Search:

SIYE Time:9:30 on 28th March 2024
SIYE Login: no


All the Time in the World
By killtherat

- Text Size +

Category: Forty-Eight Hours Challenge (2010-2), Fourty-Eight Hours Challenge (2010-2)
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Drama, General, Romance
Warnings: Death, Mild Sexual Situations
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 11
Summary: *48 Hour Challenge*



There is so much to discuss, so much she deserves to know, but how can explain everything to her when he can't even explain it to himself?
Hitcount: Story Total: 4280



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.





ChapterPrinter


Despite the usual warmth of May, Hogwarts castle felt unnaturally cold as Harry Potter wandered the halls late at night. Two days had passed since the final battle that had led to the downfall of Lord Voldemort, but the aura of death still loomed throughout the school. It was a constant companion to those who remained there, reminding them of what had been lost.

Rubbing his arms to warm himself Harry scoffed as he sat down, leaning against the wall in the dark corridors. As if he needed to be reminded of what they had lost. The great ache he felt in his heart everyday was enough. He felt his throat constrict painfully as he remembered the agony that tore through him as he and Mr Weasley wrapped Remus’ body in a white sheet, laying him in a classroom beside his wife, along with the others who had not survived. He felt duty bound to carry out this task, as though he were punishing himself for the deaths of those he could not save. He had been unable to face Fred’s body.

Breathing in unsteadily Harry stood up and continued down the dark halls, slipping his shaking hands into his pockets. He wanted to stop thinking, to simply slip into a deep sleep and only awaken when everything had resolved itself. But as he had figured out in the last two days, all the sleep in the world would not ease the ache in his chest, nor would it chase away the feelings of utter helplessness. Despite all that he had accomplished, despite his future beyond Voldemort, he simply didn’t know what to do.

He wondered how on earth the Weasleys found the strength to carry on. They were preparing to go back to the Burrow that coming afternoon, and already they had made plans for Fred to be buried. His funeral was set for the following week.

Now thinking of the Weasleys, Harry felt the ache in his heart grow even stronger as he remembered Ginny, and how much he simply wanted to be with her. Just the two of them. But simply being together seemed like an impossible task. Between Kingsley’s struggle to begin reforming the Ministry of Magic, and those around him who had survived, Harry had hardly found two minutes of solitude, which is why he was wandering the castle in the dead of night. Despite being constantly surround by people, he had never felt so utterly alone in his entire life.

Carrying on through the halls, Harry eventually ventured into the grounds, the cool chill of the night biting at him. He turned back and looked toward the castle that he had called home for so long, satisfied to at least see the repairs were progressing nicely. He held his hands out in front of him, calloused and bloodied from manually shifting the broken rubble, results of the explosion that had taken Fred’s life. He had been too exhausted to use magic.

Clenching his hands in his hair, Harry let out a low and frustrated groan. He knew that he couldn’t go on like this anymore. He wanted to see Ginny, he needed to be with her more than anything else. There was so much he had to say, so much she deserved to hear, and the thought of being away from her any longer had become too much. He started up the stone steps into the Entrance Hall and proceeded through the castle with determination, knowing what he was going to do. In no time at all he reached the Fat Lady’s portrait, not needing to give the password as she immediately swung open to admit him inside Gryffindor Tower. Bypassing the stairs to the girls dormitory he climbed those to the seventh year boys, the dormitory he would have taken had he chosen to return to school. He could hear the snores of the Weasley men before he even opened the door, and he remained quiet as he searched the beds, looking for the balding head of hair he recognised.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently awoke Mr Weasley, quietly explaining what he needed. The man who was so like a father to him frowned at his request, considering it as he blearily rubbed his eyes, answering him groggily.

“There is no one I would trust more, Harry,” he answered. As he lay back down to sleep, Harry promised to keep him updated before he left the boys dorm, relieved that he had been granted permission. He would not have liked kidnapping Arthur Weasley’s daughter.

The stairs to the girls dormitory gave no indication that they would transform into the smooth slide that every Hogwarts boy despised, yet Harry still held onto the wall as he ascended, not completely trusting his luck. He found the door he was looking for and hesitantly opened it, feeling as though he were about to be scolded by McGonagall any moment. He fumbled through the sixth year girls dorm for a few moments, but hardly needed to light his wand to find the bed he was looking for. It was almost as if he was drawn to one particular, as though he had already known where she would be sleeping.

He gently drew back the curtains around her bed, the moonlight falling over her face as she slept beside her mother, their bed enlarged to accommodate them both. A slight frown played across her face, hardly the expression of serenity he wished he would see. He sat down on the very edge of the bed and stroked her brilliant red hair, gently rousing her from her sleep. Much in the same way her father had she looked at him blearily as he explained what he wanted, her face breaking into a relieved smile as she sat up. She too had been wishing for this as much as he had.

He helped her pack a few things from her trunk as she scrambled out of bed, making sure they didn’t awaken those around them. He slipped his hand into hers and made to leave, confused when she turned back at the last minute. Seeing that Mrs Weasley had awoken Harry followed Ginny back to the bed, listening as Ginny lied to her mother, telling her they were going for a walk. Mrs Weasley sat up and kissed her daughter on the cheek, ushering Harry over and doing the same to him. Looking at her in the moonlight, it was almost as though she saw straight through her daughters lie, knowing exactly what they were doing.

Hand in hand they left the castle, walking through the dark grounds when Kreacher appeared before them, pushing a bag of clothing and food into his masters arms. They were silent as they walked. No words were needed as they carried on through the grounds to the school gates. After the battle had ceased, Kingsley had hastily rushed to resecure the castle and it’s protection, and that included the anti-apparition charms. They eventually came to the gates, which opened as they drew near, and as Ginny tightly gripped his arm in readiness to apparate, Harry couldn’t help but question his choice of destination.

***

With a soft pop, Harry and Ginny appeared on the pavement of a Muggle street in Surrey, the darkness of the night concealing their sudden appearance out of thin air. Out of habit, they looked around to check that they had not been seen, before they resecured their bags over their shoulders and carried on hand in hand. Harry led the way, the whole time questioning his judgement and his sanity. Why would he choose here of all places? The place where he had known nothing other than neglect and loathing.

“Is this…” Ginny started, looking around the deserted Muggle street. “Is this where the Durselys lived?”

Harry took a deep breath. “Yeah, sorry it’s….I couldn’t think of anything else,” he stammered. “At least we’ll be alone.”

At these words Ginny stopped him in the middle of the street and slid her free arm around his neck, pulling his face towards her own. As she gently kissed him, Harry finally stopped thinking. His bag fell to the ground as he held her close, the sense of loss and helplessness he had been carrying slowly seemed to be draining away from him. He felt blissfully free as he kissed her back, as though he could do anything in the world. The anxiousness for her that had plagued him for months was finally gone. Any concerns that she wouldn’t be waiting for him at the end were put to rest.

As good things always did, their kiss came to an end, and he rested his forehead against hers. He could sense her smiling as he pulled away and picked up his bag, slipping their arms around each other’s waists before carrying on down the street, towards the quaint house marked number four.

To the average passerby, the house Harry had grown up in appeared just as those around it did, the neatly trimmed lawns giving away nothing to indicate that it had remained empty for almost a year. Only the nosiest of neighbours would be wondering what fate had befallen the happy little family that had lived there. Regardless of the glamour charms that had been cast over the residence, there were no charms cast in order to protect it. Harry rummaged through the garden beside the front door, and found the fake rock that concealed the spare key, opening the front door with a sense of trepidation.

His hand was naturally drawn to the light switch inside the door way, squinting slightly when the light bulb shone brightly, illuminating the small hallway. They walked through towards the kitchen and dining room, Ginny looking around and taking in Harry’s childhood home for the very first time. Dropping their bags in the kitchen Harry leant against the kitchen bench and looked at Ginny, all of a sudden unsure of what to say to her. His discomfort diminished as she continued looking around, wandering into the lounge room.

“So this is a Muggle telly,” he heard Ginny saying to herself. Smiling to himself Harry followed her into the lounge room, seeing her standing directly in front of the television, looking it over. She considered it for a few long moments, standing back a little with her hands on her hips. “You and Hermione are crazy, it’s really not that interesting.”

Harry couldn’t help himself, he laughed at her openly, ignoring the narrow eyed glare he received. His laughter was infectious, and she too was laughing after a few moments, looking back and forth between him and the television, as though trying to see exactly what it was that was so interesting. Their laughter soon died down, and he felt an unfamiliar sense of awkwardness now that they were finally together. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it, unsure of what to say. He was grateful when Ginny spoke first.

“How did you manage to get me away from my family? I’m surprised Dad gave you permission.”

“So was I, actually,” he confessed as she moved back towards him. “I promised we’d come back to the Burrow in forty-eight hours.”

She nodded as she slipped her arms around his waist, hugging him firmly as though she didn’t know what else to do. Harry wrapped his arms around her in return, squeezing her tightly before he gasped softly, pain shooting through his abdomen and back.

“What is it?” Ginny asked in concern, pulling away from him.

“Nothing,” he lied, gingerly touching the left hand side of his stomach.

Ignoring him Ginny lifted up the hem of his shirt before he could protest, pulling it up so that she could see what was causing his pain. Her eyes went wide as she saw the blackened bruise he bore, the injury extending up and past his ribs. “Is this…is this where-”

“Voldemort,” he replied quietly. He didn’t need to explain further, the mention of his name explained everything else.

Ginny’s face fell as she stared at his injury, her fingers tracing the swollen skin that was proof he had intended to give his life. “Why?” she began, faltering slightly. “Why would you do that?”

He turned his face away, unable to look her in the eye. “Ginny, I-”

“Why did you go to him? Were you giving up?”

“No,” he replied imperatively, forcing himself to look back. She had to understand. He had to help her understand what he had done, why he had laid down his life for everyone, for her. He thought hard, his mind replaying the conversation he had with Dumbledore, trying to make sense of everything that had been said, trying to put everything into words. “I had to, there was no other way.”

“I don’t believe that,” Ginny scoffed. “Surely there was another way.”

“There wasn’t,” Harry promised her hurriedly. “Dumbledore…he planned this from the beginning.”

“He planned your death?” she replied disbelievingly.

“Yes! He planned everything….” Harry trailed off, unable to say anything else. He looked away again as he felt himself beginning to crumble, no longer able to put up the façade that everything was okay. Seeing his pain, Ginny softened, furious with her harsh words of disbelief.

“Wait, I’m sorry.” She let go of his shirt and took his face in her hand, turning it back towards herself. Her hand lingered on his neck as she spoke. “I’m sorry, Harry.”

His heart sank as he saw the look on her face. She appeared utterly scared. More scared than she had looked when she fought against Bellatrix Lestrange. Thinking back to that night, he remembered just how close she had come to death. “Don’t be sorry,” he insisted, finding his voice again. “I have to tell you, you deserve to know. I just….don’t know where to start.”

“It’s okay.”

He was determined. He had to tell her everything. It was why he had taken her away from Hogwarts, so that they could be together for hours on end. The need to get everything off his chest was almost unbearable, he had kept everything inside for so long he just had to let it out. He was determined to tell her, but he couldn’t think. He couldn’t figure out how to start. “There’s just so much to say, so much to explain.”

“You don’t have to tell me right now,” Ginny added quietly, her free hand taking hold of his. “We’ve got all the time in the world, we’ve got our whole lives thanks to you.”

Harry nodded. Despite his determination to tell Ginny everything he felt utterly relieved, as though he had been let off the hook completely.

“We’ve got forty-eight hours, right?”

“Yeah.”

Ginny hesitated before she spoke again, considering her words carefully. “Let’s not talk,” she suggested, continuing when she saw Harry’s confused face. “Like I said, we’ve got our whole lives to talk. Let’s just be together, let’s just do something.”

“Like what?”

“Anything,” was her answer. “Let’s start now. What do you want to do?”

Harry breathed out slowly, her words evoking the feeling of exhaustion that he had been ignoring for hours on end. After the final battle he had slept for hours straight, recovering from all that he had done. Since then there had just been too much to do, too many people to see, too many of the dead that needed their attention. “I’m tired,” he muttered softly. He rested his forehead against hers, breathing in the flowery perfume that she never failed to wear. “I’m so tired.”

Nothing more needed to be said as they slumped onto the couch together, neither of them bothering to go upstairs. Harry’s entire body seemed to sigh with relief as he lay down on the couch, Ginny resting firmly in his embrace as he conjured a warm blanket to cover the both of them. Regardless of their exhaustion, they both lay awake together for the longest time. Harry’s mind was still buzzing as it had for days, unable to be blissfully thought free.

His chest tightened as he thought again of how close Ginny had come to death. It was only now he realised that his sacrifice had protected them all from further injury, but the thought of her life being taken away had evoked a strange feeling inside of him that he couldn’t quite place. It was stronger than his fear for her, stronger than anything else he had ever felt in his life. He knew what it was.

“Ginny?” he whispered quietly, pulling her even closer to his chest.

“Mmm?”

He gently pulled aside her hair and kissed the back of her neck before answering. “I love you.” He kissed her neck again. “I love you so much, it hurts.”

Placing her hand on top of his around her waist, she interlocked their fingers and squeezed. “I love you, too.”

***

The sun shone down brightly on the small village of Godric’s Hollow, the coolness of the previous night forgotten. Harry and Ginny walked hand in hand down the quiet country road that lead them away from the village, towards his parent’s home which was just in sight up ahead.

They had both awoken late that morning, and were content to simply lay in each other’s arms for the longest time. Not knowing that he had already been here, it had been Ginny who suggested that they go to Godric’s Hollow, and Harry quickly agreed, remembering the day he and Hermione had accidentally stumbled upon his home.

“This is it,” Harry said as they came to a stop at the low fence that bordered their yard, which was still overgrown with tangled grass and wild hedges.

“Wow,” she murmured in awe, looking at the ruins that must have once been a beautiful cottage.

Harry touched the rusted gate as he had last time, allowing Ginny to read the sign that rose from the ground before them. As she read Harry stood back and looked around the country side road, looking back towards Godric’s Hollow in the distance. Scanning around he saw Bathilda Bagshot’s house a little way down, remembering the horrors he and Hermione had faced there. He turned away and hesitantly opened the gate, pleased when it opened with a loud creak. Walking through the overgrown lawn Harry looked back at Bathilda’s house again, thinking that he shouldn’t mention his near strangulation to Ginny.

“I can’t believe this,” Ginny said, voicing Harry’s own thoughts. “This is where you lived.”

“Yeah,” he agreed as they gently stepped onto the front porch, the weathered wooden floor creaking ominously beneath their feet.

“Do you want to go inside?”

Harry nodded, not allowing himself to think about what he was going to do before he did it. The front door opened easily, and they stood on the threshold for a few moments, peering into the hallway. With a sense of unease, Harry stepped inside and lit his wand, illuminating the home.

The hallway was empty except for an old pram pushed up against the wall. Looking inside Harry could see the bundled up blankets in the carrier, and a small blue hat that must have been his in the basket beneath. He smiled, standing up straight and looking towards the living room on his right. This was where his father had died, he had seen so in Voldemort’s vision, but there was no evidence to show this. There was nothing to indicate that he had died here. Entering the living room Harry was surprised to see that it had been completely untouched from the night they died. A faded Daily Prophet from sixteen years ago lay on the coffee table, an empty coffee mug bearing the words ‘World’s Greatest Dad,’ sitting beside it.

Hearing Ginny behind him Harry moved in further, now seeing the array of children’s toys that littered the floor. Stepping over the blocks that had fallen from their container, Harry crouched down in front of the tall bookshelf. All the books from the bottom shelf had been pulled off and tossed aside, presumably by himself while he was searching for one that took his interest. He reached out and picked up the one from the top of the pile, a large black dog and a young boy playing on the cover. He opened to the front page, his heart swelling as he saw that it was signed with only a dogs paw print. It must have been from Sirius.

“Sweet Merlin!” Ginny exclaimed.

“What?” Harry said in alarm, standing up and drawing his wand. She was standing in front of the fire place, a silly grin playing on her face as she looked at something on the mantel.

“Look at you!” she replied, indicating to a picture frame. “You were so cute.”

He rushed over to her, looking at the picture she was indicating. He laughed as he saw himself at the tender age of one, taking a few tentative steps towards his father’s outstretched arms before sitting down half way. Dusting away the cobwebs, Harry looked at the other pictures, his heart leaping into his throat as he saw one of himself as only a tiny baby, being held Sirius. There was no haunted look across Sirius’ face as he held his tiny godson in his arms, and there was no lightning bolt shaped scar tainting his forehead.

“This is incredible,” Harry whispered in awe, looking at the array of family pictures on display. He turned on the spot and looked around, his eyes falling on his parent’s wedding picture that hung on the wall, the scene from their ceremony played over and over again. To his father, there was nothing else that mattered in the world as he lifted his wife’s veil, kissing her for the first time as a married man.

“Are you glad you came?” Ginny asked from beside him, looking up at the same picture.

Harry turned to her and smiled, wondering if this is how his father felt about his mother. He didn’t respond, kissing her gently instead and stroking her hair, thanking her for being with him that day. They stayed at the house for hours, looking through every single room, learning more about his parents that he could have ever learnt from hearing stories. When they both left early that evening, there wasn’t one room that hadn’t been visited, not one photo album left unopened.

With great reluctance Harry closed the front door and locked it, knowing that he could have stayed there all night and day, but they had to get back to Privet Drive. Kreacher had packed them a delicious array of food. As Ginny gripped his arm tightly and they apparated back to Surrey, Harry thought of the photograph of he and Sirius, knowing exactly what he needed to do the following day.

In a sole act of cowardice, Harry had intended to put off seeing his godson for as long as he could manage, believing that he would be just another reminder of those who had been lost. Now that he held the tiny boy in his arms for the first time, Harry could only see the bright future that was ahead of him, the one that he and so many others had made possible.

“He’s so little,” Harry remarked to Andromeda, Teddy’s small fingers wrapping themselves around his thumb. “How old is he now?”

“Almost two weeks.”

Harry laughed as Teddy sneezed, his thick hair turning from mousy brown to dark red. Teddy looked stunned for a moment, and Harry’s laughter turned to apprehension when he screwed up his face, certain that a loud cry was sure to follow. Almost as if he changed his mind, Teddy relaxed and brought his hand to his mouth, sucking on the back of it incessantly.

“He must be getting hungry,” Andromeda observed, peering at her grandson. She stood up and made her way into the kitchen. “You’d better feed him.”

“Me?” Harry asked in shock, looking at Ginny who sat across from him. She smiled and she too stood up, sitting next to him for a moment and kissing him softly.

“I’ll see if she wants some help,” she said, following Andromeda and purposefully leaving Harry alone with Teddy.

Alone now, he looked back at his godson, who was still sucking the back of his hand with a loud squelching noise. Seeing the saliva that was running down his chin, Harry wiped it off, crossing his fingers that he didn’t cry. Relaxing a little Harry leant back into the couch, taking a proper look at him. His skin was softer than anything he had felt before, softer than even Ginny’s, his legs kicking rhythmically as his toes clenched and unclenched. He felt his heart stop for a moment as he properly looked into Teddy’s brown eyes, seeing only the overwhelming sense of trust this child had for him.

‘I can’t believe I didn’t want to see you,” Harry whispered with a smile, watching as Teddy’s free hand flailed about. “Pretty silly, wasn’t it.”

Teddy pulled his hand away from his mouth with another great squelch, making a sound somewhere between a growl and a gurgle. Wiping away the saliva again, Harry would swear this his godson smiled up at him, his hair slowly darkening, changing from the dark red that matched Ginny’s, to dark black to match his own.

“Are you ready to feed him?” Andromeda asked as she re-entered the living room, holding a full bottle of milk.

“Yeah,” Harry answered her, coming around to the idea. Upon seeing the bottle of milk his Grandmother carried, Teddy began squirming and fussing, knowing what was happening. Ginny sat beside him as he awkwardly adjusted Teddy in his arms, sitting him up higher as instructed, her hand rubbing his knee in support.

“Don’t worry if he fusses,” Andromeda informed him. “He’s not taken to being bottle fed very well.”

“Right,” he said quietly, seized by a sudden bout of nerves as Teddy did just that. He squirmed and screwed up his face while his mouth still opens and closes upon nothing. Andromeda took his hand holding the bottle and guided it towards Teddy’s mouth, warning him to not let him suck it to far inside.

“How’s that?” Ginny asks with a smile as Andromeda reveals a camera.

They looked up at her and smiled somewhat nervously before turning their attention back to Teddy. “It’s perfect.”

***

It was early in the evening when Harry and Ginny appeared in the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole with a small pop, having spent most of their day with his young godson. They had reluctantly left Andromeda’s home after she requested Teddy be put down for the night, insisting that she still had a long night ahead of her. By now however, Harry was quite trained in the areas of bottle feeding and nappy changing, although that was an experience he wanted to forget. With a shiver, he wondered how Muggles could possibly manage without magic.

“You there, Harry?” Ginny teased as they walked hand in hand down the old country road, towards the lane way that would lead them to the Burrow.

He smiled at her teasing, then began to feel the sting of regret. He had taken her away from Hogwarts so that they could talk, so that he could tell her of all the things she deserved to know. The burning need to do that had haunted him for days, and when he was faced with the opportunity, he had found nothing to say.

“Sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk,” he said quietly, stopping at the wrought iron gate that bordered the Weasley’s property. “I know that’s why I dragged you away from your family.”

“It’s alright,” she promised him. “It was nice just being with you. And besides, we’ve got plenty of time to talk.”

“You keep reminding me of that,” he smiled as they carried on up the laneway, the bright lights from the Burrow guiding them on their way.

“Just don’t want you forgetting.”

They came to the front porch, the living room was visible to them through the window. Inside they could see Ron and Hermione leaning over something small in Ron’s hands. They could just make out what they were saying. “When their head goes around like that, it means they’re ready. Then you gently do this….and run for your life!”

“You’d really do that to me after last Tuesday?” Hermione asked sarcastically, withdrawing her wand and tapping the object that Ron held. “You can’t fool me, I know exactly what that is.”

These were their last moments of solitude, their last chance for privacy. He had to make the best of it. He pulled her into his arms and held her close, whispering into her ear. “I meant what I said the other day. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Ginny replied without hesitation. She pulled away slightly and stood up on her toes to kiss him, her hand at the back of his head not allowing him to pull away. Just as it had the morning they kissed on Privet Drive, Harry’s mind felt blissfully free for a few glorious minutes, and he never wanted to let her go. His hand tangled in her long hair as his other slipped around her waist, kissing her with a new sense of urgency.

“Oh! That’s enough you two!” Mrs Weasley scolded them as she burst through the front door, failing to hide the beaming smile on her face. “Come inside, I’ve made pumpkin soup.”

Reluctantly parting, Harry took Ginny’s hand as they followed Mrs Weasley inside, laughing at the thrilled expression on her face. Despite their time together being over, Harry knew that they had plenty of time now. They had their entire lives to talk about what happened, and he knew he would eventually turn his jumbled thoughts into actual sentences. But for now, he would simply enjoy Mrs Weasley’s pumpkin soup, knowing that from now on he could be utterly free.



A/N Thanks for reading everyone. I know this has been submitted under the 48 Hour challenge, and even though I probably haven't done exactly what the challenge is looking for, I've submitted it any way. Big thanks to the judges and those who have contributed to this great challenge.

For all those who are reading my other stories, keep an eye out for Chapter 3, where Harry, Ron and Hermione get up to more than a little mischeif. Chapter coming in the next few days.

killtherat
Reviews 11
ChapterPrinter




../back
‘! Go To Top ‘!

Sink Into Your Eyes is hosted by Grey Media Internet Services. HARRY POTTER, characters, names and related characters are trademarks of Warner Bros. TM & © 2001-2006. Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions on this site are those made by the owners. All stories(fanfiction) are owned by the author and are subject to copyright law under transformative use. Authors on this site take no compensation for their works. This site © 2003-2006 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Special thanks to: Aredhel, Kaz, Michelle, and Jeco for all the hard work on SIYE 1.0 and to Marta for the wonderful artwork.
Featured Artwork © 2003-2006 by Yethro.
Design and code © 2006 by SteveD3(AdminQ)
Additional coding © 2008 by melkior and Bear