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Category: Post-DH/AB, Post-DH/PM Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Angst, Drama, Fluff, Romance Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 11 Summary: Two chapters of Harry and Ginny's reunion after the Battle of Hogwarts. Hitcount: Story Total: 7277; Chapter Total: 2916 Author's Notes: So this started out as a wee 1.5-page ditty, and then Elle read it and encouraged me to flesh out one particular spot....and now we have this little monster. |
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Ginny is watching Harry sleep. It isn’t creepy; she had just been asleep a few minutes ago, but now she isn’t, so she is watching him sleep. The dormitory is quiet, though bright sunlight is shining in through the windows. The room is deserted, and even as Ginny’s stomach growls, she wants only to lie here in Harry’s bed and watch him sleep. The expression “sleeps like the dead” comes to mind, but since Ginny had, just yesterday, seen Harry actually dead, or apparently dead, she pushes the phrase from her mind. That had been perhaps the worst moment yesterday, seeing Harry in Hagrid’s arms. Well, the worst moment besides going into the Great Hall and finding her family gathered around Fred’s body. Seeing her brother dead, seeing his twin retch in agony... that was the worst part of yesterday. At least Harry had come back to life, back to her. She shifts restlessly, forcing her mind away from Fred and back to Harry. Harry, the Chosen One, defeater of Lord Voldemort. He is all those things, true, but also he is just Harry. Harry, the boy she hero-worshipped as a child. Harry who had become her friend over the years, her instructor in the D.A., her Quidditch team-mate and captain. Harry who kissed her in the common room. Harry who broke up with her in order to keep them both safe while he saved the wizarding world. Harry who is now awake. Harry blinks blearily at her, as if he can’t quite figure out what she’s doing in his bed. He reaches blindly for his glasses, his hand fumbling just a bit over the bedside table. She watches silently as he puts them on, then he turns back to her, shifting onto his side so he faces her. She twists to her side as well; their heads are inches apart on Harry’s pillow. “You really are here. Last night wasn’t a dream,” he whispers hoarsely. “I was worried that I’d dreamed you up or something. Although I didn’t really dream anything, once I fell asleep.” His hand twitches towards her, like he wants to touch her but is holding himself back. She notices this but doesn’t comment, choosing instead to raise an eyebrow at him. “I don’t blame you, Harry. You looked like you haven’t had a good night’s sleep in, well, a long time.” She inches closer until their knees are touching, and Ginny hears Harry suck in a quick breath. “I haven’t,” he agrees, eyes still on her face. “But I still dreamed about you. And I worried last night was a dream. But it wasn’t, was it? Or am I dreaming now?” His voice is still scratchy from sleep, but his eyes look serious behind his glasses. In so many words, he’s asking if he had dreamed up their brief conversation and kisses last night, and with a start, Ginny realizes that despite their talk last night, Harry still isn’t convinced that she wants him back. Ginny raises a hand to trace over Harry’s face, gently touching his cheek, his brow, the scar on his forehead. His breath is warm on her arm. “It feels a bit like a dream, doesn’t it,” she whispers. Harry says nothing; he just watches her. “Harry,” she murmurs as she moves to brush her fingers through his hair, “it wasn’t a dream. You really did defeat Riddle, it really is over, and I really did crawl into your bed last night.” She smirks at that last bit, at how bold she sounds, and she lowers her hand from his hair to rest on his shoulder. Harry’s eyes relax, but he doesn’t smile yet. He wants to be sure, to be confident that they understand each other, so he asks her, uncertain, “So… are we back together? I know I hurt you when we broke u-” Ginny interrupts him to correct, “When you broke up with me ,” and Harry gulps. “Right. When I broke up with you. Which I did to protect you, and--” he holds up a hand so Ginny won’t cut him off again “-which was more about me protecting myself, since I know you don’t need protection,” he finishes. He drops his hand between them, and his fingers play with the hem of the blanket. Ginny nods approvingly at him. Clearly, he was paying attention in the Room of Requirement that day. He goes on, “But are we together again? Are we...us?” Ginny sighs and rolls away from him to lie on her back. Harry watches her nervously, already missing her touch on his shoulder. She stares at the canopy hanging over them, and Harry feels his stomach turn into a tight knot. “After Dumbledore’s funeral, after you broke up with me, I was mad at you, you know,” she said conversationally, as if she wasn’t confessing a truth to him. “I was furious. I mean, I was expecting you to break up with me so you could go save the world; I wasn’t surprised when you did, because you were never going to not defeat Voldemort. But I was angry that you felt you had to break it off, that I couldn’t be a part of that.” She takes a deep breath before continuing. “I was angry when you left after Bill and Fleur’s wedding. It was somewhat selfish - I wanted to say a real goodbye, but then I talked with...with the twins, and they helped me understand a couple of things. First, as much as I wanted to go with you and be a part of the fight, I would be a liability because I’m underage. And secondly,” she pauses and licks her lips, “I realized I was not actually angry at you but at Voldemort. I didn’t want you to break up with me, but Voldemort kind of forced you. I was mad at him for taking you away from me, because when we were together... Merlin, Harry, I loved being with you. I felt - I feel - like I just threw the Quaffle through the hoop, and I wanted that back. I want you back.” “You…. you want me back?” Harry's voice is shocked, skeptical. Despite Ginny’s speech, he remains unconvinced. “Harry,” Ginny says slowly, and his heart drops. “Harry, where am I?” “Huh?” This is not what he expected. “Where am I right now, Harry?” Her voice is patient but her eyes do not leave the ceiling. “Er, you’re at Hogwarts,” he tries, bewildered. “Where in Hogwarts?” There is a smile in her voice, but he is too distracted by her questions to notice. “In Gryffindor Tower?” Where is she going with this, he wonders. “Can you be more specific?” She finally turns her head to look at him, and he can see that she is enjoying his confusion. He swallows as she turns to face him, and it begins to sink in. “Ah, you’re in the boys’ dormitory. In the Seventh Year Boys’ dormitory.” Ginny grins at him and scoots close. Her elbow bumps him. “Can you be just a little more specific?” The expression on her face and the closeness of her body make comprehension a challenge, but Harry forces himself to concentrate. Ginny may joke around him, may taunt him a bit, but she is not a tease. “M-mm... more specific?” he manages, distracted by her breath on his face... and by her foot nudging its way between his legs. Ginny’s expression is smug as she slips one arm around Harry’s waist; he immediately, almost unconsciously reciprocates. “Harry, I am here, in bed. In your bed. With you. Remember last night? I came up here, joined you in this bed, cried against your shirt, and fell asleep in your arms. Also I just told you that I was mad at Voldemort for breaking us up and that I want you. If that doesn’t mean that I want to get back together, I don’t know what does.” Harry sputters, “Er, ah,” and coughs. “Really? You want me back, even though I dumped you?” “Really, Harry,” her smile is gentle now, “I knew last year when you broke up with me that it was just for show, just for, ahem , protection. I figured that if you really meant to break up with me, you would have been a bit more surprised when I showed up here last night.” She grins and rolls her eyes exaggeratedly as Harry lets out the breath he was holding. The knot in his stomach is gone, replaced by thrills of exhilaration. He grins widely and suddenly pulls Ginny against him; she lets out a little yelp of surprise, but then settles and snuggles in close, beaming at him. Harry just looks at her, drinking her in. Her face is still dirty, and her hair is truly a mess, and Harry finds that he could stare at her forever. She is smiling at him with a brightness that could rival a patronus, and Harry cannot help tugging her and rolling so that she is lying on top of him. His hands slide to the curve of her back, and she rests her elbows on either side of him and props herself up to look at him. “Ginny,” he whispers. “Harry,” she whispers back, still smiling. “Even though you are here, in my bed, er,” he blushes a little, and she helps him, a wicked glint in her eyes, “Wrapped in your arms, lying on top of you?” She sighs dramatically, “are you still not convinced?” He grins. “How else can you manage to convince me, Gin-” Ginny’s lips are on his before he can finish, and as one of her hands slide into his hair, Harry thinks that he will have to ask for “convincing” several more times. |
| Reviews 11 |
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