DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, except an overactive imagination and a bad case of insomnia.

SUMMARY: It was a normal day- well, as normal as things could be with for Ginny with a war raging around her and love sweeping her off her feet- that lead to the most terrifying situation any witch would ever want to be in: captured by Death Eaters and held captive by the man who killed Albus Dumbledore, the man whom he trusted until his dying breath. Will Ginny be able to see past the harsh mask of a man who has endured so much pain that he is afraid to feel? A story of redemption and compassion, of forgiving others and learning how to forgive yourself

The wind was warm as it whipped through the flaming red hair of the young woman lying on the rocky shore, staring out at the waves coursing through the lake in front of her. The continual motion was soothing, almost hypnotizing in its fluidity and grace. Beyond the frothing water, Ginny could clearly see the outline of the enormous castle which lay beyond it, light emanating softly from its many windows. Earlier that day, the now empty water was filled with boats, which were filled in turn with first years making their way to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the first time, their eyes wide with awe. She remembered the day, seven years ago, when she too had made this journey for the first time. Now, looking back, she couldn’t imagine being that naive, that carefree, that innocent. 

“Ginny? A gentle voice shook her from her reverie and she turned her gaze to the bright green eyes of the man next to her. 

“Sorry” she said, embarrassed that she had almost forgotten that Harry was was right beside her “It’s just the waves..they’re so beautiful” she gushed. 

“Just like you” he murmured, turning to look at her and smiling, although he seemed a bit preoccupied. Although she knew the happiness displayed on his face was genuine, she could still see traces of pain and worry hidden in his eyes, mementos of the war that had shaped his life. 

Although he never mentioned it, always trying to convey hope and raise morale among his friends and allies, she knew without needing to ask that there were some days when he had no idea what to do, knew that he had been given much more responsibility than was his fair share in life. Ginny smiled back, laying her head on his shoulder for both his comfort and her own. Looking back at the castle which had been her second home for much of the last seven years, she realized how strange it felt not to be a student anymore, not to be a child. She had been inducted into the order just a few months ago, as Harry had the year before .

    Harry and Ginny, along with Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Luna, had all returned to the school for a week or so, to reunite and, unofficially, to try to resurrect “Dumbledore's Army” of their fifth year. When Harry had told McGonagall of the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts job after Dumbledore’s death, she hadn’t known what to do. 

“What do you expect me to do, Potter?” she had cried “I can’t just appoint someone without telling them, and no one will want the job once I do tell them.”

   Just as she had expected, she had been unable to find a teacher. Each of the other teachers had tried to incorporate bits of defensive magic to substitute for the lack of a Defense teacher, but the curriculum was nowhere as extensive as it should be, especially in times like these, with Voldemort on the loose and rapidly gaining power. Because of this, Harry had offered to come to the school for a few days this year to convince the students to teach themselves defensive magic by banding together in a group, each helping the other, as he had in his fifth year.

   He planned to help excite and unite the students, telling them of the danger that would face them both outside and inside the walls of Hogwarts, encouraging them, and teaching them some of the more advanced magic their peers would be unable to assist them with. Ron and Hermione had, of course, insisted upon helping, along with Neville and Luna. The six of them, counting Harry and Ginny, had taken to calling themselves the “Junior Order” after the fight at the Ministry, and, although all six were now full fledged members, the name had stuck. 

When Harry felt that he had sufficiently started the ball rolling and that the group could continue without his assistance, he could, with a clean conscience, return to the matter at hand: finding and destroying Voldemort’s remaining Horcruxes. He had, since learning of them, been able to destroy the cup of Helga Hufflepuff as well as a wand once belonging to Rowena Ravenclaw that he had ascertained to be a Horcrux. As Dumbledore had already destroyed Slytherin’s ring, and Harry had taken care of the diary in his second year, Harry suspected that there were still two Horcruxes that remained, since Dumbledore believed there were six total. 

Ginny knew very little about Harry’s search, for he only told them exactly what they needed to know, and little else. She understood why, of course. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them, it was just that, if the information was in their minds, Voldemort could doubtless find a way to access it, whether through Veritaserum, Legilimency, or good old fashioned torture. 

     Harry shifted beside her, and she turned to look at him. It looked to her as though he was looking past her eyes and seeing straight into her soul. Suddenly, Harry took a deep breath and began to speak in a quiet and gentle tone, his eyes never wavering from hers.

“Ginny, I...” He stopped, sighed and began again. “Ginny, I love you. In my sixth year, I tried to forget that. I was so scared that something would happen to you because of me. I tried to forget, but I couldn’t”

    Ginny nodded. For the last two years they had both been desperately trying to be noble, to distance themselves for each others sakes, but they had had little success... Every time she saw him, she couldn’t help but remember how she felt about him, and she was relatively certain that he felt the same way.

   He fumbled around in his jacket before pulling out a small parcel. Her heart began to beat faster, fluttering around her chest like a butterfly. 

“I couldn’t forget that I love you, and I hope that you still love me”

Ginny nodded, smiling broadly.

“I need to know…I need to reassure myself that life will be different after we defeat Voldemort. I need to remind myself that there will be a time when we aren’t constantly looking over our shoulders to see if there are Death Eaters are around. I know that we can’t do anything until after Voldemort is gone, we can’’t even act any different or tell anyone, but I have to know. Ginny, will you marry me? “ he asked, opening the parcel to reveal a exquisitely crafted ring with a bright blue sapphire twinkling in its center. 

   His words hung in the air for a split second before she threw her arms around him, laughing and crying at the same time.  She had always hoped, always dreamed that this day would come, ever since she was just ten years old. Of course, when she had first met Harry, it was nothing more than a silly schoolgirl crush, the wild fantasy of a little girl. She hadn’t known him, or at least, hadn’t known more than his name, his face, and the fame that went along with both.

When she was just eleven, he had saved her life, risking her life for hers even though she was the on who had been weak enough to be tricked by a diary into doing horrendous, horrible things. Even after he rescued her, after he knew the truth, he was kind to her, not once blaming her for what had happened.

Through the years they shared at school, her admiration blossomed from hero worship into a fiercely strong friendship and trust, born of evenings spent laughing in the common room, lunches spent discussing Quidditch, and near misses with death more times than she wished to count. Slowly, ever so slowly, their friendship had changed into something that was much more, an even stronger bond of love, trust, and understanding.

It’s a funny thing, the progression of a relationship from simple friendship into the complex world of emotions which surpassed those of mere friends. The transition occurs so gradually that neither person realizes how far down the path towards love they have traversed until they look back and see how far they have come.

She would always remember the first time her lips met his; she would remember it for the rest of her life. The common room had been crowded, but at that moment they had been the only people on the fact of the earth. The noise had been overwhelming, full of excitement, but at that moment all sound seemed to fall from the sky.

Another moment indelibly engraved upon Ginny’s memory was the day Harry told her that they couldn’t be together any longer, that it would put her too much at risk. She remembered it clearly because it was the day her heart tore in two. She understood why he did it, of course; even at fifteen she was anything but naïve. But even so, there was some part of her that wanted to shout, to yell, to throw herself at him like a toddler and thrown a temper tantrum, screaming “NO”, telling him that she didn’t care, that she didn’t mind the risk.

But she didn’t. She knew in her heart that if she were killed, he would never forgive himself. He already carried a self imposed burden of guilt after Sirius’ death; the last think he needed was something more to feel guilty about. So she had nodded, had said she understood, had agreed, even though that little part of her was still screaming hysterically, begging to be acknowledged even as she tried in vain to push it still deeper within herself.

She and Harry had seen each other, of course, but they both had been putting on an act, performing a show for the rest of the world to see. To anyone else, it would look like they were friends, nothing more. To anyone else, the scars on their hearts would remain safe and invisible, hidden from the world.

But, finally, this day had come. She had lived this moment out before, in her dreams and her daydreams, but finally, it had happened for real. Ginny knew that she should question him, ask why he had changed his mind, ask him any number of pertinent, logical questions. But she couldn’t. That little part of her, the part that she had kept hidden for so long, took control of her body, her heart finally escaping the harness of her mind.

“Yes, of course!” she replied emphatically, tears of joy streaming down her face. 

The look on Harry’s face was one of happiness, of a long held hope finally coming to fruition. Without another word, he leaned over and gently pressed his lips to hers, an echo of the kiss that had changed both of their lives so many months ago. She kissed him back, all the pent up emotion and pain and joy jumbled up inside her escaping through the kiss. Once again, it was a moment that she wished with all her heart could last forever, even though she knew it was a stupid hope. She knew that they would have to endure pain, more suffering, more of what was inevitable in the course of war. But now they both had something more, some light in the gloom that seemed to dominate much of their lives. Now, they could look forward and have something to look forward to.

   She couldn’t remember a time when she had been this happy. To her, it was absurd and wonderful that happiness, love, joy, could still exist when danger hung over their heads like a dark cloud. But she knew that if they lived each day in fear, Voldemort would have won. Dumbledore had told Harry many times that the power that he possessed was his ability to love, a power that Voldemort lacked. The strength of the Order and those on their side came mainly from the fact that they had something to fight for, their love, their happiness, their joy. If they let him take that away, they would become just like him and his Death Eaters. After all, she knew that Dumbledore would be happy to see that there was a little more love in the world.