A/N: Let me start by stating that I've loved the H/G pairing from the moment I've heard of it. It could have something to do with discovering the Potterverse as a happily married adult. But, somehow, I am wholeheartedly convinced (Rowling's tweets be damned) that it takes a woman as steadfast, resilient, and witty as Ginevra Weasley to successfully handle being the wife of The Boy Who Lived.

I loved how she moved on from Harry in canon only to have him realize his feelings for her. I think she is every part his equal and his true soulmate.

That said, I did have quibbles about how the only way anyone in Hogwarts seemed to ever find out they like someone is intense jealousy over another person. Ron needed Victor, Hermione needed Lavender, and Harry needed Dean before any of them could seem to manage to find out how they feel. So instead of letting the green-eyed monster play lone matchmaker, what if there were other ways for our hero to find himself in love?

Events are loosely borrowed from the last few books.

Joy

The world fades away as he closes in on the Snitch. Its wings flutter. It's trying to elude him, trying to swerve just at the last minute. The ground looms closer. Harry's diving now, he knows it. The golden ball twitches. It zips downward faster and faster - and twists right before the ground. Gasps echo off the stands.

Harry gets it anyway.

He lifts his clasped hand proudly over his head. And the crowd goes wild.

"Gryffindor takes the game by 210 points to 40!"

He glides towards the team, the widest grin possible on his face. Everyone run towards him. There are ear-piercing screams all around.

Ron is running. Katie's running. Jimmy Peakes and Ritchie Coote are running with the wild enthusiasm of their first victory.

Harry sees them. But then he sees Ginny - flaming red hair whipping behind her in her ponytail - and the most joyful expression humanly possible on her face.

And Harry's glad, right then and there, that Ginny is a daring chaser that likes to hover close to the opponent's goals. At least this way, she's closer.

So he gets to hug her first before he needs to hug everyone else.

Sadness

"He'll be fine."

"Thank you, Harry."

"No - don't thank me. I - I'm the whole reason he's in this mess!" Harry stares at the floor, where the tip of his shoe is fast wearing out from how hard he's squishing it against the floorboards. His eyes feel heavy, and a little misty.

"You saved him, Harry - just like you saved me." Ginny reaches for his hands and takes them in her own. Harry spares a glance at the way Ron is lying unconscious on the infirmary bed, Hermione clinging to him over the side of his bed, before looking back at Ginny. "Harry, it's not your fault."

"It's not?" He lifts a brow. It feels almost evil to be saying it. Ron could have died - if it weren't for a footnote in Harry's mysterious potions book. The world came this close to being robbed of all the laughter and unwavering loyalty to be found in one Ronald Weasley. How can Harry even live with himself if that had happened? "I just feel that if he hadn't joined me and Slughorn, then he wouldn't - "

"Guilt isn't the way, Harry," Ginny says, and it's almost amazing how such simple wisdom could come out of such a young and vibrant girl.

Harry meets her eyes. She's been crying, but she's still holding strong.

She's sad, but she's not broken.

"It isn't," he echoes hollowly.

"No." She shakes her head and gives him a grim yet knowing smile. "But you can still feel bad for him."

It's that bit of permission - that sliver of subtle empathy - that makes Harry smile for the first time since Ron swallowed that cursed mead.

Anger

"What's the rush, Ginevra? Got a date with the Dark Lord?"

Harry stops dead in his tracks. Ron and Hermione stop on both sides of him too.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Ginny pause, sigh, and continue to walk away.

Harry refuses to walk away.

"Malfoy," he growls, turning around with his blood simmering in his veins.

"What?" The Slytherin crosses his arms, grinning. His minions flank him, simpering. "Jealous of him? Jealous he got to be her first despite her big cwush on you?"

"Harry, no!"

Ron and Hermione grab him by the shoulders just as Harry lunges forward.

"Draco Malfoy, you shut that mouth!" Harry cries. He sees red; he sees fire.

To treat a helpless young girl so vilely - when his own father was the reason for Ginny's possession in the first place - is unpardonable, intolerable.

Harry fights against his friends. He struggles forward. He has to land that punch on Malfoy or else -

"Harry." This voice is different. This touch on his arm is not Ron's or Hermione's.

Harry looks to his left to see Ginny looking back, her eyes a mix of thankfulness and rebuke.

She is Molly's daughter, after all.

"If I were on a date," she says, smiling, "I would make sure to be fashionably late. Why rush?"

Harry's temper cools. And he realizes, just a little, that maybe she was never helpless at all.

Jealousy

"Ginny!"

She twists off the broom two seconds after the Bludger hits her on the back of the head. Harry watches through the window, on his way to Snape for detention. He wants to join this game. He needs to join this game. He needs to catch the Snitch but, even more, he needs to catch her.

Michael Corner catches her instead.

It's the longest detention of Harry's life.

Fear

"I named the group. I founded it. I am the only person to blame," Ginny announces before anyone else can stop her. "I jinxed the contract to label anyone who broke it a sneak."

"It wasn't - "

"No, Hermione. Don't pretend for me."

"Ginny, you know I - "

"Harry," she warns. He stops at the firmness in her eyes.

Of all the students present who would take responsibility for the D.A., Ginny had the cleanest record. She's younger and smaller. The teachers think of her as a child being corrupted by schoolmates older than she is.

It's a risky move - too risky for Harry to want her to take it.

But does he have much of a choice?

"Very well, Miss Weasley," Dolores Umbridge preens. "We shall see to your punishment accordingly."

The forceful throbbing against Harry's chest as Ginny is led away contrasts far too ironically with just how defenseless he feels.

With fear comes devastation - or relief.

After two hours of fretful waiting under his cloak, Harry finally hears Ginny approaching. He looks up sharply, almost exposing his head. He watches for a moment to make sure no one else is around. He checks her out from head to toe for any sign of injury.

It's almost incredible - that she's here, alone, being allowed back to her bed, without a single mark on her.

"Ginny," he whispers.

She starts.

Then she calms.

She's known about the cloak for two months now.

"Harry," she whispers back.

He approaches her from behind, keeping his footsteps soft yet audible. Then, in one stroke, he whirls the cloak over her to keep them both inside.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey," she says back.

He's crouching a little to give them room beneath the cloak. Her face hovers close in front of his.

When she smiles, it feels personal and intimate and warm.

"Did she hurt you?"

"No."

"Ginny, you know you can tell me if they - "

"I know," she touches the side of his face. "They couldn't get anything out of me - nothing about the Room of Requirement. They had to accept I'd made a club, illegally - but a harmless club that likes to play soldier. They had me recite a ridiculous piece of poetry about the ministry. That was it."

Relief can be an overwhelming feeling.

"I'm glad."

"That I had to recite a poem?"

"That you only had to recite a poem."

Ginny smiles. Harry feels himself smiling too.

"I know," she says softly.

They stay silent, enjoying the protection of his father's cloak.

"Harry."

"Yes?"

"Why did you wait for me?"

"I - I was worried. I knew what she was capable of, and I didn't want her - "

"I'm fine."

"I know that now, but I couldn't rest knowing that you could be hurting."

"Harry."

"It's just that I care - alright? Ginny, I care about you - a lot."

She blushes slightly. She looks pretty when she blushes like this.

Harry swallows.

"I like you, Ginny, in so many ways - and not just as a little sister. I like how you smile, and I like how you laugh. I like how you look when you're all sweaty after Quidditch practice, and I like how you look when you're all dolled up in your dress robes. I feel warm when you're around, like a deep-seated happiness fountain is bubbling inside me."

Her eyes shine under the cloak. Her smile is gentle and soft.

Before he can think too hard about it, he leans down to give her a kiss.

"I think I'm falling in love with you, Ginny Weasley."

She doesn't faint, and she doesn't fawn.

She just smiles and loops her arms around his neck.

"I guess I can say the same, Harry Potter."

Joy, sadness, anger, jealousy, fear - he's gone through them all, repeatedly, with her. Life is never easy for the Chosen One, but she takes it all in stride.

She's there with him, in person or in his mind - through every danger, every threat, and every battle. She fights like a warrior. She soothes like a healer. She tells him when he's brilliant. She tells him when he's being a fool. They argue, and they make up again.

And when he leans over to kiss his wife goodnight, and the fire in the kiss leads to tumbled bodies in rumpled sheets - when the laughter of their children leads to tears and smiles and hugs all around - he is glad he gets to love her in more ways than one.