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Flesh Memory | ||||
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Category: Post-DH/AB Characters:None Genres: Drama, Romance Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: G Reviews: 14 Summary: After Harry sleeps in Gryffindor Tower the night after the battle, Ginny is sitting there when he wakes up. Hitcount: Story Total: 7799 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: Originally written for the hpgw_ficafest post DH challenge. I hope you enjoy it! |
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Harry’s eyes cracked open and he sighed to himself. It was amazing how completely exhausted he really had been by the time he crawled into bed yesterday. He had slept for a few hours, then woken, taken a quick shower in the abandoned dormitory bathroom, eaten a little bit more food Kreacher had provided, and then collapsed onto the bed again. And he was still tired now. He glanced at the window. The sun was coming up and his stomach gave an involuntary clench at the sight. Sunrise. A mere 24 hours ago he had been in the midst of battle, grabbing the Elder wand as it flew through the air out of Lord Voldemort’s hand, 24 hours ago that he found he was going to survive this war. And that others would not. He bit his lip and took a deep breath to keep his emotions in check. He still couldn’t believe that Remus and Tonks were gone. And Fred, too. He wasn’t sure how he was going to face any of the Weasleys now, intrude on the grief that they were surely feeling. He sighed again, deciding that he would deal with these issues later. Right now, he needed to get up, use the toilet, and have Kreacher bring him some breakfast. He wasn’t trying to be rude toward the Weasleys, but the near-starvation diet Ron, Hermione, and he had been on over the last 10 months was still a lingering memory and his stomach was seemingly never satisfied now. He moved his feet toward the side of the bed and frowned as he realized the blankets were held tight around them, making it nearly impossible to move them. He grabbed his glasses off the side table and put them on, looking at the end of the bed. He didn’t know what he expected to see, Crookshanks maybe, on the end of his bed. But it wasn’t Crookshanks. It was a small redhead, curled up into a ball, arms around her knees, her blotchy, tear-stained face bearing evidence of her grief, but at least relaxed now as she slept. His heart sped up and he instinctively glanced toward Ron’s four-poster bed, even though he knew it was empty. Ron and Hermione had staked out a spot on the common-room sofa and had slept there just as soundly as he slept up here. He knew this because during that brief hour of wakefulness, when Kreacher had brought him food, he had also filled him in on the whereabouts of his two friends. He supposed they were up now, and moving around, but he could tell the bed hadn’t been slept in. He moved his feet again, carefully this time, against the pull of the blankets, but despite his care, she sat up instantly, pointing her wand at him, a look of terror on her face that clenched Harry’s stomach again. Her face relaxed again quickly as she realized where she was. “Harry.” “Ginny.” He felt his lips curl into a smile despite everything. He reached out and brushed her cheek with his thumb. She pressed her face against his hand and then grabbed it with both of hers. “I want to talk to you, Harry Potter. And I’m trying to decide whether to hex you now or later for that stunt you played yesterday.” “I want to talk to you, too, Ginny. And you can hex me whenever you want, as long as I can go to the bathroom first. It’s been a few hours.” She giggled lightly and scooted off his feet so he could get out of his blankets. When he returned a few minutes later, Ginny was sitting on the edge of his bed with something in her hand. She was looking down at it with a peculiar expression on her face and Harry approached her a bit nervously, unsure what had happened. She looked up at him and held out her hand. “You got it open.” It was the Snitch, now even more tired and battered than it had looked all those months ago when they had all wondered why Dumbledore had left it to him. He was startled to see it, unsure of where she had found it. But then he vaguely remembered pulling it out of his pocket when he had fallen onto the bed the first time and been unable to sleep on his right side because of the lump it made in his robes. “Yeah, I did. I . . . needed what was in it. So, I whispered to it, and —“ He stopped then, unsure if he wanted to explain about the Resurrection Stone right at that moment. Everything was too new and raw against his nerve endings. “Flesh memory.” Ginny’s whisper was so quiet Harry hardly heard it. “What?” he asked, wondering what she meant. “The Snitch had a flesh memory. It wouldn’t have opened for anyone but you.” “No, I guess not. I, I kissed it, sort of, and it opened.” Ginny looked up at him, her eyes bright, and he could see the shimmer of unshed tears in them. “Like me.” Again, Harry heard what she said but didn’t understand what she meant. He must have looked a little confused because she smiled and reached out for him, pulling him to her and linking their fingers together. “Once you touched me, Harry, I was yours.” He thought for a minute or two about that, settling down next to her on the bed, his leg pressing against hers, marveling in the warmth and happiness he always felt when she was near him. “But Michael and Dean-“ She shook her head. “Way back, Harry. When I was only 11. You picked me up and carried me and rescued me. And I knew right then that there would never be anyone else. Not really.” “I was an idiot, wasn’t I?” He had asked her that the year before, lamenting about the loss of months and years when they could have been together. She shook her head again. “Not an idiot. You never knew Snitches had flesh memory, but that didn’t change the fact they do. And even though you didn’t know I was waiting, it didn’t change the fact I was. But when you were ready, I was here. And I’m not going anywhere.” He realized at that moment again what he had realized when he saw Ginny with her mother after the battle, time was no longer his enemy but his friend. The months and years he had lost with Ginny while he was at Hogwarts were now his again; a future he had never dared imagine could now be claimed. “Good. I don’t want you to. But I hope you’re hungry, because I am, and I was just about to have Kreacher bring me some breakfast.” They smiled at each other and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and kissing her hair. He had a lot to tell her and he wanted to hear about the things she had seen and heard and thought for the past year also, but that could wait. There was plenty of time for everything. |
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