Chapter 31– Understanding

After arriving at Saint Mungo's and learning the Mediwizard on duty had no details regarding Ron's current circumstances other than his room number, Harry and Ginny rushed to the nearest lift that would take them to the correct floor. They hurried down the hallway and, when they stepped through the door of Ron's room, they were greeted by several solemn faces. Ron's still form was flanked on each side by Hermione and Molly, who both looked up at the new arrivals with puffy red eyes. Arthur, George, Percy, and Bill were seated in chairs, encircling the bed.

"Oh, Ginny!" Molly exclaimed, rushing over to pull her daughter into a desperate hug.

"Is Ron going to be okay?" Ginny looked across the room to meet her father's concerned gaze.

"The Healer that just left believes he's now out of immediate danger," her father answered as Harry moved to stand beside Hermione, taking in his best friend's pale complexion and bandaged arm. "They were able to fix up his broken bones easily enough, and considering the fall he took, he has only a mild concussion."

"Is the concussion the reason he's still unconscious?" Ginny asked, looking back at her youngest brother worriedly.

"They don't think so," Arthur answered. "They think the cause stems from whatever curse was used on him, which they have yet to identify. They've tried everything they can think of to revive him, but nothing has worked so far."

"For now, the Healers say we're just going to have to wait and see," George added. "And hope Ron comes out of it on his own."

Harry placed a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

"He was found by Aurors patrolling Knockturn Alley," she sniffed.

"Knockturn Alley?" Harry questioned, surprised by the revelation.

"The Aurors who were patrolling the area heard a crash," Bill explained, "and when they went to investigate, they found Ron unconscious on the ground. He either fell or was thrown from the third floor of one of the buildings. The diagnostic spells the Healers ran show he was hit by an unknown curse, so we can only assume he confronted someone."

"Why was he in Knockturn Alley?" Harry asked more to himself than anyone in particular.

"Shouldn't you be able to answer that?" Percy asked. "You're supposed to be his team lead, after all."

"Percy…" Arthur said warningly.

"Well he is," Percy insisted disdainfully.

"We had no assignment in Knockturn Alley," Harry narrowed his eyes at Percy. He was in no mood to deal with that Weasley's tone. "Ron was supposed to be in training classes all day. I didn't even have the chance to talk to him today."

"This was not Harry's fault," Hermione stated with such finality that even Percy dared not contradict.

"Of course it wasn't!" Molly admonished and she turned apologetically to Harry. "Thank you for bringing Ginny back safely. As for you, young lady," she addressed Ginny, "I hope Harry's talked some sense into you by now. Running off to play Quidditch of all things. I don't know what you were thinking with that mad man still out there!"

"Mum, can't we talk about that later?"

Unfortunately, her mother caught the guilty glance Ginny shared with Harry.

"I already have one child in the hospital," Molly stated. "I won't have anything happen to you again, too!" Then she looked sharply at Harry. "You can't let her go back!"

"Let me?" Ginny bristled before Harry could reply.

"Molly, dear," Arthur interjected. The conversation had all indications that it could escalate into a battle of wills between mother and daughter. "Ginny is right; we should all discuss it calmly at home later."

"I don't see what there is to discuss," Molly insisted. "It's much too dangerous for her to go back to playing right now!"

"It won't be dangerous," Ginny shot back just as stubbornly. "Harry has a plan—"

"He has, has he?" Molly's eyes then bored into Harry who shifted uncomfortably, suddenly finding his trainers the most fascinating things he could look at. He would almost rather face Voldemort again than Ginny's protective mother.

Arthur took pity on the couple and sighed heavily, "Perhaps we should step out into the hall then and get this over with. It sounds like the kids have something to tell us."

Despite her protests, Arthur gently took his wife by the elbow. Bill quickly rose from his seat to open the door for his parents and the Wesley patriarch guided his wife from the room, followed by Ginny. As Harry passed, Bill gave him a look of sympathy which was unmistakably translatable into 'good luck'.

Once the door of Ron's hospital room closed, Molly immediately rounded on the young couple.

"What's this nonsense about?"

Ginny took a deep breath, "I'm sorry about Ron. I honestly don't want to cause you more worry."

"If that was true, you wouldn't even think about playing Quidditch until after that Death Eater and his lot are in Azkaban!"

"Mum, even the Healers said that I should to get back into my old routine. I told you before, I need to do more! I don't want to sit around in the house day in and day out until then. It's like I'm the one in prison!"

"Staying with your family is like being in prison?" Molly asked, hurt in her voice.

"No, Mum, that's not what I'm saying."

"It sure sounded like it!"

"Molly," Harry intervened, "Ginny and I have talked about it and I believe she has a point."

"That our home is like a prison?" Molly demanded.

"No, that she should get back into some kind of normal routine and not be forced to hide away, cooped up somewhere. I never liked it when Dumbledore forced the same restrictions on me."

"If you remember," Molly drew herself up with her hands on her hips, "you had a madman after you as well!"

"Yes, I remember," Harry replied, working to remain patient as he reminded himself that Molly only had her daughter's best interest in mind. "If I had my preference, I wouldn't have Ginny go back yet, either."

"Exactly! So why—"

"Because it's what she wants to do," Harry answered firmly. "We know there's still danger but I'm going to support her decision, even if I'm not comfortable with it. However, that doesn't mean we won't take precautions."

"What kind of precautions?" Arthur asked before Molly could express further objection.

"Harry's lining up a babysitter for me," Ginny said, still sounding put out by the idea.

"A bodyguard, Gin," Harry corrected with a roll of his eyes. "It's my condition for the agreement; and Ginny's relented, even though she's not happy about it."

"A bodyguard?" Molly questioned uncertainly.

"Yes. I'm going to assign Alicia Spinnet, one of the Aurors on my team, to be with Ginny whenever she's at practice or playing."

"Alicia Spinnet… wasn't she at Hogwarts with you?" Arthur asked.

"She was," Harry confirmed. "We were on the Gryffindor Quidditch team together and she's one of our top Aurors."

"I don't know…" Molly said hesitantly. "We don't know what's going to happen with Ron, and if something happens to you, what will I do?"

"Mum, nothing is going to happen to me," Ginny gave her mother a reassuring hug. She sensed a slight crack in her mother's resistance in the face of Harry's support of her playing and she gently pressed her advantage. "If Harry says Alicia is one of the top Aurors, I'm sure I'll be perfectly safe. And I'll be careful. I promise I'll be a good girl and I won't go wandering off by myself."

"I'll come by The Burrow tomorrow morning to get Ginny on my way to the Ministry," Harry said, settling the matter. "That way I can reintroduce her to Alicia and everyone else on the team, as well. They can go on to the Harpies' stadium for Ginny's practice from there."

"In that case, you two should run along," Arthur said. "It's getting late and if Ginny's going to start training again, she'll need her rest. I think we'll send the boys off as well. Molly and I plan to spend the night here with Hermione so we will be able to get word to you if there's any change in Ron's condition."

"Come on, Ginny," Harry said, "I'll take you home."

Ginny hugged her father and then gave her mother another big hug as well, "Thank you for understanding, Mum."

"Just be careful!" Molly implored, fiercely embracing her daughter in her arms.

"Harry, let us know if you learn anything more about what happened to Ron," Arthur said.

"I will, sir."

"And thank you," Arthur mouthed, glancing purposefully toward his wife and daughter which Harry acknowledged with a slight smile and nod.

Arriving outside the gate of The Burrow's garden, Harry and Ginny walked silently towards the house, both lost in thought regarding the attack on Ron. Ginny stepped through the door into the kitchen and when she realized Harry was not following her inside, she glanced back at him curiously.

"Aren't you coming in for a bit?"

"It's getting late and you need to get your sleep," Harry answered. "You have to be rested enough to show Glendora and Geramina what's what tomorrow, don't you?"

"I suppose," Ginny sighed, somewhat surprised by how disappointed the thought of being without him, even for a few hours, made her feel. "After what happened to Ron, well, I guess it's just that I'm going to miss you."

"Yeah?" Despite having come from the hospital, Harry smiled.

"You don't need to be so pleased about it!" Ginny stated with mock aloofness.

"I can't help it," Harry replied, his smile still in place. "You can't imagine how brilliant it is to hear you say that, rather than having you act like you're afraid I'll do something awful to you at any moment."

"It feels pretty brilliant to me, too," she relented, returning his smile. It truly was wonderful to be able to relax around him now that she had a clearer understanding of her nightmares and Harry's role in them.

"That makes me very, very happy."

Smoldering warmth replaced humor in his green eyes as he cupped her face in his hands and placed a lingering kiss on her lips.

Ginny gladly opened her mouth to allow him access, becoming lost in the blissful sensation of his mouth moving across hers and the luxurious heat of his body warming her all over; unfortunately it all ended too soon when Harry broke away with a stifled groan.

"I'd really better head on home," he said hoarsely as his hands traveled lightly down her arms to clasp hers.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for a bit?" She asked before she could stop herself. His kiss had once again set off a river of desire flowing through her veins, and its insistent current seemed wont to draw her straight towards him. "I thought you'd want to tuck me into bed, or something."

"You, Miss Weasley," Harry replied, playfully tapping the tip of her nose with his finger, "are turning into a terrible tease, you know that?"

"I am not!" She began to protest until she realized how her words could be interpreted. "I meant because you're always so worried about me that you treat me like a child. You know, like hiring me a babysitter. It's not that I want you to…"

"Oh." He successfully laced the syllable with disappointment that he did not have to work hard to infuse.

"I mean, not that that would be bad or that I don't want to, um, sometime…"

Harry crossed his arms and quirked a brow at her.

"Harry!" She groaned in frustration. "You know that's not what I had been thinking!"

Which was only a tiny lie. She hadn't exactly been thinking along those lines; not initially, anyway. "If anything, maybe I should be questioning the path your mind is taking!"

Harry chuckled, "You don't have to question what path my mind is on." He placed his hands on her waist and closed the gap between them again. "And there certainly wouldn't be a question in yours if you remembered some of the more interesting things we've done."

"Th-things we've done?" There was no denying the heady affect his touch had on her body, especially when she gazed into a radiant sea of green.

"Uh-huh." His eyes behind his glasses burned into hers. "Like the night in your hotel room after the Harpies won the playoff game against Puddlemere."

He brushed his lips teasingly across hers.

"And last summer by the pond when your parents were off visiting Charlie for the weekend."

He began to trail a string of soft kisses along her neck and she took a quick breath. Merlin, it felt good and he smelled scrumptious.

"There were others," he mumbled, continuing to tantalize the sensitive skin along her throat with his warm lips and tongue. "But the one that sticks out most in my mind, my favorite actually…" he began ascending upward, "was right there in the middle of the pitch the night we snuck into the Harpies' stadium."

Ginny swallowed hard and closed her eyes. Her heart was beating a furious rhythm in her chest, anticipating his next kiss. When at last it didn't come and she felt Harry move away, she opened her eyes.

"Go get some sleep."

Harry was very close to whisking her back to their cottage right then and there and showing her exactly how things had once been between them. The disappointment within Ginny's eyes nearly turned the tide; however, he fought back the impulse with an iron will. When that glorious dream finally did become reality, he did not want to settle for a few meager hours together before they both had to run off to their respective jobs.

"I'll be by to get you at six forty-five, which should give you enough time to meet my team and still get to practice on time."

"Okay. See you in the morning," she replied, as he headed toward the garden gate. His voice had sounded strained and his mood had shifted; although she was unable to discern whether he was angry, upset or feeling something else.

"Harry?" When he turned at her call she had no idea what she had planned to say so she settled for, "Good night."

Her heart soared when he smiled back at her, "G'night, Love."

She continued to watch him walk away and just before he reached the gate she called to him a second time.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?" he turned back to her once again.

"The middle of the pitch? Really?" She hoped that the distance to the gate was enough to keep him from noticing the color she could feel rising in her cheeks.

"Most definitely my favorite," he replied with a suggestive wink. "At least so far."

After he disappeared Ginny shut the door, and as she climbed the steps to her room, she was very thankful no one was around to witness the silly, giddy grin plastered on her face.

She was a zombie, lurching along through a surreal landscape.

Nothing around her was real; it couldn't be. Not the atrocities she had witnessed; not the things she and others had been forced to do; not the losses she had suffered. Each time when it seemed she could take no more, another form of carnage revealed itself to her.

Part of her just wanted it to be over. But a far greater part dreaded its end, since it could finish in only one of two ways; one of which would be far worse than the sum of everything she had experienced already.

He was nowhere to be found and no one had seen him for what seemed like hours. Even Ron and Hermione said they did not know where he was when she asked them. Their words, which she was sure were meant to ease their own fears as much as hers, did not keep concern from reaching their eyes.

They knew.

And in her heart so did she with a certainty she wished she could deny.

It was so like him, damn him!

He was too noble; too caring; too good. Of course, those were just a few of the many reasons she loved him.

Unfortunately, Voldemort understood at least that much about him as well, and had used that knowledge to his advantage.

The high, cold voice still rang in her head: You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. If, at the end of an hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then the battle commences… I shall punish every last man, woman and child who has tried to conceal you…*

The deadline had already come and gone, yet all remained quiet; so quiet that as she moved about, mechanically helping with the wounded and the dead, she was becoming increasingly unnerved. She prayed the postponement of the imminent attack was not a sign that her worst fears were true.

Had the taunt been too much? Had he given himself up in a last ditch effort to end the massacre?

She stifled a sob that threatened to break the precarious hold she had thus far maintained on her emotions. She could not allow herself to think about that now.

"Who's that?"

She and several others around her halted what they were doing and went to the entrance hall door, following the gaze of the one who had spoken.

In the distance cloaked figures had emerged from the Forbidden Forest and, even from where she was standing, it was easy to make out the largest figure in the middle of the line of Death Eaters directly behind Voldemort himself. As they came closer, more and more of those who remained unhurt enough to still be standing within Hogwarts's crumbling walls came to the door to stare out at their approaching doom.

Nearer and nearer the Death Eaters came, the confidence in their stride evident. When at last they were close enough that she swore she could actually see the deadly gleam of triumph in Voldemort's eyes, the Death Eaters halted.

"NO!"

The scream startled her and she glanced over at her usually composed and austere professor. Never in her life had an expression on someone's face portrayed such fury, grief and disbelief all at once.

"No!"

Her head snapped around. Ron was on her other side, his body rigid, his trembling hands clenched at his sides. Her brother's face was a red mask of rage staring fiercely toward their enemy.

Only several heartbeats later, another scream echoed around her. Hermione's hands flew up to cover her face so that only her eyes, glistening with tears, were still visible, locked in stunned disbelief on the same spot as Ron's.

With rising panic, she, too, looked toward the half-giant. In less than a fraction of a second, she recognized the still form cradled in his massive arms.

"Harry!"

"HARRY!"

NO! He couldn't be—

Without conscious thought, she moved forward.

Strong arms wrapped around her middle, holding her back. She struggled in vain to break free, unaware of the shouts and screams erupting around her as Hagrid gently lowered Harry's lifeless body to the ground at Evil's feet.

Silence suddenly descended and she heard the vile Dark Lord's voice ring out in triumph. "You see! Harry Potter is dead!"

Her world crumbled.

I'm so sorry, Ginny. She heard his voice in the distance.

"WHY?"

It was the only way; I had to die.

"NO!"

"Ginny…"

"No…"

"Ginny!"

Someone was still restraining her, keeping her from going to him.

"Wake up. You're having a bad dream, Sunshine."

Slowly her father's voice filtered through the fog of sleep and, even though her body was completely drenched in sweat, she became aware of how very, very cold she felt.

Finally, she opened her eyes and her father's concerned face swam before her.

"Oh, Daddy! He's… he's..."

She could not say the words, especially through her fresh flow of tears.

"Shhh, everything is fine," her father said, holding his adult daughter in his arms much like he had when she was a frightened five-year-old. "It was just a nightmare."

"No! It was too real! I saw him! He was- he was dead!"

"Who?" Her father questioned, pulling back slightly to look at her.

"H-Harry!" Ginny sobbed against her father's shoulder.

"Ginny, Harry is fine," Arthur insisted gently. "He's at home right now and he'll be coming by to take you to the Ministry in less than a half hour."

"But he told us Harry was dead! And Harry was just lying there, on the ground in front of all the Death Eaters!"

"It was only a dream, that's—"

When her father stopped in mid-sentence, Ginny sat back and, seeing a look of understanding cross his face, she felt the bottom drop out of her stomach.

"Something did happen to Harry!"

"Listen to me," Arthur said, "I swear nothing has happened to Harry between the time he brought you home last night and now."

Ginny wiped her eyes. Her father's tone was so confident and she wanted to believe him with all her heart.

"No?"

"No," Arthur shook his head reassuringly.

"But it seemed so real. It felt like it was happening, like I really saw him lying there."

"Ginny…" her father started slowly, "how much has Harry told you about things that have happened in the past?"

"He told me about The Chamber of Secrets last night," Ginny answered, wiping her nose with the handkerchief her father had handed her.

"He did?" her father sounded surprised.

"I've been having nightmares for a while now. I didn't tell you or Mum because I didn't want you to worry. Wait… What are you doing here? I thought you were staying at the hospital with Mum and Hermione. Has Ron gotten worse?"

"No, there's been no change. Your mother doesn't want to leave the hospital, so I came by to pick up a few things for her and then I heard you yelling. Which brings us back to you."

Her father's stern expression left no doubt that any attempt to change the subject was futile.

"Harry told you about the Chamber, did he?"

"He insisted that I tell him about the dreams and he figured out that's partly what I've been having nightmares about."

"You're starting to remember some things, then?" Arthur asked.

"I suppose, but only in dreams so far."

"It's a start at least," Arthur mused.

"Except," Ginny said hesitantly.

"Except for what?" her father pressed.

"At the cottage, I was tired after practice and I decided to take a nap. I had the nightmare again and Harry heard me screaming. It took a while for him calm me down; I thought he could be the one…"

"The one what, Sunshine?"

"In one of the nightmares, I keep dreaming about someone hurting me, but I can't remember who he is. For a while I thought it was Harry."

"You thought Harry hurt you?" her father looked at her in complete astonishment. "Is that why you you've been frightened of him?"

"I was… how did you know that I was afraid of him?"

"He mentioned it to me when he first came by to tell us that he found you. He was understandably upset, but, Ginny, I hope you've realized by now—"

"That Harry would never do anything to hurt me?" Ginny finished her father's sentence and nodded. "I do now, with all my heart. But while he was still trying to convince me, he said something like he'd die before he'd let anyone hurt me again, which reminded me of something Hermione said; that Harry would sacrifice himself before he would let something happen to someone he loved.

"And then, even though I was awake, in my mind I saw a part of what I dreamed tonight," The image of Harry lying dead in the half-giant's arms flashed though her mind again, sending another chill through her body. "…someone was carrying Harry's body and I felt so sad and afraid and hollow. I was sure he was dead."

Her father remained silent, pondering what she was telling him and Ginny ran her hand through her tousled hair in frustration.

"What's wrong with me?" She asked miserably. "I know that I'm falling for Harry; fallen is more accurate, actually. So why in Merlin's name am I having dreams about something horrible happening to him? Do you think it's because I'm afraid of what the golden masked Death Eater will do to him?"

"That could be part of it," Arthur mused slowly. "But I'm pretty sure there's something else to it."

"What is it then?" she asked eagerly, praying her father truly did hold the answer.

"Ginny," her father started tentatively, "has Harry or anyone told you about the end of the last war? About how Voldemort was defeated?"

"Hermione mentioned that Harry was the one who stopped him, but she wouldn't explain more.

"Last night Harry told me about Voldemort's Horcruxes and how he, Ron and Hermione tracked them down. But he still hasn't had a chance to tell me exactly how he finally defeated Voldemort in the end."

"Did he explain about all of the Horcruxes?"

"All but the human Horcrux," Ginny answered. "The one he said Voldemort didn't realize he had created. Although Harry admitted it was someone we knew well and he seemed reluctant to tell me about it. Since all of Voldemort's Horcruxes had to be destroyed before he could be killed, I can only assume Harry was forced into playing some part in—"

Ginny's eyes grew wide. She brought a hand to her mouth as she stared at her father, but no longer really seeing him.

I'm so sorry, Ginny. I never wanted to leave you but it was the only way; I had to die.

Her vision of Harry lying as if dead was not a dream. It was an actual memory!

"Harry… was… the Horcrux?" Ginny whispered and her questioning eyes focused on her father again.

"Yes he was."

But that made no sense and she frowned at her father. "I thought the only way to destroy a piece of soul in a Horcrux was to destroy the Horcrux itself."

It was the only way; I had to die.

Arthur nodded his head slowly as Ginny searched his face for confirmation of the impossible.

"You're telling me," she was starting to feel light-headed and slightly ill in her stomach, "that Harry died?"

"Yes and no."

When they heard Harry's voice, father and daughter both turned toward the door to see him standing there, dressed in his Auror robes.

"Sorry," he said quietly and mostly to the redhead who stared wide-eyed back at him. "I've come to take you to the Ministry."

"I think that's my cue to be going," Arthur patted his daughter reassuringly on the arm and rose quickly. "Your mum will be wondering what's keeping me. No doubt she's already thinking I've forgotten the list of things she asked me to get for her."

Arthur made his exit but Harry remained motionless in the doorway, his eyes downcast at the floor. Now that Ginny knew he had hosted such malevolence within him for more than half his life, would she think him tainted or contaminated? Would she pull away from him and rebuild the barrier between them again so soon after he thought and hoped that he had finally razed it for good?

"Do you want me to leave?" Harry asked, uncertainty making his voice shake.

Several heartbeats passed before he heard Ginny softly reply, "No."

"Can I…" While she was willing to tolerate his presence, would she want him to keep his distance? "Do you mind if I come in?"

"No." When he did not move, she clarified, "I don't mind if you come in."

Harry sat rigidly on the edge of her bed so there was little more than a few feet of space between them, but, to him, it felt like it might as well be miles.

"It's true? You were one of his Horcruxes; the one he unintentionally created?" Ginny asked.

Harry only gave her a slight affirmative nod and Ginny felt a chill run down her spine.

"What did you mean by 'yes and no' when I asked if… if you had died?"

"To answer that, I'd need to start at the very beginning," Harry replied. He still had not looked directly at her since his initial arrival at her bedroom doorway. "You'll be late for practice and Gwenog—"

Ginny cut him off, "Gwenog will have to get over it."

It was well over a year since Harry had last experienced pangs of guilt and disgust because of what had resided within him for nearly sixteen years. He was unable to discern Ginny's reaction to this new revelation and the familiar feelings flared anew in the face of the possibility that she might turn away from him.

"Harry, look at me," Ginny insisted gently.

He reluctantly did as she asked and she continued, "Did I know about it before I lost my memory?"

"Yes."

"Then tell me what happened."

"Okay," he took a fortifying breath. "You remember last night at dinner I told you my parents died trying to protect me from Voldemort?"

"I do."

"What I didn't explain was that after killing my father, he gave my mother a choice. My father told her to take me and run, but Voldemort found us in the nursery. He told my mother to move out of the way and he would spare her life; all she had to do was allow him to kill me and she could live. She refused; she begged him to kill her instead, to leave me alone, but of course he didn't. She must have known it was in vain, but still, she stood between us. After he killed her, he tried to kill me. The curse hit me," he pointed to the scar on his forehead, "but it rebounded back on him. My mother's sacrifice, the fact that she loved me so much that she willingly gave her life trying to defend me, is what saved me."

"I didn't realize explaining it would be so hard for you," Ginny said sympathetically when he paused. She placed a comforting hand over his, "You don't have to go on if you don't want to."

"You need to know." He wondered if she understood how much the warmth of her simple, compassionate touch meant to him.

"Instead of killing him, the curse only destroyed his body. What he never knew was, when the curse hit him, it split off a piece of his soul which latched on to the only living thing it could find."

"Which was you," Ginny whispered and Harry nodded.

"When I got older, I think a part of me knew it to some extent; there had to be a reason I had this weird kind of link with him. I could speak Parseltongue just as Voldemort could, and sometimes I was able to get into his mind; I would feel what he was feeling and see some of the things he did. That's why I know exactly what happened the night he killed my parents. I saw his memory of it through his eyes."

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry." She could not even begin to imagine how difficult it would be to witness your parents' murder.

He took her hand that had remained on top of his and gave it a gentle squeeze of thanks.

"It was during the Final Battle at Hogwarts that I learned the complete truth. Dumbledore had figured it out years before, but of course he never told me. Before he died, he gave the information to one of the other professors, Severus Snape, with instructions to tell me once Voldemort discovered we were hunting his Horcruxes. I learned everything by watching Snape's memories in a Pensieve. I found out that Snape had been in love with my mother since they were children and that he had asked Voldemort to spare her life when he went after me. That's the reason he initially gave her a choice. That's also when I learned for certain that I had a piece of Voldemort's soul within me; that to bring an end to him, I would have to die, and I had to make sure it was Voldemort who killed me."

"You had to willingly meet your death?" Ginny asked, horror-struck. "How did you do it? I don't know if I ever could."

"It wasn't easy, and at one point, I almost didn't," Harry replied. "On my way to the Forbidden Forest to meet him, I passed you. You were trying to comfort a younger girl who had been wounded and was dying. Even then, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever see, and it made me think about everything I was going to miss out on; especially the chance for a life with you. I was under my Invisibility Cloak, so you didn't see me, although you turned towards me. You told me later that you thought you'd heard something."

Ginny's eyes were moist and Harry brushed away a stray tear with his thumb.

"Somehow I continued on, and I remembered the Snitch Dumbledore had left to me in his will; the one I caught in the first Quidditch game I ever played in. We had speculated that he'd left something inside of it for me, and he did; the Resurrection Stone. I used it to bring my parents, my godfather and one of my father's best friends, Teddy's father, to me. Their presence was the only thing that gave me the strength to go on, and they stayed with me nearly until the end.

"I found Voldemort and his Death Eaters in the Forbidden Forest. It took all I had to just stand there, completely unarmed, waiting for him to do it. Luckily it didn't take him long, and right before he cursed me, before I died, my last thought was of you.

"What happened next seems even stranger to me now than it did right afterward. I ended up in this place that was all white nothingness at first. It kind of morphed into King's Cross and then Dumbledore was there."

Ginny sniffed, "I thought you said he had died." Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks by this point.

"He had," Harry replied.

"Then you really were…?"

"Dead?" He gave her a noncommittal shrug. "Maybe, maybe not. All I really know is that Voldemort's killing curse destroyed the piece of his soul that had been in me. That, and Dumbledore told me I had a choice; I could 'go on'," he made quotes in the air with his fingers, "to where warmth, peace and my parents and godfather waited for me, or I could go back, having the chance to get rid of Voldemort once and for all."

"And you chose to come back," Ginny's voice was full of wonder.

"I did."

She was astounded by what he was telling her; what he had voluntarily given up knowing that he would be heading straight back to pain and war.

"That must have been a hard decision, too."

Harry shrugged again, "Not really."

"But how could it not be? You had so much to go on for and nothing to go back to except—"

"Don't you see?" Harry gripped both of her hands tightly and the sincerity burning within his eyes held her gaze just as firmly. "I had everything to come back to."

She began to shake her head in denial but his words halted her.

"I had the chance to stop Voldemort for good; to help ensure more lives and families weren't torn apart like mine had been. I was given an opportunity to make the world a safer place for the people I cared about, and most importantly, I was given the chance to come back to continue fighting for the thing I wanted most: a world where we were both alive and where I could spend the rest of my life with you."

That broke the dam and Ginny launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as if he was the essence of life itself. She clung to him tightly and the sobs that began to wrack her body only served to confuse Harry all the more.

He held her, occasionally patting her awkwardly on the back, at a loss for the best way to offer her comfort. In all the years he had known her, she rarely cried, let alone reacted in this way, and he was beginning to worry that he had said the completely wrong things.

"Ginny, I'm sorry," he patted her back again. "I didn't mean to upset you, really I didn't. I'm sorry what I said bothered you so much. I guess shouldn't have told you, at least not yet."

"Oh, H-Harry."

Her voice was muffled as she continued to cry into his heck.

"Yes, Love?"

"You really are the m-most dim-witted, blind p-prat on the face of the entire planet."

"I… what?"

She pulled away from him enough so he could see her puffy, red eyes and red nose.

"I'm not upset."

"You're not?"

She shook her head, "No."

"Then why are you crying like this if I didn't upset you?"

"I'm crying like this because you've made me so happy."

"Er… I have?"

"How can I not be? How many women will ever learn that they were the last thought the man who loves them had before he died?"

"Not many, I suppose." He was looking at her warily, still not understanding where she was going with this.

She sniffed and quickly blew her nose in her father's handkerchief before she continued.

"You turned away from heaven to come back to me and to make the world a better place for everyone; for us. You know, if anyone else told me all that, it would sound like they were bragging."

"I was not trying to brag!" Harry retorted, taking offense that she would think that of him. "I was just trying to explain—"

She placed her fingers over his mouth to stop him, "Harry, I know that."

"Then why did you say—"

"Listen to me." She was looking at him with tenderness shining in her eyes. "What I'm really trying to say is that I love you, too."

Harry stared at her, barely daring to hope he wasn't the one now dreaming. "You do?"

"I do," she replied, running her hand lightly down his cheek. "I think I have for a while now. I was afraid to admit it to myself until I was sure about you."

"And now you are?" Harry asked. "Sure about me, I mean."

"I am," Ginny replied sincerely. "As I have been coming to know you better, it's been harder and harder to reconcile what I was learning and feeling about you with the man in my nightmare. I knew I was falling for you, but I kept telling myself I couldn't; just in case you did turn out to be the monster I feared."

"You don't think I'm a monster?"

Instead of reassuring him with words, Ginny leaned forward and kissed him soundly on the mouth. When she pulled back, she was puzzled to still see a look of uncertainty on his face.

"Harry, don't you believe me?"

He hesitated for a moment before he answered in a low voice, "You feel that way about me even after finding out part of him was inside me? You don't think I'm contaminated?"

"No, of course not. Why would I? It wasn't your fault."

"Like it wasn't your fault that he possessed you when you were a kid and that you aren't contaminated because he did?"

She smiled, "Touché, Potter. I suppose if I have to heed my own logic, I have to admit that I'm not, either."

Feeling very much relieved, Harry returned her smile and, as he leaned in to kiss her, Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck again, molding her body against him.

Harry's head was spinning, not only from the feel of her soft curves nestled tightly against him, but from the fact that Ginny had just admitted she loved him. How many nights over the past several months had he lain awake, fearing he would never hear such a declaration from her lips again? How many times had he forced himself to squash the nearly paralyzing thought that she would never love him as she once had, nor want him in her life any longer?

Pouring all the love he felt for her into the kiss, Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny's waist and eased her back onto her bed, careful to hold most of his weight off of her. When his lips left hers to spread searing kisses along her neck and throat, she ran her hands encouragingly through his messy dark hair and shifted slightly, wrapping her legs around him. Moving his hips to fit himself snuggly between her thighs, Harry's hand traveled up along her side, stopping to cup her breast. His fingers teased through the light, oversized t-shirt she was wearing and he was nearly undone when she arched her back and moaned with pleasure.

Someone cleared their throat loudly from the bedroom doorway which had the same effect on the couple as being doused by icy-cold water. Harry scrambled to disentangle himself from Ginny and he ended up as a frustrated heap on the floor next to her bed.

Breathing heavily and with their flush of passion rapidly transforming into embarrassment, the pair saw Ginny's father standing in the doorway with his back towards them.

"Perhaps, ah," Arthur said over his shoulder and cleared his throat uncomfortably again, "Ginny should get dressed so you can head on in to the Ministry. Harry, if you will follow me."

Harry glanced nervously at Ginny before rising from the floor to follow after her father. He caught up with Arthur in the kitchen, remembering the exceedingly stern sermon Ron had told him that he and Hermione had received from Molly after being caught in a similar predicament only weeks before they were to get married. Preparing for the lecture he was about to get, Harry stood humbly before Arthur's unreadable expression.

"I'm sorry, sir. I meant no disrespect to you, or Molly, or Ginny. We, I mean, I, er—"

Arthur put up a hand to halt him.

"You are both adults," Ginny's father said with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "And you are a young couple in love, as were Molly and I at one time."

"Um, yes, sir," Harry mumbled, shifting awkwardly, casting his eyes to the floor.

"So I understand how things can, shall we say, escalate rather quickly."

Harry mutely hung his head, again shifting from one foot to another, wishing with all his might that the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

"That being said, since I'm certain Ginny's mother also remembers, even though she would likely pretend otherwise, I suggest you and my daughter restrain yourselves while under this roof. Molly can cast a pretty nasty and very accurate hex when riled, if you catch my meaning."

Harry swallowed hard, "Yes, sir."

"Now, I'd best be off to the hospital," Arthur picked up the suitcase he had packed his wife's things in. "I'll see you later, Harry."

Harry had not moved from the spot where he had been standing when Ginny walked into the kitchen a few minutes after her father left. Her duffle bag was slung over her shoulder and she was now wearing a pair of jeans, a fresh sweatshirt and her hair pulled back in a haphazard ponytail.

"Did Dad leave?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah."

She looked at him worriedly, "Are you okay? He didn't, um, do anything to you, did he?"

"No," Harry answered. "I'm still in one complete piece."

"Good," Ginny replied with relief and wrapped him in a hug. "What did he say to you?"

Harry hugged her back and leaned his cheek against the top of her head, "He basically warned me that my bits and I are lucky he was the one who caught us upstairs instead of your mum."

Ginny giggled and he looked down at her quizzically, "You find a threat to my bits amusing?"

Her eyes sparkled as she gazed up at him, "From what I've observed, Mum likes you, so I wouldn't worry too much. If she were to get angry with you, I'm sure anything she'd do would only be temporary."

"Easy for you to say," Harry mumbled under his breath as they left for the Ministry.

*quoted from Deathly Hallows, p. 660 –US version