A new begining - 3

"I'll walk you out," Ron said, standing to accompany her.

Harry silently watched them go while Ginny hovered over him, adjusting his pillow and needlessly straightening the bed linens. He enjoyed the attention, and a small smile flitted across his face while he watched her do it.

"All right, Harry?" she finally asked, raising her eyes. A light pink blush stained her cheeks. She knew he'd been watching her.

"Better now," he whispered. "Glad you're here."

"I'm glad I'm here, too. You really scared me," she said, her eyes filling. She resolutely blinked back the tears.

"Sorry," Harry said, alarmed.

Ginny shook her head, straightening her shoulders and adopting a fierce expression. "I'll let you get away with it this time, but I'm warning you – you've had your last free pass. From now on, I never want to sit by another hospital bed waiting for you to wake up. I mean it. Not so much as a sprained toe."

Harry felt the corner of his mouth twitch. "Yes, ma'am."

"No more Dark Lords, Death Eaters, Dementors, dragons, Horcruxes, potions, prophecies…" Ginny said, running out of words.

"All right, all right," Harry replied, chuckling. "I'll do nothing but listen to Quidditch on the wireless and drink butterbeer until my belly grows big."

Ginny scowled, crinkling her nose. "Well, I wouldn't like that, either."

Harry grinned, feeling winded from his long speech. "I love you," he blurted.

Ginny's eyes softened. "I love you, too."

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. "It feels good to be able to say that without worrying."

Ginny brushed the hair off his forehead. "You feel warm," she said, sniffling.

"Did I make you cry again?" he asked, groaning.

"Who's crying?" Ron asked, re-entering the room. "Did you make my sister cry, Potter?"

"Seems I've made it a bad habit," Harry replied, his eyes beginning to droop.

"That's something that's going to have to change then, isn't it?" Ron asked, grinning to soften his words. "Now that Voldemort's no longer around to make your life hell, you'll only have to deal with me."

"Seems like a bargain," Harry said, smiling weakly. "It's hard to believe it's really over."

"Dad said you might need some time to adjust to it all," Ginny said.

"Yeah," added Ron. "Just think, next year at this time, no one should try to kill you."

Harry snorted, his eyes drifting shut. Ron and Ginny stayed and chatted with him for a while, filling him in on all the details he'd missed. He felt very guilty about worrying so much about his arm after hearing about George's leg and how well he was handling it. He hoped that he'd have the same courage as George to face it if he never regained the use of his arm.

He drifted off to sleep at some point, secure in the knowledge that Ginny, Ron, Hermione, or somebody, would be there when he awoke.

*~*~*

Over the next several days, Harry was able to stay awake for longer and longer stretches, enabling him to get a better grasp on what was happening in the Wizarding world. He also became aware of the media's increasingly desperate attempts to gain access to his room. The Healers, medi-witches, and various visitors continued to keep a close eye on him as he suffered from the nausea and fevers caused by the antidote they had given him. In short, between his injuries, the side effects, and everyone's fretting – Harry was feeling extremely confined.

Leticia Warbanks had been appointed as the Reconstruction Minister. The Wizengamot had decided that after she'd had the chance to get things up and running smoothly, there would be a general vote to decide if she would become Minister for Magic. Harry was pleased to see the sweeping changes she was attempting to put in place already.