In Retrospect

I never really forgave him, you know, after all the dust settled and the 'heroes' were buried. I never told him that I was angry and extremely put out by the way he chose to push me aside for my own 'protection.' He misjudged me and by doing so, made me bitter and jaded.

So how did I get to where I am today?

Well, I'll tell you.

A few days after Voldemort and his cronies were either killed or shuttled off to Azkaban, I was sitting on the steps leading into Hogwarts. We all stayed there for a while, simply because he couldn't bear going home after losing those that we loved. We had just buried Fred in the new cemetery at Hogwarts, near Dumbledore's tomb, and I wanted to be alone. I never was alone much ever since my parents shuttled me off to Muriel's. Anyway, I sat on the steps, looking out over the grounds of one of my favourite places in the world, which was in serious need of repair. I sensed, rather than heard him approach me, and didn't say anything when he sat down next to me. I steeled myself for the speech I knew was coming, the one where he tries to explain why he left me, why he didn't want my help and why he thought things would never be the same again. I imagined all this in the span of a few seconds before he ever spoke.

"Ginny, there's something I need to tell you."

Here we go. Breathe, Ginny.

"Okay."

"I know you are a strong gir--woman and that I've underestimated you."

He paused, as if waiting for me to answer. I didn't.

"I know that you are more than capable of taking care of yourself. Hell, you proved it when you were fourteen."

So he does remember that.

I still said nothing.

"I want you to know that I never thought you were too young to fight."

Wait, that wasn't part of the speech I imagined.

"I knew that you were stubborn enough to say 'Screw this' and make up your own mind to follow everyone else into the fighting."

Well, that was true. Once Tonks arrived, that is what I said to myself.

"I never really said that I didn't want you to come with us, either. I had other reasons."

Here we go. He's going to say how he wanted me to 'stay safe.'

"I thought about you all the time, Ginny. I would look at Hermione and wish it was you sitting across the table from me instead. I listened to Ron breathe when he slept and wondered if you slept as hard as he does."

I do, but I don't snore. And if anyone says I do, I'll Bat-Bogey Hex them into next year. Women do not snore.

"You know what?"

"What?"

I barely recognized my voice as I answered him.

"When I went into the forest, right before I 'died'..."

I don't wanna think about that, I don't wanna think about that. I hate that he had to do that. I hate the way he deceived us and made me feel as if my heart were ripped to shreds. Part of me died out there that night and I doubt whatever he's going to say will make any difference.

"...when my parents, Sirius and Remus were standing there with me..."

Oh GOD why does he have to bring this up again? It was hard enough hearing it the first time he told us all what happened out there and here he is, going through it all again.

"...there was only one thing I could think about while I waited for him to curse me."

Yeah, he wondered how Ron and Hermione would ever get along without him. That would be tantamount to losing one's sight, I suppose.

"Ginny, look at me."

I turned toward him and see his eyes are brimming with tears. He hasn't cried much since the battle and I'm surprised to see that he's actually giving into emotion.

"Ginny, I want you to know that I would never lie to you. That I would never lead you into believe something that wasn't true."

Like that he cared about me?

"Ginny, the last thing I though about before he hit me with the curse..."

He sniffed and tears flow freely down his face. He doesn't bother to wipe them aside.

"The last thing I thought about was you."

What?

"I thought about how I would never know what it was like to lay next to you and hold you while you slept. I thought about how I'd never know what your children would look like. I thought about how I would be waiting for you one day on the other side when you died. That's what I thought about."

Oh God, I'm crying. I don't cry.

"And when...after I spoke with Dumbledore and decided to come back, the first thing I thought of was you."

This isn't fair.

"I thought that now I'd have the chance to make it up to you. To tell you everything and apologize until my dying day that I didn't bring you with me because I knew that if I did, I'd be too worried that something would happen to you and not be able to concentrate."

He's pulling out all the stops.

"My heart wouldn't allow me to put you in that much danger."

This is the part I was expecting.

"I know you told me you didn't care if you had to die. I just couldn't let that happen. I couldn't...I just couldn't."

"But that wasn't for you to decide, Harry."

"I know. But I'm selfish when it comes to the people I love. I want to have them around as long as possible."

Love?

"I know I messed up. I know that you have a million reasons to hate me. But I want you to know that I would crawl across the desert on my hands and knees just to have you forgive me. That's how much I love you, Ginny. That's why I came back. To love you."

I said nothing as he got up from the steps, taking two at a time. Ron called after him, but Harry's steps fade as he continued to run.

After that, I was so confused. In a round about way, he'd told me that he loved me--something I'd waited to hear for years. I wanted to throttle him for leaving me, for making me feel like a porcelain doll to be cherished and protected. At the same time, I wanted to jump on him and kiss him, to tell him I loved him back, to let the world know that I was his girl.

His girl.

But I'm not solely his. I belong to myself and have to remember that I was Ginny long before I was ever his Ginny and that I'll always be Ginny. I can't lose who I am just because I'm with Harry Potter.

I didn't want to forgive him, but I didn't want to make him miserable, either. I didn't want to be that girl whose elbow fell into the butter dish when I was around him but I just couldn't help feel like I was eleven again. What was wrong with me?

When we went back to The Burrow, Harry changed. He picked flowers for me from the back garden. He gave me the biggest piece of treacle tart when I knew it was his favourite. He even bought me a kitten for my birthday, a little calico one with big blue eyes that he named Pumpkin.

The armour I put myself in began to chink away bit by bit and I soon felt the bitterness give way to affection and affection give way to...well, I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I love him. Despite everything that he put me through, from ignoring me for four years to breaking up with me after the best month of our lives, I couldn't NOT fall in love with him, you know?

He kissed me for the first time again at Christmas of 1998. Mum had sprinkled mistletoe everywhere around the house. She loved seeing people kiss and be in love, even if it was her own children. Bill and Fleur were trying to have a baby. Ron and Hermione were wrapped around each other like a bun around a frankfurter. Even Mum and Dad were all touchy-feely. It was rather disgusting.

I was helping Mum bring out food from the kitchen into the sitting room-cum- dining room and had a bowl of mashed potatoes in my hands when I literally bumped into Harry. As luck would have it, Mum had placed a sprig of mistletoe on the doorframe. Harry noticed it before I did, and took the bowl from my hands and placed it on the sideboard to my left. His hands went to my face and I'd forgotten how textured they were: calluses and soft skin on long fingers. When his lips met mine, a sighed into him, melting against his body before his tongue even went into my mouth. I don't know how long we stood there, our lips moving against the others, hands moving over curves and hard lines. I was light-headed and speechless when we finally pulled away from one another. Someone cleared their throat and I turned, red-faced, to my entire family and smiled.

I never verbalized my forgiveness nor did I express the deep-seated anger that I felt up until that point. But somehow, it went unsaid, yet understood, that I had got over it all. I did, really, I did. If I didn't I wouldn't be here.

If I didn't, I wouldn't be standing next to him wearing long, white dress robes and a new ring on my left hand.

He kept his promise. He came back to love me.