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SIYE Time:18:57 on 14th December 2024
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Love Is A Dangerous Thing
By Pigwidgeon11

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Category: Post-HBP
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: General
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: G
Reviews: 2
Summary: Harry and Ginny are part of a contingent of wizards and witches who go to a small African village to help out. However, when Ginny goes with some villagers to a mountain orphanage and is nearly killed, they both learn a very important lesson.
Hitcount: Story Total: 4741



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 finally can add another story to SIYE! This is kind of a dramatic story with Harry and Ginny and touches on some deeper things. I intended it to be a romance, but it ended up like... this!




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Sweet, unfamiliar birdsong woke Harry, washing over the valley and sending people to the fields. The small African village was alive with the happy, boisterous noise of a hundred people rising and starting the day. Children with chocolaty skin, much like Dean’s, chased each other along the dirt street outside the homely little hut.

As he sat up in bed, Harry thought about how good it felt to be here now, helping out the poor African village as summer came around. He had arrived three days ago with a large troupe of fellow magicians, along with a lot of food and supplies that had been donated by the students of Hogwarts.

“Hey, sleepy! I’ve been up for hours! The village is starting to wonder if you’ve gone off and died over night!”

Grinning, Harry stood and shot back, “No wonder I’m better-looking than you — I get my beauty sleep!”

Laughing, Ginny Weasley strode into the hut, arms clasped protectively around a little orphan girl who stared up at Harry in amazement.

“He big…” Her eyes were round with wonder.

“He is,” Ginny agreed, spinning the child around. Her silky hair, pulled back with a hair band, flew out from her head. Harry leaned against the doorframe, admiring how her eyes sparkled with happiness as she cradled the child. ‘She looks even more beautiful here in Africa than she does every day,’ he though blearily.

“So,” Ginny began again, perching the child on her hip. “Are you ever going to come? There’s a lot of work to do — the fields have to be irrigated, the women need help with their housework, the men need to hunt, and shipments are coming from Al-Gxon.”

Harry nodded. “I get the point. I’m coming. Just give me a minute to change and I’ll be out.”

Ginny gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “OK, thanks, Harry. I’ve had my hands full caring for these children while you’ve slept! They’re quite a bundle.” She tickled the girl’s chin. “But they are so cute!” She glanced back up at him, smiling brilliantly. “See you around, Harry.”

Harry watched her go. She had taken so easily to village life. He was amazed that she hadn’t complained once about the inconveniences. It was very different — it bothered him sometimes. No running water, no electricity, very primitive tools and homes… But the people were always so happy, so excited to see new faces, that they made it easy to get over all the other troubles.

Three children came tumbling through the open portal. He smiled, called a greeting in their native language, and pulled on some thin work-clothes. He had gotten used to interruptions like these. In a village like Arkapal, there was no privacy. This was another thing that surprised him. It had been amazingly easy to get over the fact that people were going to walk in on you many times without knocking — these children knew only love and togetherness, and they practically worshipped Harry, Ginny, and the other magicians that had come to them.

As Harry emerged once more into the sun, he thought, amazed, ‘This, truly, is life — growing up knowing only love.’



The sun still hung high in the sky as Harry placed the large, heavy bucket next to the hut. MaJachi, the elderly soothsayer, smiled up at him, thanking him quietly. He nodded, smiling back, and continued on.

Ginny hailed him from beneath the large tree to the north of the village. “Harry! Come help me with these nuts.” As he approached, she brushed back a strand of red hair with rough fingers and explained, “They’re for dinner tonight. MaJachi asked me to help with the preparations.”

Harry sat beside her, crossing his legs and watching her crack the hard shell against the trunk of the tree, then toss the shell over to a child that sat watching her from a distance. The child picked the shell up, tossed it from hand to hand, then, smiling, ran back to the village.

“It’s so peaceful here,” Ginny said after a moment. Harry discarded a shell and shot a sideways glance at her. She was sitting perfectly still, eyes fondly watching a group of children making a game out of carrying water to MaJachi. The freckles dusting her cheeks had increased in number under the scorching sun. She started, suddenly, and scratched her nose. Smiling, she turned and saw Harry watching her. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Potter. What?”

He threw a nut at her. “You aren’t doing your share of the work.”

Ginny laughed. “Is that all?”

“No.” Harry tossed a nut in the air and caught it in his mouth. “You just look so happy when you watch the children. I’ve never seen you look that delighted — when you were swinging that child around this morning…” He shook his head. “You’re going to make a wonderful aunt.”

“I can’t wait to see what kind of father Ron is,” Ginny sighed, smiling. “He and Hermione are going to work so hard to make the baby become a wonderful person.”

She was silent for a moment, but as his hands worked with a particularly tough nut, Harry could tell she was contemplating something.

“Harry… I’ve been thinking about something. There’s an orphanage up in the mountains… Run by a couple of nuns, and a group of the village people are taking food to them tonight. I … I’m going with them.”

“What?!?” Harry startled himself with his anger. “Ginny, no, you can’t! Didn’t the village elders say there are guerilla rebels in the mountains? They…Ginny, they kill everyone who gets in their way, and they’d be only too happy to steal the food you’re taking!”

Ginny stared at the nut in her hands. “I knew you would take it this way. I was afraid to tell you.” She suddenly looked up at him, her eyes blazing. “But I’m going, Harry. I need to do this.”

“Ginny, you could be killed! You’re practically sacrificing yourself!”

“Yes, I’m sacrificing myself to help others, and frankly, Harry, I don’t need your approval!” She scrambled to her feet and ran back to the village.

Harry stared incredulously after her. She was going to get herself killed!

Sulkily, Harry gathered up the basket of shelled nuts and followed Ginny back to the village, feeling that the sun had just become a little colder.




Harry paced up and down in the hut, Ginny’s note clenched in his shaking fist.

I’ve gone. Be back in about three hours. I’ll be fine. Love you. Ginny.

If she loved him, why had she gone?

Frustrated, he slammed his fist against the wall. The hut wobbled, and Harry quickly sat down.

The white flower she had left behind on his pillow seemed like a flag of truce — Harry could tell she wanted to make peace. He wanted to forgive her — he could see that she had gone because she wanted to help others, but what about him? She had him in a panic!
‘She really should be back now’ he though worriedly. He glanced out into the darkness through the window. Candle light still flickered from within many of the huts, but there was no sign of the villagers returning from the mountains.




Harry ran through the village, heart pounding. It had been over four hours since Ginny had left. She wasn’t back. Something had gone wrong.

He skidded to a halt outside the small International Affairs office. This was one of about three stone buildings for many miles, and it served as a police station as well. The lights were still on, so Harry let himself in.

A pale man in a blue uniform stood behind a counter, paging through a thick volume. He was frowning and speaking into an old-fashioned ‘phelly-tone.’ Harry impatiently glanced around for another teller, but the man appeared to be alone.

“Yes, I understand. The colonel will return your call as soon as possible. Thank you.” He hung up, looking annoyed. “Yes, may I help you?”

“A contingent of villagers and British magicians went up into the mountains about four hours ago. Have they come back?”
“Yes, they have.” The man scowled as Harry breathed a sigh of relief. “But that’s the good news.”

Harry’s heart plummeted. “What’s… what’s the bad news?”

The officer hesitated, stroking his dark moustache. “They were…attacked at the orphanage. It was a massacre.”

Harry stared at him. Ginny. “Were there…any survivors?”

“Any survivors were taken to the town hospital. It’s —”

“Right down the road. Thank you.”

Harry ran faster than he had ever run before. His feet carried him over about half a mile in what seemed like seconds. About ten Jeeps were parked outside the hospital. An official waved him inside.

Harry couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe. His legs weren’t moving properly. He walked past the receptionist into the waiting room, and nearly fainted.

“Ginny!”

She looked up at him from her seat on the floor in the corner. Tears had stained her cheeks, and her ponytail was coming out. Harry fell to his knees beside her, pressing her cold hands to his face.

“Oh, thank God, Ginny, I was so scared!”

He expected her to respond, but instead she began to cry and stood up.

“Ginny, you nearly died….I was so worried…You shouldn’t have gone…”

“You have no idea what it was like, Harry.” Ginny’s voice was scathing. “You say you were scared. You chide me for going. You know nothing of it.”

Harry stared at her as she ran down the hallway and out of the hospital. “Ginny!”

She was already far down the road when he dashed out of the doors. “GINNY!”

She kept running. What was up with her?

‘She’s too bloody fast,’ Harry though angrily as he took off after her. He ran all the way into the village, just in time to see Ginny turn after a hut.

When he followed her, she was staring, shaking, out over the surface of a pond. Harry hesitated.

“They killed them, Harry,” Ginny whispered. “They killed the orphans. One by one. They held guns to our heads and shot them, in front of our eyes.”

Each word wrenched at Harry’s heart. Each word was followed by a terrible sob from Ginny. The pain was radiating from her in incredible measures.

“I know we said we wouldn’t use our wands when we came here, Harry…. But I took mine out and … and killed them all. Every last rebel.” She turned to face him, her eyes boring into him. “Their blood will remain forever on my hands. Oh God, Harry, what have I become?” She sunk to the ground, covering her face with her hands.

Harry didn’t know what to say. He wanted to shout, he wanted to tell her how she had hurt him…But he couldn’t.

He let her cry. He stood between the huts, watching her crying, feeling each tear that ran down her cheeks stabbing through his heart.

After many long moments, she stood wordlessly and buried her face in his shoulders. He embraced her, whispering, “Ginny, why does it take death to show us love? Why must we learn how much we care through the pain of others?” He kissed her forehead.

“Take me home.”

So Harry took her to the children. It took Ginny a long time, but she slowly recovered from her shock. She never forgot, though.

----------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ----------------------------------

Ha rry stared at the picture of the two of them in Africa. “It seems like just yesterday.”

Ginny smiled and called from the kitchen, “Yes, it does.”

“Do you know what I learned that day, my love?”

Ginny paused in her cooking. “What?”

“An army could never cause as much damage as someone who is driven by love. You were driven by love and anger, and you reeked havoc upon those rebels.”

“So you think I had a right to take the lives of fifty people?”

“You had more of a right to do that than they had the right to take the lives of a hundred innocent children.”

Ginny sighed. “Love is a dangerous thing.”

“Too true.”



A/N: I'm taking a random poll: which of my stories are you most anticipating the sequel for? This will help me in deciding which chapter to write next. Also, does anyone want to beta-read for me? I think I had someone beta for me once, but it kind of fell apart. Can't hurt, right? Thank you for bearing with me through my impossible Author's notes.
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