Hey guys!

So, for those of you who read my PJO stories, I mentioned yesterday in an author's note that I was thinking of possibly writing some Harry Potter stuff. I didn't get much feedback at all, but I decided to do it anyway, because why not?

I've had the idea of this Harry/Ginny conversation in my head for a while now. I know there are probably quite a few stories like this out there, but I wrote it anyway. This is set during the summer after Deathly Hallows.

I am American and therefore speak American English, so I am not super familiar with British slang and euphemisms and stuff, but with a little help from Google, I have done my best to make this as accurate as possible. Enjoy!

"What were they like?" Her voice was quiet in the still night, breaking Harry from his mostly peaceful thoughts.

"Who?" He turned his head toward her, looking away from the starry night above to meet her eyes. They lay side by side in the grass outside the Burrow, hidden behind a copse of trees not far from the river that ran through the Weasleys' land. The night was relatively warm and the dark sky was clear and easily visible above. It had become something of a habit for them these last few weeks, as Harry had been staying with them since the end of the war and, for the time being, would continue to do so, to sit outside under the stars at the end of the day, enjoying the remaining summer nights while they lasted. There was just over a week left before Ginny would be returning to Hogwarts for her seventh year and Harry would begin work at the Auror Department, resulting in a rather long separation neither was looking forward to and about which they spoke as little as possible.

She moved to look at him too, shifting her head off of his shoulder where she'd been resting. It was dark, the light of the moon and stars the only illumination they had. Her eyes glinted in the low light, devoid of their usual chocolate color in the dimness. Her voice was soft but earnest when she answered, "Your family. The Muggles."

Harry blinked, taken aback at the question. "Why do you want to know?" His tone matched hers. There wasn't a trace of the hostility his word choice may have suggested. Of course, his stomach dropped slightly at the thought of discussing the Dursleys, but he was more curious at her wanting to know, as she'd never asked about them before.

Ginny shrugged. "You never talk about them. From the hints you've dropped, I figure they weren't the nicest of people, but…" She trailed off with a shrug. "You don't have to tell me." Except it was clear from the undertone in her voice that he did, in fact, have to because she wanted to know. And he had promised after the war not to keep any secrets anymore. Not to mention that he didn't know that he didn't want to tell her; a part of him actually did. Because if he couldn't trust Ginny with that sort of information, who could he trust?

"What do you want to know?" he asked, altering his earlier response.

"Just…" She shrugged, "Tell me about them. What was it like growing up with Muggles?"

"It was terrible." He sat up as he spoke, so he now sat, staring at his hands in his lap, settling into the point. Ginny, apparently taken by surprise at his sudden change in position, remained on her back for a second before slowly sitting up too. "The Dursleys were the most normal people I've ever seen." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "And I don't mean that at all in a good way." He looked straight ahead then and continued; "They didn't like it when people did anything outside their idea of normal. If you dressed a little too colorfully, or talked too loudly, or didn't blend in with everyone else well enough, they didn't like you. It didn't matter if you were a good person or not. They didn't really stop judging you long enough to find out anyway." Harry knew his voice had taken on quite the bitter edge, but he couldn't help himself and didn't really care. "So naturally… well, you've seen the wizarding world."

Ginny nodded. "Colorful, loud, and conspicuous is basically its definition."

"Exactly. Our kind was the worst of all in their eyes. You could stoop no lower. And even if I was technically family, I was one of them, so I was just as much a freak as the rest." Ginny, an unmistakable anger flashing momentarily across her face, took his hand in hers. "I think they were convinced they were doing me a favor by letting me live there under their roof, though they really didn't have much choice by the end of it." He met her eyes again. "You know about the protection I had there because Aunt Petunia was my mum's sister, right?" Ginny nodded. "I would have left ages earlier than I did if not for the fact that Dumbledore wanted me there for it. I'd have lived with your family, or gone anywhere really. Almost anywhere would have been better."

"Did they mistreat you?" Ginny asked, her voice quiet, like she really wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Harry gave a dry laugh. "They ignored me usually. For days on end. Didn't speak to me at all except to yell at me to cook a meal or clean up Dudley's latest mess. I guess the closest thing I could compare it to is the way some wizards treat house elves. The kind Hermione gets her knickers in a twist over."

"Like the Malfoys with Dobby? You're not serious," Ginny asked, "Are you? It couldn't be that bad?"

"Not precisely like that, no. Dobby used to get beaten for no reason at all." Harry stopped himself before he could go on to say that Uncle Vernon usually didn't care enough to strike him unless he had some reason or another, even if it was small.

"But you didn't."

"Er, sometimes," he admitted, not wanting to lie to her, "Usually my uncle was too apathetic to do much more than yell loudly though. It was Dudley I had to worry about, really. His favorite pastime was beating me up, and I wasn't the only one, unfortunately." Beside him, Ginny looked absolutely horrified. Harry sighed. "Ginny, please don't look at me like that. This is why I don't talk about it. And I'm not there anymore and never have to go there again, so it doesn't matter anymore."

"No, no, it's not that," Ginny said quickly, visibly working to soften her expression, "It's just, I mean-wow." Harry said nothing but continued staring straight ahead. If he looked closely, he could just make out the bend of the river through the darkness. "Harry, every summer," she said after a silent moment, "You were always so skinny…"

"I, er… skipped a few meals. It was a pretty regular… punishment."

"Merlin," she breathed, more to herself than anything else.

"Look, Ginny," Harry began, suddenly on the defensive and speaking rather quickly, "It really wasn't that bad so long as I kept quiet and did what they asked. I mean, it wasn't great, but it could have been worse. At least I got a room eventually and-"

"Harry, do not defend them," Ginny cut him off, "You didn't have-" She broke off herself, her brain apparently catching up with her words and at the same moment realization sparked in her eyes, Harry realized his mistake and instantly wished he could take the words back. "What do you mean, 'eventually?' You don't mean to tell me you didn't have a room at one point, do you?"

"Er…"

"Where did you sleep then?" she demanded, half shouting now, "Shared a room with that awful cousin of yours?"

"Er, no, actually. I had, er, a cupboard…"

"A cupboard?"

"A cupboard under the stairs."

Ginny blinked, looking incredulous. "You mean like the one in the Burrow that Mum keeps cleaning products in? You're joking." Harry said nothing and Ginny seemed to grow more incensed. "For how long?!"

"Just-er-ten years or so."

"TEN YEARS?"

"Ginny, be quiet, please! Your brothers are going to come storming out here thinking I'm taking advantage of you against your will or something and skin me alive!"

Ginny didn't respond or even miss a beat to repeat, in a forced whisper this time, "Ten years?"

Harry sighed, resigned. "Yes. They moved me into Dudley's second bedroom after my first Hogwarts letter arrived addressed to Mr. H. Potter, The Cupboard Under the Stairs, 4 Privet Drive, and they just about lost the plot."

Despite herself, Ginny laughed at that. "Serves them right," she said ruthlessly before sighing, growing serious again. "Harry, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," Harry told her, squeezing the hand she still held gently. "I'm not. It was miserable with them, sure, but, really, I've been through much worse. And they're not my family anyway, not really." He held her gaze steadily. "You are. And Ron and Hermione. And the rest of your family. And Teddy. I mean, what good is blood, really, when I can have all of you instead?" Ginny smiled and Harry, glad to see it, returned the gesture. "You're just as much my family as they are. More, actually, since none of you have ever locked me in a cupboard and made me go hungry."

She snorted. "As if my mum would ever allow you to go anywhere close to hungry." The two were quiet again for a minute before Ginny spoke up again. "How can they just not care about you like that?"

Harry hesitated before answering. "I'm not sure they don't care completely. Not Aunt Petunia, at least. Uncle Vernon, I'd wager, couldn't care less if you paid him to, but Aunt Petunia would get this look about her sometimes, like she maybe cared more than she let on."

"Just not enough to stop her despicable family or herself from abusing you, apparently."

"Don't call it that," he said quietly.

"That's what it was, Harry."

"Maybe. But saying so makes me the victim, and I won't be labeled that at the hand of those people. I refuse. After Voldemort, I absolutely refuse."

Ginny was quiet for a moment. She looked at him with respect in her eyes and he knew she agreed with that deduction. "Okay."

Harry shrugged noncommittally. "And anyway, Dudley, believe it or not, there may be hope for yet."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, right before they left Privet Drive to go into hiding, Uncle Vernon said something like I was nothing more than a waste of space when Dudley asked if I was going with them." Ginny tensed beside him again but he continued on. "Dudley then felt obligated to let me know that he didn't think I was a waste of space."

"Oh, how touching," Ginny drawled sardonically.

"Actually, it was rather heartfelt, for Dudley. It may have been the first time he's ever expressed concern for another human being in his life."

"Finally growing up, is he?"

"Maybe," Harry said, this answer devoid of the sarcasm Ginny's was drenched in. "Maybe I'll write to him sometime."

"Don't rush it, Harry. He was still awful to you. They all were. The git more than deserved the Ton Tongue Toffee F-Fred and George left him."

"I know," Harry replied, not dissuaded. He hadn't missed the way her voice trembled over Fred's name, but didn't say anything. It would take time.

"You're far too noble for your own good. You know that, right?" Ginny asked sarcastically.

Harry smirked. "I had heard that, yes."

Ginny shifted abruptly then so her body, suddenly very close, was facing his, and then she kissing him wonderfully. Harry all too willingly complied, his brain fogging until he remembered nothing but Ginny and her flowery scent all around him. "You're amazing, you know," she whispered when they broke apart a few minutes later.

"What?" he asked vaguely, his wits not yet recovered from the snogging session.

"You are," she insisted, as if he'd contradicted her, "I mean, you always have been, with everything you've been through. It was never fair. But knowing all that…" She shook her head and looked into his eyes. "You literally had no decent example for years. I mean, not until…"

"Until your dad."

"Well, yeah. And you were, what, twelve when you met him? Eleven years you went through life with no one but those horrible people, and still you managed to become a decent human being. You're kind, and good, and love others so much, when you'd have been perfectly entitled to turn out as heartless as Draco Malfoy or your god-awful cousin. I mean, you did that all on your own. I just…" She trailed off, shaking her head.

"That's not anything most anyone else wouldn't do. I mean, you'd probably do the same-"

"I don't think I would, Harry," she said, shaking her head again, this time in denial. "You've seen how like my parents I am, how similar I am to my mum when I'm angry. I grew up watching them and became like them. If I'm a good person it's because they both are. You grew up seeing the Dursleys prejudiced and cruel, and became the opposite in every way." She reached up and ran a hand gently through his hair. "I think you give me far too much credit and yourself far too little."

Harry didn't say anything. He couldn't think of anything to say. He supposed, looking at it like that, he could see Ginny's point, but he hadn't ever really given the topic much thought. He'd just seen how horrible Uncle Vernon was and had never wanted to be anything of the sort. His parents had been good-no, great people, he'd always known that, even before he'd really known anything about them, and he'd simply worked to emulate that, to make them proud. It wasn't nearly as impressive as Ginny seemed to think.

"It's true," she persisted when he didn't reply. "Trust me."

"Promise me something," Harry said then, half in an attempt to change the subject. "Don't, er, act on any of the stuff I've told you. I'd hate to see you expelled in your last year for hexing a pair of Muggles. They aren't worth that, believe me."

Ginny smirked. "Don't worry, Harry. I'm not going to seek them out if that's what you mean, though part of me would really love to. But I should mention that if I ever do accidentally come face to face with any of them, I will not be responsible for any action I may or may not take."

Despite himself, Harry smiled. He couldn't help but savor the thought of Ginny, fierce and beautiful in her righteous anger, giving the Dursley's a piece of her mind, and the look on Uncle Vernon's face as she did so. Honestly, he would probably pay good money to see such a thing. "And in that case, I, like the responsible Auror I am, will be sure to look the other way."

Ginny's answering smile was slightly mischievous. "Glad to hear it."

Harry laughed and then glanced behind him toward the Burrow. The lit windows spaced unevenly along the crooked structure were the only parts of it visible from where they sat. They'd been outside for quite a while. He sighed and looked back at Ginny. "It's getting late," he said rather reluctantly, "We should probably go inside before your brothers really do come looking."

"Let them," she replied flippantly, reaching forward and removing his glasses, setting them down a few feet from where they sat, before wrapping her arms lazily around his neck. Without them, everything had gone quite blurry, save for Ginny, who was close enough to him now for him to make out quite a few details, even in the dark. "We only have a few more days before I leave, Potter, and I want to get my money's worth out of you before then."

Harry started to reply, but before he could say much more than "Er-", Ginny had leaned even closer and they were kissing again. Time and space lost all meaning and, he decided, quite easily, that a few more minutes couldn't possibly hurt.

Thank you for reading! There will likely be more where that came from, so keep your eyes open! Reviews are always appreciated.