It was very early morning, one balmy July day, and the dark blue sky was carpet of peace and serenity that was filled with a charge that was palpable. Below surrounded by large, rolling fields was the Burrow; its residents were all in deep sleep but not undisturbed sleep as all were suffering horror in their dreams. All of them but one. One of the three young men who were currently abiding there was wide awake, standing staring out of the small window of his girlfriend's third floor bedroom. This man was only illuminated by the bright moon, leaving him in silhouette, but one could still see that his hair was short but stuck out at odd angles as if in a perpetual state of bed hair and that his frame was not as slim as it once was, having bulked out of months of constant peril and bursts of intensive combat.

It had been little over eight weeks previous but his body had still not fully recovered from the battle for Hogwarts or his death. His torso was still covered in cuts and bruises causing it to be mainly a deep purple colour rather than his normal pale complexion. He tried to close the window shutters with his left hand but it had lost all strength causing him to sigh. He had broken his ring finger and shattered various palm bones in the explosion that had killed Fred Weasley and in characteristic stubborn headiness refused to have his finger magically fixed after the battle as to serve as a reminder of all that he had lost in that final battle. It had finally healed but was now a bit bent and sometimes refused to flex and though that was improving he didn't really mind. At least he had his life and, he mused despondently, it went with the scar on his right hand that faintly read 'I must not tell Lies'. He shuddered to think about the woman that had caused that particular imprint. She was currently languishing in Azkaban awaiting trial. He barked a laugh in his head that his most famous scar was now, finally after almost seventeen years, starting to fade. Albus Dumbledore's portrait suggested it was because his soul was now entirely his own but it would never fade completely as it was still a curse scar.

Harry Potter had been watching the large thunderstorm that had started just an hour earlier. He had been stood perfectly still watching how the gentle patter of drizzle that had caused him to stir from his sleep, to massive flashes of white light and electricity tear across the angry sky. He felt sick watching the lightning that was striking the ground so far away. It dragged to the forefront of his mind images of that cataclysmic fight and ultimately his death. As he thought about that clearing in the Forbidden Forest, his hand moved to the lightning shaped scar on his forehead, flashing back to that moment of clarity that he realised he was ready to die. With one particularly large clap of thunder he was transported back to that corridor and the explosion that shattered his hand, though he did not realise at the time, and killed Fred. As the minutes dragged on he marvelled at how suddenly it had burnt itself out and left this calm and beautiful blanket for the world. He was reminded of the limbo King's Cross station where, at last, he had received the complete truth about his oldest friend and mentor.

He enjoyed this calm after the storm and so stayed there for another five minutes, then lowered his hand from his head and quietly moved back to the bed in which his gorgeous, hot-headed and deeply intuitive girlfriend was still fast asleep despite all the noise. All Harry could think of as he sat on his side of the bed was how his future was so much brighter than it could have ever been before the death of Tom Riddle all those weeks ago. The realisation had started to sink in only three weeks previously whilst he was in this very bed, for the first time, cuddling up with Ginny. He smiled at the memory.

Ginny had had a blazing argument with her Mother that had lasted all day over whether Harry could sleep in her room or in Bill's old room like he had been doing since Ron and Hermione had practically moved in together. They weren't having sex they just had gotten so used to sleeping in the same room that when they tried to do so without each other they just couldn't. So Harry had moved out but now he wasn't sleeping and that was not fair. That was the basic thrust of Ginny's argument anyway. Mrs Weasley of course saw it as black and white, Ron and Hermione were both of age where as Ginny wasn't. Ginny replied that this was ridiculous as she was going to be seventeen in all of six weeks. It took, as always, Mr Weasley separating the pair for over an hour before Molly finally, but was clearly still internally furious, capitulated albeit with certain conditions and allowed them to share the bed. That night was just perfect, finally after nearly a whole year apart they had fallen asleep in each other's arms. Well Ginny in his arms, she may talk a male game but at heart she was all woman.

Snapping back to the here and now he moaned in annoyance quietly as it transpired that in his absence she had completely stolen the double, Holy Head Harpies, duvet and a large majority of the bed. He was dumbfounded by the fact that such a short girl could take up so much space. As if reading his mind Ginny rolled over slightly so that a large portion of the covers was released. This movement revealed some of her, also naked, torso.

Ginny had been more and more daring over the last couple of weeks with her choice of clothing so as of two nights ago she was wearing nothing on her top half and just knickers on her bottom half. She had got Harry into his boxers that night, by full on making out with him to distract him. Ginny had to distract him because the utter prat was being so noble again. She needed him in every way possible, in her words 'to fuck your brains out' but he stubbornly wanted everything to be perfect. Ginny told him she didn't need or want perfect, she had him and that's all that mattered. That had been their first shouting match, ever, and it had only occurred a couple of nights ago. It still hadn't fully resolved. Harry knew it wouldn't without much kicking and screaming on his part.

Still, looking at her now, Harry couldn't help himself and as he climbed back into bed he leant over to kiss her shoulder only to meet her mouth. After a few seconds they broke apart and he felt himself melt into her as she placed her hand on his face, her brown eyes boring into his own green ones. Harry felt as if Ginny had the ability to scan his soul. He pondered whether it was in fact given to her by none other than Albus Dumbledore, to keep him honest, because even in death, through portraits of him, Dumbledore could pierce Harry with such a stare that he could not help but feel like he was being stripped to the core.

"Where did you go Harry? I felt you leave, but that was ages ago." Her eyes were still scanning him. She looked genuinely terrified for him. He had been having all his old nightmares again lately and spending a large amount of time sat in the chair to the side of bed staring at Ginny who slept relatively blissfully until she tried to roll into him and he was gone, like now, and would wake up.

Her sleep was only relatively peaceful because at least once a night Harry would see the psychological trauma that the Carrows brutal torture disrupt her sleep as she dreamed. At those moments Harry returned to bed from the chair and wrap himself around her to protect her from the pain. He just wish she'd talk about it, but he knew that she was only going to open up when he did and he couldn't just yet.

"I was standing by the window watching the thunderstorm that was happening over the hill. It's okay, I'm coming back to bed now Ginny." He tried to sound calm and happy, but something in him had broken. Ginny's stare had caused all the memories of the people he had lost just rush through him like a river tearing down a dam. He felt all the guilt, both for leading them into that battle and for surviving; try and rip itself out, through his throat or even through his chest. Tears started rolling down his face.

"Harry, Darling, are you crying?" Ginny sat up, letting the duvet fall from her body. Harry barely even registered it even though his face was practically buried into her chest because he was lying on top of her, though the quilt was separating them, his hands now either side of her lifting him away from her body.

"No. . ." he replied. However this was clearly a lie as he said it through two hacking sobs. Harry all but collapsed into her chest so that she was cuddling him her hands wrapped around him holding him tight.

"Harry do not lie to me. I love you and I want to help you but I can't if you don't open up." Ginny leaned closer to his face so she was practically whispering in his ear. "What are you thinking about?"

"Them." Harry said bluntly. His face was twisted in pain, just admitting it seemed to hurt his very soul. Ginny shocked him by rolling them over, displaying her full strength as because Harry had gained muscle mass he was almost twice her weight, so now they were both completely uncovered. It was easier, she found, talking to him when they were like this. Harry enjoyed being pinned down, by the seven stone eleven pound girl, enjoyed relinquishing control. She took his left hand, kissed the break point on his ring finger and placed his entire hand on her left breast squeezing it gently as she did so. Harry, again, didn't even bat an eyelid at this. That had her very worried, as despite his attempts at nobleness when she did things like that, He normally melted into her mouth and they enjoyed hot and steamy make out sessions.

"Harry James Potter, What happened to them is not in any way your fault. It was Voldemort's fault. He tried to take power, he enjoyed murdering people and he had to be stopped. They all would have fought even if you had never been born or if the prophecy had never been made and, yes,some of them would have still died. They knew what they were doing." She said quickly but forcefully, like this had been building for a long time, which in many ways it had been. Harry looked angry at her for trying to remove his guilt. She put her finger on his lips. "Shut up Harry and let me finish. They were fighting against a tyrant and there was always going to be casualties, this wasn't a war just to protect you. It was a war for the very heart and soul of the wizarding community and we all had to pick a side. I cannot say that I do not miss them. That would be a bloody lie, I miss them all more than I can explain and some nights I cannot sleep because I am too scared, I close my eyes and see their faces as I saw them lying there dead, fuck it, I see you dead and I just want to cry though your presence helps me, you ground me into the present and I get to cuddle up to you as you sleep feel your heartbeat with my head to know you are alive, it allows me to sleep, even if the Carrow's rudely interrupt." Ginny closed her eyes and sat up on his lap so her face was in semi darkness. It was her turn to start crying, gently though, as if the memories were washing over her like tiny waves at a lake. This caused Harry to break a little from his self-absorbed depression, his eyes snapped from Ginny's tummy to her face, lingering a bit on her chest (even in this self-flagellating state he couldn't quite overcome his male nature.), He tried to look into her eyes but he couldn't meet them, he was too frightened. This was because when he finally did looked into them he might find the look of hatred and contempt in there that he knew he deserved for surviving where her brother had not.

He had actually had a conversation with George and Percy about this survivor's guilt when they had both been staying at the burrow and Harry had found them together sobbing in the corner of the twins' old room. Percy hadn't been able to talk to his parents for four weeks despite, living with them; because he believed, because of his past despicable treatment of his family, he should of died and not Fred as it was not fair that a man who was so good natured that he accepted Percy back into the fold without much prejudice should have been killed. The practical upshot of the conversation was George called him a stupid prat for being so depressive and in turn Percy offered to help with the joke shop, the brothers bonding again due to the loss. It made Harry feel better, some bridges were being mended out of the wreckage of others. Then Percy marched downstairs and hugged both of his parents apologising profusely until they were all puffy eyed with tears but all much closer for it.

Harry curled the fingers of his right hand into the top edge of Ginny's knickers, so that he could sit up without disturbing her. That caused the tips of his fingers to brush along her hairline. He didn't notice, because if he had, he would have just locked up even further for apparently going too far. With his left thumb he wiped her tears away from under her eyes and finally managed to look into them.

"One day Ginny; I will tell you everything and I hope you will tell me about your adventures raising hell for the Carrows; but tonight is not that night. I am sorry, I just cannot forgive myself for getting Fred killed or Remus or any of the others. If only I'd have acted quicker or. . ." Ginny silenced him with a look and she leant over so again she was practically whispering in his ear, her breath making his hair stand on end and his body involuntarily shiver with lust. This broke him completely out of his depression.

"Do you honestly think that I do not forgive you? I know why you refused to get your finger healed. It's your act of penitence and remembrance because you are a silly sod who believes this all his fault. You do not need any atonement. Not from me or the rest of the family. Why do you think I make a point of kissing your finger Harry? To try and get it through that thick skull of yours, that I love you now as much as I did before. . ." Her tone was soft and calm but it cracked slightly when mentioning Fred. Harry nodded slowly then cocked his head to one side so he was looking at her, with extreme interest, pondering something.

"Ginny," He said questioningly, with excitement starting to creep in still through tears though, "When did you get on top of me? Not that I mind or anything. Though can you lie properly on me? It feels so good having your naked chest against mine and to be honest I am now fed up of being depressed."

Ginny broke into hysterical laughing, causing Harry to jump a little in fright.

"Oh no, you do not change the subject like that, I love you Harry Potter and nothing that has happened has dented that." She tried to look very stern, clearly channeling Mrs Weasley and Harry couldn't contain the giggling. He wrapped his arms around her neck, pulling her close, and kissed her. She joined in with giggling but pushed herself off him so she was sat upright.

"I know that Ginny. But right now I don't believe it, give me time. I will give you everything, all that I am and know soon. I want you to know I love you too and I cannot live without you. Now where we were before?" He smiled as Ginny's eyes glinted. She rolled off and placed her head under his chin, her breasts resting against his chest, electricity coursing through both of them. Harry wrapped himself around her feeding his leg between hers whilst cuddling her tightly. "You think you are so funny don't you. I was giving you what you want."

She just nodded and Harry felt her smile as he drifted, finally and for good that night, off to sleep.

"Happy Birthday Harry Potter you; amazing, gorgoeus, lovely, noble but very stupid sod." She whispered into his chest before falling asleep as well.