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Learning To Fly | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Drama, Romance Warnings: None Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 726 Summary: Harry is nearly broken by casual, well-meant cruelty. It isn't until he falls ill that he begins to find his way back home. Hitcount: Story Total: 41138; Chapter Total: 5107 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: Another adventure for me. This story is decidedly more fluffy than my last two stories. (I see that eye roll, Pooky!!) Thanks to my team of betas--UnrequitedDream who got the ball rolling after reading through my mess of notes and seeing something salvageable after all. Ella for poking and prodding until I wrote each and every chapter, and for doing the summary for me when I cried to her about it. And DebbieO who finds meaning in every sentence, and makes it all readable. You three rock!! Thanks also to the Silver Minxes & Friends who keep me smiling and wanting to write. Love you all. Let me know what you think. |
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Prologue: (takes place at the beginning of Harry’s 6th year) Harry sighed deeply and leaned back in the thick, tall grass of the orchard at the Burrow. It had been a good summer, despite the beginning. Losing Sirius was…well, Harry wasn’t sure there were words for what he felt. Numb was probably the most accurate word he could think of. But two weeks of feeling that way had put Harry in a unique position. He was determined that moving forward was his only option. Nothing would be gained, and certainly Sirius’ memory would never be honored by living in the past; caught up in ‘what if’. Professor Dumbledore’s arrival at the end of his second week at the Dursley’s had been Harry’s Liberation Day. He’d fought the urge to shout for joy when the aged Headmaster informed him that he would be going to the Burrow for the duration of the holiday. Days spent lounging in the sun, splashing in the pond and playing two-a-side Quidditch with Ron, Hermione and Ginny had done a lot to heal Harry’s wounded heart. Mrs. Weasley had been vigilant about filling his plate time after time and, for once, Harry was returning to Hogwarts without the pale, skinny look that he usually had. Ron and Hermione had finished their flying earlier, with Hermione complaining that they’d gone over the allotted time for Quidditch and now needed to balance it with more revising. Harry laughed at the two as they left the pitch bickering like an old married couple. Ginny said she wanted to fly a bit longer and Harry offered to stay with her, choosing to rest in the cool grass and watch once she began to fly. The warm, rich smell of the earth filled his senses and he had to squint to see Ginny in the air at all. Earlier, Harry had been amused by the makeshift hoop they’d constructed from an old apple bucket.. “It looks like a basketball hoop,” he commented. Harry forced himself not to laugh as Ron stood staring at the contraption, head cocked to the side. “You’re nutters,” Ron said shaking his head and moving off toward his broom. “Whatever basketball is…” The held back laugh broke out as Ron continued to mutter, even as he mounted his broom and inspected the hoop from the air. Ginny was thrilled to have a goal to shoot at. She’d spoken much of the time he’d been there about trying out for the team, even hinting playfully that she shouldn’t have to try out as Harry, named Captain already, had seen her play loads of times. Harry retaliated with his own teasing and the two had kept up the joke for most of their games. Ginny’s shadow crossed his eyes and Harry blinked as she zoomed past and shot the Quaffle perfectly into the hoop. “Weasley scores again!” Harry laughed at her cheer and watched her set up another run after retrieving the ball. She was really amazing, he mused. She made Quidditch look like a dance, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And it wasn’t only her athleticism that made him take notice. Ginny was extremely funny. She had a similar sense of humor to the Twins and lived to torment Ron. When they were together, Harry rarely found himself out of things to talk about with her; they shared so much in common. Realization began to set in as he watched her make a failed attempt at shifting the ball behind her to her other side. Her jaw was set stubbornly and she swooped to catch the ball before it hit the ground. She was quite attractive, he thought, with her hair looking like so much fire streaming behind. A once familiar swooping sensation settled in his stomach and he quickly looked away. He was falling for Ginny Weasley. Three days after his epiphany found Harry still in turmoil over what to do. They’d all return to Hogwarts in two days. Ginny had said on the train ride home last term that she’d chosen Dean Thomas. Harry wasn’t quite sure what that meant. Were Ginny and Dean dating? He’d not seen much evidence if so; no visits and no owls out of place. But then again, Ginny could be rather secretive. Did he chance alienating her by approaching her? He’d spent the whole next day after recognizing his feelings watching her closely. They’d spent much of the day together and she seemed interested in his presence. Or it appeared that way. She’d joked and laughed with him, even sharing an eye-roll or two when Ron and Hermione argued. Harry took it as a positive sign. The next day, Harry had tried an experiment. He’d purposefully stayed away from Ginny, while trying to make it seem that he was just occupied, not ignoring her. Ginny was still her jovial self, although she did disappear for the afternoon into her bedroom. By the end of that day, Harry was fairly certain that he needed to do something to act on his feelings. The desperation of not seeing Ginny, of not hearing her laugh at one of his lame jokes and not flying together, had worn his temper thin and he’d snapped several times at Hermione who’d been badgering him about his revision habits. The third day he’d allowed himself to be in Ginny’s company again, pretending as if nothing had happened the day before. And, despite a few odd glances from both Ginny and Hermione at his behavior, Harry tried to make it as normal a day as they’d had in the past. It was Ron who finally cornered him and demanded to know why he was acting so funny. “What’s with you, mate?” he’d demanded. “You’ve been acting odd…even for you.” Harry’s mind raced, trying to decide how much to admit to. Should he tell Ron the truth, that he was beginning to fancy Ginny, or should he deny everything and work it out all on his own? “Did Ginny do something to you?” Ron asked, his eyebrows raised. “Did she say something to upset you? Because if she did–“ “She didn’t do anything, Ron,” Harry defended. “It’s not her.” “Well, then why in the name of Merlin’s mangy pants are you hiding from her? And don’t deny it. Hermione said you spent all of yesterday ducking in and out of rooms every time Ginny came in.” Harry kept a small smile to himself. Maybe Ron wasn’t the one he should be worried about. “I…I just–“ Harry ruffled his hair. He weighed his options quickly. “It’s me,” he finally admitted. “When I’m around Ginny…I just get these…feelings.” Ron seemed puzzled for a moment, his face screwed up in concentration. “Feelings? Like what? It may be something that Gred and Forge have cooked up. Do you feel nauseous?” Harry sighed and flopped back on his bed. “Sort of.” “Harry, you’ve been around long enough to know not to trust anything–“ “They didn’t do anything, Ron,” Harry said softly. “It’s Ginny. When I’m around her…my stomach feels funny. And…I...” He sighed heavily and stared past Ron at a fading orange wall. “I think I fancy her, Ron.” He didn’t take a chance to look at his best friend, nervous as to what the reaction would be. “Oh.” “Yeah,” Harry replied in a quiet voice that may have not even reached the other side of the room. “So, I’ve been trying to figure it out.” “And what do you figure?” Harry flushed slightly as he finally looked up and saw the look Ron was giving him. Harry didn’t completely understand it. Ron was usually a very easy person to read because he showed his emotions very prominently. But his expression made Harry a bit wary. There seemed to be a bit of amusement, although it was small, and a cross between bewilderment and something much darker. “I don’t know,” Harry supplied. Ron nodded thoughtfully, then stood and left without another word, leaving Harry alone again, staring at orange walls. He still wasn’t sure what he should do. He finally decided, after watching Ginny torment Fred and George all the way through lunch, to talk to her that day or maybe the next morning. With that decision, Harry’s heart felt lighter, although his stomach felt jittery and ill-at-ease, especially when he noticed Ron watching him. A slightly punch-drunk feeling of euphoria surrounded Harry like a warm bubble throughout dinner. The Twins were in fine shape, teasing Ron and Hermione all through the meal. Even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had smiled and only scolded their sons slightly. Ginny had been in the middle of the whole scene, ignoring the looks that haughty Fleur had been sending her way all evening. The normality of the situation ought to have tipped Harry off, as nothing in his life could ever be called normal, but he chose to ignore any warning signs, letting the warmth of friends and family lull him into a pleasant mood. Hermione and Ginny struck up a conversation near the end of dinner and were still giggling and talking quietly at the far end of the table. Mrs. Weasley asked Harry and George to do the clean up and they had joked through it. The kitchen was empty when they finally finished and Harry was a bit disappointed, thinking that he’d possibly lost a chance at talking to Ginny. “Harry, the boys are outside, why don’t you come out also?” George asked. Harry felt an instant tightening in his stomach. Rarely did all of the four Weasley boys meet together. “What’s up?” Harry asked, even as he followed George outside and through the yard where the gnomes were sneaking back in through the low fence. “Nothing,” George shrugged, casually stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets. “Just thought we’d get away from all the female company for a bit.” Harry watched him closely as they walked toward Mr. Weasley’s shed. George’s smile seemed just a bit forced and his shoulders just a bit too tense for this to be a casual thing. Perplexed, Harry followed and then stopped dead upon coming to the group sitting on chairs on the far side of the shed. “Let me conjure you one, Harry,” Bill offered, swirling his wand until a straight-backed wooden chair stood before him. Harry’s eyes darted to where Ron was leaning back in his own chair against the rough wooden wall. Ron’s blue eyes met his for an instant before he flushed and quickly looked away. “Have a seat,” Bill offered and Harry scanned their faces once again before allowing himself to sink down onto the chair. “What’s going on?” he asked again. The quietness of the night pressed into his ears. Even the frogs that lived near the pond had stopped their croaking. Bill cleared his throat. “Harry, we all like you.” Fred and George both nodded fervently and Harry felt a nervous knot well up in his chest. “Mum thinks of you as one of her own.” Harry stayed silent as he waited for the man to say what he obviously needed to say. Bill sighed heavily and let his chair rest on all four legs before rubbing the back of his neck. “We’ve all seen the way you’ve been looking at Ginny this summer.” The tightness intensified in Harry’s chest and he rocked forward on the balls of his feet a bit, preparing to flee should they move to do him bodily harm. He was ready to deny it when Ron finally looked at him and he knew he’d been caught. “And?” he finally choked out. “And,” Bill sighed, “we don’t like it.” Harry wasn’t prepared for this. In his musings of himself and Ginny dating, he’d never even considered that her family wouldn’t approve. He’d always assumed that nothing would make them happier. His stomach rolled uncomfortably and he looked away off into the darkness of the trees. “We think you’d do better to find someone else,” Bill continued. “Ginny’s gotten over you, moved on. She’ll only get hurt if she’s with you, Harry.” Moisture gathered at the back of Harry’s eyes and he blinked hard to keep it away, instead letting burning anger and betrayal fill him. He stood abruptly, pushing his hands through his hair. These were supposed to be his friends, his family. “That’s how you all feel?” he managed to croak out. He lifted his eyes to see their responses. Bill nodded firmly. “It is.” Fred nodded jerkily and George only looked away, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his shirt. Ron didn’t meet Harry’s eyes for the longest time and Harry stood staring at his closest friend. “Ron?” “I think…” Ron’s voice broke and he tipped forward in his chair, slamming it back to earth. “I think it’s for the best.” His eyes were dark and unreadable when he finally met Harry’s gaze. Betrayal rose up like bile in Harry’s throat and he nodded jerkily, only managing to keep a handle on his anger. He stood there a moment longer before the reality of the situation hit him like a Bludger. His shoulders slumped and he crammed his fists into his jean pockets. They were right. He was Harry Potter, for Merlin’s sake. Ginny would be better off without him. She would be in danger if they were together. Without taking his eyes off his feet, Harry nodded jerkily. “Fine,” he whispered, before stalking off into the night. |
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