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Hours, Days & Years | ||||
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Category: Post-DH/AB Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Fluff, General, Romance Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 12 Summary: We are told that Harry and Ginny would have hours, days, and maybe even years to talk after the Final Battle. These are some of those conversations. Hitcount: Story Total: 5666 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: I am grateful to Jennyelf for her quick, thorough, merciful, and spot-on review of this, my first attempt at writing a fic. |
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Being with Ginny. He was in that groggy, confusing place between being deeply asleep and fully awake. A runaway train of disjointed thoughts was rumbling through his mind. Ginny was okay. She had survived. And she was nearby. Fred. And Tonks. And Lupin. So many dead. Did it all really happen? He was moving closer now to being awake and the certainty slammed into him. The past few days–the battle–had happened. The nightmare was real. His entire body clenched tight like a fist as he fought back tears and the urge to throw up. The agony of losing loved ones was not new to him. In fact, it was all too familiar. But that did not make it bearable. As the intense, nauseating wave gradually subsided after a few minutes, he rolled over onto his back. He slowly opened his eyes. Voldemort–Riddle–was gone. For good. The massive, impassible barrier that had always sat just up ahead in the path was suddenly not blocking his way any longer. He and Hermione and Ron had succeeded. What had seemed like an impossible task was actually now done. But at what cost? His best friends were still there. Had they actually come to their senses and finally snogged? Ginny was okay. And she was nearby. Now fully awake, he sat up in his four-poster bed and looked around the dorm room. He was alone. The other beds were empty. He had not been in this room in almost a year, but it still felt familiar and comfortable–more like home than any place except the Burrow. The warm glow of dawn began inching through the window. He was uncertain how long he had been asleep, but judging by the light outside, it may have been an entire day. His stiff, bruised body did not want to leave the cozy bed, but he forced himself to get up. There were people that he had to see–had to be near. After many months, he finally did not have to go far. As he walked gingerly down the steps into the Common Room, he spotted three figures on the sofa closest to the fireplace. He walked toward them and realized with a grin that it was Ron and Hermione curled up together asleep at one end of the couch. The flowing red hair told him that Ginny was the lone figure sleeping at the other end. He came around the front of the couch and stared at her. For so many exhausting, lonely months, the image of Ginny had sustained him. She had such a beautiful face! (Why had it taken him years to appreciate that?) However, the longer he looked at her, the more he realized that it was also a face that showed traces of tragedy and trauma. Most of all though, it was a good, caring, honest face and he wanted nothing more than to be near her. Knowing that it was still very early in the morning, and feeling unsure about how Ginny would react to him, he decided to let the three people he cared most about in the world keep sleeping. Not entirely sure of his destination, he turned and walked slowly toward the portrait hole. “Harry,” said a sleepy voice from the couch. He turned and saw Ginny getting up and drowsily coming toward him. She walked slowly but with purpose and did not hesitate as she wrapped him in a full embrace. He returned the hug with equal enthusiasm, relishing her warmth and wildflower scent. He completely forgot the aches all over his body. They held onto each other, neither one saying a word as the moments passed. Harry finally broke the silence. “You’re awake.” “Yeah,” Ginny replied with a warm smile. “I just had a feeling that there was something that I wanted to get up for.” Without letting go of each other, they both leaned back in the hug so that they could look each other in the eye. “Ginny,” Harry said slowly, “I am so sorry about Fred.” Ginny grimaced and her eyes reddened, but she did not cry. After a moment, she nodded slightly and replied, “I don’t know what I am going . . . going to do . . . without him.” Ginny bit her lower lip and held Harry’s gaze for a few seconds longer before returning her cheek to the comfort of his chest. “What about the rest of the family . . . your mum and dad and George? How are they?” “I don’t know. Yesterday was terrible. By last night, they all seemed to be overwhelmed or in a state of serious denial.” “Do you want to go find them?” asked Harry. “I would really like to check on everybody.” Ginny leaned back again, looking deeply into those green eyes. Touched that Harry still considered her family to be his family, she replied, “Yeah, that would be nice.” As they finally let go of the embrace, Ginny gestured over to the couch and with a faint smile asked, “What about that lot?” Harry considered his sleeping friends. “You know, that is so long overdue. Let’s let ‘em enjoy a lie in.” “Okay,” Ginny agreed. “But before too long I want the details on how that finally came to be.” Harry grinned and nodded his head. They turned and hand-in-hand left the Common Room. Hours later, the pair walked slowly across the deserted Quidditch Pitch. Although not nearly as bad as it was closer to the school, the signs that a terrible battle had taken place were all around. Harry and Ginny entered the section of the stands where the Gryffindor students usually sat. They climbed slowly to the top row of seats and sat closely side-by-side, their legs gently touching. They sat for a while in silence, looking out over the pitch as the afternoon sun warmed them. Eventually, Harry said “You know, I can’t remember the last time I sat in these stands.” Ginny pondered that for a moment. “You’re always out there in the middle of the action.” “Either that,” Harry replied with a slight grin, “or visiting my dear friend Madam Pomfrey.” Ginny smiled and nodded. “Those do seem to be two recurring themes: Either doing something that is likely to cause injuries or recovering from those injuries.” “I think that I would like to take a break from both options for a while,” said Harry. “Good plan,” Ginny agreed. After a pensive pause, Ginny observed, “George just seems lost. I am so worried about him. Mum and Dad, at least, have each other. A part of George is just gone forever.” Harry took Ginny’s hand and looked intently into her eyes. “What about you, Ginny? I know how much your brothers mean to you.” “I don’t know, Harry. I want to say I’ll be alright. I mean, I will . . . eventually. I’m gonna miss Fred so much. As crazy as he and George are, they are always there for me.” “Ginny, I want to be there for you. I want to help in any way I can.” She returned his gaze and gently stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. “Thank you, Harry. That means so much to me.” They both eventually returned their eyes to look out over the stadium and to the Forbidden Forrest in the distance. After a long, comfortable pause, Harry said, “Gin, there is just so much that I want to tell you about — to try to explain to you.” “Harry, you don’t owe me explanations.” “But I feel like I do. I want to explain why I ended it between us. Why I left you behind and why I didn’t contact you for so long. I want to tell you about the battle and why I did what I did. Ginny, I am so sorry for all of that.” “Harry. Look at me. You just did something beyond all belief. You, a seventeen-year-old, did something that armies of older, more experienced wizards could not accomplish or were too terrified to even try. You just rid the world of an unspeakable evil and gave us all hope for a safe future that we could not have as long as Riddle was around. I would have to be a really petty person to criticize you for how you managed to accomplish that. Yes, I missed you this past year — missed you horribly. And I engaged in more than my share of self-pity. But angry, no. Mostly I am just so thankful to have you sitting here next to me.” Harry was overwhelmed by Ginny’s words. Clearly the girl he had so reluctantly left behind last summer was gone and in her place sat this mature, beautiful young woman who had experienced more than any sixteen-year-old should ever have to. He took her hand again, trying to convey with his touch the gratitude and affection that he felt for her. “Gin, remember how you said last summer that you wanted your birthday present to me to give me something to remember you by?” “I remember a bit about that, yeah,” she answered, with a sly, embarrassed smile. ”Well, I want you to know that your gift was a brilliant success. I thought about you all the time this past year. As much as I love Hermione and Ron, there were so many times that I just felt . . . I don’t know, lonely and alone. The only thing that got me through that was thinking about you–and about your present.” Ginny gazed deeply into his emerald eyes. Shyly, Harry continued, “A lot of nights, after they had gone to sleep, I would pull out the Marauder’s Map and find your name and just stare at it. I would try to imagine what you were doing. And maybe that I was there with you.” He paused. “Anyway . . . it made me feel less alone.” “I’m glad, Harry. I’m glad that I could be there, even if it was only in both of our imaginations.” Ginny laughed. “Merlin knows I thought about you all of the time.” After a moment, Ginny asked, “I know you probably haven’t had time, but have you thought about what you will do now? He replied, “I don’t really know. But I reckon that’s kind of okay. You know, for as long as I can remember, and certainly since I learned about the prophecy, I haven’t been able to think about a future that did not involve Voldemort. A future was something that other people had. Ron, and Hermione, and . . . you.” He quickly continued, “But that’s changed now. And it’s pretty amazing. . . . I don’t know what my future holds, but I do know that I hope that it will involve you . . . in some way.” “In some way,” Ginny echoed. “And what ‘way’ would that be, Mr. Potter?” she asked with a friendly grin. Flustered, but still smiling, Harry responded, “I . . . I don’t know. What I do know is that I have been apart from you for almost a year, and now I just want to be near you.” “That works for me,” Ginny replied, as she scooted even closer to Harry. After another pause, Ginny asked, “Speaking of being near me, you will be coming to stay with the family at the Burrow, . . . won’t you?” “I hadn’t thought about it,” Harry replied. “But yeah, that would be really nice.” “Mum will insist upon it, I’m sure.” Ginny smiled. After spending most of the rest of the afternoon laughing and crying and reconnecting–and really just enjoying being near one another–the young couple came down from the stands and walked hand-in-hand off the pitch, back to their family and friends. Kissing Ginny. He was in that in-between state in which he was not fully awake, but his senses were aware enough to relish just how cozy he was in his warm bed and soft cotton sheets. A cool breeze was coming in through the window and a slow-flowing stream of thoughts wound gently through his mind. There had been a lot of ups and downs in the past three months. He had been to more funerals than anybody should have to attend in a lifetime. But they were done now. At least for now. The Weasleys, the family that he loved so dearly, his family, were still grieving. For most of them, their grief was evolving. There were increasingly long stretches, sometimes even whole days, when they did not cry and something might be capable of making them smile or even laugh. George and Mrs. Weasley were a different story. They both had long, hard roads ahead of them. Ginny. His relationship with her–whatever term one might use of it–was better–closer–than it had ever been before. They had been able to be there for each other; to help begin the process of healing from their physical and emotional scars. He also had come to realize more than ever how much he loved spending time with her, just being near her. Despite their renewed closeness, they had not yet kissed. In fact, he realized, today was the one-year anniversary of the last time that he had kissed her. And oh, what a kiss that had been! Harry rolled over onto his back and opened his eyes. There was something that he wanted to get up for. Ron was lightly snoring on the other side of the room. The smell of bacon and possibly scones wafted up from the kitchen. Having just worn boxer shorts and a t-shirt to bed, Harry put on a robe and opened the bedroom door as fast as he could in an effort to minimize the squeak. There must be some lubricating charm that would deal with that hinge. Harry walked slowly down the stairs and into the kitchen. Ginny and her mum were seated at the table and engaged in a quiet conversation. Ginny held her mum’s hand and they both had red eyes. The Weasley women looked up and smiled as Harry entered the room. “Mornin’, Harry. Hungry?” Mrs. Weasley asked. “Always,” Harry replied, knowing just what Mrs. Weasley wanted to hear. Ginny was wearing her soft red flannel robe and her hair was down and disheveled in a way that Harry found to be incredibly attractive. She came straight at Harry and wrapped her arms around him. “Good morning, Birthday Boy,” she whispered, looking up into his eyes. “Oh yeah, it is my birthday,” he replied. “As if you actually forgot, you prat,” she said softly as she hugged him one more time. Mrs. Weasley placed a plate of eggs, bacon, and a blueberry scone on the table and said, “Harry, come eat.” As Harry came toward the table, Mrs. Weasley embraced him, but it was brief and half-hearted. “Happy birthday, Harry. I am going up to check on Arthur.” She walked slowly up the stairs and Harry came and sat in front of his plate. Ginny sat down next to him and wrapped both hands around her mug of tea. “She’s having a tough morning?” Harry asked. “No tougher than usual, I would say. You know, I want so desperately to be able to do something for her.” “Ginny, you are! Just being here. Listening when she feels like talking. Holding her hand when she doesn’t. That stuff not only is “something,” I think that it is the most important thing. In fact, I am not sure that much else would really matter beyond that.” Harry took Ginny’s hand in his lap and they sat there quietly for a few minutes. Eventually, Ginny said, “Alright, Potter, enough of being glum. Today is going to be a happy day. That is the rule.” “Well,” Harry responded with a smile, “If that is the rule, then we best abide by it.” Harry and Ginny were dressed and outside before her brothers even came down for breakfast. They spent a happy hour on two of the family brooms playing catch with a Quaffle and chasing each other around the paddock that served as the Weasley’s Quidditch pitch. Mid-morning found them relaxing in the shade canopy of a tall field maple that bordered the pitch. Harry sat with his back against the base of the old tree’s trunk and Ginny lay in the grass with her head in Harry’s lap. Harry looked down at Ginny in her flowery yellow tank top and cut off jeans and he smiled. “You never cease to amaze me, Gin . . . with your flying.” “You’re no slouch yourself, Harry.” “Well, thank you,” Harry persisted, “but I’m serious. You really could play professionally.” “Well thank you, Harry, but I am serious too. You were born to be on a broom. With the possible exception of Krum, you are the best Seeker I have ever seen. You could go pro too.” “Actually, I think I was born to be sitting right here, under this tree with you,” Harry replied with a grin. “You may have a point there, Potter,” Ginny conceded as she reached up and briefly stroked his cheek. “Unfortunately, I am not sure that you could make a career out of sitting under a tree.” “Maybe not,” Harry agreed. “But as long as I was sitting with you, I think it would be okay.” Ginny smiled. After a pause, she said, “Speaking of Quidditch, pretty soon we are going to have to figure out what to do about school this year. It’s incredible that they might actually be able to re-open by September first.” “I never would have believed it,” Harry agreed. “What do you want to do?” Ginny sat up and scooted right next to Harry. She turned her head so that her forehead was just a few inches away from his. “I don’t know,” she said, looking into his eyes. “Last year at school was so bad in so many ways. Part of me just can’t imagine going back to that. But another part of me doesn’t want last year to be what I think about when I think about Hogwarts. I have so many good, happy memories there. I guess I want to finish on a good note.” “I know what you mean,” Harry replied. “It’s almost like Riddle wins in a way if we let his evil be what we remember when we think about such an important period in our lives.” Harry paused. “I have a feeling that people are going to start encouraging me to get a job. To do something ‘important.’ At the Ministry or something. My feeling is that the time will come for that. But I am only seventeen-years-old. Or rather eighteen,” he added with a grin. “The time will come to play grown-up. Right now, I just want to be near you. If you are going back, then I’m coming with you . . . If that’s okay.” Ginny grinned. “Yeah, I think that would be alright.” She paused for a moment or two. “Let’s do it. Let’s go back and make some new happy memories. . . . Let’s win the Quidditch Cup one more time!” Harry broke into a wide smile. ‘I like the way you think, Weasley.” Ginny returned the smile. “Alright, now that that’s settled, what else can we plan?” Ginny asked as she leaned her head back up against the tree trunk, right next to Harry. “I know, let’s talk about your birthday party.” Harry replied playfully, “Oh, I was so hoping that it would be an elegant affair, with hundreds of people I don’t even know.” Ginny giggled. “Well, I’m not sure about hundreds. I know that Mum did invite all the family and Hermione and Neville and Luna . . . and Andromeda and Teddy.” “Actually, that will be perfect,” Harry said. “Okay. Well, what about presents? Anything in particular that you are hoping for this year?” The obvious answer came immediately to mind. “There is one thing actually.” “Oh yeah, what’s that?” Ginny replied, with genuine curiosity. “Well . . .” Harry started hesitantly, “remember what I said about how much I appreciated your present last year?” “Yes,” Ginny responded slowly. “I was hoping, more than anything, that I might get another one of those,” Harry said in a low voice that was almost a whisper. Ginny looked around. Then, without another word, she straddled Harry’s lap, leaning her face into his so that their foreheads were touching–all the while maintaining eye contact. “I think that can be arranged,” she answered. “Happy Eighteenth, Harry.” Ginny gently brought her lips against Harry’s. This felt so tender and right. With one hand around her waist and the other relishing the feel of her hair, Harry deepened the kiss as Ginny caressed his face. This new kiss was far sweeter than the memory that had sustained him for a year. Harry was soon lost in the glorious physical closeness with this beautiful witch, but also in the emotions that flowed with equal passion between the two of them. And this time Ron did not interrupt! After a few minutes, they both came up for air. “Thank you,” Harry said. “Any chance that we can make this an annual tradition?” Ginny nodded slowly. “Oh, I think that as long as you are a good boy, it is possible that it could be more than once a year.” “Good,” Harry replied. He pulled her back into an embrace where they both happily stayed for a while. Eventually, Harry leaned back so that he could look Ginny in the eyes. “Gin, I know the past year has been horrible. We have both gone through stuff that no one our age … no person any age should ever have to endure. But we did endure it. We survived. And these last couple of months with you at the Burrow. . . I don’t want to say that they have made everything alright, because that’s not true. But they have been amazing! They have shown me that with you, I can do anything. I can survive anything. You challenge me, Gin. You comfort me. You make me laugh. You are so beautiful. You’re this amazing Quidditch player. Mostly though, you just make me incredibly happy. I know that we didn’t really do this last time, and maybe nobody actually does this anymore, but I wanted to formally ask you, Ginny, if you would be my girlfriend.” For the first time in months, Ginny lit up with a smile of unrestrained happiness. “Harry, you should know by now that I don’t care what anybody else does. Nothing would make me happier than to officially be your girlfriend.” She paused. “This past year, I just felt lost a lot of the time. I . . . I like to think of myself as being pretty strong–as being able to handle problems. But at times it all got to be too much. I would try to deal with things and fight back, but I felt like I was dueling with a broken wand. It would have been easy to lose hope. I know a lot of people did. But it is different when I am with you, Harry. The way forward is very clear. I know exactly who I am and who I want to be.” After a further pause, Ginny continued, “Harry, you know that ever since I was a little girl you have been important to me. It made me really happy in the last couple of years when we moved beyond my crush and became friends. And then last year when we became more than friends–well, that was nice too. But all of that pales in comparison to these last few months, Harry. . . . I am having a hard time putting my feelings into words, but this, this just feels like how it is supposed to be.” Harry just looked into her brown eyes and could not believe that it was his life that was turning out so well. “I love you, Ginny Weasley.” She gave him one more brief, soft kiss. “I love you, Harry Potter.” After a few more moments of staring into each other’s eyes, Ginny jumped to her feet, grabbed Harry’s hand, and pulled him up, too. “Come on, Birthday Boy, let’s go get some lunch.” “You know, Gin, we are definitely following the rule. This has been a very happy day.” Their fingers intertwined, the young couple practically skipped back up to the house. Marrying Ginny. Harry shot out of his bed in the flat that he shared with Ron and George above Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. He had something that he could not wait to do today! He dressed in his best khaki trousers, a crisp blue button-down shirt, and a brand new black cashmere jumper over top–nicer attire than he would normally wear to go watch a Quidditch match. Watching her fly he always had the overpowering feeling that he was the luckiest wizard in the world. Soaring through the air with that brilliant mane of red hair flowing behind her like a battle flag, she was an almost impossible combination of beauty and athleticism. Much to Ron’s mixed emotions, the Harpies had dominated the Cannons 290 to 60, with Ginny having scored nine of the Harpies’ goals. Now Harry was standing out in the middle of the pitch, waiting. The stands appeared to have emptied. He was nervous and yet absolutely confident about what he was going to do. As he stood there alone in the middle of the stadium, his mind wandered back over the hours, days, and years that had brought him to this moment. She had been in his life for more than twelve years now. For far too many of those years, he had foolishly failed to realize the treasure that was right in front of him. Then, when he had finally come to see that she was fun, funny, supportive, and challenging, it was striking how soon thereafter he had also come to appreciate that she had a beautiful smile, that she smelled really nice, and that he had this irresistible compulsion to run his fingers through her hair. From then on, he had been a lost cause. Sure, there had been that detour to deal with the whole Voldemort thing, but the reality was that his course was set. His heart–his life–belonged completely to Ginny Weasley to do with as she pleased. Harry snapped out of his reverie and realized that Ginny was striding purposefully across the pitch with that same beautiful smile on her face. They quickly wrapped their arms around each other and shared a warm kiss. “George told me I might find you out here,” Ginny whispered as they broke apart. “Yeah, I just did not feel like mingling with the masses today,” Harry replied with a grin. He continued, “Amazing game today, love. The Cannons did not stand a chance.” “There were a couple of tries I should have made, but all in all, I reckon we were pretty strong.” “Strong? You were overpowering! The United are not going to know what hit them next month. Wood is in for a rude awakening.” “I am looking forward to seeing dear Oliver,” Ginny smirked. After a pause, Ginny observed, “You look really yummy today, by the way.” “I just wanted to dress properly for the occasion,” a slightly red-faced Harry replied. “And what occasion is that?” Ginny inquired. “Oh, just seeing you,” Harry responded evasively. “Well . . .,” she replied with suspicion, “I do have the genuine pleasure of seeing you almost every day, Mr. Potter, but thank you . . . . Anyhow, c’mon, love. The masses have probably moved on. Let’s go find the family and head back to the Burrow.” Harry swallowed hard. “Gin, wait a sec. There is something that I want to talk to you about.” “Sure, Harry. What is it?” “I want to talk about us.” “Oh,” Ginny said softly, “What about us?” Out in the center of the seemingly deserted stadium, Harry took both of Ginny’s hands in his and looked deeply into her eyes. “Gin, what I want to say may take a minute, so please bear with me.” Harry took a deep breath, and then continued, “I know that we have talked about the night of the Final Battle and when I went into the forest. Ginny, when I faced Voldemort across that clearing, I knew I had to die. What I haven’t told you before is that I had only one thought at the end: You. I thought about holding you, kissing you, and just being with you. You were the life I wanted, but was never going to have. And then, somehow, for some reason, I got another chance. I am not going to blow this chance.” Ginny inhaled sharply and her eyes reddened. Harry continued, “Ginny, as you know all too well, I can’t promise you that life with me would be easy. But I can promise you that I will spend my entire life standing beside you, doing my best to love you, to support and encourage you, . . to make you smile. Whatever life has in store for us, I want to tackle it with you. . . . . For whatever reason, the family that I was born into was taken from me way too early. I think because of that, I always used to wonder why life was so unfair. Or at least why my life seemed so cursed. It was only in recent years that I realized just how wrong I was. I may have had one family taken from me, but I was given another one: a big, crazy, loving, wonderful family. I could not believe my good fortune that the Weasleys wanted me to be part of them. And if that’s all it ever was–being a member of a loving family–I reckon I would have been plenty happy. But some time in my sixth year, I slowly began to realize that life was not done surprising me. You see not only was I given a great new family, but within that family, there was a hidden jewel. A beautiful, amazing, spirited woman with whom I could one day build my own family. And the kicker was that she loved me too.” Harry got down on one knee and looked up into Ginny’s eyes. They were redder, but still no tears. “Gin, I don’t know what I did to deserve your love, but I know that I want to spend the rest of my life trying to deserve it.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small felt-covered box. He opened the lid and offered it to Ginny. “Ginevra Molly Weasley, I love you deeply and I know that I always will. You would make me the happiest wizard in the world if you agreed to be my wife. Will you marry me?” Now the tears came. Ginny too dropped to one knee. She brought her forehead up against Harry’s and stroked his face. “Oh, Harry. The fact that you still don’t know why I love you . . . . Maybe that’s part of why I love you. You are the kindest, most generous and selfless wizard I know. I’m not sure why I was so lucky as to meet the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with when I was ten years old, but I did. We have had our twists and turns along the way. There will probably be more to come, but there is nowhere I would rather spend my life than by your side.” Ginny took the simple but elegant diamond ring from the box and slid it on her finger. “I love you, Harry James Potter. I always have and I always will. Yes, of course I will be your wife.” Harry and Ginny kissed. Although they had enjoyed this physical act hundreds of times before, this particular kiss felt entirely brand new. What previously had been a passionate gesture between hormonal teenagers or desperate lovers was now a promise of forever–a forever that both of them had wanted for so long and were now ready to begin without further delay. As the couple relished their embrace, they suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of clapping and cheering coming from the stands. They were not alone. Standing up and looking to the source of the noise, they spotted Hermione and Ron standing about ten rows up in the section of stands nearest to the Harpies goals. Then the cheering spread. Two sections over stood George and Angelina holding baby Fred. Several rows up in the mid-field stands were Molly and Arthur with Andromeda and little Teddy, who was jumping up and down and yelling as loud as he could. Harry and Ginny continued to rotate. Applauding joyously down by the visiting team goals were Bill and Fleur with baby Victoire. Completing the cheering throng were Charlie and Percy, who were clapping and whistling in the mid-field stands across from their parents. Ginny burst out laughing and embraced Harry with everything she had. “Did you, by any chance, have something to do with our little audience?” “Maybe,” Harry replied softly, as he hugged Ginny back. The happy couple spun slowly in the middle of the pitch as they waited for their family to come down from the stands and join them. |
| Reviews 12 |
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