A/N: This is a short little character piece I've had on my computer for a long time. I initially intended to have it as part of a collection of one-shots, but it's the only one that ever manifested fully. I thought I'd finally share it.

"Love is not consolation. It is light."
~Friedrich Nietzsche

It had been five weeks since the end of Lord Voldemort. The funerals had been attended, the memorials were being erected, and wizarding Britain had begun the slow and arduous process of moving on. Harry rested easily against the headboard of his large mahogany bed in Grimmauld Place's master bedroom. He watched the warm glow of sunlight as it began peaking through the closed curtains and his heart felt lighter than he could remember in recent history.

Getting past the horror of the past few years would not be easy, not by any definition of the word, but the hope and determination that had gotten them through the war remained. It turned what had been violence and volatile fear a mere month before into peace and gentle melancholy. The emotional and physical wounds were starting to heal for many, and many more were simply rejoicing in freedom.

Harry was caught somewhere between the two. He had lost as much as anyone over the past year, probably more, but he was finally free of the knot he had had in his heart since the meaning of the prophecy had been made clear to him. And as he watched Ginny's sleeping form curled against his bare chest, rejoicing felt like the more appropriate option.

It had been hard for he and Ginny to have any alone time recently. He kept getting pulled away for official ministry depositions and interviews, having to repeatedly explain how he, Ron, and Hermione had succeeded where the entire ministry had failed. Ginny had stayed close to home while the family mourned. It wasn't a schedule conducive to a love life, so when they did find time to be alone most of it had been spent talking, unpacking emotional baggage and working through the impact of spending nearly a year apart. That was until the previous night.

Ginny stirred, pushing a red strand from her face and blinking several times. She smiled wickedly as she took in her surroundings. She held the covers to her chest as she shifted and propped herself up on an elbow.

Harry couldn't keep the smile off his face as he watched her half heartedly attempt to straighten her hair by running her fingers through it. He hadn't planned for this to happen. He had imagined it happening for sure, but later and with the war farther behind them than it was currently. He had also imagined putting a little more effort into the setup of their first night together. Roses. Candles. Music.. But fate always had different ideas of what was best for him.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had gone to see Charlie back to Romania, all the while keeping George close, Bill and Fleur had gone to see her family in France, Percy was glued to Kingsley's side to help finish cleaning out the Ministry corruption, and Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione had found themselves with a rare night off. They had gotten dinner in muggle London - to avoid what had become frequent and fervent admirers and press - and then walked around the city together, having real fun for the first time in far too long. It had been Ginny's suggestion that Harry show them the newly restored Grimmauld Place, but Hermione and Ron were exhausted and had apparated back to the Burrow.

The walk after had proven quite romantic, and when the thunder cloud hanging over Harry and Ginny had opened up to pour on them they had stumbled into Grimmauld laughing, kissing, and completely drenched. Everything had been perfect. They had snogged each other senseless in front of the fireplace in the library before she had breathlessly suggested that they get out of their wet clothes. In a moment of what he later concluded was shear idiocy he had offered a drying spell. Ginny had walked to the doorway and told him that wasn't what she had in mind. Her wet blouse had hit the floor with a plop as she walked upstairs.

He had followed. Rather quickly.

"Morning," Ginny chirped, the mischievous smirk still playing on her lips. She leaned up and kissed his nose.

"Morning."

Not since first getting his Hogwarts letter had he been this happy, this utterly content.

"How are you this morning?" she asked casually, as if she had just run into him at the Burrow breakfast table.

He laughed and pulled her too him kissing her soundly. His chest roared in satisfaction as he heard her hum in approval. He could live to be a thousand years old and never understand what he did to deserve her. She snuggled back against him, her head on his shoulder.

"This is nice," he said, running his fingers through her loose hair, playing with the tips.

"It is," she confirmed. Her eyes focused on the curtains and bright window. "What time is it?"

"Just after seven."

"How long can we stay here?"

Harry sighed. "I've got a meeting with Kingsley at eleven."

Ginny let out a breath that was a partial sigh. She turned and nuzzled her face into his shoulder. "Tell him to sod off," she teased.

"I wish," he said. Because it was true. He would have loved nothing more than to spend all day with her skin to skin and heart to heart, and if his meeting was with anyone other than Kingsley he probably would have told then to stuff it. But the work being done now was important. They had to seal the cracks and keep an overthrow like that from ever happening again. Even though they had been victorious, the thought of how easily Voldemort had upturned everything still had everyone unnerved. Harry decided he would help fix that anyway he could.

Ginny was studying his face carefully. "Don't let them take more than you have to give," she told him. He raised an eyebrow in response and she continued. "Don't let them make you feel responsible for everything. You've done more than your share. I'd never tell you not to help. I know it's not in your nature, and then you would have nothing to talk about at your next Noble-Prats United meeting." He exhaled heavily in what was very nearly a laugh and she turned to face him fully, her eyes serious. She rubbed her hand gently over his heart, grazing the raised edges of the scar left by the locket's burn. "But try to remember that it isn't your burden to bear. Lend a helping hand all you like, but don't forget you're not alone in this anymore."

He was overtly aware that she was probably not just talking about the ministry, and nodded dumbly, his own way of promising he'd do his best. An anxiety he hadn't even realized was buried in his chest melted away as he took in the truth of her words, and right then he was incapable of forming any other thought than how happy he was to be there with her. He was pretty sure that he loved her to the point that it was killing his brain cells.

"It's too bad you have that meeting," she said returning to her casual tone, the solemness in her eyes melting back into something playfully predatory, "we were just starting to get good at this." She nipped at his ear and then laughed again his eyes widened. He knew he was looking a little scandalized, but couldn't school his expression in time, and she giggled even more. He knew he could listen to that forever.

They settled into a comfortable silence then, snuggling and enjoying the hum of the day beginning outside.

"I wanted to run something by you," he says, gently disentangling himself from her.

She nodded for him to continue.

"Hermione and Ron are leaving to look for her parents on Monday. I told her we would go with them. I thought it might be nice to get away for a little while, focus on something a little more pleasant for once. Though I probably shouldn't have spoken for both of us."

To his surprise Ginny winced. "Oh bugger. I volunteered us to help Neville and Luna start rebuilding their houses next week. Even with magic it will be quite an undertaking," she offers him a mildly sheepish look, "I guess I shouldn't have spoken for both of us either."

The silence extended again until they both sighed.

"I'll stay."

"I'll go with you."

The sentences came out at the same time and they smirked at each other. Ginny leaned in her nose practically touching his, somehow knowing that he needed her that close.

"I don't want to leave you again," Harry said, trying not to sound pathetic.

"I don't want you to either, but who am I to break up the Golden Trio," she said, doing her best to sound playful.

He huffed and her eyes danced. As if Rita Skeeter hadn't been enough of a plague on his life, now she had stuck him and his friends with that ridiculous moniker. He rolled his eyes dramatically, but when they met Ginny's again they found nothing but understanding. They couldn't desert those who had stood by them this past year, and neither wanted to put the other through the guilt of feeling as though they had abandoned their friends. They just knew each other too well.

"Thank you." He kissed her forehead.

"Same."

"It won't be long," he observed. "Hermione is brilliant and Kingsley told her he could enlist a few members of the Australian ministry. And with all the admirers Neville has earned himself it shouldn't take long for you to have their homes back to a respectable condition."

"Two weeks tops," Ginny agreed.

"It can't be as hard as a horcrux hunt," he concluded.

"Love, you're going to have serious issues if you start gauging the difficulty everything by that," she teased in a whisper. She brushed his fringe from his eyes, "But you're right, the fact that there's no mortal danger now is a bonus."

"That'll make it a bit of a bore," he deadpanned.

"If you want I can hire a hit-wizard to follow you."

He scoffed loudly, "Only one? Poor bloke." She slapped his shoulder.

In that moment there was no darkness. Right then they were just Harry and Ginny. It was what they were fighting for all along, and he had to fight the disbelief that it was finally theirs.

He kissed her again then glanced at his watch sitting at the night stand. Ginny's eye's followed his.

"We should head back to the Burrow," Ginny said, unable to hide her disappointment. "I'd rather not be interrogated by my dear older brother." She saw Harry's eyes widen again and his cheeks redden at the mention of Ron. "Merlin, Harry you can't make that face when he asks us how the rest of our night went. Might as well wear a sign that says, I shagged my girlfriend." This served only to make Harry blush harder. "Sod it," she said and kissed him again.

End.

That's it. Please clickety clack on that comments button. I do love feedback.