Chapter 6: The Boy Who Lives

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Harry felt the pressure against his hand, but he couldn't seem to focus on it for very long. Images swirled behind his closed eyes and he could hear familiar voices whispering nearby. He tried to open his eyes and immediately squeezed them shut again, as the bright light left its own image in his vision for a few seconds.

Where am I?

He tried to sit up but his body wouldn't respond to his request. He could feel his muscles straining but something was holding him down. He let out a grunt as he tried again to open his eyes and sit up. Harry heard a gasp from beside his head.

"Harry... Harry, it's okay. You're safe now. I'm here."

The voice was sweet and scared, and Harry felt joy spread within him.

Ginny.

"Harry, can you hear me?" asked Ginny softly, and Harry felt her lips brush against his ear as she spoke to him.

Harry tried to speak but only a croaking sound emitted from his throat. Now he could feel his throat burning and he felt a thirst he thought he may never be able to slake.

"Sip slowly."

Harry felt a straw being placed into the side of his mouth, and he struggled to draw liquid through the tube. Eventually water ran into his mouth and it felt cool and wonderful. He drank a little more and felt the water run over his burning throat. He coughed as he tried to drink too quickly and felt the water land on his skin, leaving a mild tingling sensation.

Harry tried to open his eyes again. The light was too bright and he squinted at the shapes that seemed to stand over him. He felt a cloth dab at the water he had coughed onto his chest. The hand was gentle and his body relaxed, giving up the struggle to sit up.

Harry forced his eyes open and blinked rapidly for a moment. The world slowly swam into focus and he could see Mrs Weasley, Ron, and Hermione looking down at him. All three of them were crying as they smiled at him. A fourth person stood over Harry but he didn't recognise this man.

A face came across his vision and Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. His angel was floating above him and he felt the sting of tears in his eyes.

"Ginny... my Ginny," rasped Harry.

Ginny looked down at Harry and smiled as a sob escaped her.

"Oh Harry, my sweet Harry."

Ginny caressed Harry's face and kissed his cracked lips gently. She lay her head on Harry's shoulder and nuzzled his neck before she whispered to him.

"I love you."

Harry felt warmth spread through his body as he closed his eyes and drifted back off to sleep.

                                                               *

 

The Healers name was Lewis. He was a forty year old wizard with many years experience treating bizarre magical injuries at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Due to his experience he had been assigned to treat Harry Potter. He had also been warned that while the press had already learned of Harry Potter's presence within the hospital, if they learned of the reason for Harry's stay, he may find himself seeking new employment.

Lewis had been briefed on the nature of Harry's injury and he had to admit, he was fascinated. He would be the first Healer to treat an injury resulting from a Killing Curse; something he had proudly told his wife last night after returning home from work.

Yesterday had been busier than usual as the hospital was still treating many of the injured from the Battle of Hogwarts, as the press had rather unimaginatively, but accurately, named the battle. Without any prior warning, four Aurors from the Ministry had appeared in the lobby, momentarily followed by the Minister for Magic himself.

Lewis had happened to be behind the main reception desk filling out paperwork when the Minister had asked for his best Healer and a private room to be ready within two minutes. The looks on the faces of the Aurors and the Minister had left him in little doubt that they were serious. He had informed the Minister he was the senior Healer on duty and that he would escort them to a private ward.

The Minister had told him to wait until the patient arrived. As predicted by the Minister, the patient arrived within two minutes. He was being carried on a stretcher by a group of men, all bearing an uncanny resemblance to each other as well as bright red hair. The men walked directly to the Minister and the Minister indicated for him to lead the way as people arrived behind the patient, again most of them sporting red hair.

As the group arrived in the private ward the patient was lifted and placed onto the hospital bed with remarkable gentleness by the two roughest looking of the red haired man. One had deep scars on his face, while the other had several nasty burn marks on his arms.

Lewis had started to examine the patient when a young girl with red hair had stepped to the other side of the bed and taken his patients hand, saying the name Harry over and over again. Lewis had begun to ask the girl to let go of his patient but the Minister had told him she stays. His tone brooked no argument, so with a shrug of his shoulders he continued his examination.

The most obvious problem was the wound to the chest. It appeared to have been bleeding heavily for quite some time. Lewis had asked what happened to the young man and looked up to see all eyes directed at the Minister. The Minister calmly informed him the young man had been hit by the Killing Curse.

Lewis was shocked. He looked closely at his patient and now he noticed the tell tale scar on his forehead. Harry Potter. Lewis had objected and asked what had hit him in the chest, not what had hit him in the head years ago. Again the Minister had calmly told him Harry Potter had been hit by the Killing Curse.

Lewis had shaken his head and gotten to work. They had started by cleaning the chest wound. A chorus of 'no's' from the assembled group had stopped him from applying Dittany to the wound. Apparently it had already been tried with disastrous results. So Lewis had treated the head and hand wounds with Dittany, and forced a potion down Harry's throat that would start regenerating his blood loss.

Since then Lewis had been trying one remedy after another to treat the chest wound, but he had been unsuccessful so far. It was all pure guess work as there was no reference material for him to use regarding treatment of the Killing Curse.

Now, finally, Harry had briefly woken up before dropping back off to sleep. It had been a good sign, but it was the lone good sign among a mountain of bad ones.

                                                               *

 

Harry woke again to find the room was lit by lamps, the daylight replaced by night. His heart was pounding and he could feel the sweat on his brow. He tried to sit up but found he was still being restrained in the bed. He could sense people moving rapidly around him but his vision seemed to be obscured by a grey haze.

"Ginny... Ginny," he croaked.

His vision was suddenly full of a red blur.

"I'm here, Harry, just hold on," pleaded Ginny, Harry concerned by the panic in her voice.

Harry's vision began to clear, bringing Ginny into focus. It also revealed several other people standing over him that he did not recognise. They were applying a lot of pressure to his chest and Harry didn't know why.

He looked down and was shocked to see that towels were being used to cover his chest. The towels were stained scarlet with blood and Harry knew it was his.

"What's happening?" Harry asked, looking into Ginny's wide, scared eyes.

Harry was puzzled by the bleeding as he did not feel any pain at the moment. Maybe I'm getting better, he thought.

Ginny's bottom lip trembled as she looked at Harry. "You're bleeding again... and we don't know why."

Harry was beginning to worry. He wasn't scared by the thought of injuries or bleeding, but the fear in Ginny's voice concerned him greatly. Harry tried to think; what could be happening to him that scared Ginny so badly.

Panic and horror suddenly filled Harry. He felt his blood run cold as he strained against his unseen restraints.

"Get away from me," yelled Harry as fresh pain ripped through his body. "Ginny... don't... I was a Horcrux." Harry's world went black and he saw no more.

                                                               *

 

The Healer Lewis stood talking quietly with the Weasley's and Hermione. He was trying not to let his anger show as he reprimanded the family for being less than forthcoming with him.

"Most of my staff had no idea what Harry was yelling about, but I know what a Horcrux is, and Harry was very adamant that he himself had been a Horcrux." Lewis glared at the family. "Now, would one of you care to enlighten me as to what actually happened to that young man so that I may begin treating him properly?"

The Weasley's shuffled their feet as they looked at each other with uncertainty. Lewis waited for an answer, but once it became evident one was not going be given any time soon, he began to lose his patience.

"Let me make this clear. Harry has been hit by a Killing Curse... twice. The first instance left him with only a thin scar on his forehead. The second instance has left a large burn mark on his chest that shows no signs of healing; in fact every time the poor lad goes to sleep the wound reopens."

"Whatever is causing this bleeding while he sleeps, while related to the Killing Curse, appears to have an underlying problem behind it. Now I find out Harry has been exposed to something far worse than the Killing Curse. Did any of you consider that it might not be just the Killing Curse that is causing the problem?" Lewis held his temper as he saw the faces in front of him fall.

Hermione broke the silence, "We're very sorry, Lewis. We had been sworn to secrecy for Harry's safety." Tears began to well in her eyes. "Harry was a Horcrux... and he let Voldemort hit him with the Killing Curse to try and destroy the piece of soul within him."

Lewis' mouth hung open as he tried to comprehend what he had just heard.

"You mean Harry knew he would survive a Killing Curse?"

"No," Hermione shook her head, "He meant to die, but he survived again."

"Merlins beard."

                                                               *

 

The Weasley family had taken up various positions around the ward. Ginny remained steadfastly by Harry's side, holding his hand and hoping he knew she was there.

Lewis had spent the previous day researching treatments into dark magic but had gotten no further with a possible treatment for Harry. He stood now before Arthur and Molly and tried to explain that they had come to an impasse.

"This is something we are not equipped to deal with, and to be honest, we have no idea what to do next." The Healer looked flustered and apologetic as he continued, "I have even tasked one of my muggle-born Healer's with looking into muggle cures just in case they know something which might be of use, but I am not hopeful at this stage. This feels different somehow... this feels like magic, but not magic I have ever seen before. This is something... new..."

Hermione's mind raced as a puzzle piece fell into place. Killing Curses and Harry Potter had been linked forever in her mind, not because it was new magic, but because it was old.

"Dumbledore," gasped Hermione. The assembled group were startled by her voice as they looked around at her.

Ron was the first to react. "What do you mean, 'Mione?" Ron had spent enough time with Hermione over the years to know she would not have said anything without a reason.

The Weasley's looked at Hermione expectantly; even Lewis was curious about where this might be going. When Hermione spoke again her voice carried her familiar know-it-all tones.

"It's love." Hermione beamed at them, but her smile faded as she realised the others now looked more confused than before.

"What's love, dear?" asked Mrs Weasley kindly

"The mark on Harry's chest is a mark of love," Hermione was starting to gently bounce up and down on her feet as she played out her theory in her mind.

Ron looked rather put out by this statement, "I don't think being hit by the Killing Curse leaves a mark of love, Hermione. Are you sure you haven't been overdoing it a bit lately?"

Hermione merely glared at Ron before speaking again, "Harry sacrificed himself because he loves us... because he loves Ginny."

Ginny instinctively tightened her grip on Harry's hand at the mention of Harry's love for her.

Hermione continued, "That sacrifice protected us all during the final minutes of the battle with Voldemort and his Death Eaters, as Harry had been protected by his mother's similar sacrifice when she died to protect him." Her thoughts started to swirl, she could see a big flaw in her brilliant idea. "But Harry didn't die like his mother, although he should have." Hermione noticed Ginny glare at her from across the bed but ignored her. "Harry took the Killing Curse for us, but he wasn't supposed to live. This is old magic at its deepest, and we need to talk to somebody who knows about love."

Hermione could see that Mr and Mrs Weasley knew where she was going with this.

"Dumbledore knew about love," said Mrs Weasley. "Let's go and ask him shall we?"

Hermione could see the colour returning to Mrs Weasley's face, as she herself felt hope flare in her chest, the warmth spreading through her body. She smiled and nodded at Mrs Weasley, then turned and began walking towards the ward doors, Mrs Weasley right behind her.

"But Dumbledore's dead." Ron called after the two women, rising from his chair to follow them.

"Oh, Ronald," his mother said as she turned back to face him, "I think Minerva McGonagall can assist us with that little problem." She turned around and continued after Hermione. The rest of the Weasley men exchanged glances before rising from their places around the ward and following Mrs Weasley to the door. Only Ginny remained behind.

Arthur Weasley turned back to face his daughter. A hard look blazed in Ginny's eyes as she stared back at her father, as if daring him to ask that she leave Harry's side.

"Ginny, you stay here with Harry, okay?" Ginny's expression immediately softened as her father spoke. "He needs you, and he will take great comfort in your presence when he wakes to find the woman he loves is still with him."

With that Arthur Weasley turned and left the ward, Ginny watching her father leave as tears welled in her eyes. At that moment she had never respected her father more. He had understood how she felt without having to ask, and that meant so much to her.

Ginny turned back to Harry and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"Hold on, my love," she whispered, "hold on."

                                                               *

 

Minerva McGonagall jumped in fright as emerald green flames erupted beside her in the fireplace in her office. She looked into the flames and saw the face of Kingsley Shacklebolt peering out at her.

"Hello, Kingsley, to what do I owe this rather surprising call," enquired Minerva.

Kingsley looked apologetic as he began, "Sorry to call so late, Minerva. Molly Weasley has asked me if she could speak to Dumbledore's portrait urgently. She believes Albus may know something that can assist Harry."

Minerva involuntarily clutched her chest.

"Of course, Kingsley, when should I expect Molly?"

"Now," said Kingsley as Molly stepped through the image of Kingsley's face, followed rapidly by Hermione, Arthur, Ron, George, Bill, Percy, and Charlie.

"My goodness," exclaimed a startled Minerva McGonagall.

Molly gave the Headmistress a perfunctory embrace before explaining the purpose of their visit.

"Evening, Minerva, we need to ask Dumbledore some questions about old magic. Would you be able to assist us?" Molly spoke rapidly and Minerva could sense the urgency.

"Of course. This way," said Minerva as she led them to the portrait which hung behind her desk. "Albus, you have guests."

The portrait of Albus Dumbledore smiled serenely at the assembled group.

"Ah, good evening Molly, I see you have brought nearly all of your charming family with you." Dumbledore spoke in a jovial tone, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Harry, he's very sick and we don't know how to help him," said Molly as her voice cracked.

"Calm yourself dear. Now tell me, what has happened?" asked Dumbledore soothingly.

Molly related the events following the battle of Hogwarts up to this moment for Dumbledore, noticing that the expression on Dumbledore's face never changed from one of mild interest. After Molly had concluded her story, Dumbledore considered his response while looking out at the forlorn faces surrounding him.

"I may be able to help," began Dumbledore, "but you must understand that the ancient magic that has bound Harry and Voldemort for so long is not something that has been seen before. However, Harry once asked me to guess for him, and now I will do so again."

"I believe the problem lies not with Harry's sacrifice for love, but with his connection to Voldemort. I met with Harry after he was killed." The Weasley's exchanged shocked looks at one another but did not interrupt. "That meeting occurred in a place of Harry's making; a world between worlds. We discussed many things before Harry made his decision to return. However, he left a wretched piece of soul behind when he chose life. Voldemort's soul. That piece of soul has been unable to move on because it is incomplete and too corrupted by evil, but Harry has left it where it can do him no harm."

"However, when Voldemort was killed, the last piece of his ragged soul was also unable to go on. It is not inconceivable that this piece of soul still lingers in this world, and when Harry sleeps or has powerful emotions, his mind becomes open to Voldemort still. Dark magic always leaves a trace, and Harry has been touched by a considerable amount of dark magic at the hands of Voldemort."

Hermione thought she knew where this might be going. "How do we destroy the last piece of soul?"

"Why, Miss Granger, I think you already know the answer to that question. The same way you destroy any other part of Voldemort's soul." Dumbledore gave her a wry smile. "Tell me, did any of you attend a funeral for Voldemort?"

Arthur Weasley was already moving before Dumbledore finished asking the question.

"Bill, Charlie, come with me," ordered Arthur as he reached the fireplace. Arthur took a handful of floo powder and threw it into the fireplace.

"Fiendfyre," Hermione yelled after Mr Weasley.

 Arthur acknowledged Hermione with a raised hand as he shouted, "The Ministry of Magic." Green flames erupted and he stepped into them, vanishing with a whoosh. Bill and Charlie quickly followed.

Hermione and the rest of the Weasley family had watched their patriarch in awe. Hermione knew where he was going and why. She turned and addressed the portrait of Albus Dumbledore.

"Thank you, Professor."

Dumbledore grinned at Hermione, his blue eyes sparkling as he gave a small bow.

"You know what to do, Miss Granger" said Albus Dumbledore.

Hermione nodded and smiled, turning to the Weasley family.

"We need to get back to St Mungo's. Harry must be woken" said Hermione urgently.

George looked confused, "Why?"

"Because Mr Weasley is going to destroy the body of Voldemort, and I think it would be a very bad idea if there was any connection with Harry when it happens," answered Hermione, starting to move towards the fireplace, "Come on, we need to hurry."

After the rapid departure of Hermione and the Weasley's, Minerva McGonagall gave Dumbledore a stern look. "You could have said something earlier, Albus."

"My dear Professor, I am bound to assist the serving Head of this school, but I can only provide assistance if it is asked for."

                                                               *

 

Harry slept fitfully. Red eyes and death surrounded him and he could feel a strange pressure buffeting his body. He could hear voices calling him, but he couldn't tell where they were coming from.

The voices started becoming very insistent and he felt a burning on his face as his mind began to swim towards consciousness. Harry opened his eyes to find Hermione standing over him, her hand raised back as she prepared to slap him again.

"Wake up, Harry, please; you've got to wake up."

Harry looked around and saw a collection of people all standing around his bed. Ginny was being held back by Ron as she glared daggers at Hermione.

"Okay, he's awake now so leave him alone," Ginny yelled at Hermione.

Hermione continued to look at Harry. "I'm sorry, Harry, but you need to stay awake for a little while."

Ginny broke free from Ron and lunged at Hermione, pushing her away from Harry.

"Ginny..." began Mrs Weasley, startled by her daughter's outburst, but Hermione cut her off.

"It's okay, Mrs Weasley. Ginny doesn't know," said Hermione, as Ron rounded the bed and pulled her close to him, concern on his face.

Ginny had now thrown herself over Harry, as if trying to shield him from any further harm. Harry could feel her long hair tickling his neck and he began to smile.

"My Ginny," whispered Harry. "You're still here." He looked at Hermione and Ron, "What doesn't Ginny know, Hermione?"

"Mr Weasley is about to try and fix you, but you need to be awake when it happens," explained Hermione.

A look of fear passed across Harry's face as he considered what Hermione had just said. Arthur Weasley had been known to dabble in the odd muggle remedy when it came to his own treatment for wounds that would not stop bleeding. Images of stitches and glue floated in Harry's mind as panic began to fill his body.

"How?" asked Harry, as his eyes widened and swept the room looking for Arthur Weasley.

Hermione didn't know what to say. She didn't want to mention souls or Horcruxes in case it panicked Harry and sent him back into unconsciousness. Thankfully Mrs Weasley stepped in to rescue her.

"Dumbledore thought he might know how to fix your chest, Harry, and Arthur is carrying out a task for Dumbledore," said Mrs Weasley soothingly. She put her hand on Ginny's shoulder. "Ginevra, you will need to give Harry some space for this."

Ginny rose slowly from Harry. She looked into his eyes and she saw he was puzzled. She caressed his face and neck before stepping back from the bed.

"It's okay, Harry. I won't leave you."

                                                               *

 

Arthur ran through the corridors of the virtually deserted Ministry, his two sons following him as they tried to keep up. It was the middle of the night but Arthur knew Kingsley would still be here, buried in paperwork and red tape as he tried to restore order to the magical community. Bill gasped for breath as he ran after his father. The old bugger can move when he wants to, thought Bill, with a mixture of admiration and surprise. They kept running until they reached the door to the office of the Minister.

A secretary stood, clearly alarmed by the sudden appearance of the three running men. "You can't..." he began, but never got a chance to finish his sentence.

Arthur opened the door to the Minister's office and walked straight in.

Kingsley looked up, surprised by this unexpected intrusion. He was even more surprised when he realised it was Arthur Weasley. He thought he had left Arthur with Minerva McGonagall only fifteen minutes ago.

"Arthur, what...?

"Where's Voldemort's body, Kingsley?" asked Arthur between gulping breathes of air.

Kingsley was bewildered, "Voldemort's body... what's going on?"

"We need to destroy the body, Kingsley. It's what has been affecting Harry," said Arthur, and Kingsley could see he was serious.

"Department of Mysteries."

"Let's go. I'll explain on the way," said Arthur as he turned and began heading for the elevators, Bill and Charlie leading the way.

The four men made their way down to the Department of Mysteries; Arthur bringing Kingsley up to date on their discussion with Dumbledore. Kingsley had felt sick to the stomach as he thought of the body of Voldemort still being a burden for Harry to bear. Why didn't we destroy the body before now? Kingsley asked himself as they reached the Department of Mysteries.

The group made their way to a small room deep within the Department. Kingsley opened the door and they all looked at the table before them, a sheet covering what was obviously a body beneath it. Kingsley pulled the sheet off the table to reveal the white body of Voldemort, his snake like features causing everyone to recoil. The body had shown no signs of deterioration since the battle nearly a week ago.

Arthur recovered his composure. "Right, Kingsley, the body needs to be destroyed with Fiendfyre."

The blood drained from Kingsley's face as he looked at Arthur in shock.

"Arthur, are you sure?" asked Kingsley shakily.

"Yes," said Arthur, "unless you have a Basilisk fang handy?"

"I'm afraid not," said Kingsley as he smiled ruefully at Arthur. "I'll do it... but I'll need you three to help me contain the fire."

Arthur, Bill, and Charlie all grunted their agreement as they drew wands and prepared themselves.

Kingsley drew his wand and pointed it at the body on the table. "Right, we'll contain it to this room. On my count... one...two...three."

                                                               *

 

Heat flared in Harry's body. He suddenly arched against the restraints still holding him in the bed. Mrs Weasley gasped while George and Percy held Ginny back, as she tried to reach Harry.

The air around Harry began to sparkle and hiss as energy began emitting from him. He could feel the power pulsing through his chest and radiating out of his hands as his body lifted from the bed and broke through the restraints. Harry could hear shouts from around the room but he remained calm, feeling the heat but no pain.

Harry opened his eyes but could not see the room. Instead he saw destruction and death, red eyes and blood. But something was different this time. The images were playing backwards in his mind and were soon replaced by images of his friends.

Sirius Black stood before him, seemingly floating in midair, surrounded by mist. Sirius winked at him before he turned and walked off into the distance until he disappeared in the mist.

Sirius was replaced by Albus Dumbledore, who beamed at Harry with a twinkle in his eye. Dumbledore then turned and followed Sirius into the mists.

The procession of his family and friends continued, until finally, Harry watched his mother and father disappear into the mist, walking hand in hand. Harry could feel a peace settling over him; so many had died in the fight, but he now knew that he would one day see them again, but not today.

Harry felt his body fall back onto the mattress. He sat up in the hospital bed and opened his eyes.

"Harry, are you okay?" asked Hermione nervously as she noticed Harry's eyes now shone brightly, as if lit from within.

Harry looked around at the assembled group of worried faces. They seemed to be focussing on his chest. He looked down and was surprised to see the mark on his chest was now just a small thin scar, similar to the one on his forehead but without the unique lightning bolt shape. Harry gingerly touched the scar and to his relief felt no pain or discomfort.

"That was a good trick," said Harry, mostly to himself. He looked back at Hermione, "What did Mr Weasley do?" he asked with a lopsided grin.

Hermione hesitated briefly, afraid of upsetting Harry, but he would have to know sooner or later so he could deal with it properly.

"He... destroyed Voldemort's body."

Harry gave a small grunt, "I was still connected to him even in death, was I?"

Hermione smiled weakly and nodded, "How did you know, Harry?"

"With Dumbledore, it's always something like that," said Harry and shrugged his shoulders.

Ginny approached Harry and looked into his eyes. Harry smiled at her as he watched her move towards him. She still looked a little shaken and Harry wanted to hold her and reassure her.

"Harry, your eyes are glowing," whispered Ginny, as if Harry were showing some sort of immodesty in front of others.

Harry chuckled. He wouldn't have minded if his hair was on fire right now. He felt wonderful and free for the first time he could remember. He had an urge to sweep Ginny into his arms and kiss her, but thought best of it. Mrs Weasley may have accepted their relationship but he didn't think an overt display of affection in front of her would be appropriate.

 Ron stepped to the other side of the bed. "Are you sure you're alright, mate? It's was a bit unexpected when you floated above the bed like that."

Harry grinned at his best friend as he swung his legs off the bed and stood up, noticing for the first time that he was only wearing a pair of white hospital pants and nothing else.

"Harry..." yelled a startled Mrs Weasley.

But Harry ignored her as he tested his legs by bending them a few time. He took a few cautious steps and grinned at the shocked faces around the room.

"Has anybody got a mirror?" he asked.

"Behind you on the wall, dear," replied Mrs Weasley.

Harry turned and looked at his reflection. His eyes were indeed glowing softly. Cool, he thought, as he concentrated on his reflection. Harry shut his eyes and pictured his glowing eyes returning to their normal colour. When he opened his eyes again and looked into the mirror, he saw that their regular colour had indeed returned.

Harry didn't know why his eyes glowed, or what possible use it could have, but he didn't feel any pain or discomfort when it happened, so he decided not to worry about it for now.

Harry turned away from the mirror and stepped around the room until he came to Ginny. She looked up into his eyes as tears began to well in hers. Harry embraced Ginny and held her tightly, feeling alive and joyous. Harry was awed by Ginny and her acceptance of him, despite having learned of what he once carried within him. Mrs Weasley will just have to get used to it, Harry thought to himself as he lifted Ginny's chin and kissed her deeply, feeling a wave of love for this young woman who had refused to leave his side.

The Weasley's stood around the ward in awkward silence as Harry and Ginny continued to kiss, showing no signs of stopping any time soon.

"Eeeww," muttered Ron.

Harry broke his kiss from Ginny and turned to look at everyone. To his relief Mrs Weasley merely looked bemused by the whole spectacle.

"Sorry," said Harry sheepishly as he blushed.

Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry's waist from behind him and kissed his shoulder as she looked at her families embarrassed expressions. She couldn't help but laugh as she felt relief run through her body. She felt so light, a great weight lifted from her as she revelled in the feel of Harry being with her again.

Mrs Weasley smiled at her daughter before she turned to Percy. "Percy, dear, can you let Lewis back in? I believe he may have kittens if we don't open the door soon."

Percy walked to the ward door and waved his wand at the door handle. The door instantly flew open as several people fell into the room, emitting a barrage of shouts and gasps as they tried to untangle themselves from each other and stand up.

Lewis was angry and he would no longer tolerate the interference of the Weasley's when it came to the treatment of Harry Potter. He looked to the bed to make sure Harry was alright, but felt his stomach drop when he saw the empty bed.

"What have you done with him?" demanded Lewis, as he rounded on Mrs Weasley.

"It's okay," said Harry from behind the Healer. "I'm still here."

Lewis turned and felt his jaw drop as he looked at Harry Potter standing before him. He immediately noticed the chest wound was now all but gone, and Harry had a life and light in his eyes that he hadn't seen since the young man had been brought into St Mungo's.

"Harry," said Hermione, "this is Lewis, the Healer who has been treating you."

Lewis was shocked when Harry stepped to him and embraced him for a moment.

"Thank you, Lewis," said a grinning Harry.

Lewis mumbled something incoherent as he looked at Harry, well aware that whatever was the cause of Harry's sudden recovery, it was not his doing. He did however, retain his Healer's instinct.

"Back in to bed, young man. I need to examine you," ordered Lewis, his curiosity overriding his bafflement.

Harry stepped back to the bed and lay down, as Lewis and his assistants set to work trying to diagnose a problem that no longer existed. The Weasley's and Hermione departed the ward to get some food and let Arthur know what had happened. After two hours of being prodded and inspected Harry was beginning to lose his sense of humour.

"I think that's just about enough. I'd like to go home now if you don't mind," said Harry irritably as he sat up in the bed.

Lewis looked startled, "Absolutely not. You will remain here until I can be sure that you are not going to drop dead the moment you leave the hospital. I don't want that on my record, Mr Potter."

Harry almost laughed at the Healer. The poor man was only trying to do his job, after all. "Don't worry, I will absolve you of all responsibility for my welfare, Lewis. But I am going home... with or without your consent."

Lewis looked at Harry and saw determination on his face. He knew he was going to lose this argument. The famous Harry Potter could probably call in enough favours to have every patient sent home if he so desired. Lewis shrugged resignedly and tried another tactic; he would try and meet his patient half way.

"Alright, Mr Potter, you can go home, but you will be visited every day by a Healer until we are confident that you have fully healed. Is that understood?" Lewis asked.

"Fair enough," said Harry, grinning broadly as he got up from the bed.

                                                               *

 

Arthur Weasley had returned to St Mungo's with Bill and Charlie, following the destruction of Voldemort's body. He had run into Molly and the rest of his family in the cafe on the ground floor. They were all discussing the events of the evening and preparing to return to the Burrow for a good night's sleep. Even Ginny had finally accepted that she needed to have a shower and sleep in a real bed for at least a night. Molly had assured her daughter they would return first thing tomorrow to check on Harry.

As they stood and began making their way passed the reception desk they had been shocked to find Harry standing at the counter signing parchments. He was dressed in his stained jeans and a hospital gown, while his feet were bare.

"Harry, dear," started Mrs Weasley, "what are you doing? You can't leave yet."

Harry turned and smiled at Mrs Weasley, grateful for her concern. "Yes I can. In fact, I just did. I was just writing a note for you actually. I'm going home now but the Healers will be coming to see me tomorrow."

Mrs Weasley looked unconvinced but Ginny looked delighted. Harry took Ginny's hand as he spoke to her.

"I'll come and see you tomorrow, Gin," said Harry as he gave Ginny a gentle hug.

Ginny broke apart from Harry and looked at him with wide eyes, confusion on her face.

"What... I thought you said you were coming home?" said Ginny, her voice almost pleading as the other Weasley's also looked at Harry with confused expressions.

"I'm going to my home," explained Harry, "at Grimmauld Place."

Ginny's face fell and Mrs Weasley looked as if she had been slapped. Arthur Weasley decided to intervene and cut off Molly's rant before it could begin.

"Harry, son, we are not leaving you by yourself. We are your family and we will always be your family." Arthur smiled at Harry as he continued. "Now, you can choose whether you go to Grimmauld Place or the Burrow, as long as you realise that we will be going with you."

Harry was touched as he saw the rest of the assembled group nodding their agreement. He was deeply moved that this family had not shunned him upon learning of his Horcrux secret, and he didn't really want to spend a night with only himself for company.

"Are you sure?" he asked Mrs Weasley.

Mrs Weasley gave him a bright smile and patted his arm, "Let's go home."

                                                               *

 

The night sky was clear and bright as Harry stood alone in the back garden of the Burrow, enjoying the feel of the cool air on his skin as he sipped from a hot cup of tea.

Inside the Burrow, Arthur and Molly stood at the kitchen window watching Harry while their children had scattered themselves around their home. Molly felt a sense of relief as she looked at Harry, for she had wondered if she would ever see him again after he disappeared. She had actually thought they had lost him when she saw his body on the bathroom floor at Grimmauld Place.

Molly thought of Ginny's anguished scream when she had found Harry, and it sent an involuntary shiver down her back. Her daughter and her surrogate son had endured enough torment and heartache for a lifetime; now she intended to make sure they finally had some peace.

"Arthur, love, we need to make some decisions about Harry. I know you wanted to bring him here but we need to make sure this is the best place for him to recover," said Molly quietly.

Arthur gave his wife's shoulder a squeeze. "I know. He seems happy at the moment, in fact I've never seen him happier, but I am concerned about what might happen when he falls asleep tonight. His nightmares might not be at an end yet, Voldemort or otherwise."

"Should we perhaps put him in a separate room tonight, rather than with Ginny?" asked Molly with concern. She had not even considered that while the nightmares Harry had when connected to Voldemort might have ceased, Harry still had enough other trauma's to disturb the sleep of any man.

Arthur smiled at Molly's suggestion as he continued to look out the window at Harry. "I believe Ginny would find her way to Harry no matter where we put him. We'll leave them together; besides, Ginny has a calming effect on Harry so it may be the best thing for him."

Molly was again astounded by her husband. She didn't know too many men who would understand their daughters, as he understood Ginny and her love for Harry.

"They're very much in love, Arthur. I can see it written all over them," said Molly.

"Mmm. I wonder how much went on between them before Harry left last year?" remarked Arthur thoughtfully.

Molly was reminded that Harry and Ginny had eluded her question about their previous relationship the night after the battle. "They certainly don't seem to have any trouble expressing their affection for each other," observed Molly.

"Probably all that wobbly apparation," laughed Arthur.

"What are you talking about?" asked Molly, glad to hear her husband laugh again.

Arthur told Molly about what he had seen on their return to the Burrow following the battle, and Ginny's hastily improvised excuse, leaving Molly with a fit of the giggles.

As Molly laughed at the antics of her daughter, George stepped into the kitchen looking rather pale and drawn.

"Oh, George, are you alright?" asked Molly with concern.

"Yes, Mum, is that Harry outside?"

"Yes dear, he's just having some tea before bed."

George started walking towards the back door. "Ginny's in the shower," he told his mother, "So I'll go and talk to Harry."

 Molly and Arthur watched their son and knew he was going to apologise to Harry. They knew he had blamed himself over and over again for driving Harry away, which had nearly resulted in Harry's death.

"Would you like us to come with you, son?" asked Arthur kindly.

George gave his father a small smile, "Thanks Dad, but I need to do this alone." With that he opened the door and approached Harry.

Harry heard the door open behind him and turned with a smile on his face, which faltered a little as he saw George, and not Ginny, approaching him.

"George," said Harry politely but warily, as he returned his gaze to the night sky beyond the garden after leaning down and placing his mug on the ground at his feet.

George came and stood next to Harry. He gazed out into the distance with Harry for a minute as he screwed up his courage and began to speak.

"I am ashamed of the way I treated you, Harry. I said horrible things to you and I didn't have the right. You would have saved everyone if you could have, you even died to try and save us. I'll understand if you need time, but please forgive me, Harry." George drew in a deep breath as his finished talking, as if bracing himself for the worst.

Harry looked at George, feeling a wave of sympathy for him. He knew the regret that came with laying blame. He had, after all, blamed Dumbledore for Sirius' death when his godfather was killed. Harry gave George a small, sad, smile as he stepped to him and the two men embraced. Neither felt the need to speak as they renewed their bond of friendship.

 George stepped back and smiled with relief as he looked at Harry. There was one more thing he had to ask before his courage failed him.

"Dumbledore told us you died. What was it like...you know...on the other side?" he asked.

Harry knew why George would ask this.

"It was light and warm and peaceful," said Harry, "and it became what I imagined it as. Fred would have gone on because he didn't have a choice like I did, but he would have gone to a good place and you will see him again one day. I know you will."

George was at that moment eternally grateful that Harry had shown not hostility, but love towards him. He turned to Harry with tears in his eyes. "Thank you, Harry, I needed to hear that."

With that the two young men embraced again as they were watched by two proud parents through the kitchen window. They broke apart as the back door opened and Ginny appeared silhouetted in the door way. George grinned and gave Harry a conspiratorial wink as he walked back across the garden into the house, placing his hand on Ginny's shoulder as he passed her.

Ginny joined Harry as he stood in the back garden. She was wearing a nightgown over her pyjama top and her hair was still wet. Harry thought she looked beautiful in the moonlight, as she put an arm around his waist.

"Are you okay, Harry?" she asked tenderly.

"Yeah, Gin. George and I were just talking about Fred, that's all. He wanted to know what I saw when I died."

Ginny's face fell as she thought of Fred. "Fred's funeral will be held tomorrow afternoon."

Harry was surprised, "You haven't had the funeral yet?"

"No, Dad and George wanted to wait until you came back to us."

Harry was suddenly speechless and tears stung his eyes as his throat started to burn.

"We all wanted you to be here, Harry," said Ginny as she rubbed Harry's back.

Harry could only nod as he wiped his eyes and looked down at Ginny.

"Come on my sweet Harry, let's go to bed."

Harry hesitated, "I'd rather stay with you for a little while longer, Gin."

Ginny smiled at Harry, and Harry thought he saw something mischievous in her beautiful brown eyes.

"Why not do both?" she asked as she took Harry's hand and led him into the house. Harry didn't know where this was going but he was curious.

Once they reached the kitchen, they found Arthur and Molly waiting for them.

"Mum, Dad," said Ginny, "we're going to bed."

"That's a good idea, love," said Mrs Weasley as she gave both Harry and Ginny a quick hug. "Now remember what we discussed, young lady." Mrs Weasley gave her daughter a stern look, but smirked a little as she saw the baffled look on Harry's face. "You haven't told him yet?" she asked Ginny.

Ginny smiled and shook her head, and Harry noticed she was blushing slightly.

"Well, take Ron and Hermione with you. They're in the living room, no doubt sitting on top of one another," Mrs Weasley chuckled as Ginny and Harry left the room.

As predicted, Harry and Ginny found Ron and Hermione lying stretched out on the couch together, quietly talking.

Ginny grinned at them, "Time for bed you two."

As Ron and Hermione untangled themselves from each other, Harry was surprised to see nobody else in the room.

"Where is everyone?" he asked Ron.

"Well, Bill went back to Shell Cottage, Percy went to his flat, Charlie and George claimed they could not look at Hermione and me any longer so they went to bed. They're sharing George's old room. Mum and Dad are in the kitchen, and you and Ginny are standing in the living room. I think that about covers it."

"You git," laughed Harry.

The two couples traipsed up the stairs until they reached the first floor landing and the door to Ginny's room. Ginny turned and spoke to Ron and Hermione.

"Well, goodnight you two."

Ron and Hermione said goodnight as they continued up the stairs, leaving a smiling Ginny and bewildered Harry behind. Ginny opened the door of her bedroom and Harry saw that the single bed which had been in there last year had now been replaced with a double bed. His mind reeled with the possible implication of this development.

"Uh... Ginny, you seem to be under the impression I'm sleeping in your room tonight," said Harry nervously.

"That's because you are, my sweet. Now, get in there," ordered Ginny as she pushed Harry into her room. She followed him in and closed the door behind them.

"What about your parents, Gin?" asked Harry, looking around as though he were expecting Mr Weasley to jump out of the cupboard at any moment and hex him into a blubbering mess.

"Who do you think helped me move the bed in here?" asked Ginny as she took off her nightgown to reveal she was wearing a flannelette pyjama top and little else.

Harry couldn't help himself as he looked at her legs and felt his mouth fall open. Ginny could feel Harry's eyes on her as she climbed into bed.  As Harry stood rooted to the spot Ginny decided there was only one way to get past this. She got out of the bed and walked to the door, opened it and called for her mother.

Mrs Weasley came climbing up the stairs, "Is everything alright, Ginny? Is Harry okay?" she asked as she reached the bedroom door, slightly breathless.

"Yes, Mum, Harry's fine. But he seems to be having a little trouble understanding that he is allowed to sleep in my room."

Mrs Weasley snorted as she looked at Harry. "Harry dear, Arthur and I have given our blessing to you and Ginny. We know you love each other very much and we are happy for you to share a bed; we ask only that you act sensibly while you live under our roof." Mrs Weasley smiled kindly at Harry, knowing the poor boy must be terribly embarrassed.

Harry nodded but didn't dare open his mouth.

"Goodnight dears," said Mrs Weasley as she headed back downstairs.

'"Goodnight Mum," Ginny called after her mother as she shut the bedroom door.

Ginny stepped to Harry and put her arms around his neck. "Now, my sweet Harry, please cast whatever charms you think we may need to secure our privacy, and take me to bed."

Harry, eyes wide and glowing slightly as he grinned, drew his wand and cast several quick spells non-verbally, ensuring nobody could hear them or enter the room.

"Harry, your eyes are glowing," whispered Ginny as she looked at him.

"Oh, sorry," said Harry as he shut his eyes. When he opened them again they had returned to their normal colour.

Ginny looked on with curiosity. "Why do you think that happens?"

Harry considered for a moment, "I don't know, Gin. I didn't do it intentionally."

"What did you feel when you did it?"

Harry blushed slightly, "I was feeling very happy for some reason."

Ginny had a hunch about Harry's eyes but she would have to test her theory to prove it. That could wait for another day, she told herself as she reached up and took Harry's glasses off. Then she kissed Harry as she had done almost a year ago in this very room. She had finally come full circle and she wasn't going to let anyone take their happiness from them again.

Harry and Ginny climbed into bed and were soon fast asleep as they held one another, Ginny covering the scar on Harry's chest with her hand; and Harry dreamt of Ginny and a future without darkness and war.

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