Rekindled

A New Dawn

The castle was quiet now, though the signs of battle remained etched into every stone, every shattered window, every darkened corner of Hogwarts. The Great Hall had been cleared of the fallen, and the survivors had drifted to quieter corners of the castle, seeking solace or sleep. For the first time in hours, Harry Potter found himself alone.

He stood on the stone steps leading to the entrance of the castle, staring out at the horizon. The sun was beginning to rise, painting the sky with streaks of gold and pink. The dawn felt strange, as though the world had no right to look so beautiful after everything it had endured. Harry's hand brushed the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. It didn't hurt anymore. For the first time in years, it didn't hurt.

The sound of soft footsteps on the gravel behind him broke his thoughts. He turned, and his breath caught in his throat. Ginny Weasley stood there, her red hair catching the early light. Her face was pale, streaked with dust, but her eyes burned with something Harry couldn't quite name—relief, exhaustion, anger, and something else he dared to hope was love.

"Hi," she said, her voice quiet but steady.

"Hi," Harry replied, his voice catching slightly. He felt awkward, unsure of what to say. The memory of their last kiss—what felt like a lifetime ago—rose unbidden in his mind. He'd broken it off to protect her, to keep her safe, and now here she was, standing before him, alive and whole. He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve her.

Ginny stepped closer, her eyes searching his face. "You're okay?" she asked, though it wasn't really a question. Her gaze lingered on his scar.

Harry nodded. "I'm fine. Just... tired."

Ginny snorted softly, her lips quirking in a half-smile. "You've just saved the wizarding world, Harry. I think you're allowed to be tired."

He tried to laugh, but it came out as a shaky exhale. "I didn't do it alone," he said, his voice dropping. "So many people..."

"I know," Ginny said, stepping closer still. "But you did it. Voldemort's gone."

Harry looked at her, taking in the way her eyes shone, fierce and unwavering. She wasn't afraid to say the name. She never had been. "I'm sorry," he blurted out suddenly. "For leaving. For everything. I—I thought it was the only way to keep you safe."

Ginny's brow furrowed, and for a moment Harry thought she was going to yell at him, but instead, she reached out and placed a hand on his arm. "You're an idiot, Harry Potter," she said softly. "But you're my idiot."

Harry stared at her, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. "Ginny, I—"

"Shut up," she said, stepping even closer. And then, before he could say another word, she leaned in and kissed him.

It wasn't like their first kiss in the Gryffindor common room, full of surprise and fire. This kiss was something deeper, something steadier. It was an anchor in the chaos, a promise of something they had both fought so hard to live for. Harry felt the tension leave his body as he kissed her back, his hands tangling in her hair.

When they finally pulled apart, Ginny rested her forehead against his, her breath warm against his skin. "Don't you dare leave me again," she whispered.

"I won't," Harry promised, his voice firm. "Not ever."

For the first time in what felt like years, Harry allowed himself to believe it was true. The war was over, and there was a future waiting for them—a future he would fight for with every ounce of strength he had left.

Hand in hand, they turned back toward the castle, where the first rays of sunlight were spilling through the broken windows, lighting the path ahead.

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