Understand

Summary: Ginny's heart was utterly crushed as she saw Hagrid carrying Harry's body out of the forbidden forest. How can a decidedly not dead Harry possibly begin to understand how that felt?

A/N: Though I've counted myself as part of the Hinny fandom for many years, this is my first attempt at writing for it. I hope it gives somebody some entertainment, however small. Comments are much appreciated, especially constructive criticism 3

I'd also like to give a big thanks to Dusk for both being a great beta and giving me the confidence to upload. Thank you :)

-HP/GW-

The door to Snape's office- McGonagall's office now, Ginny supposed- closed behind her with a quiet click. Her eyes quickly sought out Harry, who was sitting in the visitors chair at the large desk, gazing at the portrait of the late headmaster he had loved so dearly as it snoozed in its golden frame. He didn't react as the door clicked shut behind her, but she wasn't too surprised. Just a few hours ago, he had defeated the darkest wizard of the century- it seemed reasonable that he would be tired and distracted. She took the opportunity to simply look at him for a moment. He's really here she told herself, he's here and he's safe.

Stupid as it was, she had been panicked after he had vanished from the Great Hall. Despite having seen him alive and well a few times since, images of his lifeless body at Riddle's feet had been running through her mind ever since he had faked his death, so when Professor McGonagall had asked her to go and check on him she had jumped at the chance to ease her mind.

She approached his chair slowly, stopping a few paces away from him and clearing her throat. His head snapped around as he threw his hand blindly towards the table, which she noted with some confusion had three wands laid out on it. She disregarded this strange fact for a moment as she truly drank in the features of the man she loved, seeing him up close for the first time in nearly a year.

He had lost weight. She had been expecting this after seeing the state of Ron and Hermione down in the Great Hall, but the already skinny Harry now looked gaunt. His normally messy hair was long and lank; framing a bruised face which was littered with small cuts that she could only assume were from rubble and shrapnel. His eyes concerned her the most though; the dark circles beneath them bespoke exhaustion, but the emerald orbs themselves were alert; wild even. They seemed to lose a little tension as he recognized her, though it was quickly replaced with apprehension and… guilt?

"Hi," she greeted him quietly, still studying his expressive eyes, "Everybody downstairs is wondering where you are, but Professor McGonagall is asking them to leave you alone. She sent me to check on you; seems to think you haven't seen Madam Pomfrey."

"I haven't," he replied. His tone was soft as he addressed her, and he still looked rather nervous.

"Why? If you're not going to let our family take care of you then you ought to be taking care of yourself."

"I had to talk to Professor Dumbledore," he said simply, as though it explained everything.

"He's asleep and you're still here," she shot back, her temper rising, "besides, I'm sure your little chat could have waited. Medical attention is more important, especially for someone who was apparently dead just a few hours ago."

Not two minutes with the young man and she had already let it slip. She cursed herself silently. Why did she have to do it? She truly didn't want to- she had spoken to Ron and Hermione downstairs and knew, logically, that Harry had pretended to be dead for a damn good reason. She knew he wouldn't have done it if it hadn't been necessary. But some part of her- a small, petty and immature part of her, but a part nonetheless- wanted him to feel the pain that she had felt, and it danced with glee even as the rest of her winced upon seeing Harry's reaction to the bitterness of her comment.

His face crumpled, the apprehensive eyes now looking resigned and even more guilt ridden.

"Ginny… I'm sorry about that. Truly sorry. I know how that must have-"

She cut him off, forgetting about her mission to take Harry to the hospital wing entirely as that tiny embittered part of herself took over. Claiming to understand how she felt was exactly the wrong thing to do. He didn't know that pain, but he bloody well would.

"Oh, you know do you? You know how I felt?! You know nothing, Harry James Potter. I died inside seeing you like that. Did you even think about me? About all of us who love you?" Even as Ginny considered the memory, she felt the pain again. Watching as Hagrid carried him seemingly dead out of the forest, dangling uselessly in his enormous arms like a doll in the hands of a child. She had felt like her soul was splitting in two, her entire future demolished as she considered the life they would never have together.

"Gin," his voice was thick with emotion now, "Gin I know. I do. I knew exactly what it would be like for you. For all of you. But I had to, you have to understand." He was begging now, and Ginny felt her anger dissipate slightly. But how could he know? It was childish and she knew it. She hated herself for thinking that way, but how could she forgive him when he insisted that he understood that feeling?

"I… I know you were doing what you had to," she said, struggling to keep her voice diplomatic, "but you don't know. I know you want forgiveness, but there's no need to lie in order to get it."

Harry's eyes darkened slightly, a frown replacing the apologetic expression on his face. His voice became harder when he replied, "I'm not a liar Ginny. You know that."

She did know it, annoyingly enough. One of the things she loved most about him was his honesty. So… what was he talking about?
"How then?" she asked.

"I- you don't know?" The harshness of his tone had disappeared as quickly as it had come, replaced with confusion.

"What are you going on about?" She too felt her ire fade as she struggled to come up with an explanation to his odd phrasing and searching looks. "Listen I forgive you. Of course I do. I always knew you were doing what you had too. I was just upset. But, quit giving me platitudes about understanding my feelings. It's annoying."

Again, the frown. Instead of responding, he simply took his wand from the desk- and it was his wand that he went for, she noticed, not either of the other two which she didn't recognize- and waved it towards a cabinet behind the large desk. Ginny watched in fascination as a large ornamental bowl floated almost serenely towards them and landed on the desk. It was filled with a liquid she had never seen before.

Seeing her expression, Harry explained, "it's a pensieve. It lets you see memories. I want to show you something." He raised his wand to his own head and Ginny felt an irrational urge to smack it out of his hand, but she fought it down as he pulled it away again, slowly extracting a strange strand of light. He flicked it into the bowl and swirled it around in the liquid there, before meeting Ginny's eyes again.

"That was one of my memories. I want you to see it. Place your head into the bowl, and you'll go into it. Just…" He considered her for a moment before continuing. "Just remember that it's a memory. You'll be perfectly safe, but you won't be able to change anything. It's all in the past. Understand?"

She really didn't understand. She had gone there to convince him to see Madam Pomfrey, not go traipsing around in one of his memories in order to understand some weird phrasing he had come out with whilst trying to justify faking his death. The entire situation was so bizarre that she was struggling to keep up. But… his eyes. His eyes when he had said that he understood… They had been searching, beseeching even. Begging for forgiveness. Something in the intensity of his gaze told her that he did understand, that he knew exactly how painful it had been. But how? She supposed she was about to find out.

"Yes."

He regarded her again, emerald green eyes flashing between emotions. He looked almost… scared? Regardless of how he felt letting her into his mind, he motioned towards the pensieve and she ducked her head forward into the swirling mass within, feeling more than a little foolish as she did so. The feeling of foolishness was rapidly replaced with the sensation of falling as she felt herself pulled into the pensieve. She landed on her feet, though rather ungracefully, and immediately froze solid. Her head span back and forth as she realized, to her utter horror, that she was in the Chamber of Secrets.

"Don't panic," came Harry's soft voice from behind her as he walked forward and took her hand, "you're in my memory."

"Why?" She was glad to find her voice sounded far steadier than she felt inside.

"You'll see in a moment." His voice was soft and distracted, and as she looked up to meet his gaze she saw instead that he was looking with an incredibly haunted expression on something behind her.

Ginny followed his eyes, and she was struck very suddenly with the realization that she was a complete idiot. What else could he have meant, you utter prat? There at the far end of the chamber was… herself. The young Ginny was sprawled on the floor, pale as a ghost and completely unmoving. It was a strange experience, to view a younger version of herself looking so utterly lifeless as she stood there, full of life, viewing a distant memory.

Before she could begin grovelling at his feet for being so ignorant however, a loud grinding noise echoed against the large empty walls as the chamber door swung open. She watched with horrible anticipation as a young Harry wandered cautiously into the chamber, wand raised high, and then stopped dead. For one strange moment, she thought the memory had somehow seen them.

It was with a brutal, sinking feeling of dread that she realized what he had actually seen.

"Ginny!" His childish voice was so utterly full of anguish, panic and guilt that it broke the real Ginny's heart. The boy threw himself into a desperate sprint, his earlier caution and fear seeming to disappear as he charged towards her younger self, lying motionless on the stone pathway.

Ginny looked on with tears in her eyes as the young Harry threw himself carelessly onto the hard stone floor beside her eleven year old self.

"Ginny? Ginny! Please don't be dead, please don't be dead. Wake up, wake up!" The boy was pleading, shaking the young girl with trembling hands as he begged her to be okay, until suddenly he froze solid, and she heard a voice from behind her.

"Gin." She turned and faced the present day Harry, her Harry, as he softly called to her. She realized with a start that she had followed Harry's memory-self a fair way into the chamber without even realizing it. "I've shown you what I meant to, let's go."

"I don't want to. I want to see, I-"

"Gin, that's not a good idea." His voice was soft, but firm. "I'm not even sure I want to see it. It wasn't heroic, it wasn't… It wasn't like a movie. It was terrifying and bloody. If…" He trailed off for a moment, seeming to have some sort of internal argument, "if you're sure you want to see, we can do it some other time. I don't think either of us can handle it right now, not… Not after today."

Ginny stopped to consider. Why did she suddenly want to know all that had happened in the chamber whilst she had been unconscious? She had never had any interest in it before. But watching the young Harry screaming her name and charging headfirst into the Chamber of Secrets, surely knowing of the beast that lurked within… It was different to being told that he had entered the chamber and rescued her. Seeing it now, the way Harry had seen it all those years ago... She understood it better. Understood him better… Understood them better. Why had she never considered how much the chamber had affected him too? The times they had talked about it were few and he had only ever asked about her. Never before had he offered comments about how awful it had been for him. Ginny wanted to know more, and she was certain it would benefit them both to work through the experience together in his memories. Maybe… Maybe she could even show him some of hers?

"Okay," she agreed, crossing towards him and taking his hand. The world around her seemed to dissolve before she found herself ejected back into Dumbledore's office.

"Gin… I'm sorry." Harry's voice was quiet, soft and riddled with desperation as he addressed her,

Ginny felt her eyes fill with tears as she lowered herself onto his lap and threw her arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry too. I was such an insensitive prat. Of course you know, and of course you had to do it, I'm so sorry."

"I am too," he mumbled into her hair, voice wavering slightly as he did so, "I just- I know in my heart it was the best plan. But, your scream, I can't-"

Harry lost the battle with his own tears then, and she felt them dampen her hair as she buried herself in the crook of his neck.

"I can't stop hearing it in my head I-" a sob escaped his throat then, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her, "it reminded me of how I felt when I saw you lying in the chamber. I never wanted you to have to feel that. It's the most terrified I've ever been in my life, I never wanted that for you, never. Never!" He was sobbing into her hair, his breaths coming in pained heaves.

Ginny was at a loss. She had never even realized he cared so much for her back then. Had he truly been so terrified? But, she had seen it with her own eyes in his memory. The young Harry had looked utterly devastated. He had shaken her, begged her to not be dead.

He understood perfectly how she felt. And he was utterly guilt ridden at having put her through it.

"It's okay Harry," she lifted her head and whispered into his ear as she held him, "it's okay. We're both safe. We both made it. Tom is gone. We're both safe. That's all that matters. We have our whole lives ahead of us now, and we're going to live them together. If you had to scare me a little to secure that? It's okay. I forgive you."

The last three words seemed to do it, and she continued to whisper them over and over again into his ear as his breathing slowed down, the sobs gradually receding until he was still again, breathing heavily but slowly. He removed himself from the crook of her neck and looked into her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I should be the one comforting you, I just-"

"It's okay," she cut him off, "I understand."

He took her hand in his and smiled slightly, "you always do. You always have."

"I always will," she finished, squeezing his hand with hers, "even if, like today, I don't at first. I'll always listen to you until I do; and I do now. I'm just sorry I was such a prat about it."

"It's okay. We… we have a lot to talk about," he said, suddenly losing the slight smile and looking exhausted again.

"I know," she said, truly realizing for the first time the situation they were in. They had been estranged for months, many awful things had happened to them during that time, and she was quickly realizing that they hadn't even dealt with their pasts properly yet. That list was just them; it wasn't even accounting for the utter devastation outside of their little world within the walls of the office. There would be so many funerals in the coming weeks…

"We should get some rest," she said quietly, "we have a busy day tomorrow, and the rest of our lives to talk about us."

"You're right," he mumbled, rising to snatch the remaining two wands from the desk and allowing himself to be guided towards the door, "I didn't realize how tired I am."

"Not every day you defeat the darkest wizard in a century I suppose," Ginny laughed, trying to lighten their moods.

"No," he gave a watery grin in return, "that's more of a yearly thing for me."

Ginny couldn't help but crack her own tear stained smile in return.

They stumbled out of the door and past the gargoyle at the bottom of the steps, Harry beginning to lean more heavily on her the further they walked. She really did need him to see Madam Pomfrey, and resolved to take him in the morning. When they finally reached Gryffindor tower, she took him up the stairs to the sixth year girls dormitory. The enchantment preventing boys from going there had mercifully been lifted, and she knew that most of her family were in the boys dormitories. Facing them would only cause her to think about Fred, which was something she really didn't want to do right after reuniting with Harry.

He smiled tiredly as they walked through the door to the small room. She and Demelza were the only sixth year Gryffindors, so their dorm rooms were always rather cozy. She took him over to her bed where he collapsed rather heavily. She removed his shoes and pulled the covers over him, before sitting down to remove her own.

"You're not going to leave are you?" He mumbled.

"Of course not. You really think I'm going to let you out of my sight again? You're stuck with me now, Potter."

He simply smiled in response and grasped her hand again.

She climbed under the covers next to him, pushing herself as closely into his side as physics would allow and clinging to him for dear life. She felt him do the same, his strong arm wrapping damn near painfully around her waist as his other arm pulled her head close into the crook of his neck.

No, they would never be separated again.

Because they both understood just how that felt.