around them.

"I love you," Harry whispered, pressing his forehead against hers as he gazed into her wide eyes, wide with happiness, awe and loss, an odd mixture that would have suited her so much better if she was without the pain that she was experiencing. Ginny's eyes sparkled with what could have been simply the tears building up in them again, but what Harry hoped was joy. The latter was more likely as her lips pulled up into a huge smile at hearing the words off his lips for the first time, like butterscotch trickling into her mind, sweet and desirable, hot and sticky. Tilting her head sideways slightly, she pressed her forehead into his, eyes sparkling. "I love you too, Harry Potter," she whispered back, teasingly, to which he grinned at her, winking. Hearts soaring, tears in both sets of eyes, stomachs twisting in exotic acrobats with happiness, their lips pressed once more together, Ginny taking the lead in their own little dance. Everything else was forgotten in that moment, the pain, the heartache, the mourning for the dead, the joy at finally defeating Voldemort, and all they could feel, all they could think of, all they could hear, all they could smell, was one another. Ginny ignored the pain from her split lip as it moved with Harry's, ignored the knowledge that no doubt her parents were close by, her brothers just as near. She was Harry's, and Harry was hers, completely...finally.

Suddenly, all of her dreams since she had first laid eyes on the boy before her were coming true, from the very first moment she had seen him in the flesh when he turned up at their house, twelve years of age, she being dressed merely in pyjamas at the young, innocent age of eleven, from that moment she had felt a growing yearning for the boy who called himself Harry Potter, and it had only gotten bigger as the years wore on. Having saved her life in her first year at Hogwarts, saving both her brother's life and that of Sirius Black in her second year, having fought hard just to bring home the body of Cedric Diggory and showing bravery and courage in her third year, teaching her and helping her, saving them all in the Department of Mysteries in her fourth year, aiding them with the Felix Felicis and helping them to stay alive in her fifth year, and then finally, tonight, offering himself up as a sacrifice to save the rest of Hogwarts was by far the most reckless act of all, but it wouldn't stop Ginny from loving him – nothing could – and all of these acts had made her love him all the more.

Again, Harry pulled away, thankful for the girl in front of him more than anything that he owned, yet just as much as his two best friends and companions, Ron and Hermione. All he wanted to do was look at her, just look; look at every single detail and burn it into his mind so that it stayed there, lasting forever and never leaving his memory. Never did he want to forget this moment, a moment that he wanted to share with their children, and with no doubt that he would. After all, Ginny was the one for him, he could just feel it, racing through his blood, deep in his soul and imprinted onto his heart. She was perfect, she was beautiful, she was brave, funny, clever, witty... and she was all his. Pushing a strand of dark hair off her face, Harry realised that he had never before seen anyone so breathtaking, not in the whole seventeen years of his life. Not even a Veela came close to the beauty of the girl blinking up at him, lips slightly red and puffy from their kissing. For the first time in what was too long, Harry felt a sudden wave of happiness overflow in him, bubbling out in a laugh, his heart beating twice the speed of usual just by being close to the girl who owned it, now and forever. He took one of her hands in his, intertwining his fingers around her smaller, perfect ones, lifting up her hand and dropping a single sweet kiss on it, which lingered there, Ginny's skin feeling as though it was burning in delight at the touch, her cheeks themselves burning a pretty shade of red on her pale skin.

"Let's go home," Ginny whispered, shrinking into the arm held strong around her waist. Harry knew what she really meant, the pain from staring at the bodies of those which she knew so well, those that she never would know, and those that she loved, apparent in her pale face. Nodding down at her, she grinned up at him through the wet tears dripping slowly down her cheeks, tears that he caught by pressing his thumb against them. "After all, I better get you away from all of these girls, I'm sure you're even more of a studmuffin now," she continued, her smile faltering as she thought back to the battles, the screams, the bloodshed. In any other situation, Harry would have laughed, but with the small girl, so fragile and scared cuddled up into his arms, he even had to force a smile to come onto his lips, a smile that turned truthful at the thought of everything being better now, about his whole life that he had left, worry free, to spend with Ginny. Not that he had a clue what a studmuffin was.

"Everything's going to change now, isn't it?" Ginny asked, gazing up at him. And, indeed, everything did.

THE END