From the moment Ginny willingly went into his arms, Harry was lost to the rest of the world. He didn't have the presence of mind to reply to her quiet words; for now, he just wanted to hold her. Something in him said this might be a rare thing going forward, that events were again spiralling out of control. He simply stood there, breathing in the scent of her that never seemed to change, resting his cheek against the red hair that never seemed to fade. I've missed you, too, he wanted to whisper but his throat was too tight.
It was the undeniable sound of a cleared throat that brought him back to reality, but he didn't have the grace to be embarrassed as he lifted his head to see Albus. After all, as far as Harry was concerned, Ginny was and had been his wife for years. He would never be chastised at being caught in an embrace with her.
Except none of this was exactly right. Very reluctantly, he released her, although he kept his hand on her shoulder, sliding it down to capture her hand. He was afraid if he let go, she'd disappear in this strange place, never to return. With a smile to his teasing son, he replied, "If I want to snog your mother, I will, whereever we might be, and your brother will survive."