When Harry Potter woke up, he looked around and saw that he was alone in the dormitory. The afternoon sun was shining outside his window. Around him, everything was quiet. Would people stay in the castle, or was everyone going home?

For himself he thought, Today I will do nothing.

Scratch that.

Maybe he could spend the day with Ginny, enjoy some time alone with her by the lake. Make up for lost time and perhaps see if there was still a spark of love between them.

Feeling a mixture of restlessness and zeal, he sat up in bed and said into the room,
“Kreacher?” Harry’s voice was hoarse from disuse. He cleared his throat and was about to call again when the elf apparated in with a loud crack in the silent room.

“Yes, Master Harry?”

Kreacher was dressed in a clean white Hogwarts uniform with gold details, and Regulus’s medallion decorated his chest.

“Could you please find Hermione and get my bag? Could I get some breakfast too, please?”

“Yes, Master,” Kreacher answered, before hesitating. “Master Harry?”

“Yeah?”

Kreacher looked down, then his gaze shifted to Harry’s knees. Harry waited for the nervous elf to speak.

“Yous house…”

“Did the Death Eaters hurt you?” Harry asked, alarmed.

He had been picturing different scenarios of what the Death Eaters could have done to him.

“No, but the house fought back. Yous are not able to live there. Kreacher saw the cealing over the drawing room tumbling down.”

“Were you hurt?” Harry asked, terrified.

“Not me, sir. But there’s dead Death Eaters caught in the rubble. Kreacher will ask for Master’s permission to vanish them.”

Harry thought the elf looked smug, but it was gone the next second. He sat down on his knees to level with Kreacher.

“Listen, I don't know how wizards do this. You should probably tell the Ministry of Magic. Can you help me? Also, maybe you could find me a carpenter?”

Kreacher looked bewildered.

“Maybe it’s not called that in the magical world, but I need someone to fix the house. Let me know when they can meet me—but breakfast and clothes first.”

Kreacher nodded but said nothing. He apparated away to fulfil Harry’s wishes.

Harry hurried into the bathroom. When he was done showering, he found a set of fresh clothes waiting for him next to his toiletries. Harry smiled—grateful to have Kreacher. He put on the fresh clothes. The clothes he had worn yesterday were full of holes and torn. He vanished them.

When he unscrewed his deodorant, he held it under his nose and enjoyed the fragrance for a moment too long, for no other reason than because he could. He finally had time to enjoy the little things in life.

When he came back to his bed, there was a lovely breakfast tray sitting on his nightstand.

Kreacher had left him a lovely traditional English breakfast and pomegranate juice, which he enjoyed immensely. He felt lighter than he’d felt in a long time. Voldemort was gone for good. He hoped to live the rest of his life in peace.

“Time to start the new day!” Harry said to his reflection in the mirror after brushing his teeth fifteen minutes later.

Harry wasn’t sure what he would find when he came down to the Gryffindor common room. The room seemed empty, and he took a few steps towards the exit, thinking he wanted to go outside. His friends were probably down by the lake. Maybe she was with Ron and Hermione, or maybe she had gone home with her family.

“Harry?” Her voice came from one of the comfortable chairs near the fireplace.

Surprised that he'd not seen her, Harry felt a jolt in his heart and rushed over to her.

She was stunning. She was even more beautiful than he had remembered from his dreams. Ginny had some marks from the fight on her face, but when she tilted her head and smiled, his body felt like jelly. Before he knew it, he was kneeling in front of her.

“Hi dear.” His green eyes met hers. In that moment, all the fear, struggle and hardship they had endured felt entirely worthwhile. The most important thing for him was that she was still perfect.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about you,” Harry said quietly. “It’s been a lonely year, even if I had Hermione and Ron—most of the time—but some nights, in the tent, I thought about the birthday gift that Ron interrupted… and I missed you so much.” Harry rambled. He had no idea why he said all this—the words just spilled out of his mouth.

She looked at him, her expression a mixture of admiration and humour.

Harry lifted his right hand to her chin. “May I?” He leaned forward, looked at her lips, and then back into her brown eyes to see if she still wanted him.

She leaned forward slightly, so gently that he could almost have imagined it, but it was enough. Harry interpreted the movement as a yes.

At first, he kissed her gently, as if testing whether the moment was real. When she responded to the kiss, something in his chest released, and he let the kiss deepen.

He needed to be closer to her, leaned forward and placed one hand on the armrest, the other in her soft, flaming hair. His fingers remained there, as if he were afraid she would disappear. The scent of flowers from her shampoo filled him, made him dizzy, and for a moment nothing else existed but Ginny.

This was perfect. She was perfect.

When they pulled apart, Harry was breathless but blissfully happy. This was the best day of his life: Voldemort was dead, he was alive, and Ginny still loved him.

💖💖💖

The end, or...