After Voldemort had fallen, the survivors of the battle spent nearly two weeks living in the ruined castle. Partly it was to help rebuild the castle and give those who needed it, time to heal. Partly it was the reluctance to return to their normal lives and move past what had happened. Mostly it was a comfort to stay secluded at the castle. It was a comfort to be with those who had also been there and understood what had happened.

During the first of those two weeks at the castle, Harry became more and more withdrawn. The more time he had to look around him and see the damage that had been done and the lives that had been lost, the more he let the guilt weigh heavily on his shoulders. Harry had confided the rest of the story to Ron and Hermione as well as relaying some key points to Professor McGonagall but then he had stopped talking, to anyone. Harry spent all his time either in the boys dormitory alone or wandering the grounds beneath his invisibility cloak. He knew that if he let Ron or Hermione talk to him, like they kept trying to, they would tell him that it wasn't his fault; that it was because of him that the battle was finally won. What they didn't understand was his understanding that if he'd turned himself over to Voldemort earlier in the battle, it would have prevented unnecessary deaths like Fred's, Remus', and Tonks'. How could anyone forgive him for that? If he couldn't forgive himself, how could he expect anyone else to?

Harry decided that when he finally left the castle, he would go to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place to live on his own and decide what to do next. He thought about offering Hermione a place to stay there too, but he imagined that the Weasley's would take her in. Besides, it probably wouldn't be long before she ventured to Australia to lift the charm with which she had protected her parents. It would be nice to live alone he thought; no one there to pester him, no one to keep trying to get him to talk to them. It might take a little getting used to, living alone, but he'd have Kreacher and Buckbeak, so he wouldn't really be alone.

On the eighth day after the battle, a timid knock sounded on the dormitory door. Harry was surprised. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and pretty much everyone else who wanted to talk to him had just barged in. Out of sheer curiosity, more than a real interest in speaking to anyone, Harry stood and opened the door. Before him stood Madame Pomfrey who asked, "May I come in?"

Harry noticed that she was carrying a large case with her and suspected why she might have come, "Please," he said.

She entered behind him, set her case on the floor and turned to close the door. "I have been waiting for you to come to the infirmary to have your wounds treated but now that I have very few left in my care I decided I'd come to you. Will you let me look you over?" she asked.

Harry's first instinct was to turn her away. He didn't want to let anyone in right now. He felt his stomach churn, understanding that this was her way of showing him that she cared. He couldn't imagine her making a call to the dormitory under any other circumstances. He wanted to tell her that he didn't deserve her care. He wanted to push her away like he'd done with everyone else. He saw the shimmer of unshed tears in her eyes and also understood that she needed to heal him to feel useful and to feel she was contributing all she could. It was like when Mrs. Weasley cooked for an army and took care of everyone, this was how Madame Pomfrey conquered her own emotions. Harry nodded mutely. He didn't have to say any thing; he just had to let her do her work.

"Remove your glasses and I'll start with your face," she instructed.

He did as instructed and felt her cool hands dabbing at cuts and swabbing them with dittany. When she had finished with his face, she asked him to strip down to his boxers and she would continue. When he flushed red, Madame Pomfrey informed him that he had nothing she hadn't seen before. Embarrassed as he was, Harry complied and perched on the edge of his bed so she could continue her work. What he hadn't counted on was Madame Pomfrey's ability to soothe with words.

As she was inspecting the scar left from where the locket had attached to his skin and the large patch of bruising where the killing curse had hit him, she began to talk quietly to him, "You know Harry, a lot of people are worried about you. We all understand how you must be feeling…"

"How would anyone know how I'm feeling?" Harry said, roughly interrupting her.

She faltered for a moment before continuing, "We understand that there must be a lot of guilt connected to your position in all of this but it is unfounded..."

"People died because I didn't just turn myself over sooner to Voldemort," Harry said.

"Maybe, but those people knew what they were fighting for and what the consequences might be. How do you know that if you had turned yourself over sooner, there might be a lot more people dead now, including you?" She asked.

"I don't," Harry said simply, "But the fact remains that I am the one he was after. Its my fault that they got killed."

"Everyone that was in the castle fighting was here on their own free will. You did not personally ask or expect anyone to be here, did you?" She asked.

"Well no, but…" Harry said.

"No one blames you, Harry," Madame Pomfrey said gently, "You need to forgive yourself. There are a lot of people downstairs who care about you and want to help you through this hard time. You may not see yourself as the hero that they all do, but you need to let them care for you. If you shut yourself away, you're just another casualty of this war. Do you really think any one of the people who gave their lives would want you to waste the rest of your's with guilt and unhappiness?"

Tears were now falling from Harry's eyes, onto his boxers, leaving wet splotches. How had she known just what to say that would help slightly to ease the burden? She continued to clean cuts, heal burns and swab dittany on whatever she could. When she had cared for what felt like each and every inch of him, she rose and asked, "Do you think I got everything?"

Harry nodded and quietly said, "Thank you." To his surprise she gave him a quick hug before quickly picking up her case and bustling out of the room.

"Come see me if you require anymore care," she called behind her, her voice thick with tears.

Harry had began to pull on a clean pair of jeans that had appeared on his bed several days ago when Ron, Hermione, and Ginny spilled through the door that Madame Pomfrey had left open. "Oy, girls cover your eyes, Harry's practically starkers up here," Ron said as he flopped onto his bed. Hermione politely turned her back on Harry while he finished dressing but Ginny just stood rooted to her spot and stared.

"Gin," Ron said, "Didn't you hear me? Give Harry a bit of privacy and turn around."

Ginny appeared to have not heard Ron because rather than turning away as Harry buttoned and zipped his jeans, she drew closer to him, her eyes riveted to the ugly mess of scar and bruises in the center of his chest. She tentatively ran a finger around the circular scar before looking up into his eyes and asking, "Is this where it hit you?"

Ginny's touch had taken his breath away, partly due to the pain it caused, but more because this was the most intimately she had touched him in a year and his body still reacted to her as it had then. Upon regaining his voice Harry said, "Yeah, that's where the killing curse hit me. Madame Pomfrey said that while it looks like a normal bruise, it isn't and will probably look that way for months, at least."

"What's this scar from?" Ginny asked, as again, her finger traced its outline.

"When Hermione and I went to Godric's Hollow, Nagini attacked me in Bathilda's house. The horcrux kind of, came to life, and attached itself to my chest. Hermione had to use a severing charm to remove it," Harry explained.

"What do you mean, 'came to life'?" Ginny asked.

"I don't know if it was proximity to Voldemort or Nagini, who was another horcrux, or both, but it started to twitch," Harry said, "Like it had a mind of its own."

Ginny looked stunned. Her eyes sparkled with tears and she appeared to be grasping for words. Finally she gathered Harry into her arms and said, "You went through so much last year, I'm sorry."

Harry was unable to respond; he just held onto her and breathed in her scent. Holding her to his bare chest was unimaginable pleasure and sent all the feelings he'd been trying to repress for the last year coursing back into his veins. The dormant creature who resided inside him purred to life and gave a mighty roar. It intended to win her back even as his mind was telling him that he no longer deserved her. When Ginny finally pulled away; she hastily wiped her tears and retreated from the room.

Harry picked up a clean tee-shirt and pulled it over his head before settling himself back on his bed. "Let's hear it," he said to Ron and Hermione who were watching him intently from atop Ron's bed.

Hermione cleared her throat a little and said, "Madame Pomfrey is right, you know. You have to forgive yourself. No one blames you."

Hermione elbowed Ron and he added, "We can understand how you're feeling…"

Harry interrupted, "Really, do you honestly think you understand how I'm feeling?"

"Well, we can imagine," Ron said fiercely, "It's not as if we couldn't guess how it would feel if we put ourselves in your shoes. But you need to do the same and put yourself in our shoes and understand that we do not blame you and we hate to watch you suffer with this guilt."

"I'll try," Harry said simply.

"Mom and Dad wanted me to tell you that you're coming home with us when we all finally leave the castle," Ron informed him.

"No, I'm going to go to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place," Harry said.

"Harry," Hermione said wringing her hands, "You can't live there, it's in shambles. Bill and Charlie went to check it out and said it'll need a lot of work before anyone could live there. I'm sorry."

"Besides," said Ron, "Mom reckons that if you went off to live on your own, you wouldn't take care of yourself properly, not while dealing with this kind of grief. She wants all her children to accompany her and my father home to stay until Fred's funeral and she considers you one of her own."

Harry's eyes filled with tears. How could Ron's mother still consider him like a son when he was to blame for the death of one of her biological sons? It was hard for him to fathom that kind of love and forgiveness.

"She also said that she didn't care if you owned the finest house in all of London, you needed to be with family, to be taken care of," Hermione said, "I'm not sure she's going to give you much of a choice, but will you come with us?"

Harry nodded weakly as tears continued to leak from his eyes.

From that day forward, Harry made a great effort to eat meals in the Great Hall with everyone and to lend a hand where he could with the repairs being made to the castle. Slowly, people were approaching him to talk, but they seemed to understand that he was still in a hard place. Mostly, people showed him their support by simply grasping his hand or patting him on the shoulder. Harry kept waiting for someone to track him down to lay blame at his feet for the death of their loved one, but no one did.

As the days wore on, the castle's appearance vastly improved. Things were mended; others that were damaged beyond repair by curses that had rendered them unmendable, were replaced. Harry knew that, in spite of the repairs, he would never be able to fully scrub the image of the castle in that state of disaster from his mind. It saddened him that the castle had lost that feeling of what made it home for him. Perhaps it was time to stop thinking of the castle as home though. Maybe home was the Burrow. Maybe he wouldn't again feel a true sense of home until he shared a home with a family of his own. Maybe his home was simply wherever Ginny was.

Once Harry stopped isolating himself and spending more time around the other inhabitants of the castle, he noticed the odd, almost-dance he and Ginny did around each other. They were unfailingly polite and reserved with one another, but below the surface, something more simmered. He felt an undeniable urge to speak with her but knew that the time wasn't yet right. Harry was trying to be cautious about Ginny. He wasn't sure how to approach her about being together again. He knew it had hurt her greatly when he'd broken things off at the beginning of last summer. He was worried that rushing to her now and expecting to pick up where they had left off would be disrespectful. For all Harry knew, Ginny had gotten over him during their time apart and wasn't at all interested in getting back together. While he felt that he no longer deserved her; he couldn't contain or deny the longing he had for her.

After those first few nights of what was the deep, dreamless sleep of utter exhaustion, Harry's sleep was marred by nightmares. Tiny details changed between each occurrence of the dream but the basic plot line was always the same. In the dream, he was back in the castle the night of the battle. More people were dying, he was missing a horcrux, and everything was just going wrong. It was all his 'what ifs' in reference to the battle playing out in his mind while he slept. They were horrifying in a way that the visions he had seen while still connected to Voldemort had never been. Finding it hard to sleep most nights, Harry found himself climbing up to the astronomy tower to star-gaze while waiting for true exhaustion to take over. He found that if he kept himself awake long enough, he dreamt less.

One night, several days after he'd given up his self imposed isolation, he was sitting against the wall in the astronomy tower watching the stars twinkle above him. He was amazed to find that if you sat still long enough watching the stars, you really could sense the slow rotation of the earth by the slow shifting of the stars in the sky. The sound of someone quietly trudging up the stairs broke his concentration on the sky. He turned just in time to see Ginny notice him sitting on the floor.

"Oh," She breathed, "I didn't know anyone was up here. I'll go."

"Please stay, Ginny," Harry said, "Come sit with me."

Without hesitation, she settled herself beside him, leaving an obvious gap of nearly a foot between them. Untangling the blanket he had brought up to the tower to ward against the cool air of spring, he offered some of it to Ginny and said, "If you move a bit closer we can share."

She slid closer, still not closing the gap entirely, and asked, "What are you doing up here? I thought you were done with isolating yourself."

"I am, but I can't sleep," Harry begin, "Well, that's not entirely true. I can sleep but I have awful nightmares and the only thing that helps, even a little bit, is keeping myself awake until I am completely exhausted."

"What do you dream about?" Ginny asked, not bothering to turn and look at him.

"The battle," Harry said simply, "What are you doing up here?"

"Couldn't sleep. I decided I'd come watch the stars, I find them to be very calming," Ginny replied.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, just watching the stars overhead as they inched westward across the sky. Ginny's hand slipped into his own under the blanket and her fingers twined with his. Still neither turned to look at the other but simply held onto what felt like a start back to one another.

After what could have been two minutes or two hours of silent hand-holding, Ginny finally spoke, "I waited for you."

Harry was unsure of what to say. Part of him wanted to confess all his doubts about them getting back together. Another part of him wanted to hold her and kiss her until his dreams at night would be filled with nothing but her. Finally he said, "I don't deserve you. You shouldn't have waited."

"Why would you assume that you don't deserve me?" Ginny asked, "It's not all that rubbish about everything being your fault again is it?"

"Well partly," Harry admitted, "But more importantly, I know how much I hurt you last summer when I broke it off between us. I feel like a git hoping that everything can go back to how it was."

"It did hurt," Ginny replied, "But I understand that just because you broke up with me, doesn't mean that you don't have feelings for me. I know that you were just trying to protect me." Harry nodded and Ginny continued, "Do you still have feelings for me?"

Harry nodded again and Ginny asked, "Do you want to get back together?"

Harry nodded again and said, "I couldn't ask you those questions myself, out of guilt, but cannot lie when asked. Its been hard to leave you alone, but it felt necessary." He turned toward her and ran a finger down her cheek before saying, "I am absolutely crazy about you."

A soft whimper escaped Ginny's lips and she said, "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," Harry confessed, "I used to take out the Hogwarts map and watch your dot hoping that you'd know I was thinking about you and missing you."

"The tee-shirt you were wearing before Bill and Fleur's wedding got left behind in Ron's room when the three of you made your quick escape. I slept with it until I went back to school. I kept it under my pillow at school and on a couple of days that I needed some extra strength I wore it under my uniform," Ginny admitted, "It smelled like you."

"I wondered what happened to that shirt," Harry said, "I used to write you letters and then burn them."

"Me too," Ginny replied, "Are we done competing to see who missed who more?"

"Only if you are going to kiss me now," Harry said, "Otherwise, let me tell you all about…."

Harry's words were interrupted by Ginny, cupping his chin in her hand, turning his face to hers. She rested her forehead against his before moving her lips to tenderly caress his. Harry responded similarly reigning in the desire that fizzed below the surface until Ginny deepened the kiss, prodding his lips apart with her soft, warm tongue. When Harry finally pulled away, after what felt like minutes but was definitely closer to hours judging by the amount the sky had lightened since they last looked at it, they grinned at one another.

'Back together then?" Ginny asked.

"Definitely," Harry sighed.

"We'd better both get to our beds or we'll have my Mum to answer to," Ginny said regretfully.

"I'll walk you back to the common room," Harry said gallantly as he held out a hand to pull Ginny up from the floor.

As Ginny took his arm she carefully asked, "Maybe later you can start telling me about your adventures during the last year?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, blanching a little, "And in return you can tell me what this place was really like last year."

"We'll take turns," Ginny said very quietly, "It's bound to be hard on both of us, but important. One condition I have for us getting back together, is no secrets."

"Agreed," Harry said.

The couple took over an hour to get back to the common room. There were entirely too many tempting nooks and crannies in the castle to take advantage of along the way. Finally separating in the common room to ascend their separate staircases, both were ready for some sleep. "Good-night," they whispered.

Harry lay down in his bed, careful not to wake Ron, Dean, Seamus or Neville, as he quietly drew the curtains around his bed. He couldn't repress the grin that spread across his face but he felt a small measure of guilt over his happiness. It was hard to feel that he deserved such happiness in the face of all that had happened. Harry fell quickly into a deep sleep.

Up the other set of stairs, Ginny lay grinning in her bed as well. Carefully she rearranged her features to feign sleep as her mother tiptoed into the dorm to check on Ginny.

Author's Note: This is not my first fan-fic, but it is the first I have written for Harry Potter. Undoubtedly there are massive quantities of HP stories out there – I have read a fair few of them myself. Everyone has their own version of how the story should have continued at the end of book seven and this is mine. I just ask for kindness and any advice that might be out there. I have resisted putting this story down for a long time and finally its catching up with me – at times its all I can think about. I blame seeing the 6th movie….seeing the Harry and Ginny scenes just drove home how much I wanted to explore how their relationship plays out. Thanks!