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SIYE Time:10:41 on 28th March 2024
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It’s No Surprise
By LadyTory

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Category: Post-HBP
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Angst
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 12
Summary: And then it was just the bitter sulfur of ashes in her mouth, replacing the hint of treacle tart, the taste of chocolate frogs.
Hitcount: Story Total: 5441



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
Written for deena_s on Live Journal. Many thanks to LadyTonks for her beta work.




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And then it was just the bitter sulfur of ashes in her mouth, replacing the hint of treacle tart, the taste of chocolate frogs. It had choked up from deep within her, drying her mouth as she watched him go. And in that moment she did not cry, because somehow it was right for him to walk away. It was not a surprise. And she knew that there would be no argument. That moment was so different from the time before when he had tried to leave her behind. Instead of joining him in friendship, she would have to stay and allow him to walk away, holding her heart.

~*~

She had seen the way he had been looking at her. No one has that many Bludger accidents. There were sparks of something within her then. The fire of hope? She was not sure. But it was a warm and delightful feeling. It licked at her heart and if she had dared in those moments it would have fed her soul. No, that particular deliciousness would come in later weeks.

It came, really, when she least expected it. She meant only to congratulate him, to hug him as she had her other teammates. Well, maybe not exactly as she had hugged her other teammates, but she had been leaving that up to Harry. And he had delivered. She had been hoping for possibly a kiss on the cheek, or maybe that his hand would slide down her arm and then she would feel his fingers lace with hers.

She had not expected him to plant his lips soundly over hers in front of her brother and seven years worth of Gryffindors. But he had and who was she to deny him?

It was then, as his mouth met hers that the tiny flame of hope exploded in her chest. There could have been fire flowing through her long hair and Ginny would not have been surprised. That was what she felt: as if her whole being were on fire, as if her heart had wings. Harry Potter had brought something to life within her, a feeling that Michael and Dean had never even come close to. And she knew that it was because it was Harry and that this was right and how it should be. And for those few precious weeks, in the stolen moments that they were given, she allowed it to consume her.

~*~

When Ginny attempted to Bat Bogey Hex Pansy Parkinson outside of the Great Hall (they had become perfect targets for each others anger, loneliness, and rage) and it seemed more like a Fly Bogey Hex if anything, Ginny was not surprised. She had after all watched Tonks with mousey brown hair and her normal nose for the largest part of the year before. And it was not shocking that she knew in that moment, thanks to Malfoy’s blithering idiot of a girlfriend, that she did not just fancy Harry Potter. Ginny loved him, and the taste of ash was again in her throat.

She choked down her lunch and tasted nothing of her food as whispers and gazes washed over her from her remaining schoolmates. She heard the words ‘lost her touch,’ and tried not to gag. Yes, she had lost her ‘touch,’ because she had lost her heart. It was out there somewhere with Harry as he met with Order members, plotted against Voldemort, hid from Death Eaters and dodged curses. And she might never get it back.

~*~

Christmas holidays brought little relief from her aching emptiness, and no relief from the war. Out on Order business, her parents had left Ginny in the care of Fred and George. She and George had been walking quickly back to the shop after a short visit to the one apothecary that was still open when it happened. She had known that Harry leaving would not make her less of a target than before. It was not a surprise. She was still a Weasley, a blood traitor and a child of the resistance after all.

And with the taste of smoke and dust in her mouth she had focused on long-gone feeling of flames filling her soul. Pulling joy back from the depths of her memory, she had conjured a Patronus to call Fred to their aid. He was there in an instant and the three Weasley children left two Death Eaters stunned and bound in the middle of Diagon Alley for the Aurors to collect.

It was only later, when they were safely ensconced at Order Headquarters, that Fred had a chance to fix her with a puzzled gaze. She averted her eyes and stared ahead into the flames of the fire. She was not ready to discuss this with Fred or George or any other member of the Order. Instead, Ginny silently sipped her tea with a taste of Ogden’s and hoped the firewhisky might some how ease the dry ache in her throat.

~*~

When Hogwarts did not reopen after Christmas, Ginny was not surprised. There had been more deaths and attacks, and her own parents admitted that they were going to keep her home regardless. But she was not even allowed to stay home. Headquarters were moved again to Number 12. And Ginny was back in her old room and back to being thrown out of the kitchen when meetings started. She was alone again with her anger and frustration, and no Slytherins in sight on which to vent her spleen.

It was not a surprise that Harry, Ron and Hermione would appear at irregular intervals. And it was expected that Harry would not meet her eyes. Meals were a tightrope of trying to appear normal, as if her tongue was not coated in the taste of blackened sulfur, as if there was still fire in her eyes and soul. It was not there, but it sat across the table from her, almost mocking her in its closeness.

Hermione did not seem surprised when Ginny finally told her, late one night as they readied for bed, about the attack at Diagon Alley. The other witch only nodded with a sad slow smile when Ginny said that her Patronus had changed. She told Hermione in the dark as they lay not sleeping, about the flames she had felt inside her, the ones that only Harry had been able to light. Ginny whispered how the fire had smoldered into ashes as he walked away from her at Dumbledore’s funeral; how the taste of soot and smoke was all that she had left. She told Hermione how her Bat Bogey Hexes now fell flat. She told her only friend what she had not spoken to anyone else about, what only Fred had seen: that a phoenix had erupted from her wand when Ginny had sent for help that day.

“You know what that means, Hermione.” Ginny spoke softly into the darkness, “I love him.”

“Fred told him about your phoenix. Harry knows, Ginny. He knows.” There was a heavy weight to the silence, Ginny tried to breathe slowly and licked her (always now) dry lips. She heard Hermione take a deep breath as well, before the other witch went on. “His Patronus has changed, too.”

There was a flicker of something within her. Ginny allowed herself to close her eyes and enjoy the single tongue of flame that seemed to circle her heart in the cold empty night.
Reviews 12
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