The wedding was over; it had gone without a hitch. Bill and Fleur were now joined in wedlock, and despite previous…um…disagreements, the Weasley’s were happy that Bill was happy. Since his attack, Fleur seemed to be the only thing that could make him truly smile.

Sitting on the rickety porch swing that was not suspended from a porch, but from thin air, Harry Potter thought. He thought about his upcoming departure. He thought of his task. He thought of what he was leaving behind. Those were the thoughts that really plagued him.

Ginny was never far from his mind. It was worse than when he was at school. Back then, going out with the beautiful Ginny Weasley had just been a fantasy. Now that it had been a reality, Harry was suffering withdrawal. He almost wished that he never had kissed her that first day after the Quidditch final. Maybe if they had never been together, it wouldn’t hurt so much now. Now his mind was filled with could haves and what ifs.

He knew now that he needed her. But this was his last night at the Burrow. It was too late to make amends. Too late to tell her that without her, he had no strength to defeat Voldemort.

The door slammed behind him, and a small figure came darting out of it, not even noticing Harry. Red hair streamed behind her as she ran across the messy, overgrown yard and to the path leading to the lake. Harry watched her run, and remembered a time that he was the one she ran to. A vision of her running to him after the Quidditch final came to him. That was right before he kissed her, making the best mistake of his life.

Harry remembered that kiss, and knew that if anything could make him happy, it was that. He jumped up from his seat and left it creaking behind him as he ran as fast as he could. He had no idea what he was doing, other than that he could not risk his life until he had one last moment of joy.

He chased her down the messy path to a shining lake that had often been used for swimming on hot days. Brambles and branches caught at his clothes, but he kept running. He turned that last corner that would bring him face to face with the lake. Instead he found himself face to face with something else. Someone else.

Harry stopped short, digging his heels into the ground so he wouldn’t run into Ginny and push her right into the lake. He gazed down at her and saw the glisten of tears in her eyes. She tilted her head up, and wore that same look that always won him over. Harry saw that look and remembered the wonderful times they had when they were together. And he couldn’t stop himself. He wondered if he was under the Imperius Curse. But this was no curse, in any shape or form.

He bent his head down and met her lips with his. Time seemed to stop as she rose up to meet him and deepened the kiss. Harry’s mind was in a daze-he had some kind of mental high that he wanted never to end. His arms encircled her waist, and hers came up to rest on his chest. He loved the feeling of her hands. She deepened the kiss even more, exploring his mouth like she wanted to remember it forever. A moan rose from the back of his throat and he felt like anything was possible. Magic? Who needed magic? He could fly without it.

Eventually, they both needed to breathe. Harry had a brief thought of gillyweed, and had an absurd idea that if he ate some, he could kiss Ginny forever. They pulled apart, and Harry’s arms dropped to his sides. He stared into her eyes for a moment, then realized that his moment of joy had been incredibly selfish. It could cost her her life.

Harry, not being able to take what he had just done, turned on his heel, preparing to run away. Then a voice like a knife cut through the air.

“You’re good at that, aren’t you?” Ginny asked severely. Harry halted, and briefly wondered if she was talking about his kissing talents. Then he remembered that he was poised to run away.

She continued, “Good at running away, Potter. You're just going to snog me senseless and then run away? You don't think about anyone but yourself. Ron told me about your plan. Sneaking away in the night, leaving a note? Everyone thinks you’re so brave and mighty, but I know you’re not. You’re just scared,” Her voice was cut through him like a knife. It was harsh, but Harry welcomed it. He felt he deserved it. “But you’re not scared of Voldemort, no. Are you scared of me, Harry? Scared that I’ll mess up your big, secret operation? That it’s just too risky to tell me what’s going on?”

“No, Ginny, you don’t understand…” Harry turned around as he trailed off. He didn’t want to put her in danger, but he had to make her see.

“What don’t I understand, Harry? That Ron and Hermione are just better and stronger than me? That I’ll just be in the way?”

“NO,” Harry said so forcefully that an owl hooted and soared away from its perch in the tree above them. “You don’t understand that I love you! That I NEED to know that you are safe here while I’m out there! You don’t understand that the thought of coming back to you, coming back to that,” at this point Harry made some wild gesture with his hands, obviously referring to their kiss, “is the only thing that is motivating me! Sure, I may miss you a lot, but at least you won’t be dead!”

The abrupt stop of his thunderous voice left the lake rippling. Harry was glad for a moment that they were far enough away from the Burrow so none of the Weasley’s could hear his heartfelt speech.

Ginny stared at him for a long while, obviously stuck on the “I love you” part. But then she spoke words that Harry was not expecting, or welcoming. “How do you know, Harry?”

“How do I know what?” He asked, eyes wide, still breathing heavily.

“That I won’t be dead here? And I’m not even talking about the romantic, ‘I’m dead without you’ bit.” She took a step towards him, shaking her head softly, “Who have you told that we’re not together? Huh, Harry, how many people know?” She started ticking people off on her fingers, “I didn’t tell any of my friends, I was too embarrassed. We went home right after the funeral, and we had no contact with anyone else, including Slytherins. You only told Ron and Hermione. My family never officially knew we were going out, so they never officially knew we broke up either. Malfoy and Snape, the too major people that were feeding Voldemort information about you, fled the scene right after Dumbledore was killed. We were still going out then.” She took another step forward and pushed at his chest, accenting her words, “Voldemort-thinks-we’re-to-ge-ther.”

Harry stood there, mouth agape, contemplating this. Never had he thought of exactly what Voldemort knew. Never had he thought that his “stupid, noble” gesture had actually been, well, stupid. Unless…no, Harry knew Voldemort hadn’t had access into his mind, he surely would have felt it.

Ginny spoke again, breaking into his thoughts, “How much of an easy target am I now? They'll just kidnap the little girlfriend that was left at home. No matter where I go, I won’t be safe. They took me to the Chamber back when you barely knew me. In the Department of Mysteries they were going to torture me just because I was the smallest, and a Weasley at that. Nice try, Harry, but the only thing that can come of this is me still being a target and us both being loveless and unhappy.”

Her words struck him. He was still a tad giddy from the kiss, and he knew that recalling that recent memory would allow him to make a million Patronuses. Voldemort despised love, and Harry imagined that if he could feel the love that Harry felt, he would drop dead now, horcrux or no horcrux.

“Ginny,” he whispered, never being so truthful in his life, “I love you.” She put her arms around his neck.

“I love you too, Potter,” But this time when she used his surname, she sounded more like a girlfriend and less like McGonagall.

Then he softly said the words that he hoped with all his heart he would never have to regret.

“Come with me.”