Harry's Angel

Harry turned the doorknob slowly, his eyelids becoming heavy. He had to lean against the door frame for support as he eased the door to his flat open. Closing the door behind him, he slipped off his shoes and collapsed on the nearby couch. Using the last bit of his energy, he rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

Today had not been his day.

Quidditch practice was more grueling than usual. His coach, Jack Davis, didn't believe in holidays, vacations or even a day off, even after their huge victory over Ireland. His whole body ached from the Wronski Feint move he had pulled towards the end of practice. Halfway through the dive, a crack of thunder echoed through the stadium and distracted him. He slammed into the ground, and Davis told him to go home after a quick visit to the on-site Healer. All he wanted to do was come home; grab a bottle of Ogden's, and pass out on the couch. Unfortunately, Fate had not been so kind. Feeling he'd splinch himself if he Apparated in his current exhausted state, he opted to walk home. He was mobbed instantly by a crowd of photographers and journalists, barking questions at him about the next big match. They followed him doggedly until he ducked into Ron and Hermione's flat building, two blocks from the pitch.

Hermione was thrilled to see him, despite the flood of tears that poured down her face. At eight months pregnant, she was crying over every little thing, so when Harry knocked on the door, she broke into tears. As Ron held his crying wife, he told Harry that the doctor thought the moodiness was because she was carrying twins and mentioned Harry should be happy he wasn't living there. Harry offered the two a smile, but secretly agreed.

Harry left, his mood slightly improved. That didn't last long however, because the minute he got a block away from their flat building, the weather turned cloudy and within minutes, rain began to pour.

He rubbed his temples before running his hands though his soaked hair. He closed his eyes as the door to his flat opened again. He didn't need to look to know who was coming through the door; only one other person had a key. He heard soft footsteps on the carpet, and before he knew it, he felt someone gently pull his head up. The settee cushion sank down as she settled onto it, and his head fell back into her lap.

He opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was a pair of warm, brown eyes staring back at him. "Hello there."

Ginny flicked her long, silky red hair over one shoulder before leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. Her hair formed a curtain around his head, and he inhaled the sweet fragrance of her shampoo.

"Mmm..."

Her fingernails scratched gently at the hair on the back of his neck and his eyes fell shut again. He could imagine the smile playing across her lips. "Hello to you, too," she replied.

Her fingers continued playing with his hair, her nails occasionally scratching his scalp. He loved the feel of her hands in his hair, and she knew all his sensitive spots. "Mmmhm..."

"How was your day?" she asked softly, rubbing just behind his ears. His eyes weren't open, but she knew they had to be rolling back in his head.

"Horrible," he mumbled, his whole body going slack as her fingers continued their heavenly assault on his ears. "Practice was grueling and everyone is going to hear how I'm dating the Chudley Cannon's new Seeker."

"Really?" He could hear the amusement in her voice. "The one with the buck teeth and heavy accent?"

"Yep." She laughed, and despite the pounding in his head, he didn't mind. Her laughter was low and sweet, and just hearing it made his smile grow. Her left fingers hit a particularly sensitive spot directly behind his earlobe and he let out a sigh. "I love it when you do this."

She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "I'm just trying to make it better."

A few nights after he had defeated Voldemort, she discovered the 'sweet spot' behind his ears. Every time he became upset, she would calm him down and rub that spot behind his ear. Usually, she could have him asleep in minutes.

That was exactly what happened.

---

Ginny watched as he drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face. Tears pricked at her eyes. After everything that had been forced upon him, she was glad he was able to enjoy a few minutes of dreamless sleep, even though she knew the nightmares would come later. She hoped that one day he would be able to go a whole night without being terrorized by his dreams.

She leaned over, careful not to wake him, and grabbed her wand from her purse. She muttered a spell to levitate him to his bed, and as he floated down the hallway, she brushed the hair from his forehead. She made sure he made it to his bed, and after pulling down the sheets, she debated whether to take off his jeans. They weren't the most comfortable things to sleep in, so despite the furious blush in her cheeks, she undid his belt and slipped them off.

When they were safely folded and placed in the chair next to his dresser, she pulled the sheets over him. Finally, she pulled off his glasses and set them gently on the nightstand. His brows furrowed in his sleep, and he let out a small whimper. She knew the beginnings of a nightmare were forming in his mind, and she reached out and touched his face. "Oh, Harry," she whispered, cupping his cheek and stroking the rough stubble on his chin. "I wish I knew what you were thinking."

She reached up to turn off the light, but before her hand touched the switch, he cried out.

She jumped, and after the initial shock wore off, she took him by the shoulders. "Shhh..." She shook him gently. "It's just a dream."

His eyes fluttered open. "Ginny?" he mumbled.

"Yes, it's me," she whispered, cradling his head in her hands. "What's wrong?"

"Don't leave."

The tears prickling behind her eyes found their way to the corners. "I won't; I promise." She stroked his earlobes, hoping he would fall back asleep. He did, and she slipped her jeans and sweater off, leaving her in her underwear and a tank top. Rummaging through his drawers, she pulled out a pair of boxers and quickly slipped them on. She climbed into his bed next to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I'm not going anywhere," she whispered, tracing circles on his shoulders. His head found the crook of her neck and she rubbed her cheek against his hair.

"I love you, Harry."