Harry and Ginny's reunion after the battle from Ginny's point of view. Rated T for language and sexual themes. Please read and review! Enjoy :D I might turn this into a full length fic if people like it, but for now it's a oneshot.

The world moved as if in slow motion; oddly sluggish and distorted. It was as if she was looking at everything through curved glass. Ginny moved towards the Gryffindor tower automatically, her body – seeming oddly limbless, felt as if it was hovering towards the comfort of the familiar common room. Grief stricken faces blurred in and out of focus as she staggered along, and the stairs wavered beneath her feet when she began to climb. She wasn't sure if this was the exhaustion, shock or the view of the world through a sheen of tears. Probably a combination of all three.

The Weasley's had stayed together in the Great Hall for a time after the end of the battle. She would never know how long… it had seemed like they had been standing there forever, huddled together and staring disbelievingly down at Fred. But when the first waves of reality had hit, everyone had started to split off. It was the sort of shock you needed to reflect on by yourself for a while before it became real. Ron and Hermione had left together, hand in hand, George had gone to be alone somewhere – the tears threatened to fall more insistently as she thought of him. George. Just George now...

To be honest with herself, she hadn't really felt truly sad yet. The guilt of that was awful… all she felt was a sort of still coldness, a detachment from everyone surrounding her. She couldn't realise the fact that Fred was dead. It was a thought that was almost laughable – and it wouldn't sink in. Everything that had happened tonight seemed almost dream like… her brother had been killed, and then – minutes afterwards, it had been announced that Harry was dead. Her Harry. Following that, he was alive again, and to top it all, she had missed death by inches so many times tonight that she had lost count. Ginny had experienced all her worst fears in a matter of minutes, and the trauma had made her oddly numb. Nothing was making sense in her head.

She plodded up more stairs; the Gryffindor common room seemed impossibly far away. Exhaustion and pain were making it hard to think, but Ginny knew she had to go there, if only to get to her bed. But it was more than that; Harry had disappeared soon after Voldemort had died, and she knew that he would be in the Gryffindor tower.

Ginny didn't want to talk to him about 'them' tonight, or listen to any romantic gushings, or even talk about the battle. She just wanted to know he was alright. She couldn't accept that he was alive and here until she had seen him, safe and protected.

Finally, the portrait of The Fat Lady swam blurrily into her vision. The woman didn't ask her for the password, just swung forward wordlessly and admitted her. Ginny clambered through as if in a trance. The common room had a few people sat around it, but she said nothing to any of them. She needed to see Harry, and it wasn't just about reassurance anymore. Nothing was going to keep her from him now; the only barrier there had ever been between them was gone. Dead. And she knew, as she had known since the age of eleven, that Harry was it for her. She'd be damned if she was going to wait around until he was 'feeling better', or had time to 'process'. No. Ginny had been mindful of Harry's privacy ever since she had known him. Although she was an expert at reading him, she had been forever overlooked. It had always been left to Ron and Hermione, or her mum, or Sirius to look after him, and she had often felt like she was being shooed away. No. She was staking her claim tonight. She would be the one who would weather this storm with him, and she wouldn't let him or anybody else push her away. Harry had lost almost everyone he had ever cared about – and unsurprisingly, this had given him issues with leaning on people. Well, she wasn't going to let that slide anymore.

Ginny stood on the threshold of the boys' dormitory, seeing all the beds except Harry's empty. Harry lay there, fully clothed, filthy, still wearing his glasses, and absolutely fast asleep. She paced over to him silently, subconsciously holding her breath, and looked down on him. He looked awful. He looked skinnier than she had ever seen him, he was gaunt and had large dark rings under his eyes. His clothes were dirty, ripped and blood-stained, his hair a long, tangled mess. She could see a partially healed welt surrounding his neck, as if in the position of a necklace. He looked horrific, but he was there. Unmistakably alive and there. So close she could touch him. She tentatively reached her hand towards him and brushed some of the hair out of his face with a feather light touch. Ginny jerked her hand back on contact, shocked to have actually felt him. She had almost expected him to evaporate like a dream as her fingers approached his face.

He was here. It had been almost a year since she had been on her own in a room with him, and she had thought she never would be again, but for the whole year she had gritted her teeth and refused to dwell on the matter. The world was at war, her family were heavily involved, and the love of her life was responsible for the fate of them all. She had refused to be Harry Potter's weepy ex. Ginny was more than that, and she had wanted to do her bit. She had started the resistance movement at Hogwarts, and thrown all her efforts into it; it was both a passion and a distraction.

Ginny hadn't realised how much of an emotional dam she had built over the past year, until it broke.

The thick, strong wall of emotion hit her so hard it almost winded her. She felt everything. Fred's death, Harry's death, Harry alive, Tonks gone, Bellatrix's attack, Voldemort gone, her family torn apart. And the war, the anger, the bitterness, the worry; every emotion she had refused to let dominate her all year cascaded over her in an overwhelming deluge. She sat on the edge of Harry's bed, struggling to draw breath, the tears finally falling, as wave after wave of feeling hit her.

Harry didn't wake; she supposed his exhaustion must be so intense that he could sleep for a week, but he stirred in response to her sobs.

'Ginny…' he mumbled in his sleep. That stilled her. Harry lay quiet again, his breathing returning to the slow, heavy rhythm of someone deeply asleep. Ginny bit her lip, feeling somehow whole and empty at the same time. It was all too much, the grief, the victory – how was someone supposed to process all this at once? She couldn't. All she knew was that she wanted it to stop. She wanted to get away from it all, just be out of her head, just a few more hours of not feeling like this.

Ginny looked at Harry again. He had probably gone through this exact same thing, and he had found the answer. Sleep.

Without even thinking about it, she clambered onto the bed and crawled up to Harry, who was lying on his side. She carefully took off his glasses and curled into him, her back pressing against his chest as if it was the most natural thing in the world. As if instinctively, Harry's arm moved to clasp her securely around the waist. Ginny felt his warmth, and his steady breaths on the back of her neck. He's alive, she told herself again, that's all you need to think about tonight. He's alive. She blocked out everything else; she could deal with that later. Right now, all she wanted was to lie here in his arms, and sleep.

Ginny awoke groggily, with an immense amount of effort. It felt more like being dragged out of a vat of thick, black treacle rather than waking up. Sleep had such a firm grip on her that it took many failed attempts to actually reach true consciousness. There was a lot of dipping between deep and shallow blackness, then being vaguely aware of a stark brightness. When she finally did manage to reach the fluttering eyelids stage, she was dragged insistently back down to slumber again by the black tendrils of sleep. She was aware of desperately wanting to wake up, but also being scared of what awaited her when she did. The world of consciousness is often far more wonderful and terrifying than any dream or nightmare – and she knew she was waking to both.

Eventually, she opened her eyes and took in the world around her. Harry was still wrapped around her securely, in exactly the same position they had been in last night. Bright summer sunshine shone through the window next to Harry's bed, making her squint. She didn't know how long they had been sleeping. It could have been a few hours, a whole day, perhaps a week. She had lost all concept of time. The room was still empty except for their presence, which struck her as odd. Of course, Ron would be wherever Hermione was, so maybe they had thought it might be a bit odd to join Ginny and Harry in the dorm. Perhaps Neville had looked in, but decided to give the pair some privacy. Ginny didn't feel in the least bit guilty about this. She knew when they left this room Harry was going to be subjected to press conferences and idolisation by the community at large, and general fussing over and smothering by those who cared about him. However, she knew their friends were tactful enough to leave them alone until they were ready. Merlin knew they both deserved and needed it.

Everything from yesterday came back to her in a rush, and threatened to knock her into hysterics – but she pushed it away. She had weeks ahead of her to be sad, and she would be… when she was ready to deal with it all. But right now, in this room, it was all about Harry and her. She had been longing for this for months and months, and she would not spend it weeping in his arms… not yet, anyway.

Harry's breathing was shallow next to her; she knew he was only lightly sleeping. Soon, he would be awake. Her heart stopped. Soon, they would both be awake and alone. This had been all Ginny had ever hoped for since the start of the war… and so much longer.

She flipped over to her other side, so she was almost nose-to-nose with him. She smiled at his grimy, sleeping face. His wild hair was full of bits of leaf litter and twig, not to mention dried blood. Oh Harry, she thought – almost rolling her eyes, I think I've seen you covered in blood and dirt more often than I've seen you clean. She giggled. It wasn't funny really, but somehow the fact he had survived so much seemed utterly ridiculous. Against the odds. Impossible. Yet, here he was. He'd made it. And now, she would hopefully never see him in such a state again – except, of course, when he sustained stupid quidditch injuries. She giggled again, a big, bright genuine smile on her face. It felt strange, but so right, on her lips.

Her giggling had roused Harry, who's eyes opened slowly and blearily to look at her. To her shock, the giggle caught in her throat and the smile died on her lips; she felt overcome with… rage.

Harry's look of confusion at seeing her in his bed went to a smile and then back again so quickly it would have been amusing… had she not been so angry. Ginny knew he had registered her fury, because there was a little flicker of apprehension in his eyes.

She wasn't even sure if her brain had caught up with her heart as to the reason why she was angry, before she was on top of him and swatting every inch of him she could reach.

'Ow… OW! Ginny! What the…. Hey!' Said Harry in consternation.

'You BASTARD, Harry Potter!' she said, between thwacks, 'Fricking taking yourself off to the forest and sacrificing yourself! You absolute PRAT!'

'I had to… OW… I had to, Gin! Get off!'

'Didn't even have time for a sodding goodbye, did you, oh mighty 'chosen one'! Honestly, do you have to be so bloody noble all the bloody time!?'

'Ginny! Ow! I'm sorry!'

'Oh yeah, that's all I ever hear!' she thundered at him, 'Ginny, I'm sorry to dump you, but I need to protect you from the evil wizard who's been stalking me all my life, Ginny, I'm sorry to run off into the middle of God knows where doing God knows what, but I'm off to stalk said dark wizard who's stalking me, Ginny, excuse me but I have to go and FUCKING SACRIFICE MYSELF FOR THE GOOD OF MANKIND.' You know what, Harry Potter? You need to stop being so unbelievably suicidal!'

'Ow, alright, I…. Aaahhh!' The genuine gasp of pain stopped her hitting him, and she was suddenly concerned. She hadn't been hitting him hard enough to actually hurt him. He had hissed in pain when her hand had met contact with the left side of his chest. She grabbed her wand from under the pillow where she had stored it. Harry flinched.

'Steady on, Ginny!' He said, eyeing her wand with trepidation.

'Take off your T-shirt.'

He seemed to decide that it was best not to argue with her at the moment, although he looked rather confused. He pulled off the torn, smelly, bloodstained shirt, and Ginny discarded it distastefully – throwing away a piece of the evidence of the horrors he had faced. When she looked down upon his chest, she gasped with shock. There was an immense, odious black bruise centred over his heart. It spread into ugly purple tendrils that splayed out like an ink blot.

'Harry… what is that?'

'It… it's where the killing curse hit…' he said nervously.

Damn. He had really been that close to death. The anger was gone for now though, and had been replaced with pity.

'Oh, Harry…'

She reached behind her head and pulled on a chain that was hanging around her neck. Hanging from it was a tiny drawstring bag. She opened it, and reached her hand into the impossible depths.

Harry frowned in recognition.

'That looks familiar…'

'Hermione set me up with it before she left with you and Ron. Undetectable extension charm… it's a general emergency kit… healing potions, a contact galleon, a portkey…'

'She really thinks of everything, that girl…' said Harry in admiration.

'Good thing too… I bet you two dunderheads would have ended up dead without her.' Ginny said wryly. She pulled a few bottles out of the bag.

'Yeah… we would have done.' Agreed Harry.

She looked at him. He was staring at her apologetically.

'I… I understand how you must have felt, Gin… with us all gone and stuff… must have been something like how I felt to know you were here with a load of Death Eaters… you know, I used to… um… watch your dot on the Marauder's Map… just to make sure you were alright…'

Her heart softened.

'I still can't believe you're alright…' she said quietly. He was looking at her intently, his beautiful green eyes fixed on hers. 'I keep expecting to wake up and find it was all a dream.'

'Come here, Ginny.' Harry said softly, tugging her arm towards him.

'After I've sorted this mess out.' She said, indicating his chest.

'No.' Said Harry. He pulled her down so she was lying on her side next to him, 'Now.'

And before she even had time to scold him for his bossiness, or put down the bottles, he had tangled one hand in her hair, and with the other he tilted her chin upwards. Her breath hitched in anticipation. This is it… this is the beginning, our first kiss as free people… and slowly, as though he was savouring the moment, his lips met hers with tender assertion. Oh, it was so right. So easy and natural and perfect. Such wonderful familiar territory to be back on, it was like going home. It was all the same as she ever remembered. Tenacious, passionate, seamless. He pulled at her lips with his; soft, insistent tugs that were so… Harry. She pushed into him as their intensity grew, wrapping her arms around his chest and holding tight, never intending to let go.

'Aaahh!' He hissed in pain again.

'Alright,' she said, loosening her grip on him reluctantly. 'That's enough of that for now… what am I supposed to do with you in that state!?' She smirked.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

'What are you implying, Miss Weasley?'

'Only that we deserve at least a rampant, lengthy snog-athon… probably more, after what we've both been through, and what I have in mind doesn't involve you wincing every few seconds.'

Harry grinned at her.

'I think a shower would be in order too, Potter,' she said playfully, 'considering we're both covered in God knows what and absolutely reek of sweat.'

'Well… that is how I like my women.' Said Harry seriously.

She laughed – actually laughed a normal laugh. Not a strained shriek of forced laughter she had got used to, nor a hushed giggle when you had to be careful who would hear you, but a true, genuine laugh. Harry smiled at her.

'I've missed that noise.'

'Me too…' she said. 'Ok, let me look at you.'

She sat back up again, and tentatively placed a hand in the centre of the bruise – it was huge. Harry didn't react – although knowing him he was just hiding the pain.

'Looks like a few broken ribs… and I hope that's all it is… I have no idea what effect the killing curse can have when it doesn't… you know… kill you.'

'At least it didn't give me a maddeningly obvious scar this time.'

Ginny smiled. 'I dunno, the lightning bolt is pretty cool, you might have got something good.'

'Like what?' snorted Harry, 'A raincloud? A fireball? A snowflake perhaps?'

'Awwww! A snowflake! Now that would have been adorable…'

Harry laughed. 'Shut it, you.'

'Anyway, I think I've got some skele-gro in here…'

'Urgh.' Said Harry, making a face. 'Do I have to take that?'

'It's only a few broken bones this time – not regrowing a whole arm! It'll be a small dose and will all be done in half an hour…'

'How do you know all this about healing?' Harry said with awe.

'This year taught me a lot…' she said grimly, not wanting to tell him the amount of times she had to sort out the victims of the Carrows' torture, or indeed how many times she had had to put herself back to rights. She'd even become quite an expert in brewing healing potions.

She poured out a small measure of skele-gro into a conjured glass and handed it to Harry, who took it begrudgingly, eyeing it with distaste.

'C'mon, Potter, you've just saved the wizarding world from the most dangerous dark wizard ever known, and you're getting all hesitant about a bit of nasty medicine?'

'Alright, alright,' said Harry with a grimace, and quickly threw back the cup of potion. He shuddered. She knew how he felt – the burning sensation you got from swallowing skele-gro wasn't like firewhiskey, as she had imagined it would be the first time she had it, but more like ingesting liquid pepper.

'Ok…' she said gently, 'Guess we should just relax for half an hour or so.'

Harry looked disappointed. 'No more snogging?'

She smiled at him. 'I can manage snogging if you can.'

He smirked, and leaned up to kiss her –

'Ah!' he cried, clutching at his bruised chest, 'think it's started working…'

'Knew you couldn't…' she gloated. Harry frowned playfully.

'Tease.'

'Anyway, I want to take care of this bruise… so just lie still a minute.'

She took the other pot that she had laid aside and unscrewed the cap. Inside was a thick, blue, sweet smelling paste. She scooped out a generous measure and began to rub it very gently onto the enormous bruise. It was surprisingly effective, practically erasing the bruise on contact.

'Wow…' Harry said.

'Looks like it didn't do any lasting damage… it really was just a couple of broken ribs…' She smiled with relief. She had half expected it to leave some lingering after effect – like the way Harry's scar had always connected him to Voldemort… but he really was free now.

'So… we have just under half an hour before you can move…'

'Ow!' said Harry in confirmation. Ginny giggled, but then fell silent and chewed her lip. She knew she shouldn't ask, she should wait until he was ready to tell her, but -

'… are you gonna tell me what you were up to this year?' she blurted.

She had waited a whole year, and it had been so hard not knowing what was happening, and not understanding why he couldn't tell her. She needed answers.

Harry looked at her intently, his gaze meeting hers apologetically.

'I wanted to tell you all along, Gin… it wasn't that I didn't trust you… it's just the information would have been so dangerous… I couldn't risk it… I couldn't risk you.'

'I know that, Harry… but please… I have to know – even if only the short version for now.'

Harry took a deep breath.

'Ok, Gin… well…' he paused and looked into her eyes. 'We were looking for horcruxes…'

'Horcruxes?' She said blankly, 'What the Hell is a horcrux?'

Harry told her the whole story, what horcruxes were, how they had found them, how they had destroyed them… how he knew about her and the Sword of Gryffindor, how he had nearly been killed in Bathilda's house, how they had escaped Malfoy Manor, how they had broken into Gringotts and then Hogwarts, Snape's memories, sneaking into the forest, surrendering himself…

Ginny was trying very hard to hold back her anger. She knew it was irrational; he had had to do everything he had done – but he had nearly died so many times, and she was furious with him for that. He had so nearly left her alone, and it wasn't fair.

'… and I got to him, Gin… I was… scared… but I knew what I had to do. I knew if I died for the people I wanted to save, they would be protected… like what my mother did for me. And… and I thought of you. In my last seconds, I thought of you – and that look of yours…' he was smiling at her, 'the look you're wearing right now, actually…'

Ginny was speechless. She didn't know what to think – whether to still be furious with him for being so flipping stupid, or to swoon into his arms and cry her heart out. He seized the advantage of her being struck dumb to deal the deathblow.

'I thought of you because… I knew if I died for you, they wouldn't be able to touch you… because… because I love you so much.'

Yep. He was safe now. The bastard. She couldn't help it; in spite of herself… she swooned.

She threw herself at him, pressing her body flush against him and burying her head in his neck. He hissed in pain but there was nothing she could do to retract herself from him. Ginny scrunched up her eyes, trying not to let herself cry, but it was no good. The tears were falling thick and fast; she tried to keep silent, but knew he would be able to feel the wetness on his neck and he would know that she was crying.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead.

'But it turned out ok, didn't it Gin? We're both here, aren't we?'

'If… if you ever nearly get yourself k…killed again, Harry Potter,' she choked out between sobs, 'I'll murder you.'

He chuckled. 'Yes boss.'

'For fuck's sake…' she mumbled thickly, 'of all the people on the planet to fall in love with, I get Harry 'I have at least three near-death experiences a year' Potter…'

'I know.' Harry said seriously, 'I'm sure Dean is still available you know…'

'Nah… he's with Lavender now…'

'Oh, shame. I thought you two made a lovely couple.'

'Really!?' said Ginny, in mock joy.

'No. I wanted to rip his balls off and choke him with them.'

She giggled, wiping her eyes and nose on his neck.

Harry snorted in disgust. 'Thanks for that, Ginny. You're such a lady.'

'Be grateful that's the worst you've got – I was pretty mad.'

'I'd never have guessed…' said Harry dryly.

They both lay their quietly for a while, holding each other tight. Harry turned to look at her, his grimy face wearing a strange expression.

'This… I've wanted this for so long… and now I can have it.'

She smiled at him, 'you could have always had it, Harry.'

'No I couldn't… there was always something else… some massive priority or responsibility, or there was the crippling guilt of putting you in harm's way…' he looked down on her in wonderment. 'Now… it's all gone… there's nothing niggling in the back of my head… my scar doesn't twinge… I can live my life now…'

He frowned, puzzled.

'Is this… is this how normal people feel?'

'You're asking the wrong person, mate.' She replied with a grin, 'ask someone who hasn't been in love with 'the boy who kept on nearly getting himself killed' for six years.'

'In love with me, eh?' Harry said, a small smile on his face.

'I've always loved you. Against my better judgement, I'm afraid.' She said grimly.

He smiled at her sarcasm, but his expression suddenly went serious.

'I love you too, Ginny. More than I've ever loved anything… or anyone…'

Her heart beat strongly in response to his words. She bit her lip…

'I think the skele-gro has done its work…' he murmured to her.

That was all the encouragement she needed. She flung herself at him with a year's worth of pent up emotion, pulling his body to hers and kissing him with absolute desperation. She needed to feel this, she was still having trouble believing this wasn't some very good dream. He kissed her back in equal measure; furious, passionate, desperate. Lips tugging, tongues bashing, teeth nipping. He rolled onto one shoulder so he was leaning over her, and he looked down on her with an expression more tender than any she had ever seen. He took a hand and stroked down her cheek, his fingers lingering to play with a lock of fiery hair.

'Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Ginny?' He said softly.

'I do… it has been said that I'm some rather hot totty, you know.'

He rolled his eyes. 'I'm going to have to do something about that smart mouth, Weasley.'

'Oh really?' she said, smirking naughtily, 'And what do you plan to do, Potter?'

Harry raised his eyebrows in a 'don't mess with me' sort of way, and leaned down to kiss her once more.

She ran her hands up his naked back, feeling the warmth of his bare skin. She moved her hands around to his chest, touching him all over, just to make sure he was truly there. He was. Tears began to leak from her eyes again. It was too much to take in… so she just lay there, kissing him, touching him, feeling his warmth, and let the feelings overtake her.

She lay naked in his arms, staring up at his gorgeous face. In this room, the rest of the world was forgotten. It was a safe haven from the grief that she knew awaited them both. Neither of them spoke about the battle, wanting to preserve the perfection for just a little longer. He was staring at her lovingly, languidly tracing shapes on her bare back, occasionally pressing kisses to her forehead. Ginny had always appreciated how gorgeous Harry was, and as he lay exposed next to her, she came to know it all the more. In fact, she didn't think he had ever looked so beautiful as he did now, even though he was so dirty that you could tell where his clothes had been from the griminess of his arms and face. His hair was a state and he was covered in cuts, bruises and dried blood. She knew she was as bad, and she was pretty sure that between the two of them they must reek to high heaven, but she didn't care. It was raw and real, and that had made their coupling even more special.

Something flickered in Harry's eyes… something sad. No, she implored him wordlessly, not yet... just a bit longer, please?

But she knew it was time… they had stolen all the moments they could for now. They couldn't hide from everything forever. The thought of what awaited them out there scared her. Harry being pounced on by everyone, her grieving family, being told who else had died…

'We have to go down, Gin…' he said firmly, but the certainty didn't reach his eyes.

'I know, Harry…' she said sadly. 'I… I'm scared…'

'Yeah…' Harry whispered. 'But I'll look after you, ok?'

She nodded. The grief was creeping up on her now.

'Besides…' Harry said to her, 'if we don't wash soon, we run the risk of becoming a health hazard…'

She giggled in spite of herself, and took a deep, steeling breath.

'Ok, 'The Boy Who Lived', 'The Chosen One', 'Grand Supreme Saviour of the Universe', or whatever they're going to be calling you now… shall we get this over and done with?'

He nodded, and reluctantly withdrew his arms from around her. He got up, and paced across the room towards Neville's bed. She admired his naked form as he went to Neville's trunk, grinning appreciatively.

'I'm sure Neville won't mind if I borrow some of his clothes…' he said, 'Mine are filthy, and Hermione has all my other stuff in her bag.'

He pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt as she watched. She continued to lie there in the bed with his now fading warmth, reluctant to move.

He stood and stared at her intently.

'What?!' she said in mock annoyance as he looked keenly at her naked body.

'Nothing…' he said, grinning broadly, 'just committing stuff to memory.'

She mock 'hmphed', and looked for a clean outfit in her little drawstring bag.

When they were both fully dressed and decent, they wandered nervously towards the entrance of the dorm. Harry looked at her, and held out his hand. She took it gratefully.

'Don't let go, ok?' he said, and she wasn't sure if he was being protective or he was asking her to protect him. Perhaps both.

'I never did.' She replied quietly. She never would either.

Thanks so much for reading! Please review ;)