In the heart-

Ginny/Harry post Battle of Hogwarts (Ginny POV)

In the heart of my family, I sit and lay my head on Mum's shoulder. Though the Great Hall of Hogwarts is filled with every sort of noise, from sobs to laughter, my family is quiet. Every Weasley is standing or sitting nearer each other than usual. A cold, hard strand of grief binds us tight. Suddenly, I feel weary, and long to be a small child again, so I could be held, really cradled by my mother or father. I wonder if I'll ever feel that safe, peaceful warmth again. It's easy to believe that I won't.

I look at George, and think that he looks so strange without Fred standing next to him. There's an empty space there. Though I could tell the twins apart as well as Mum and Dad, I never really thought about it before… the fact that they were almost always next to each other. I wonder if George unconsciously leaves room for Fred by his side, or if he does it on purpose. I also wonder if the rest of us do it on purpose. Charlie, close by Bill and Fleur, is standing a few feet away from George.

This will be hardest on George. Fred was his partner in work and play. While most people saw Fred as the instigator of the twins' pranks, or at least the most mischievous of them, they didn't realize how much George stoked Fred's ingenuity. The two men bounced ideas off each other constantly. Will George will talk to himself more now? Will he feel as though his voice is diminished by half, without his twin duplicating his funny remarks? Will he know how to finish his own sentences? His heart is shattered. Will his mind follow? I force my thoughts from that dark path.

Hearts. I feel as if my family is one big shattered heart now, with shards tiny as dust scattered on the ground. Fred, and our friends… Lupin, Tonks… all dead. And, for a short time we thought Harry was dead, too.

Harry. My heartbeat seems to stutter as I remember believing that his heart had stopped.

I don't see him, do not see a throng of people that could have him trapped in their midst. Ron and Hermione are gone, too. Well, they must need time to discuss what happened tonight. I'm sure that Harry feels that he owes them answers. Does he feel like he owes me answers? Does he care for me like he did before he left? A shiver runs down my spine as I try to dismiss doubt.

I believe that he still cares. I saw it in his eyes earlier. But, this is not the best time to indulge ourselves in that way. Is it?

I look at Mum and Dad. They both look older. Dad asks quietly, "do you want to return to the Burrow to sleep, Molly?"

Mum looks shocked as she shakes her head. "I can't leave him alone, Arthur." She looks at Fred's body, and continues to shake her head.

George speaks quietly, tears still in his voice, "he won't be alone." He turns away and moves closer to where Fred's body lays. Percy follows without a word, just giving Mum's shoulder a gentle squeeze as he passes her. She touches his hand, and almost smiles through her tears. Fate gave him back just before taking Fred away. I'm finding it easier to forgive Percy than I expected… especially as I look at Fred's closed eyes.

I'm so tired, so cold. My toes feel icy. I think about the hours ahead. My brothers will all act as an honor guard. Should I join them? I yawn, and feel the need for sleep shudder through my body. If stress is really more tiring than exertion, I ought to drop unconscious immediately. I've had more than enough of both today. But I don't want to sleep on the floor or bench next to Fred's cold body. His spark, his spirit is not there anymore. I feel evil for admitting it, even to myself, but I want to sleep in a bed if I can. Someday I want to feel warm again.

Mum asks vaguely, "has anyone been to see Andromeda?" She looks at Tonks and Lupin.

Dad looks at Mum with trepidation. "Molly? I went there earlier. Don't you remember?"

Mum jerks up at his words and tears fill her eyes. "Yes. Of course. It's just too much, Arthur. That poor baby! My poor baby… my boy! My boy!" Suddenly, her quiet control is swept away and she cries out, "It isn't supposed to be this way! A mother shouldn't outlive…" Her body shakes with sobs.

Professor McGonagall rushes over and pulls my mother into her arms. "Molly, oh, Molly," she murmurs, as tears fill her own eyes. I begin to cry freely as the grief of the stalwart women of my life overwhelms me.

I feel my daddy pull me to him as my tears flow. His silent tears wet my hair as he holds me close. I shake with grief and cold. I'm guilt-ridden as I feel overwhelming relief that Harry is not dead, too. I sway against my daddy. He murmurs brokenly, "I'm here, my Ginny. I won't lie and say that all is well. But, we're alive and He Who… Voldemort…Riddle… is dead, and our world can… begin to mend now." Behind him, I see George react to these words, looking down at Fred and shaking his head in disbelief.

My mum comes closer to me, and I feel ashamed of my neediness until I see that looking after me helps her. There is some color in her face again as she fusses over me. Her voice has a ghost of normalcy in it as she says, "Ginny needs to go home. She's exhausted, and no wonder!" She runs a hand over my forehead as though checking for fever.

I smile wanly. "I don't want to be so far from the family, even now. Can't I just go to my bed here?" I spoke without even thinking, but I realize that I want to sleep in my bunk again. I want to sleep there knowing that evil has been swept from Hogwarts, as well as the entire Wizarding world.

Professor McGonagall turns to call out, "Hagrid! Do the tower sleeping rooms still stand?"

Hagrid nods through his sobbing, mutters that Gryffindor does, and turns back to look over Remus and Tonks again. I hear him muttering about being an orphan himself, and know that Teddy Lupin will have the same kind of friend in Hagrid that Harry has always had. Despite knowing better, I look around for Harry again. He's nowhere to be seen.

Moments later, my Mum walks to Gryffindor Tower with me and insists on seeing me to my bed there. No one could doubt that she is all the guard I could need after what she did to Bellatrix. Despite the light of day, it's bitterly cold in my room. Mum sparks the fire, and she tucks blankets over me, and then warms them with her wand. She sits by the bed and softly sings an old song to me until she thinks I'm asleep. I know that in her mind's eye she also sings to Fred. I hold back the tears as long as I can. I wait until she creeps from the room before breaking into sobs again. I feel nearly sick from crying. I've never been prone to emotional outbursts. But, today is a day for them.

Images run through my mind- Fred and George laughing together. Fred's body, lifeless. That awful moment when I first realized that BOTH Tonks and Remus were dead. Tonks, making her nose shift to that of a pig. I choke a laugh through the tears. I remember Remus bragging about his baby boy. Harry, seemingly lifeless, as that evil man gloated and lied that Harry had tried to flee. Harry would never flee. The noble prat would die for every student at Hogwarts before he'd flee! Percy's helpless sobs as he brought Fred into the Hall, and the look on Mum's face as she howled like a wounded animal. Mum killing Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry defeating… Tom Riddle. My face burns as I remember Tom Riddle as I "knew" him those months when I'd first come to Hogwarts. My helplessness and confusion. I remember writing in that diary under the covers of this bed. I remember waking from nothingness in that Chamber to Harry's reassurance that Riddle was gone, the diary was dead. Harry defeated him then, too.

Oh, Harry!

My eyes are dry now as I try to absorb everything. It's too much. I hardly know what to believe. I struggle not to fantasize that Fred is just joking. My subconscious desires conjure up an image in my mind anyway. Fred, jumping up, and laughing at us all for falling for his prank… Me, beating him senseless for scaring us so badly, and taking another joke too far… I shake my head, chasing the phantom away and holding to the cold hard truth. But it's difficult, given the grief, and the fact that I thought Harry was dead for several long moments. Really just three or four minutes, I suppose, seeing his body laying still in Hagrid's grasp. In those minutes, I saw my dreams of a life with Harry crumble to ash along with him. My heart shattered. I felt as though my body would sink to the ground, were it not for my dad's support.

I feel a stab of fear, and sit straight up in my bed. What if that's just a fantasy, too? What if I'm just not accepting that Harry Potter died? What is real?

I clutch the bedclothes tightly. Though I'm exhausted, and hover right at the edge of sleep, my heart beats as though I just ran a race. I focus on my heartbeat and hear it gradually slow. But I'm awake. I throw back the covers, and shuffle quietly out of my room, wrapping one blanket around my shivering body as I go. I go down the stairs to the common room- walk silently past Neville (sword by his side), asleep on a sofa there- and make my way up the stairs to the boys' rooms, to Harry's room.

I stop in the doorway, almost smile to myself, and whisper, "my hero." He's asleep on top of the covers of his four poster bed. He's fully dressed, still wears his glasses, and has part of a sandwich falling out of his hand. I stand and look at him for a long time. I find that the urge to look after someone quiets me the way it did my mother earlier. I step closer, gently take the sandwich and set it on the plate by his bed, and then remove his glasses, and set them there as well. He murmurs, and rolls onto his side.

I slide onto his bed and snuggle in behind him, pulling my blanket over us both. My arm goes around his waist up to his chest, and I find the proof that I need. My hand rests over Harry Potter's heart, and I feel the proof that he lives, proof in that steady heartbeat. He's warm. He lives. I grow warm from the heat of him, and begin to relax.

It seems only seconds later that I wake. It's dark outside, so I must have slept some. I look into Harry's eyes. He smiles, and murmurs, "Hi!" My hand is still over his heart, and I savor the beats. He lays his head back, and I move so that my head is on his chest. I listen to his heart.

"I needed to feel your heart beating. I needed proof that you were really alive," my voice rasps as I explain. I keep my gaze averted so he won't see the tears that spring to my eyes. I've hardly ever let him see me cry since after we left the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry groans, "I'm sorry, Ginny. I really am. I thought playing dead was the only way I could get out of the Forest. It was horrible… hearing you call my name…" He squeezes me to him with the arm he has behind my back.

A wave of anger washes over me as I push up on one arm, "did you sacrifice yourself, Harry? Go in there to give up your life? Throw away any possible future for us? Is that why you went there? Is that why you went to him? Were you so caught up in responsibility for everyone else…?!" I'm sitting up now and almost yelling. I feel really stupid as my words trail off. "Sorry." He WAS the Chosen One, after all. He WAS the only one who could defeat Voldemort. I'm embarrassed as my eyes tear up yet again. "I'm sorry."

Harry replies quickly, "No. Don't be. I know how I would feel, if I thought you were dead. I'd want to be dead. Not to say that I think I know your feelings..." He looks panicked and unsure of himself. "I was the Chosen One, not the all-knowing one." He smiles slightly, hoping to diffuse my mercurial reactions. He reaches out and gently runs a finger under one of my swollen eyes. Then he looks down, away from me, as he murmurs in a quieter tone, "I'm so sorry about Fred…"

I take his hand and kiss his fingers, rousing to wakefulness now. "Yeah." Platitudes run through my mind, but I settle on unvarnished truth. "It's awful." I look away from him, then back. "It's hard to believe. Poor George!" I shake my head and mutter, "Fred was so full of life! It doesn't seem possible…" Then I take in his expression and add, "but don't act like it's your fault. You didn't cast the spell that killed Fred! And you HAD to do whatever it is you needed to do… to make it so that you could kill Voldemort, Tom Riddle I mean." I shiver involuntarily as I remember the months when Tom Riddle controlled me.

Harry pulls me closer, and wraps his arms around me tightly. "It felt good when we reduced Voldemort to Tom Riddle. It felt good to rid the world of him, once and for all." The way he looks at me, I'm almost convinced that Harry knows my thoughts. He continues, "I'm glad he can't hurt you again." His fingers brush up and down my back. He kisses my head sweetly.

I look up at him. "He can't hurt any of us." I look into his eyes for a long moment, "I didn't have much time to think about what your death meant, but I believed that the future I want had died."

Harry leans down to kiss me, and pulls back to look me in the eye. He's serious and certain, the look in his eyes blazing and hard, "I love you, Ginny."

I savor his words, and his kiss, and whisper, "I love you, too." He smiles a bit. I brush his hair out of his eyes, "your hair has gotten long."

He shrugs, "didn't see many barbers on the run…"

I fight back catty comments about Hermione having been with him. I worried about their feelings for one another, changing with the passing of the months, far more than I'd ever care to admit to anyone, especially Harry. If I'd been of age in time, I would have forced my way into their adventures. I couldn't help resent Hermione's going. But, I saw yesterday that Hermione and Ron have realized that they're in love. Still, the sting of being left behind stays with me. Holding to my rational instincts, I ask instead, "what did you see? What did you do?" I think that Harry might need for me to accept all he's been through, all he's done. I hope so.

He looks at me steadily, and leans further back against the pillow, pulling me with him as he begins to tell me all I want to know.

It takes a few moments for Harry to relax into his tale, and while he talks I prop myself up so that I can see his expression. He's the same person he was before, but I can see the weight of all he's been through in his eyes, even before he explains it fully. I do my best to hold back my reactions and let Harry talk without interruption. Occasionally, I can't stop myself from grasping his hand or caressing him… or resting my hand over his heart, so I can feel its reassuring beat. I'm so grateful that he's here to tell me. I'm glad that he trusts me enough to share all that he does.

When he reaches the end of his tale, I move up so that I can pull his head to my chest. I wrap my arms around him tightly. He lets out a contented sigh, and murmurs, "your heartbeat sounds good to me, too, Ginny." He shivers slightly, and I know it's not from cold, but from remembered fears for our safety. Tears come to my eyes again, but I can believe that a time will come when the tears will stop.

We're still too young for me to think this, but I know that Harry and I will have our own family someday. I press my hand over Harry's chest, and again savor the feeling of his heart, alive and beating towards our future.

fin