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SIYE Time:12:45 on 29th March 2024
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Need
By iluvfanfics

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Fluff, General, Romance
Warnings: Extreme Language, Sexual Situations
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 725
Summary: Their nightmares and demons bound them together. Their love helped them to survive. Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley knew they needed each other; the trouble was in admitting it.
Hitcount: Story Total: 276999; Chapter Total: 14458
Awards: View Trophy Room






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Chapter 28

Harry awoke slowly, his brain registering his surroundings as his senses returned to him one by one. He was lying on his back on a mattress with crisp white linens that had a medicinal smell. If he hadn’t felt like his mouth was glued shut, he would have groaned. Judging from the familiar feeling, he was pretty certain he was back in the Hogwarts hospital wing.

Someone — he couldn’t tell who — stuck a straw in his mouth, and he gulped cool, refreshing water down greedily.

“Thanks,” he croaked, lying back down on his pillows.

The same someone handed him his glasses, and Harry lifted heavy arms to place them on his face. He blinked twice and was only half-surprised to see Albus Dumbledore sitting beside him.

His professor looked a little worse for wear. His usually fine robes were covered in dirt, dust and spell burns. Half of his long, white snowy beard had been singed off and there were small cuts on his hands and face.

There were many questions that Harry wanted to ask. But his mind settled quickly only on one question. He had his own ideas about what had happened after he’d killed Voldemort, and he could examine them later. His body ached and trembled with some previous trauma, but he was truly concerned with only one thing.

“Ginny?”

”She will be just fine,” Dumbledore assured him. “She’s lying just over there.” He indicated with his head, and Harry followed his gaze to the bed directly next to him. Ginny was lying peacefully, her hands folded neatly on top of the bedclothes. It looked an unnatural pose for her to be sleeping in. Normally, she flung arms and legs all over the mattress.

“Mrs. Weasley wasn’t sure it was proper for her only daughter to be lying in bed so nearby to her boyfriend.” The professor’s eyes twinkled. “But I convinced her that the two of you would recover faster if you were close together. I expect she’ll wake up any moment now.”

“What about Hermione? Nagini-”

“Hermione will be fine as well. Ron got her to St. Mungo’s just in time. The wound wasn’t very deep, and thanks to a similar bite on Arthur Weasley two years ago, they knew exactly how to treat her.”

Harry let out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding.

The Headmaster sat back in his chair beside Harry’s bed with his own relieved sigh. “I am happy you are finally awake, Harry.”

“How long have I been out?” It was an effort to talk, but Harry wanted to stay awake as long as possible to see if Ginny would wake up.

“Two days,” Dumbledore said gravely. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Pain,” Harry said grimly. “Wrenching pain. It was the part of me that’s Voldemort, wasn’t it? When he died…when I killed him…that part of him inside of me died as well, didn’t it?”

”I believe so. I also believe the same thing happened to Ginny. The connection you both shared with Tom Riddle was more symbiotic than we all realized. I wish I could tell you more about how your connection with him worked.” He winked at Harry. “Unfortunately, there are things in this world that even I do not understand.”

Dumbledore grasped Harry’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “Thank you, Harry. Thank you for getting rid of him. The world owes you a great debt.”

“I just want to sleep,” Harry said frankly. “And to be left alone with Ginny. And Ron and Hermione,” he added as an afterthought.

If it was possible for Dumbledore’s eyes to twinkle any more, Harry thought they might explode into a million tiny fireworks.

“The love you two share…it is inspirational,” he said, smiling down at Harry. “It’s what killed him, in the end. The one power he knew not, I believe.”

Harry nodded. “I - I used a Patronus, Professor. But honestly, I don’t have the slightest clue how it worked. I just...knew...somehow that it would. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. The Patronus — it was gold. I was thinking of Ginny at the time.” Harry knew he wasn’t doing a very good job of explaining how he’d managed to defeat the most evil wizard the world had ever seen, but he wasn’t quite sure what had happened and even less sure how to explain it.

Dumbledore nodded. “I wondered. Perhaps you will be good enough to give me your memory of the event for my Pensieve at a later date.” He took a deep breath and stood up.

“The entire wizarding world is clamouring for your attention, but we’ve put them all off. Hogwarts does not appreciate reporters trying to sneak in. I’m afraid Ms. Skeeter has not been seen for some time after she tried to sneak in through the tunnel underneath the Whomping Willow.”

Harry could only feel gratitude at this piece of information.

“But the Weasleys and Ms. Granger have been waiting rather impatiently for you to wake up,” he continued. “So if you are feeling up to a few visitors?”

Harry nodded, relieved to hear that they were all okay.

“Professor,” he put out a hand to stop the Headmaster from leaving. “Who didn’t make it back?”

Dumbledore’s face became solemn. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes.” He had to know.

Dumbledore sat back down and began a recitation of names that was entirely too long in Harry’s opinion. The Order had taken heavy hits, including Mad-Eye Moody, Hestia Jones and Mundungus Fletcher. Apparently the word of the impending confrontation had spread that night and several other witches and wizards had Apparated to the Riddle house after the wards had come down to help in the fight. Harry was shocked to learn that Oliver Wood and Alicia Spinnet had both perished and that Cornelius Fudge had died.

“And…Severus Snape.”

Harry looked up at Dumbledore in alarm. “Snape? Professor Snape?”

Dumbledore nodded, his face shadowed in grief. “He - he jumped in front of a curse meant for me. It was a ridiculously brave thing to do.” He swallowed heavily. “And completely unnecessary. There was no need -”

“Professor,” Harry interrupted. “I’m sure he did it because he felt…well, he respected you.” Harry didn’t want to say what he really meant; he figured Snape would not have appreciated such a sentiment. But it was obvious that Snape held allegiance to only one person – Albus Dumbledore.

Dumbledore nodded and busied himself with smoothing the front of his robes. “Yes, well…shall I let the family in?” He stood up again, and folded his hands in his sleeves.

“We’ve been busy tracking down the remaining Death Eaters,” he told Harry. “We’ve got most of them. The ones that ran were panicked and very easy to find. Ron Weasley brought in Draco Malfoy.” Dumbledore smiled in spite of the gravity of the previous conversation. “He seemed to take an intense pleasure in it.”

Harry grinned. He was glad Ron had a chance to take the bugger out. Dumbledore crossed the room and opened the door. Harry heard him speak quietly and low murmurs answer him.

Before too long, Mrs. Weasley swept in and crossed quickly to his bedside where she enfolded him in a massive hug. The rest of the Weasleys joined her and crowded around his bedside, talking excitedly until Harry was no longer certain that his headache was leftover from his battle with Voldemort.

It was when Ron was recounting his battle with Draco Malfoy that Ginny finally awoke. Unlike Harry, she didn’t wake up slowly; they suddenly heard a loud sob, and Ginny sat straight up in her bed, gasping Harry’s name.

“I’m here,” Harry said, relieved she’d finally woken up. “Ginny, I’m fine. You’re fine.”

Every bone in his body ached to go to her as he watched Madame Pomfrey rush to her bedside and wave her wand over her head and right knee, which apparently she’d twisted when Voldemort had thrown her against the wall. Once Pomfrey had pronounced her healed, the Weasleys rushed to fuss over their daughter and sister. Ginny lay weakly on her bed as she let them hover over her, but her eyes kept straying to Harry’s.

“Harry Potter loves Ginny Weasley,” he mouthed when he’d caught her eye.

She smiled at him, and he could see the beginnings of the tears in her eyes. He watched as she struggled to rein them in. Harry knew she wouldn’t want her family to see her cry. He suddenly felt irritated, and wished they would all go away and leave them in peace. He needed to be alone with Ginny, to hold her, to be inside her – the only place he’d ever felt at home.

It was dark before Professor Dumbledore came back and noticed the pleading and near-panicked expression on Harry’s face. Harry was grateful that his professor understood immediately what needed to be done as he quickly ushered the Weasleys and Hermione out of the hospital wing.

“Harry and Ginny need their rest,” he informed them. “You can come back tomorrow.”

Mrs. Weasley kissed Harry’s forehead one last time, and Hermione hugged Ginny a little too hard in her eagerness, but then they were alone and it was blissful peace. Ginny collapsed back on her bed in weariness and closed her eyes.

“I love them, but I thought they’d never leave,” she moaned.

“Me too.” Harry swivelled his head on his pillow to look at her. “You okay?”

Ginny bit her lip and nodded slowly, but Harry saw the tears welling up again. Shocked that Ginny would allow herself to cry, Harry forced himself to shaky legs and talked his muscles into moving the few feet to her bed. He sat on the edge of her mattress and gathered her to him. He placed her head on his shoulder and cradled her while she let loose with loud, wracking sobs. He felt her hot tears wetting his hospital gown, and he pressed back, pushing her over on the mattress so he could stretch out beside her.

Harry didn’t know how long he held Ginny while she cried; he suspected it was the first good cry she’d had since he’d rescued her in the Chamber of Secrets. Her sobs eventually slowed until she was sniffling with only the occasional tremor.

“I thought you were dead,” he whispered, hugging her tighter. “When that curse hit you, and you fell…fuck, Ginny…I was dead.”

“I know you did,” she said, sniffling. “I was knocked out for a little bit. I think he wanted to separate us by making one of us think the other was dead.”

“It doesn’t matter now, he’s gone and we’re never going to have to put up with him again.”

”It’s hard to believe,” she said, a note of wonder creeping into her voice. She lifted her head from his shoulder and gazed at him. “And we’re both alive. Harry, I wasn’t sure that would happen.”

“Just as a reminder, you promised to marry me, you can’t take it back.”

“I wasn’t going to,” she said, sounding offended. “But I insist upon hyphenating my name.”

“As long as there is a Potter in there somewhere you can call yourself whatever you want.”

“And no babies.”

Harry’s hands that had been tracing circles on her back stilled. “Not ever?” He’d be lying if he said his entire being didn’t warm at the thought of the babies they would make together. Little girls with bright red hair and green eyes with tempers to match their mum.

“Well…no, not ever, but not for a long time. I’m too young to be saddled down with a child. And I don’t know the first thing about babies. The very idea scares me to death.”

Harry, who knew when to keep his mouth shut, decided this was probably not the best time to tell her he wanted a whole houseful of children. He could work her into the idea of having children.

“Fine. No children right away. It’s settled then? Should I go get Dumbledore to officiate? We can do it right here.”

Ginny laughed and snuggled her face back into his neck. “I think we can wait until I turn seventeen. It’s only a few months away.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “But let’s not tell anyone okay? I can’t take all the attention.”

Ginny agreed quickly, and then said, “Hey, aren’t I supposed to get a ring?”

Harry flushed. “Actually, I do have one for you. It’s in my room though. You’ll have to wait a little longer I’m afraid.” He’d picked the ring up ages ago on a trip to Hogsmeade. It had been a whim – the idea of proposing had been swirling in his head for weeks and when he’d seen the simple emerald ring in the window of the jewellers, he couldn’t resist.

“I should have never said yes without getting the ring first,” Ginny grumped. “Stupid.”

It was Harry’s turn to laugh. They lay in a comfortable silence, holding each other until Madam Pomfrey turned out the lights, and they heard a soft click as she retired to her rooms for the night.

As soon as he was sure Madam Pomfrey wasn’t coming back, Harry turned on his side to face Ginny.

“I am so proud of you,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the lines of his face. “I knew you could do it.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you,” he said honestly. “Voldemort was rather stupid in the end. If he hadn’t shot that curse at you, I would never have gotten angry enough to kill him. As soon as I realized you were alive, I knew I could do it. It’s sort of his fault really.”

“He was remarkably narrow-sighted,” Ginny said. “He never took into account the things he didn’t understand. Like love. Your love for me. Your mother’s love for you. Our love for each other.” She kissed him lightly and then pulled back.

“The pain,” she said suddenly. “Why did it hurt so much, when you killed him? I thought I was being ripped in half.”

“Dumbledore reckons it was the connection we shared with him. It’s gone now that he’s dead. I can feel it, almost as if there’s an empty spot inside of me. It’s…weird.”

Ginny closed her eyes for a moment and then nodded. “He is gone. Merlin, what a relief. Guess I’ll have to get used to that.” She shivered. “Although every time I hear a whisper on the wind, I’m going to think its Tom again.”

Harry hugged her again and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’ll be there.”

“I know,” she smiled at him. “You always are.”

“We’ve come quite a long way, haven’t we?”

She nodded. “But it didn’t start getting really good until we started sleeping together.”

Harry agreed wholeheartedly, but instead he said, “There were some good times before that.”

“Yeah.”

Harry couldn’t stop himself from leaning a few inches and covering her mouth with his. He’d been holding himself in check since she woke up. He was just so glad she was alive, he wanted to feel her, to touch her, to know that she lived.

The kiss quickly escalated into something deeper. Her hands fisted in his hair. Harry pressed harder, sweeping his tongue inside her mouth anxious to brand her, to get the taste of her back on his lips.

Harry ignored his aches and pains – and completely forgot about hers – when he propped himself up on one elbow, cradling her head in the palm of his hand. His other hand roamed freely, tugging back the sheet that covered her and caught her behind her knee. It travelled slowly up her thigh, taking the hospital gown with it.

“No!” Ginny wrenched her mouth from his. “Harry, we can’t! Not here. Madam Pomfrey is just in the other room!”

“Ginny,” Harry panted and rested his forehead on hers. “You don’t get it, do you? I thought you were dead! I thought I had died with you! Do you have any idea how that made me feel? I was so scared -” He broke off to press urgent kisses down the side of her face. “Kiss me back, Ginny. Bloody hell, show me you’re alive.”

It took Ginny all of two seconds to make up her mind. Her entire body felt like it had been broken and then put back together, but she couldn’t and wouldn’t ignore the urgency in Harry’s voice. She pushed him onto his back and moved to straddle him, whipping the hospital gown off once she settled on top. She leaned down to kiss him and lifted her hips slightly so she could work his gown off. Soon they were both naked and as she traced patterns on his chest with her tongue, Ginny could see the strain on his face from holding back.

Show me you’re alive, he’d said. Details of what had happened that night were coming back to her in flashes and Ginny felt a surge of Harry’s same urgency every time she remembered what they had faced. They were alive, dammit – she’d already spent a good twenty minutes crying in relief over it. And she hated crying. It ticked her off and made her stomach feel weird. Better shagging than crying any day.

Harry held onto a large handful of memories from the days that followed the death of Voldemort. The way the Weasley family treated him like their own, the way Ron had clung to him in a moment of relief that he was alive, the way Dumbledore had said he was proud of him, the way Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown got rid of Rita Skeeter in a most ingenious fashion; the standing ovation the remaining Hogwarts students had given him, Ron, Hermione and Ginny; and the biggest, knock-down, drag-out, lasted-three-days party thrown by Fred and George that Hogwarts had ever seen. But his favourite, his absolute favourite, was that first night after he’d awoken in the hospital wing. In the days that followed, every time he closed his eyes,he could recall with startling clarity a naked Ginny astride him, her head thrown back, her long red hair tickling the tops of his thighs. The moonlight shone through the windows highlighting her navel and narrow waist. For Harry, it was the sweetest memory ever.

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