The damaged halls lit up in the red and gold hues of morning as Harry Potter slowly ambled about them. He was still covered in dried blood and grime, yet he wore a pleasantly content expression upon his face. He gazed around at the rubble that had once been his home, yet he didn’t feel as much remorse as he had originally anticipated. Harry knew that they could rebuild Hogwarts; little by little, it would be restored to its original grandeur, and hundreds of witches and wizards would enter its halls, just as he had nearly seven years ago.

Harry’s smile dimmed, however, when he thought of all of those who could never come back – Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Moody… so many had been lost in a battle that had never been theirs to begin with. He was the only one that should have been involved; he should have done more to save them! ‘Quit thinking like that, Harry,’ he silently reprimanded himself. He knew that he couldn’t have won the war without the help of the Wizarding world, yet he couldn’t help but feel responsible for the tragic losses it had sustained.

Harry glanced up and found himself, once again, at the entrance of the Great Hall. The doors were opened a crack, and Harry poked his head into the room, glancing around. There were less people than before, and Harry assumed that many had departed to celebrate elsewhere, or to mourn for their loved ones in solitude. After the euphoria immediately following his victory, he really didn’t feel like making another appearance quite so soon. He was about to duck under the Invisibility Cloak once more when he spotted Mrs. Weasley hurrying out of the hall, gesturing for him to wait for her. Harry’s heart sank, his getaway ruined, but he knew that he couldn’t refuse her.

Mrs. Weasley darted out of the hall, and she pulled the heavy wooden doors shut as quietly as she could before turning to Harry. Pride shone in her eyes, and a smile played on her lips as she cupped Harry’s face in her hands.

“Oh, Harry.�

Tears were now sparkling in her eyes, and Harry’s heart filled with emotion. He could sense the gratitude radiating from her, and he was more thankful for it than she could possibly know. Mrs. Weasley pulled him into a tight hug, like she would do to one of her own sons. As she held him, Harry painfully remembered seeing his own mother the night before, in the forest; this thought alone brought tears to his eyes, and he blinked them back just as Mrs. Weasley let him go. She was still glowing with pride, and Harry rubbed the back of his neck subconsciously in the awkward silence. He then finally asked the question which he had been longing to ask.

“Er – Mrs. Weasley? Do you know where Ginny is?�

Mrs. Weasley’s smile faded slightly.

“Oh, dear… she went outside a while ago.� Mrs. Weasley paused, as if she didn’t quite know what to tell him.

“She’s hurting, Harry.�

Harry’s heart pained at this. He didn’t want Ginny to be hurting; he wanted to protect her, to take away her pain. Mrs. Weasley patted his arm and then returned to the Great Hall, and Harry turned and made his way out the front doors into the bright sunlight. As his eyes adjusted to the daylight, he shuddered when he realized that this was almost the exact place where he had lain “dead� only hours before.

Harry cupped his hand over his eyes and scanned the horizon as he walked throughout the grounds. He finally spotted a small, hunched-over figure sitting beside the lake. Sunshine bounced off of Ginny’s fiery hair, making it shimmer; simply the sight of her brought a smile to Harry’s face. Oh, how he had missed her…

Harry approached the spot where she was, her arms wrapped around her knees and her chin resting upon them. Her robes were torn, her eyes red and puffy, and her face blotchy and streaked with tears; yet Ginny had never looked more beautiful to Harry. When he came upon her, she made no indication that she had noticed his arrival. She simply stared into the distance with a vacant, lost expression in her eyes. Harry gingerly sat down next to her on the shore, and hesitantly put his arm around Ginny’s petite shoulders.

Ginny tensed for a moment, but soon relaxed under his touch. Harry watched her slowly tilt her face towards him, and for a moment they simply stared at each other. Then Ginny’s brown eyes filled with tears, and the expression upon her face clearly spoke the anguish that no words could explain. Her lips quivered as they parted, and her whole body seemed to shake.

“Harry… Fred…�

At that point words escaped her, and Harry enveloped her in his arms. And so they sat on the edge of the lake, Harry whispering words of comfort into Ginny’s ear and rocking her while her small body shook with sobs. The minutes seemed like hours, and nothing else in the world mattered to Harry more than giving Ginny all of the love that she needed. Both were oblivious to all sights and sounds, except those of each other.

After some time, Ginny pulled out of Harry’s embrace and wiped her eyes with her tattered sleeve. She glanced over at Harry, who continued to watch her intently.

“Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have broken down like that, it was totally -" She was cut short when Harry held up a finger to her lips.

“Ginny, honestly – how heartless do you think I am?�

Ginny managed a small half-smile before reaching for Harry’s hand; she entwined her fingers in his, and Harry reveled in this small act of intimacy. Ginny shut her eyes wearily and sighed, resting her head on Harry’s shoulder and allowing him to stroke her hair. After a few moments, she spoke again, still leaning against him.

“It’s been hard,� she told him. “Having you gone all year, I mean.� Her voice cracked momentarily, but she steadied it and went on. “Everyone thought you were dead. Hogwarts was so horrible with Snape and the Carrows, and every time I just needed someone to talk to, I would think of you. I wondered where you were, what you were doing; sometimes I even tried to talk to you with my mind, in some desperate attempt to make contact with you in any way possible.�

Ginny giggled to herself as she twirled a piece of bright green grass between her left thumb and index finger. “Kind of silly, huh?� She looked out into the distance, and gave a little smile once more. “I never stopped thinking about you, though. That was the only thing that kept me sane.�

She gave Harry a fleeting look, and was surprised to see him grinning at her in such a way that she almost laughed.

“What?� she asked confusedly.

“Nothing,� Harry chuckled. “It’s just that… well, I didn’t stop thinking about you, either.�

Ginny drew a breath and her eyes fluttered shut. Harry couldn’t pull his gaze away from her. He took advantage of the time her eyes were closed to take in every inch of her. Her soft, pink lips; the sheer dusting of freckles covering her creamy white skin; her slender frame, which seemed so fragile on the outside yet was so strong on the inside… Harry could have stared at her for ages, but Ginny’s voice suddenly cut through his thoughts.

“Harry?� she asked tentatively. Harry smiled once more as his gaze returned to Ginny’s face. Her head was cocked to the side, and she wore a bemused expression upon her face. Rays of sunlight were reflecting off of the lake water and making it sparkle, and a slight breeze ruffled the couple’s hair. In that moment, all the hardships of the past year seemed to float away, and Harry cared about nothing but Ginny and his feelings for her.

“I love you, Ginny,� he spoke softly, his eyes directing themselves to his knees. Ginny’s head snapped up quickly, and she turned to gape at the figure next to her.

“W-What?� she whispered.

Harry took a trembling breath, but then continued without even planning what he was going to say before he said it.

“I think I’ve loved you since the first time I kissed you. You make me laugh when I’m upset, and you have a heart bigger than the world itself. When I’m with you I can’t take my eyes off of you, and when we’re apart I can’t take my mind off of you. You consume my thoughts day and night, and I think it would kill me to stop thinking about you.�

Ginny’s eyes remained closed, her head resting in her hands. Her breaths were becoming short and quick, and Harry was concerned that he was sending her over the edge. He decided, though, to quickly say what he knew he had to and hope for the best. There was no backing out now.

“You know,� Harry laughed, “last summer, when you kissed me, I thought Ron was going to kill me? And I told him that you weren’t stupid, that you hadn’t expected us to ever get married or anything. But even as I said that, every single part of me hoped with all of its might that maybe you did think that. That has to mean something, right?�

Harry gave Ginny another momentary look and was alarmed to find tears brimming in her eyes once more. ‘Oh, damn, Harry! Look what you’ve done!’ He frantically looked around for something to wipe her tears with, but he was unsuccessful.

“No, Ginny, please don’t cry -� Harry started but was interrupted when Ginny held a finger to his lips.

“Oh Harry, you idiot.�

Ginny laughed when she saw Harry’s bewildered expression. She brought herself closer to him, so she was almost sitting in his lap. Tears were glistening in her eyes, and Harry was about to lose his mind.

“I love you too,� she whispered breathlessly, and then lightly kissed him, her lips just barely brushing his. They stayed in that position for a few moments, their hands clasped together and their foreheads touching.

Then, Harry gave a beam of delight and jumped to his feet. He pulled a giggling Ginny to her feet as well and proceeded to twirl her in the air, his hands on her waist and her arms around his neck. When he brought her down, her arms remained around his neck, and Harry happily bestowed upon Ginny a much longer and more ardent kiss than the one they had shared moments before.

---

“Ronald, stop fidgeting or these cuts are never going to get healed!� Hermione scolded Ron as she slowly waved her wand across his bare skin, mending the wounds and abrasions which covered a good deal of his body. As she worked, Ron stared up at her, attempting to heed her advice even though all he really wanted to do was put his arms around her and never let go.

Her brown hair was slightly damp and caught up in a messy bun of waves and curls, and she was wearing a pair of shorts and a too-big t-shirt. Nicks and scratches covered her skin, and an especially deep cut that she had attempted to heal herself had left a purplish scar above her left eye. But still, Ron thought that Hermione looked more stunning than he had ever seen her look before. More stunning, even, than she had been at the Yule Ball in Fourth Year with her Sleekeazy bun and her periwinkle robes.

When she finished her work, he was still studying her intently. He didn’t stop as he pulled his shirt back on or as Hermione folded her legs beneath herself in order to sit cross-legged on the bed.

The Seventh Year boy’s dormitory was vacant except for the two of them; only two of the beds had been slept in all year, and the room had a faint musty smell. Ron and Hermione had come up to Gryffindor Tower after the crowd had somewhat dispersed in the Great Hall; many families had departed for their own homes, either to celebrate the end of the war or to lament for their losses. They had each showered, and then Hermione had proceeded to persuade Ron to let her heal his battle wounds.

Now they were sitting upon Ron’s old bed, the one that had belonged to him since First Year. Hermione leaned against one of the bedposts and shut her eyes. She felt like she had been awake for years, and it seemed as if every single one of her muscles ached with each little move she made. She let out a soft sigh, and her eyes fluttered open when she sensed Ron moving towards her. He raised a surprisingly steady hand, and Hermione’s eyes followed its movement as Ron gently tucked a stray brunette curl behind her ear. His hand fell a little, and came to rest along her cheek.

Hermione drew a breath and squeezed her eyes closed once more; a few tears trickled out and streaked down her pale cheeks, dripping into her lap. Ron started at this sight, and cupped Hermione’s chin in his hand.

“Hermione? What’s wrong?�

Hermione looked at him, her eyes full of distress and regret.

“I’m so sorry, Ron. I – I’m sorry for everything. Everything we’ve been through, all that’s happened to us – it’s all been my fault. I was blinded by pain, and then by confusion, and then by jealousy. I’ve treated you horribly, and if there was anything I could possibly say or do to make up for it I would. I just…�

Hermione trailed off and covered her face with her hands. Confused, Ron put his arms around her trembling shoulders, and brought her head to his chest where she continued to cry for a few moments. As her weeping subsided, Ron spoke:

“Oh, Hermione. Can’t you see that I’m the one that’s messed everything up? I never gave you a break, never treated you like you truly deserved. I tried to tell myself for so long that I couldn’t possibly feel the way I did about you, but now I know that I can’t deny it. I love you, Hermione. I’ve loved you for a long time, but I’ve never been willing to admit it to myself. I was the stubborn git, not you.�

Hermione pulled away from Ron, and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. How could somebody so perfect and faultless possibly love someone as flawed, obstinate, and unattractive as her? Ron seemed to sense her incredulity and lightly grasped her shoulders, repeating his words once more.

“I love you, Hermione Granger.�

The more and more she gazed into Ron’s deep blue eyes, the more and more Hermione began to consider that he really did love her. Ron, the boy that had always seemed so eternally unattainable, the boy that had mocked her and treated her like something dispensable, actually loved her! A smile blossomed on her face, and Ron grinned when he saw her countenance begin to light up.

As Hermione’s cheeks grew rosier, Ron’s palms grew sweatier and sweatier. Inside of him, an intense battle was being waged.

’Go on, kiss her! You’ve just told her that you love her – she’s probably expecting a kiss.’

’But that might scare her off. You kissed earlier, but that was in the heat of the moment. She’s too fragile right now.’

Ron hadn’t stopped thinking about their heated kiss the night before ever since it happened. For so long, he had been sure that Hermione had given up on him. If he had thought that she had any feelings for him whatsoever, he had pretty much lost hope after she had attacked him upon his return to their campsite.

But then, last night, he had mentioned getting the house elves to safety. It had triggered something in Hermione that he had never seen before. She had jumped on him and kissed him, a passionate kind of kiss that he had never experienced with Lavender. Ron assumed that this indicated something; some hint of her true feelings for him. He had figured things would go smoothly from there on out.

So why was he having so much trouble kissing her now?

After a few moments, when Ron had finally settled on a course of action, the sun was beginning to set, and red-orange streams of light were flowing in through the dusty window. Light bounced off of Hermione’s hair and made it gleam like crystals, and Ron was astonished at how simply radiant she looked. He began to lean in towards her, and slowly closed his eyes, breathing heavily. He drew closer to her, his heart beating much faster than usual; almost there, and then…

“Ron?�

Ron’s eyes flew open, and he saw that he was inches from Hermione’s face. He could see the traces of tears still caught in her eyelashes, and her cheeks were glowing pink. Ron thought he might go insane if he didn’t kiss her soon.

“Hmm?�

Hermione drew a deep breath, as if preparing herself for the most difficult thing she had ever had to say to anyone.

“I love you, too.�

Ron’s heart leapt within his chest, which must have shown itself in some way upon his face, because Hermione gave a little giggle. She then reached up and held Ron’s freckled face in her hands, beamed, and brought her lips slowly to his.

---

The stars twinkled in the cloudless sky above Hogwarts as two young couples sat side-by-side on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The girls’ hair fluttered in the summer breeze as the boys simply relaxed in the presence of their loved ones. An owl hooted as it flew past overhead, and its shadow crossed over the couples as it glided across their view of the moon.

Ginny emitted a barely audible sigh, her heart filled with content. It felt so good to finally have Harry sitting beside her, after nearly a year of his absence. Simply the sight of him warmed her soul and brought a grin to her face. Ginny shivered a little as a gust of wind washed over her, and Harry instinctively wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into him, and then glanced up into his soft green eyes. Ginny could tell that Harry had been thinking exactly the same things that she had, and she gave him a small smile. Harry leaned down, tenderly kissed the top of her auburn head, and then rested his chin lightly upon it. Ginny’s eyes slowly slid shut, and she let the peace of the evening surround her.

Ron sat with his legs spread before him, and Hermione perched in his lap. He watched as she titled her head towards the sky and fixed her eyes on the rising moon. Its milky light was reflected in her dark brown eyes, and Hermione continued to keep her gaze on it when a firefly lit up right beside her face. Its tiny glow brought Hermione obvious joy, and a warm, tingly feeling filled Ron’s insides as she laughed. She looked like a child marveling at the world for the first time, with wonder in her eyes and elation in her smile. Ron bent forward and gently pressed his lips to her temple. Hermione clasped his hand in her own and together they continued to watch the moon rise over the grounds.

Emotion was overwhelmingly present in the air, and both couples merely sat in its presence, soaking it up. Not one word was spoken, yet all of the feelings that the young pairs felt were communicated through sweet acts of intimacy and fleeting gazes of affection.

As they sat near the forest, another couple stood alongside each other at the foot of the stone stairs leading to the Entrance Hall. Mr. Weasley held his wife close to him, and she leaned into him tiredly. After a few moments, Mrs. Weasley raised her arm and pointed towards where two of her children sat, accompanied by their two best friends; no – also her children. For that’s how she thought of them – her children.

“After all this time… they finally look happy, don’t you think, Arthur?�

Mr. Weasley sighed.

“Yes, Molly. Yes, they do. And they deserve it, too.� Mrs. Weasley smiled at his words. She had watched that foursome grow from shy, awkward children into confused, hormonal teenagers (a stage which she had feared would never end). Now here they sat before her: bold, courageous adults who had learned to care for and depend on one another. ’You’ve done well, Molly,’ she thought to herself. As she admired her handiwork, Mr. Weasley leaned down and whispered in her ear.

“Well done, dear.�

Mrs. Weasley let out a small laugh. She was amazed at how much she and her husband still thought alike after so many years. She swung their hands like a young, smitten girl might do, and led him back into the castle, away from their children.

Crickets chirped and the waves of the lake broke gently against the shore. As the night stretched on, the two couples remained on the edge of the forest. And when dawn finally arrived, it found two young women asleep, curled comfortably in the arms of two young men. After years of searching, it was this place that they had finally discovered – the place where they belonged.