Song to play: Tears and Laughter — Tall tree 6Ft. Man

Ginny /

Ginny breathed quickly as the dust fell in the new morning sunlight. It could have been a lovely morning, peaceful, even. Small, deep breaths. Less than a second - then the roaring. Her vision came in flashes: A wand spinning, the blur of robes, the gleaming red of her own terror, Harry. Harry, standing there, a wand in each hand, eyes fixed on the falling figure of Voldemort, centered her. And Ginny ran for him as if she would lose everything. There would be a funeral, there would be grieving, there would be scars. The only thing that mattered right now was that Harry's hands were in her hair, his lips were on hers. Chaos spun around them in an incredible blur.

Ginny let him go, let him be with the others who needed him for the time being. "The perks of being with a damn hero," she thought as she hugged a sobbing professor McGonagall. Everything was in a haze of grief, happiness, and the actual fog of war. She found herself, an hour later, sitting with her exhausted head resting on her mother's shoulder. Molly kept one hand stroking Ginny's hair, and the other stroking Fred's. It was all wrong. She had never seen such loss on George's face. Ginny had always read that the dead appeared to be sleeping. "Ridiculous," she thought. Anyone who knew Fred knew that he slept on his side, and he talked in his sleep. Ron used to make fun of him for it; it was the only dirt he could find on the twins, who somehow had so much on him. She closed her eyes.

"Ooh, look, a Blibbering Humdinger!" yelled Luna from somewhere by the giant windows. Ginny opened her eyes and looked around just in time to see Harry disappear under his cloak, unnoticed by everyone else. Seconds later, Ron and Hermione, who had been huddled with their arms around each other, stood up and left the Great Hall. Ginny knew that Harry was with them. She would look for him later, she knew. They would be together, and, eventually, everything would return to normal. Even as she thought the words, she realized that they were untrue. What was normal? None of them had ever experienced a life devoid of fear, pain, and loss. "Well," she thought, looking out the windows at the new sun, "we'll just have to make a new normal."

Harry /

Harry awoke in a blur before the reality of the day set in. A glance at the watch Mrs. Weasley had given him, seemingly years ago, told him that it was 5:30 pm. He must have slept through the day, something that he found he did not regret at all. He hadn't had a good sleep in far too long. Harry sat up and swung his legs off of the bed and through the thick curtains. They collided painfully with a large object next to the curtained four-poster, and one of Uncle Vernon's choicest swear words slipped loudly through his gritted teeth.

"Oi! There are ladies present!" came Ron's voice from somewhere beyond the curtain. He heard Hermione laugh. Holding his shin and pulling the curtain aside, perhaps more violently than he normally would have, Harry glared at Ron, who was sitting cross-legged with Hermione on his own bed, playing Wizard's Chess. Hermione seemed to be getting better, he noted. Either that, or Ron was letting her win. The source of his pain, however, was a large armchair, one of Ron's favorites from the common room downstairs, which contained the sleeping form of a slender red-haired figure, instantly recognizable as Ginny. Harry felt strong emotions stir in his chest. Ron looked alarmed.

"Don't cry, mate. There's been enough of that from Hermione already." Harry and Hermione both rolled their eyes.

"How long has she been here?" he asked, nodding to Ginny.

"About three hours," said Hermione. "She was awake for about an hour, and then I think she started pretending to be asleep so that Ron would shut up about her being here. ("What?" said Ron.) I think she really fell asleep shortly after that." Hermione laughed at Ron's incredulous expression. "Checkmate!"

"Very funny."

"No, really, Ronald. Checkmate."

"What?" Ron was aghast. Apparently he hadn't been losing on purpose, thought Harry, chuckling. He had never been a very good actor. Harry laughed uproariously, suddenly the situation seemed very funny. Hermione looked alarmed, and Ron threw a sock at Harry. It landed feebly at his feet, which made him laugh harder.

"Damn you, Harry, stop laughing!" yelled Ron. Harry stopped, and a serious expression came over his face.

"Ron."

"Yeah?"

"Don't swear, mate. There are ladies present." Hermione took one look at Ron's infuriated face and burst out laughing, too. Ron launched himself at Harry and tripped spectacularly, almost knocking over Ginny's chair. She woke with a start.

"Ron! What the bloody hell are you doing?" she shrieked as he lay sprawled on the carpet. Hermione and Harry laughed harder, and Ginny joined in once she saw Ron laying pathetically on the rug. Harry hadn't felt this amused since he had sat with Hermione and Ron on the banks of a lake, watching the dragon from Gringotts soar nearby. Even then, their laughter had still been underlined with fear. He didn't remember the last time that he had felt truly carefree and happy. He reached for Ginny's hand and squeezed it. She turned to face him and smiled with joy and mirth in her deep, brown eyes. At her smile, the emotions in his chest threatened to break through some sort of dam. He wasn't even sure what he was feeling. Why her happiness was the most important thing, the most amazing thing to him. His confusion must have shown in his eyes, for suddenly Ginny looked confused, too.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said. "I think I'm just figuring something out." She smiled again and ran her hand through his hair. They looked at each other. The atmosphere in the room subtly changed.

"Well!" said Hermione loudly, as if to remind Harry of their presence. "I fancy a walk. Ron does too. We'll see you two later, then!" she said, smiling to herself. Ron, clueless as ever, gaped at her.

"Wha?" he said, as she dragged him to the door. "Where are we walking? Hermione?" And then they were gone, Ron's protests fading behind the closing of the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Hermione sure knows how to pick, them, doesn't she," Ginny said. Harry laughed nervously. They hadn't been alone together since right before he left on his dark journey for horcruxes. He wondered if she thought about that sunny morning as often as he did. They sat in silence for a minute, and strangely, Harry found, it wasn't at all awkward. She was the only person that made him feel whole simply by sitting with him, here at the end of all of the fear.

"Harry…" she said slowly, after a time. He turned, intending to ask "What? or Yeah?", but the question died on his lips. She was very close to him. Very, very close. He could count her freckles, and he found that he almost wanted to. He wanted to know everything about her. She looked into his eyes and he saw something there, something he had seen at the Burrow, something he didn't quite understand, but that he felt. Her lips were inches from his own.

Ginny kissed him slowly, deeply. This was a different kind of kiss. It was urgent, but not the kind of urgent that made him think it might be the last time he ever kissed her. It was not like at the Burrow. They had nothing to lose. Harry could have stayed here forever.

There was a crack from downstairs. Ginny's lips, moving against his own, froze. They looked at each other and then slowly walked to the staircase leading to the boy's dormitory. Together, they looked down.

"If this is Ron, I'll throttle him," said Ginny, simply but dangerously, before she grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him down the stairs with her.