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Harry shut his eyes, hoping to block out the revolving door of dark thoughts and memories invading his mind. Screams of pain. The sound of shattering glass. Fire crackling.
A shiver ran through Harry as he squeezed his eyes tighter, wishing he could disappear the bright lights flashing behind his eyelids. Red, white, yellow. The bright green of Voldemort’s curse, aimed straight at his chest. A wicked green beam heading straight towards…
His eyes shot open as his body tried to curl into itself. It was over. The battle had been won. The remaining death eaters were being hunted down. Voldemort was dead. Bellatrix was dead. Yet even after three nights being back at the Burrow, Harry couldn’t stop thinking about it all.
The nightmares would wake him up in a cold sweat, making him jump out of the old camp bed. Returning to sleep was impossible so he’d leave Ron’s room (leaving Hermione and Ron curled up on Ron’s small mattress). This had happened every night. Every night he’d head down to pace around the Burrow’s garden until exhaustion made him head into the sitting room where he could collapse onto the beaten sofa until Arthur came down to head to work.
It was easy to pretend as he’d just gotten up early and had just been waiting for others to wake up. Everyone else was so distracted by their own thoughts that they never questioned him. That’s where he was tonight. Waiting for someone to wake up. It was three in the morning and he figured Arthur would be up in a few hours. Not so bad… or at least it wouldn’t be if his nightmare didn’t keep coming back to the front of his mind.
In his nightmares, Bellatrix grinning wickedly as she sent killing curse after killing curse toward Ginny. Harry would try to push his way to them, trying to get to her. But every time he tried to move, it was like his legs were being held down by fifty-kilo weights. Then Bellatrix would give a high laugh, right as one curse would hit Ginny in the chest, directly over her heart. Harry was forced to watch Ginny’s eyes widen and her body fall to the floor, limp as a rag doll.
Today, that’s when he woke up. That was three hours ago and yet the image kept crossing his vision. No matter how he tried to distract himself, the image of Ginny’s lifeless body came back. So he’d settled on the sofa. The other nights, he’d been able to find distractions to the nightmares, but this one… this one had completely taken root in his mind.
Harry looked around the sitting room, using the moonlight streaming through the window. The familiarity of it all helped ground him. The family photos hanging on the wall, the seemingly random layout of different furniture, and various knickknacks cluttering shelves brought him some comfort.
The Burrow had always brought him comfort. It was his solace from the Dursleys during the summer. It’s where he’d spent time flinging gnomes with Ron, had late-night dinners in the garden, had deep conversations with Arthur, played quidditch for hours, and it’s where he’d had his final kiss with Ginny.
Ginny.
Harry closed his eyes again, letting his head fall into his hands. Everything seemed to keep coming back to Ginny. Every morning his eyes were drawn to her at the breakfast table. Then he’d see her flying around the yard during the day, her hair wild as she gained speed. In those moments Harry could forget everything. Forget about all the fallen and terror. All his thoughts would be on her.
And fuck, wasn't it pathetic? Pathetic that he was so hopelessly pining for his ex-girlfriend that the only time he felt normal was when he was watching her. Which saying it like that made it even worse… and creepy.
He groaned, falling back against the sofa. He didn’t wanna be Ginny’s creepy ex. Fuck, he didn’t wanna be her ex at all. He just… he just wanted… Fuck! He wanted her , but every time that thought crossed his mind guilt would wash over him. There he was thinking about what it would be like to hold Ginny again, all the while there were over fifty people dead. Including Ginny’s brother.
Not only was he creepy, but he was also a complete arse.
“Harry?” The voice made his entire body tense despite being hardly over a whisper. Then the scent came to his attention. Flowers, sweet flowers.
“Gin?” He slowly opened his eyes to see her standing in front of him. Her head was cocked to the left as she studied him.
“Are you… Is everything…” Ginny let out a deep sigh. “There is no way to ask if you’re okay without sounding like a complete prat.” She shook her head. “Of course you’re not okay, none of us are. But I noticed you were holding your head… right over your scar. Was it… was it hurting? Was it something to do with… Tom?”
“I - um -” Harry swallowed a large lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. “No.”
“No?” Ginny’s shoulders sagged in relief before tensing again. “Then what’s wrong?” She moved closer, her hand coming up to feel his forehead. “You don’t feel hot.”
“It’s just — it’s just a headache.”
Her softening expression made Harry’s heart thud hard against his chest. The way she was looking at him. Those deep brown eyes he adored were looking into his with such… care. God, she was gorgeous.
“Have you taken anything for it?” Ginny asked, her hand slowly moving from his forehead to his hair.
Harry’s eyes shut on their own accord as her fingers threaded through his hair to gently massage his scalp.“I — no, I don’t like those potions.”
Ginny let out a quiet, adorable chuckle. “I can’t say I’m surprised.” Her fingers started digging in, nearly making him groan in satisfaction. Her hands felt amazing in his hair, they always had.
The first time she’d done this was when they were dating at Hogwarts. They’d been lying in the grass, both pretending to study. Harry could barely remember the off-hand comment he’d made about the Transfiguration assignment giving him a migraine, but he could vividly remember the way Ginny took it as an invitation. She had sat up, twisting so her back was against a tree, then, without warning, had pulled Harry’s head into her lap. He had started to protest, but the words had died in his throat when her fingers had started massaging his scalp.
It had been incredible to feel her nails dig gently through his hair, and have her strong thighs support him. His homework had gone forgotten as he’d lost himself in her comfort. Ten minutes later and both their books had laid forgotten as they focused solely on each other. The way she’d looked under him as his fingers had wandered under her shirt… the memory had gotten him through many difficult nights in that damned tent (not that he’d ever tell anyone that).
“Is it helping?” Ginny asked softly. Harry’s eyes shot open. Her body was close enough for him to touch, but still so far away. He wanted her closer. Fuck, he needed her closer, but Harry couldn’t think straight.
“I — um —”
Ginny smiled at him, her eyes pulling at him like a magnet. The way she looked at him… it could heat him from a deep freeze. “Here, sit back.”
Gently, she pulled her hands out of his hair. Harry almost whined in disappointment until her fingers started sliding down to his shoulders. With a light touch, she guided him so he sat with his back against the sofa. Harry hadn’t even realized how far forward he’d been sitting until then.
“Alright, just tell me if you’re uncomfortable,” Ginny said, her words coming out a little breathy.
A cheeky response rose to the tip of his tongue, then died, just like it had that day in the grass, as Ginny did something that sent his brain to mush. She straddled him, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders for a second to balance before digging into tight muscles.
“Are you comfortable?” The slight tremor in Ginny’s voice made Harry look up into her face. Her lips were curled in an apprehensive grin. She was nervous. About what, he wasn’t quite sure, but if he had to guess, she was worried about his reaction to her bold move.
Harry slowly lifted his hands from the sofa cushions to rest on her lips. “I haven’t ever been this comfortable in my life.”
That shy smile instantly shifted into the confident one he adored. It was the one she had when flying circles around a keeper or when she’d pulled him behind a tapestry. “Good.”
Her hands continued their ministrations digging into knots Harry hadn’t even realized were there. When she found a particularly tight spot, Harry couldn’t hold back his appreciative groan. Ginny chuckled, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“I promise I’ll try for words later,” Harry said, his eyes fluttering as she worked. “But right now this is the best I can do.”
“I’ll take it,” Ginny said, her smile wide. Harry made eye contact with her, feeling that magnetic pull again. He heard her swallow hard before deep a deep breath. “Harry, I — I.” She paused both her words and ministrations.
Harry didn’t plan it or even realize his hands were moving until they were cupping her jaw. The action seemed to startle her and pull her back attention back to him. He waited until her eyes locked back on his. “What is it?”
Her bottom lip went between her teeth for a moment as she collected herself. Harry found the whole thing way too attractive for his own good. Finally, she let out a deep breath and said, “I just — I was so worried about you.” Her hand lifted to his cheek. “I’ve missed you.”
It was like something sparked in him, sending him into action. He leaned forward, capturing her lips in a soft kiss. That heat he’d felt from her touch doubled when he kissed her. Then tripled when she returned his kiss. His hand still on her waist tightened, pulling her closer to him. She didn’t resist, rather levering herself so their face aligned better.
Harry lost track of everything but her as the kiss intensified. His body was rapidly heating and craving more. He was about to turn so he could lay her under him when she pulled back. Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths. His eyes instantly noticed the swelling of her lips and felt a dumb sense of pride.
She licked her lips that were slowly curling into a grin “Well, that was one way to reacquainted after a long ten months.”
Harry snorted. “You won’t hear me complaining.”
Ginny shook her head. “Me either.” They stared at each other, for a long moment before she broke the silence. “We’ve still got a lot to talk about.”
He nodded slowly. “I know.”
“But…” She drew the word out. “Let’s deal with that in the morning.” Then she was off his lap, standing in front of him and offering a hand to help him up. “I’m pretty sure the camp bed in my room is empty, and I wouldn’t object to some company tonight if you’re interested.”
Harry’s hand was in hers in a heartbeat. “I definitely am.”
Ginny’s smile was as bright as the north star. “Good, but just so we’re clear it's just to sleep.”
His own face broke into a matching grin. He lifted one hand, palm out. “Nothing else crossed my mind.”
She shook her head, her laughter loud in the silent night. Her shoulder bumped his. “Liar.”
Taking the opportunity, Harry used their joined hands to pull him into her. He leaned down to press a light kiss to her lips. “Trust me, I was thinking how this might be the best night's sleep of my life.”
Ginny’s body softened into his as she rose up to find his lips again. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing.”