Harry Potter and the Rise of the Phoenix

Chapter Eight ~ Love

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But God only knows
It's getting hard to see
The sun coming through.
I love you...
But what are we going to do?

Gorillaz ~ Every Planet
We Reach Is Dead

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Harry sat down in a large, overstuffed armchair, full to bursting and on the whole happy. Plus, he was exhausted, neither from the food nor from the good company, but because he was tired. It seemed like he was always tired lately, but now there was a good reason. The weekend had been a whirlwind of activity filled with flying and rehabilitation. When it had been time for everyone to take a portkey to Hermione's, Harry had hoped for a time to rest. Sitting down now, this was the first time since he arrived that he could just sit and look around him.

Harry liked Hermione's home, particularly her room. The room fit her; it was a combination of Muggle and magical, the two cultures that had shaped her into the woman she was. Harry looked over at his two best friends and couldn't help grinning at what he saw. Hermione sat on a loveseat next to Ron while she was speaking with her mother and Mrs. Weasley, who were sitting near her in chairs. Mr. Granger was having what seemed to be a pretty serious conversation with a very nervous Ron. His best mate had an arm wrapped around Hermione protectively and was answering every question Hermione's father asked him.

Remus entered the room and took the seat next to Harry's. He smiled at Harry and let out a long sigh as he sat in a chair just as overstuffed and comfortable as the one Harry was in. "These chairs are good for old men like me."

"And young men like me," Harry replied. He was surprised when Remus frowned at the comment. "What?"

"You're too young to be complaining about aches and pains, Harry," Remus replied. "How's the rehabilitation going?"

"It's going," Harry replied. "Quirke seems impressed by it, but..."

"It's too slow for you," Remus finished for him. "Just keep at it. Don't push too much, or you'll do more damage." Harry rolled his eyes. "Just humor an old man, Harry."

"Alright, I promise to listen to Quirke," Harry said. "So, how is it being married?" Harry asked, effectively changing the conversation.

"Great, but right now, I'm worried. My wife is missing, along with my sister," Remus mused. "Do you know what that most likely means?"

"No," Harry replied honestly.

"Well, seeing as your girlfriend is missing as well, I think I should warn you," Remus said solemnly. "It probably means they're planning something. Knowing Thia and Tonks, it's most likely a prank." Remus paused and looked at Harry. A dark look had crossed the boy's face. "What's the matter?"

Harry looked into the fire and sighed. "I'm not sure she is my girlfriend anymore," he told the older man. "I think I've messed things up good."

"That girl loves you," Remus assured his best friend's son. "You couldn't possibly mess up enough to drive her away from you forever. It'd be impossible." Remus let out a quick laugh. "Since your father never managed to drive your mum away, I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"Did my dad ever do stuff like I've done?" Harry asked.

"No, but he did other, stupider, and far more damaging things," Remus told him. "Harry, Ginny loves you, nothing in the world will change that. True Love does not end."

"Okay," Harry finally said in agreement. "So, what do you think they're up to?"

"I don't want to know," Remus admitted. "Better to find out the hard way than to know it's coming and still get it. Or worse, avoid it and then have to deal with the angry women afterwards." Harry smiled knowing that Thia and Tonks would hate it if one of their pranks didn't turn out.

"It's been some year, hasn't it?" Harry said, changing the topic completely yet again. It had been on his mind a lot recently. Being stuck in a hospital wing gave him loads of time to think and think he did.

"It has," Remus agreed. "A year ago, I still thought my sister was dead. I was still mourning Sirius' death. Hell, I hadn't even asked Tonks on our first date yet. It's amazing what can happen to a man in just twelve months."

"You're telling me," Harry muttered. "Everything I worried about then seems so pathetic now. It sucks having your worst enemy living in your skin."

"What do you mean by that?" Remus asked slightly alarmed. "Voldemort giving you problems?"

"No," Harry answered. "He hasn't been bothering me, except for last Tuesday night."

"Then who were you talking about?" Remus asked, this time confused.

"Myself," Harry replied. The older man seemed to pale at this. "Sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Remus asked. Harry shook his head; no, he definitely didn't want to talk about that. But there was one thing that he did want to talk about and he couldn't figure out how to bring it up. He suspected that after he had fallen asleep, Remus and the others had gone to visit the Dursleys. The thought of that tormented Harry. He hadn't wanted to bother his relatives anymore. What had occurred between them was neither their fault nor his.

Throwing Harry in with the Dursleys had been a grave mistake on Dumbledore's part. Harry had to agree that in theory it had been the best plan, yet it had turned against them. There was too much hate between Petunia and her memory of Lily. Vernon had too many prejudices against imagination, wizardry, and his wife's sister to ever accept her nephew. And Dudley, well, Dudley had been the product of the two.

"What dark thoughts are you thinking?" Remus asked him.

"Nothing," Harry answered quickly. Remus nodded in acceptance. They sat, Remus watching Harry, and Harry staring into the fireplace. "Did you guys hurt them?" Harry finally asked, not able to keep it to himself. Remus looked from him to the fireplace in guilt. "You didn't hurt them; please tell me you didn't hurt them."

"It all depends on what you mean by hurt them," Remus replied. "We didn't hex them or punch them if that's what you mean. Molly did jinx them a little, and she wrote a letter to Mary-Ann about the abuse."

"Oh, no, no, no," Harry muttered under his breath. "Why couldn't you just let them be?" he asked out loud, trying to keep his voice down.

"You wanted us to let them get away with how they treated you? With their abuse?" Mrs. Weasley asked, slightly angered by the thought.

"Yes," Harry answered his own temper igniting. "They had nothing to do with my attempted suicide. I hope you didn't tell them they did." Mrs. Weasley looked away, answering his question.

"Don't you see? You proved to them that witches and wizards are freaks. You treated them as if they weren't human, confirming their beliefs. Revenge only creates the need for more revenge. They may be scum, but you shouldn't have treated them like that. You've got to be the bigger person." Harry stood up, furious. Thia, Tonks, and Ginny entered the room, but stopped when they saw the anger in Harry's eyes.

"I know they're scum," Harry yelled. "You don't have to tell me that, I know better than anyone! But, in the long run, they're not worth it. In the long run, you're better than that. That's why I didn't want to tell you. That's why I've never told you more then I must. Because I can just forget them, even forgive them, but you can't. Don't you see? All you've done is prove to them that you're the freaks they always thought you were!"

"So you think we're freaks now?" Ginny asked her temper just as hot as his. He was yelling at her mother, and her mother was close to tears.

"I don't, but they do," Harry replied. "And they're not even the ones that need to be punished. Not in the least. If you want to lash out at someone I've got a long list of people you can lash out at, and none of them are muggles."

"Then name them," Ginny challenged.

"Nott, Bellatrix, Avery, Nose Picker," with every name, those around him grew paler. "The Lestrange brothers, Malfoy, Mask, Wart, Dolohov, Brute, Fidget, and Him."

"Say his name, Harry!" Ginny commanded him. Harry shook his head. "Say his name!" Harry walked over to the fire moodily, turning his back on the room. He tried to stop his hands from shaking, but he couldn't. "Say it!"

"I can't!" Harry screamed, turning to face her and the rest of the room. "I can't," he repeated in a whisper, turning back, unable to face them, the shame of the admission burning him.

"Why not?" Thia asked softly. Harry ignored her, hoping that she would just let it go. He didn't want to talk about that. He wasn't even sure why he couldn't say it any longer. Harry didn't want to think about the reason why, he just knew he couldn't. "Harry?"

"Because..." Harry answered. "Please, don't ask."

"Harry, you can't keep it all inside," Thia replied. "It isn't healthy. You must draw out the poison before it kills you."

"I can't," Harry replied, barely audible. His body was shaking now, so he rested a hand against the fireplace mantle to steady himself. The memories were threatening to overwhelm him yet again. Harry started to breathe deeply, trying to calm down, trying to win against the panic that was starting to come. Down he fell, deep into the darkness of his nightmares.

"Luv," a gentle voice called, next to his ear. Ginny's calming hand caressed his hair. The other slid around his waist, and she held him close. Harry leaned back into the embrace, the love reminding him that not all nightmares go on forever. Her chin rested on his shoulder, and she whispered in his ear. "Don't be afraid. Don't tremble, don't fear. We won't hurt you. We don't want you to fear. We love you, Harry. Do you hear me? We love you. We only want to help. Please, Luv, let us. Let us help you."

Harry turned in her arms and looked into her eyes, his tortured and haunted, hers full of love and trust. A fleeting look of fear and uncertainty were in them, before the love returned, a strength in it that made Harry smile. "I don't know, Gin. I can't let you. Please, forgive me." His arms wrapped around her, hugging her. "It's dark... so dark. I'm so alone."

A strong hand gripped his shoulder. "You're not alone," Ron's voice assured him. "You were never alone. You'll never be alone. We're here for you, Harry. We will always be here." Ron paused; it seemed that whatever else he wanted to say couldn't be expressed in words. When he could speak again, his voice was thick with emotion. "We're here for you, Harry. For you."

"No, no, no," Harry started muttering, dreams of the past coming back to him. The nightmares of Death Eaters capturing and torturing them because they were his friends hit him forcefully. He would do that to them, just to hurt Harry. He didn't want to be the cause of that. "No, no, you'll only end up dead. Dead like everyone else. Please, just go away. Hide." He pushed out of Ginny's embrace, and shook Ron's hand from his shoulder. "Leave me alone. You'll just die." He started to leave the room, to get out of the house.

Hermione stepped in front of him, grabbed his shoulders and pleaded with him. "No, please, Harry, sit. Let us help you. Talk to us. Please, Harry, please. Don't stay in the dark alone. We'll take our chances, and if we die, at least we'll die with good memories of our amazing friends. We love you, Harry. Don't push us away. Please, don't. Please." Harry looked away. Over her shoulder he saw Remus and Tonks holding onto each other. Thia was watching him, fear in her eyes. Mrs. Weasley was crying along with Mrs. Granger. "Please, Harry," she begged softly.

He looked at her, and then pushed her away. Hermione fell to the floor, a soft sob escaping her lips. "No, no, no," Harry chanted. He pushed past Thia and out of the room, running from the ghosts in his head. They didn't know what it meant. What did they know of the horrors of... of... Him? He rushed outside, and collapsed on the back patio. He was shaking again.

"Don't cry, Luv," Ginny murmured, throwing her arms around him. "Don't cry."

Harry pulled away and looked at Ginny, his eyes dry. "Gin," he whispered back. "I can't cry. I don't know how. I can't remember."

"Oh, Harry," she sighed into his hair. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, one hand running through her loose auburn hair. "Have you forgotten love?"

"I've forgotten many things, Gin, many things," Harry admitted into her hair.

"Do not forget love," Ginny told him fervently. She looked at him and then closed the distance between them, kissing him. When she broke it she whispered into his ear, "We love you, Harry. I love you. We will not leave you." She stood, pulling him up with her. She helped him over to a more secluded spot, sitting him on a bench and curling up on his lap.

"Ginny, that's one of the few things I do remember," he assured her. She smiled at him and Harry felt his heart race. The most beautiful girl in the world was on his lap and had smiled because of him. He kissed her, trying to tell her just what she meant to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oy, Potter, that's my sister!"

Harry disentangled himself from Ginny, knowing full well that it wasn't Ron that had shouted. Ginny smiled up at him and then stood, pulling her shirt the rest of the way down.

"Who asked you to interrupt, Charlie?" Ginny asked her brother coolly.

"I did," he replied.

"Well, seeing that the only people who matter at the moment are me and Harry, you can just bugger off," Ginny informed her brother, her hand straying to her wand.

"You aren't scaring me away this time, Ginny," Charlie told his little sister. "I've seen good guys go through rough times and then use their girlfriends afterwards. I'm not going to watch my little sister become one of those girls."

"Well, I'm glad you're going away," Ginny said with a laugh. "Harry and I were in the middle of something."

"So I saw," Charlie remarked dryly, "along with the other Order members patrolling this side of the house. Go inside, to your own rooms, and to your own beds."

"Charlie," Ginny said in a tone Harry had long learnt to fear. "Why are you the only one still angry at Harry?"

"I'm not angry about Christmas anymore, and I'm not really angry," he answered.

"You are to angry," Ginny retorted. "Your ears are red. Maybe you're just jealous, because your girlfriend isn't here."

"Oh, very mature of you, Ginny," Charlie told her. "Very mature."

"Gin," Harry said, stopping her before she could continue the fight. "Just give it up. Help me get inside and to bed." She glared at her brother for a second longer and then helped to get Harry inside.

"Where are your pajamas?" Ginny asked him, once she lowered him onto his bed.

"Somewhere in the trunk," Harry replied. "I didn't pack it." Ginny opened it and started searching. Finding them, she crossed over and laid them on the bed next to where he was sitting.

"Good night, Luv," she said, bending over and kissing him on the lips. Harry wrapped his arms around her, losing himself in the kiss. "Sleep tight and may the nightmares stay away."

"'Night, Gin," he called after her. She stopped at the doorway and turned to look at him. "Thank you."

"No problem," she said with a smile and then shut the door after her.

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"Okay, let me rephrase that then," the fake Ginny said, taking a step closer. "What can I tell you in front of all of these people that you don't mind them knowing?"

"Surprise me," Harry said, turning his attention back to Scarface. "Ava--"

"The worst nightmare you've had this year was the Death Parade," the fake said.

"He knows about that," Harry told her, distractedly. "He probably knows more than Ginny did, seeing that he's been in and out of my head for weeks now."

"Okay, then it'll have to be creative," pseudo-Ginny murmured. "Just don't kill him yet."

"Be quick about it," Harry snapped at her.

"Some things easier to write," the fake told him confidently.

"He knows about that," Harry replied.

"What about our hide out?" she asked.

"Of course."

"You like it when I run my fingers through your hair."

"Any idiot could see that if they saw the two of us together, but He knows that for a fact as well," he finished tiredly, running his fingers through his hair.

"You asked me when you thought Ron would..."

"He's 'read' that letter."

"You gave me a stuffed animal that Hogsmeade trip, and I named him Prongs after your dad."

"He knows. I thought about how stupid I was leaving her alone, with only a stuffed animal to comfort her. I thought about that a lot," Harry said, trailing off, thinking about that once more.

The fake paused in thought. Harry was positive that she was a fake. She was picking all the easy secrets. Turning his attention from her, Harry faced Scarface once again. "I hate you."

"Well, obviously," Scarface retorted. "You are going to kill me."

"Harry, don't!" the fake called. "The Harry I know wouldn't kill."

Harry turned to stare at this... beast pretending to be his Ginny. His Ginny, the only one in the world who was important to him. "The Ginny I know would understand! Avada Kedavra!" he shouted and the green light flew from his wand to connect with her heart. The split second it took for the spell to reach her was enough time for her face to register fear, hurt, anger, and loss. A deep, heartfelt loss.

"You bastard!" Ron screamed at him. "That was Ginny!"

Harry dropped his wand and rushed to her side. "Ginny?" he asked, as if the corpse would answer. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! GIIIIIIIINYYYYYYY!"

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"Harry, wake up!" Ron shouted at him, shaking him awake. "Wake up!"

"I'm awake," Harry replied groggily. "I killed her," he said softly, remembering what he had just done. "I killed her."

"Who? Ginny?" Ron asked and Harry nodded in answer. "No you didn't, mate. You were close, but that was just a nightmare."

"Just a nightmare?" Harry repeated, unsure of that. It had felt so real. "Just a nightmare," he said, more sure of the fact. His shoulders sagged in defeat. "I'm a danger to her, Ron. How can you let me put her in danger?"

"Because if I repeat myself from last winter, she's not going to promise mum anything," he answered with a laugh. "And I know you'll keep her safe. Hermione was right, if we die in this war, let's have happy memories to make it worth it."

"I don't know, Ron, I don't know."

"I do," his friend replied. "When I first saw you, lying in that pool of blood, I was positive that you were dead. And in the few seconds I thought you were dead, I remembered everything we'd been through. Everything. From the train, to the troll, to quidditch, to you trading yourself for me, Ginny, and 'Mione, to Remus and Tonks' wedding, everything. And Harry, I wouldn't trade any of it for the world. Along with all the pain, suffering and hurt, there are multitudes of good times. Those make it all worth it."

"Yeah," Harry replied. An easy silence fell between them as Ron watched him think. He was right, of course. The good times make the bad times worth fighting through. Harry nodded and Ron went to sit on the chair at the desk. The clock chimed the quarter hour and then the half hour, and still Ron sat there, only now he was looking at his hands. Something was on his mind.

"Harry?" he finally asked, as Harry had known he would.

"Yeah?" Harry replied.

"Can I ask you something?"

"More then you just did?" Harry teased him.

"Yeah," Ron answered with a faint smile. Harry nodded for him to continue. "Do you think Hermione would marry me?" Harry felt his jaw drop. Where had that come from? "Oh..." Ron said in defeat. "I thought you'd at least say that she'd say she would need to think about it."

"What?" Harry asked without thinking. "Oh, I follow. No, it's just... I wasn't prepared for that. Let me think a bit." Would Hermione marry him? Of course she would. Would she make Ron earn that right? Of course she would!

"I've been thinking 'bout it for a while now," Ron muttered. "I don't want to lose her and seeing as I'm here and all, I thought I should ask her dad. But... I need to talk to someone. I would have gone to my dad... but..."

"He's dead," Harry finished for him. "I'd have to say, go for it, Ron. She won't say no. She might tell you to ask her later, but she won't say no. Do you have the ring?" Ron shook his head. "Any ideas about how you're going to ask her?" Ron shook his head again. "Well, I think you might want to come up with something to tell her dad." The silence descended on the room again and they sat there. The clock chimed the three-quarter hour and then the new hour. Harry counted the chimes. One. Two. Three. Four. It was four in the morning.

"Charlie said he caught you and Ginny snogging on the back porch," Ron said dryly.

"Do you mind?" Harry asked.

"Not really, just next time, do it somewhere a bit more private," Ron instructed him. "Ginny gave you her heart. I'm not going to make the same mistake I did last winter. I was just wondering..." Ron trailed off, and Harry looked at him expectantly. "Are you thinking about asking her to marry you?"

"To be honest, no," Harry replied. "We're so messed up right now, that I'm just worried about fixing it, you know?" Ron nodded. "I can't believe she's not angrier with me."

"You'll learn quickly that Ginny doesn't stay angry long," Ron informed him. "She's just like mum in that respect. She blows up and that's it. Now if you let her build it up, then you'll be in trouble."

"But she hasn't blown up at me," Harry admitted warily.

"Yeah, she's been taking it out on us, mate," Ron told him with a crooked smile. "Trust me, she isn't letting it build up."

"Oh, okay." Harry smiled back, turning away from the window to face his friend. Ron was sitting at the desk, staring at the clean surface. Harry realized that his best friend had dark circles under his eyes. Had had them for weeks now. "Ron, are you alright?"

"What?" he asked, having been somewhere else completely.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Ron answered distracted by his thoughts.

"You want to talk about it?" Harry asked, knowing that Ron had lied.

"No," Ron answered. "Yes... I don't know." The clock chimed the quarter hour and Ron turned his head to listen better. "Life keeps going on, and for the most part, it does get better, but... other parts don't. And I'm not sure how to deal with that. I never thought about life without my dad. Not even when he almost died two Christmases ago. I didn't think about anything those days. And now he's gone. And... I don't know what to do, you know? Bill took over as dad, Charlie's the oldest brother now, Percy is still the git, the twins are still the jokesters, and I'm... I don't know. I never really had a role. And... I don't know. I'm not sure how to live without him, you know? I don't know how to help Mum, either. She's been so... listless without Dad around. She hasn't made one meal since he died. She's been so... lost. Except when you needed looking after, that seemed to help. But I'm so lost now and I'm not sure what to do..." Ron trailed off looking out the window. Harry watched him carefully, trying to figure what he should do to help Ron.

"Me neither," Harry finally said. "It gets easier, eventually."

"If it gets easier, why did you... you know...?" Ron trailed off, searching for words. Harry did know.

"Because... I..." Harry stopped, just as lost for words as Ron was. "I got overwhelmed. It was too much... too soon, and I just gave up; took the easy way out. But I came back, 'cause I know it gets better. I just have to give it more time then I'd want."

"Are you glad you came back?" Ron asked tentatively. Harry stared past Ron out of the window. The now waning moon shone brightly into the room, its light reflecting off the glass in framed pictures.

"Yes," Harry finally answered. "I am." Ron nodded in acceptance of this simple answer. "Ron," Harry said suddenly, pausing until Ron looked up. "I'm sorry about your dad. It's my fault and I'm sorry."

Ron gaped at him, stunned. "What do you mean it's your fault? Because it isn't, Harry. Honestly. It was Lucius' fault."

"If I hadn't been there..."

"Harry, Vance had the majority of available Ministry workers there," Ron said. "She knew something would happen. It was a Hogsmeade trip, and Voldemort hadn't done anything in awhile. My dad was there 'cause it was his job and four of his kids were in the village. Excuse me, five of them," he said, looking at Harry pointedly, "plus Hermione. Harry, don't you blame yourself for his death. He wouldn't want that."

"Do you know what happened?" Harry asked softly.

"Yeah," Ron said quietly. "Fred broke his leg and Dad turned to see which Weasley had screamed. When he turned back from the sight, Lucius was right there. He never had a chance to get out of the way. Why did it have to be Lucius? The one Death Eater my family hates the most."

"Fate has a sick sense of humor," Harry replied dryly. The clock chimed five (Where had the hour gone?) and there was a knock on the door. "Come in," Harry called out.

Hermione stuck her head in. "There you are Ron," she said, smiling at him. She stepped into the room and Ginny followed, both girls already dressed. "I forgot to tell you, but breakfast is at five. My parents need to leave at five-thirty, so we eat then. You can eat later if you want, but you'll have to make your own food."

"We're coming, 'Mione," Ron told her. "Let us get dressed and then we'll go with you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry sat on the couch watching Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Quirke, Remus, Thia, and Tonks play a card game called Spoons. He had been playing as well, but the laughing, thinking, and wild diving for the spoons had worn him out. Watching the game was just as amusing though, and Harry cheered everyone on.

He leaned forward and watched as Ginny cautiously reached out a hand to take a spoon, while still passing on cards. He smiled as no one noticed for several long seconds after. Thia looked at the spoons (She's counting them, Harry thought to himself with a smile) and then she grabbed one. After that it was a mad pile of reaching hands, trying to snag a spoon. Ron and Hermione were both trying to pry off the other's hand, until Ron realized it was Hermione. Remus laughed as the boy let go of the spoon as if it had burnt him.

"Ron!" Hermione yelled at him, throwing the spoon at him good naturedly. "Don't just let me win like that!" Ron smiled at her and shrugged, hugging her quickly.

"A wise man let's his woman win," Remus managed to say with a straight face.

"Exactly," Tonks said brightly, squeezing the werewolf's hand. Harry leaned back into the cushions of the couch, sighing deeply. He closed his eyes, exhausted. "You okay, kiddo?"

"Just tired," Harry said, not opening his eyes. "I didn't sleep well."

"What's that?" Remus asked, Harry could tell by his voice that the man was worried.

"I didn't sleep well," Harry repeated. "Nightmares and the like, nothing to worry about."

"You sure?" Hermione asked, just as worried.

"I'm sure he's sure," Ron told her softly. Harry nodded once in agreement. Ginny, who was sitting on the floor near him, started to rub his leg comfortingly. Harry's lips curled in a small smile as he felt his body relax even more.

"Ready for another game?" Thia asked the group. There was a chorus of yes's and Thia started the game. Harry didn't bother to open his eyes and just listened to the cards passing from one person to another. There was little talking, each person concentrating too hard even to joke around. After a few minutes, right as Harry was drifting to sleep, there was screaming and laughing and someone's elbow rammed into his left knee. The elbow hit the exact spot to trigger his reflexes and he kicked the person in the head.

"Gees, Harry," Ron yelled at him. "Why'd you kick my head? Just because I beat Ginny doesn't give you the right to kick me!"

"I didn't kick you on purpose," Harry retorted. "You elbowed me in the knee!"

"I did not," Ron said defensively.

"Did too!" Harry replied.

"Actually, I think it was my elbow," Ginny said, from where she was curled up on the floor laughing. This statement set Hermione, Thia, Tonks, and Quirke off in a series of giggles. The three men traded confused looks. "Sorry, luv."

"Don't worry," Harry replied, rubbing the sore spot unconsciously. "Sorry 'bout kicking you, Ron."

"You're not the one that should be sorry," Ron grumbled, as he carefully felt the bump that was developing underneath his hair.

"Sorry, dearest brother," Ginny said in a sickly sweet voice. "I'd heal it, but it wouldn't be worth the owl I'd get for using magic outside of school." Quirke reached over and tapped Ron's head sharply with her wand and the lump disappeared.

"You aren't sorry," Ron told her.

"True, but I was always taught to say I was sorry," she replied cheerfully.

"So you weren't sorry that you hit my knee?" Harry asked slyly.

"No, I was sorry about that," Ginny replied in mock seriousness. "But if I had to hit you at least I did it in such a way that Ron got hit in turn." Harry laughed at that and leaned over to kiss her.

"Hey!" Ron said hastily. "Remember what I said about not snogging in a public place!" He waved his arm around to encompass the room. "This is public!" Harry broke the kiss and smiled at Ron.

"Turn around and give us a bit of privacy then," Harry said with a laugh and proceeded to kiss Ginny again. Ron threw his hands over his eyes and swore loudly. Ginny broke the kiss this time.

"Do I have to tell Mum about your language, Ronald?" she threatened him.

"Leave the poor boy alone," Thia said with a smile. "You two are going to have years to tease him, no point in alienating him before you get that chance."

Harry looked at the older woman surprised. Did everyone expect him and Ginny to get married? Not that that was a bad thing! Far from it! But, he wasn't that sure of their relationship yet. They still hadn't had that talk. He had meant to have it last night, but the snogging got in the way. But, yet again, he wasn't complaining about that either.

Ginny stood and curled up next to him, grabbing her book off the table behind the couch. Somehow she managed to balance it so she could read. He ran his fingers through her hair, the fragrance from her shampoo wafting up to his nose. Five simple words came to Harry's mind, but saying them was another thing.

I love you, Ginny Weasley.

It was such a simple phrase, nothing fancy about it. A subject, a verb, and a direct object, that's all that it consisted of. Maybe it was too simple. Or, maybe he just didn't know how to say them. Had he ever told another human being--out loud--that he loved them? Harry couldn't remember a single time. Not once, in his whole life had he told someone that he loved them. And he really did love a lot of people! Everyone in this room meant something to him. He appreciated Quirke for her patient handling of his rehabilitation and his hot temper. Thia for all the training she had put him through and stories she had told him. Tonks had made him laugh more times then he could count. Remus was great as a father figure. Hermione for being a know-it-all. Ron for getting into scrapes with. Ginny... for just being Ginny.

Yet, he couldn't remember one time he had told these people that he loved them. How sad was that? He should tell them all, right now. He did actually open his mouth, but no sound came out. And he lost his nerve soon after that. Ron, Hermione, Quirke, Thia, Tonks, and Remus were playing Spoons once more and Ginny was reading.

He was such a bloody coward. He could face dark wizards, but he couldn't tell those he cared about that he loved them! Beating up on himself inside, Harry carefully stood up, making sure that Ginny knew before hand. "I'm going to go sit on the porch. Alone," he added when Ginny made to stand up. "I need a little alone time," he told them. "I'll be back."

Once on the porch, Harry took a seat on the steps leading out to the back garden. It was well manicured, just like the front garden. Harry still thought the best garden he had ever seen was the old Burrow garden. No one would be seeing that garden again for a long time. Not until the contamination was gone and plants could start growing there again.

The Weasleys had lost a lot in this war. The family home, that was generations old, was contaminated beyond repair. The twins had spent weeks in St. Mungo's. And Mr. Weasley was dead... forever... and ever... and ever. One day they were sure to realize how dangerous it was having him around and they'd cut off contact with him. Harry both welcomed that day and lived in fear of it. When it came, they would no longer be in danger. But when it did come he'd be alone, again.

Harry stood and walked out into the garden, setting a fast pace in his anger. The paths were stone slabs, moss growing between the cracks. Flowers in full bloom were all around him, their fragrance lifting his spirits a bit. Finally, he had spent his little bit of energy and sat down on the pathway, under a particularly large bush with purple flowers. He had made it farther into the garden then he had expected.

He plucked a flower from a nearby plant and started to pull off the creamy white petals. He watched them fall, one by one, landing on the green softness of the moss and the gray roughness of the stone. A strong gust of wind blew them away to find dark places to whither in.

Why couldn't he tell his friends, really his family, how he felt about them? He heard the Weasleys express their feelings all the time. Mr. and Mrs. Granger had made a point of giving Hermione a hug and a kiss before they left that morning, telling her that they loved her. Harry remembered hearing his own Mum say it to him in that limbo. She made him feel special, cared for, and wanted. Harry longed for that acceptance to be in his life permanently.

"Luv," Ginny's soft voice whispered to him. "If you're done being alone, do you want to talk?"

"Yeah," Harry said, motioning for Ginny to sit across from him. She did, folding her long, slender legs under her. "So... what do you want to talk about?"

"What do you want to talk about?" Ginny asked. "I'm not sure what's going on."

"Me neither," Harry replied. "It's just..."

"If neither of us knows what's the matter, then maybe it's all in our heads," Ginny said after a moment's hesitation.

"But, there is stuff," Harry replied. "I just don't know how to put it into words. It's difficult to say." He looked up and into her dancing brown eyes and smiled. "You're difficult."

"Am not," Ginny replied teasingly. "It's all you. You're the difficult one." Harry's smile wavered as the truth of that sunk in. True, Ginny had only been teasing giving the obvious come back, but it was true nonetheless. This was all his fault! "Harry, what's the matter?"

"I don't know why you put up with me," Harry finally replied, a smile back on his face. "But I'm glad you do."

"What was that frown for?" she asked him, her own smile wavering.

"Many things," Harry replied enigmatically.

"Like?" she pushed him, smiling again. She had found a challenge and she wasn't going to give up until she had won. Maybe that's why she had gotten a crush on him all those years ago. He had been so clueless; it was a challenge just to get noticed. Harry was struck by how absolutely stubborn she was. She was amazing. And beautiful. And three feet from him. "Luv?"

"Oh, like how you're only three feet away and I'm too exhausted to cross it to kiss you," Harry told her, slightly guiltily. This was supposed to be a conversation about their relationship not a snog session.

"I can remedy that," Ginny said with a wicked little smile on her lips. She slowly crept over to him, sliding one hand around his neck, threading her fingers through his hair while the other hand wound around his waist rubbing his lower back. She curled into his lap and Harry couldn't help but kiss her. He was amazed at the joy and pleasure this wonderful woman gave him. He kissed her desperately, not wanting to let her go, ever.

Time lost meaning to the couple; they were so thoroughly preoccupied with each other. Sometime later, too soon in Harry's opinion, a voice floated down from the house.

"Harry, Ginny!" Thia's voice called to them. "Lunch!"

Ginny straightened up, running her finger along his jaw, Harry could see that her wicked little smile had now reached her deep brown eyes. "We're coming!" she called back.

"We can skip it," Harry said huskily, pulling her back into his arms.

"We could," Ginny said with a laugh, patting his chest playfully. "But I'm hungry. And Mum would kill me if she thought I was even thinking about keeping you from a meal. She says you're too scrawny." Ginny stood, straightening her clothes and pulling her hair out of the messed up ponytail. He hadn't managed to get the curly hair out of its rubber band.

"Am I?" Harry asked as Ginny bent over to collect all her hair in one of her hands. He watched, fascinated, as she wound it around and fastened it into a loose bun. She looked him up and down, reaching to pull him up. She helped to support him as they walked back.

"Well," she said critically. "I suppose you have lost a bit of weight. And you've lost some muscles, which I miss. But on the whole, you look rather sexy, Mr. Potter." Harry stopped and almost lost his balance as Ginny kept walking, a firm grip on the hand he had slung over her shoulder. "Come on, Harry, they're waiting for us."

"Did you just call me sexy?" Harry whispered into her ear.

"I did," Ginny replied, her eyes twinkling.

"Well, same goes for you, Gin," Harry whispered back. "And I'm glad you're my girlfriend. Just think, a little more then a year ago, you were dating Dean. I like this much better."

"Me too," Ginny replied quietly. He almost missed it. "Me too."