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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Fluff, General, Romance Warnings: Extreme Language, Sexual Situations Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 725 Summary: Their nightmares and demons bound them together. Their love helped them to survive. Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley knew they needed each other; the trouble was in admitting it. Hitcount: Story Total: 277250; Chapter Total: 15552 Awards: View Trophy Room |
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Chapter 18 A sneaking suspicion was growing in Harry’s mind. It was more of an awakening, like a part of him had been hidden for a long time just waiting for him to acknowledge it before coming out and rearing its ugly head. It had all started after Ginny broke up with Dean. Two nights hadn’t gone by when she showed up in Harry’s four-poster, pale and wan from a nightmare. He’d taken one look at her and pulled her down onto the mattress and in his arms. The next morning, after waking up from what had been the best night’s sleep he’d had in a long time, he’d held her sleeping form and wondered at his irrational anger with Dean for embarrassing her. Because Harry sympathized - just a smidge - with Dean. If he’d found his girlfriend taking a nap on the couch and she’d said some other bloke’s name, he’d probably demand to know what the dream had been about. But it was hard to remember that when it had been Ginny who’d confessed to the whole common room that she suffered from nightmares; something that Harry knew for a fact she tried to keep a secret. He had held Ginny for a long time that morning; he’d watched her sleep safely in the confines of his arms and the privacy of the curtains around his bed and had systematically examined every feeling he had for her. There was friendship certainly, lust (no sense in denying that one); he felt protective of her and happy when she walked in the room. In spite of the fact that she made him spitting mad sometimes, he felt a tenderness for her that he did not feel for Hermione or any other girl he knew. And the thought of anyone, namely Voldemort, taking her away from him so that he was forced to live a bleak existence without her, made his chest ache, his heart pound and his lungs burn as he forced air through them. A bleak existence? Is that what life would be like without her? The answer was an unequivocal yes. And this was when the sneaking suspicion of the actual truth of his feelings revealed itself. If it was true, he’d been a daft prat for an incredibly long time. He didn’t want to tell any of his friends about the new idea that had supplanted itself in his brain; the last thing he wanted to do was publicly admit to what he suspected he felt. But he desperately needed advice. So he decided to talk to the one person who he knew wouldn’t tease him. “Hermione, can I talk to you?” “Of course, Harry.” She closed her book and smiled at him. “What’s on your mind?” “Love,” he said bluntly. “What can you tell me about it?” “Um, well, that depends. What kind of love are you talking about?” He shrugged and sat down next to her. “Any kind, really. Tell me, how did you know you were in love with Ron?” Hermione looked at him shrewdly, but deigned to answer his question. A dreamy look came over her face. “It was the day he tried to hex Malfoy for calling me a ‘mudblood.’ He didn’t think twice, he just pulled out that silly broken wand and fired away.” “When a boy throws up slugs for hours because he was trying to defend you, it’s either love or a weird taste in food. I knew I loved him when I decided that, slugs notwithstanding, he was still the most attractive boy I’d ever met.” “Didn’t know you went in for all that Tarzan and Jane stuff,” Harry commented. She shrugged. “I’ve been surrounded by books and formulas and all things educational since I was a child. Ron chucks logic most of the time and goes for the spontaneous solution.” She eyed Harry, a disturbing glint in her eye. “I don’t always approve, of course, but it’s remarkably refreshing. Dead sexy actually.” Harry shuddered. “I’m sorry I asked.” She laughed and ruffled his hair. “Want to tell me what this is all about?” Harry’s face turned red and he thought of a way to tell her without actually identifying the witch in question. “I um…well…I think I’ve been a blind git for a long time. It occurred to me the other day how thick-headed I’ve been.” He looked at her pleadingly, willing her to understand what he meant without him having to say the words. Once again, the blessedly brilliant mind of Hermione didn’t fail him. He could see that she knew what he meant, and her face softened as she looked at him. “Figured it out, have you?” She patted his shoulder sympathetically. “Maybe,” he confessed. “I’m still working through a few things.” She shifted in her seat to face him. “Can I give you a bit of advice?” “Why does everyone say that to me?” He groaned. “Fine, go ahead.” “Love – it doesn’t make sense,” she told him gently. “So don’t even try to sort it out. Just accept it, embrace it and enjoy it. If you don’t, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” “That,” he stated grimly, “is exactly what I’m afraid of.” ******** The conversation with Hermione helped a little, but Harry barely had time to examine things further. He certainly had no plans to actually do anything about his feelings; what would Ginny do if he did? Probably run the other way. It was his problem, and he would deal with it; cool heads would eventually prevail. The fact that the idea scared the shite out of him also helped. The next two weeks were a blur as the fifth years revised for their upcoming OWLS; Harry barely saw Ginny except when she came to his bed sometimes after a nightmare… though she was always gone by the time he woke up. They had discussed her break-up with Dean late one night when she’d shown up after his roommates had gone to sleep; Ginny said it was less that she didn’t trust him and more about the fact that he’d badgered her into admitting something she wasn’t ready to admit. After her last exam, Ginny escaped from the impromptu celebrations and snuck out to the Quidditch pitch where she jimmied the lock on the broom shed and selected one of the older and seldom-used school brooms. Making it back into the castle, through the hallways and down to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom without anyone noticing the broom in her hand was a stroke of luck, but she had a story prepared just in case. Cautiously, Ginny opened the door to Myrtle’s bathroom and poked her head in. She didn’t hear any sniffling, and the floor was dry so perhaps Myrtle was off haunting the Prefects’ bathroom right now. Grateful no one, not even a ghost, was around to witness what she was about to do, Ginny slipped inside. She crouched on the floor and examined the pipes beneath each sink, looking for the carved snake that would identify the entrance. It didn’t take long to find. She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked nervous; she felt nervous; hell, she was extremely nervous. She’d promised Harry that she wouldn’t do this without telling him first, but hopefully she would back before he knew she had even gone down into the Chamber. This was something she had to do herself. Focusing on the snake etched into the pipe, Ginny hissed the words in parseltongue to open the Chamber. Memories of the last time she’d done this came rushing back; she’d forgotten a good many of them until now and had only seen snippets of them in her nightmares. The sink finished moving and a pipe wide enough for a person to fit through gaped open at her. Ginny took a deep breath and gathered her resolve before placing one leg over the broom handle. Slowly and carefully, she descended into the Chamber of Secrets. ******* Harry and Ron were recovering quite nicely from their final exam when Hermione entered the common room looking perplexed. “What’s wrong?” Ron asked, lifting his head from the couch cushion. “Nothing.” She sat down between them and rested her head on Ron’s shoulder. “I just can’t seem to find Ginny. I wanted to see how her last exam went; she was really worried about it this morning.” “Did you try the Room of Requirement?” Harry asked without opening his eyes. “Yes. And the lake and the Quidditch Pitch.” “The map is up in my room if you want to go get it.” Hermione hesitated, and then said no. “I’ll just see her later at dinner.” But Ginny didn’t show up at dinner. And she wasn’t in the common room when they went back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry tried not to show his growing concern to the other two and quietly went upstairs to look at the Marauders’ Map. He was sufficiently alarmed when Ginny Weasley’s dot did not appear anywhere on the map. He grabbed it and his wand from his bed and rushed back downstairs. “Ginny’s not on the map,” he blurted out, breathless from running down the stairs. He held up the map in his fist. “That means she’s not on the grounds.” “Are you sure?” Hermione asked doubtfully. “Yes, of course I’m sure,” Harry said impatiently. “Here, check for yourself.” He thrust the map at Ron and whirled around to search the common room. “Colin! Have you seen Ginny today?” The blond-haired wizard lifted his head from a game of cards he and some of the other fifth-years were playing. “I saw her at our History of Magic exam,” he said slowly. “But no, I don’t think I’ve seen her since then. Hmm…funny. We had a little celebration after OWLs were over, and I don’t remember seeing her there either.” “Has anyone seen Ginny Weasley today?” There were lots of murmurs from the rest of the table, but the upshot was that no one had seen her after the exams were over. “She’s definitely not on here,” Ron said, his eyes scanning the map frantically. “Do you think Malfoy’s got her? He was after her last year.” Harry felt all the blood rush out of his face. “Hermione, go get Professor McGonagall.” As Hermione rushed off, Harry snatched the map from Ron’s hands and together they pored over every inch of it, hoping her dot would reappear. “It doesn’t make sense,” Harry muttered to himself. “Malfoy is scared to death of her after what she did to him last year. He hasn’t even looked at her this year.” “Maybe it’s someone else,” Ron offered. “She told us that all the Death Eaters knew He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wanted her.” “I think Malfoy was the only one with enough guts to take her. And she took care of him. Besides, no one has bothered her this year. We would have known, wouldn’t we? If someone was after her?” Ron fisted his hands in his hair. “Bloody hell, Harry, this is just like her first year. Ginny’s missing, and I haven’t a clue as how to find her. What kind of brother am I?” Something Ron said clicked in Harry’s brain. Just like her first year. Wait a minute. The conversation he’d had with Ginny a while ago came rushing back. She wouldn’t have, would she? By herself? After she promised? “Of course she would,” he muttered aloud. “Silly little bint.” “What?” Ron stopped his pacing long enough to realize Harry was talking. “I think I know where she is,” Harry said, hurriedly folding up the map and shoving it in his pocket. He took out his wand. “Accio broom!” A split second later, Harry’s Firebolt came zooming towards him, and he grabbed it out of the air. “When Hermione gets back, take her and McGonagall to get Dumbledore and then take them all to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.” “Wait!” Ron said as Harry sprinted for the portrait. “Where’s she gone?” ”To the Chamber!” Harry yelled back. “I think!” “Harry! I’ll come with you!” Ron vaulted after him out of the portrait doorway. “Why would she go there?” “You have to get Dumbledore!” Harry shouted back right before he turned the corner at the end of the hallway. “I’ll leave the sink open for you!” Ron threw up his hands in frustration as he turned the opposite way to head off Hermione and Professor McGonagall. Harry ran for Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, urging his feet to grow wings so he could get there faster. He was pretty sure Ginny had gone down into the Chamber, but he had no idea how long she’d been there. By all accounts, it could have been most of the day. He groaned aloud. There were a thousand things that could have happened to her down there, and they all flashed across his mind, each one worse than the last. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been this scared for someone before. It was a direct contrast to the first time he’d gone down into the Chamber of Secrets to rescue Ginny Weasley; then, he’d been a concerned friend. Now he was a what? A close friend? No. It was more. It always had been. His epiphany of the past few weeks had proven that. He…he loved her. Harry almost stopped still in shock as the words appeared out of nowhere. Considering his upbringing, Harry had never been sure he knew what love was. The closest he’d ever come to it had been the way he knew he felt about Ron and Hermione…and Ginny. But he realized now, in a bright, sweet moment of clarity, that what he felt for Ginny was far different than what he felt for his other friends. He loved her in a different way. He’d known it…but it was the first time he’d admitted it. First time he’d actually said the words out loud. “I love her. I’m in love with Ginny,” he whispered to himself, testing the words on his tongue. They rolled out easier than he thought they would. He didn’t choke on them; they didn’t get stuck in his throat, they simply flowed out of his mouth as if he’d been saying them all along. Bloody hell, he’d been stupid. For so long. He’d always chalked up his attraction to lust; he’d never wanted to consider anything else. Now he realized – he’d been in love with her the whole time; probably since that first time he’d hugged her in the Astronomy Tower back in his third year. All the pieces inside of him aligned and clicked and he knew…he knew. He loved her. He said the words over and over to himself; he couldn’t believe he’d been reluctant to even say them before. Now he couldn’t stop. He chanted him in his head as he ran for Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. The Chamber had closed itself after Ginny had entered, and so he had to waste valuable time hunting for something to prop the entrance open so the others could follow him down. Descending into the Chamber on his broom was a lot easier and cleaner than the last time he and Ron had just jumped down. Navigating the tunnel was a bit tricky, but Harry was so worried he scarcely noticed. Harry slowed his approach as he reached the second entrance. “Open,” he said in parseltongue, and the many locks that kept the door shut clicked open. He shuddered as he stepped through the opening, suppressing the memories of the last time he’d done this. This time there was no reason to assume Voldemort was involved – at least that was what he told himself. He ran down the tunnel towards the familiar stone face of Salazar Slytherin and the pool in front. He smelled the decay of the Basilisk before he saw it; even now, he could hardly believe he’d been able to slay the thing. When he neared the snake, the smell became overwhelming. Where was she? He entered the main part of the Chamber and spun around, looking for the telltale red hair. “Ginny!” He was frantic to find her, but began to doubt himself. He’d been so sure this was where she’d gone. He wished he’d been paying more attention to her the past few days, maybe then she would have told him she was coming down here. He’d been so wrapped up in himself, worrying that she would be able to see that his feelings had changed. “Ginny, answer me!” He demanded. He heard a soft moan behind him and turned around. Ginny sat slumped up against the far wall. “Ginny!” He stumbled towards her, nearly slipping on a puddle of water. “Harry?” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, and he fell down on his knees beside her. She looked up at him blearily. “Harry?” “Oh, Ginny.” He bent over her and was going to take her into his arms until he noticed the bleeding gash on her forehead. “You’re hurt. Dammit, Ginny.” Harry propped her head up in his lap and conjured up a white handkerchief. He dropped his wand on the floor and pressed the cloth to the cut, cursing himself for not learning a few healing spells. He struggled not to yell at her for being so stupid as to venture down here alone. “Don’t be mad at me,” Ginny murmured. Harry almost laughed; she knew him so well. “I’m not mad, Fury. I’m just irritated with you.” “Liar.” Harry lowered his head and kissed her lightly on the lips. “You scared me to death, you silly witch.” “Sorry,” she breathed, and he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her again. “I-I fainted, I think,” she told him. “I was just standing here and it sort of overwhelmed me, you know, the memories and that awful snake.” She touched the gash on her forehead gently. “I must have hit my head when I fell.” She gingerly lifted her head and looked at the Basilisk laying half in and half out of the pool. “Merlin, Harry, how on earth did you kill that thing?” “Luck,” Harry replied grimly. “Otherwise, I have no idea.” He wiped the blood from her face and shifted her weight so that he was holding her torso in his arms. She looked pale and dazed and even though he didn’t think she was in any danger, his heart was still pounding in fear of losing her. Dumbledore’s and Hermione’s advice and even Ron’s subtle hints suddenly made sense. He swallowed the words in his throat and instead asked, “What happened?” She grimaced and tried to sit up. Harry helped prop her against the wall, but kept her cold hands between his. “I just wanted to see,” she said, “you know…like we talked about. I know I promised you I would find you, but I just had to do it myself.” “We can fight about that later,” he interrupted. “What happened when you got down here?” “Well, I nearly threw up on that awful snake,” she gestured weakly to the rotting carcass, “and I think I had some sort of seizure, and its possible Tom screamed and laughed at me in my head.” She shuddered. “Everything came rushing back, only it was real, you know?” She sighed heavily and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Anyway, thankfully, I soon passed out. I have no idea how long I’ve been down here.” “It’s after dinner,” Harry said shortly. “Oh, Harry, I’m sorry. You must have been so worried.” “Terrified,” he managed. “You have no idea.” “Poor Harry,” she murmured, “I don’t deserve you. You care for me very much, don’t you? ” It was as if Fate herself was giving him this chance. He opened his mouth to say the words: I love you. To tell her exactly how much he cared. But he made the mistake of looking down at her; she had a small smile on her face, and her eyes were closed. He felt the words well up in him until she opened her eyes and looked straight at him. “You’re such a wonderful friend, Harry,” she said softly. “Thank you for coming after me.” Harry felt his courage fail as he swallowed the bitter taste that word, “friend,” left in his throat. What if he ruined things? Could he learn to be happy with just being her friend? He sighed and kissed her forehead. “I’ll always come after you, Gin. And yes, I care for you very much.” “Me too.” Harry swallowed heavily, ashamed at his own cowardice. He could sit here in Salazar Slytherin’s Chamber of Secrets beside a giant basilisk he’d killed when he was only 12 years old; but he couldn’t tell the girl he loved how he felt about her. ******* When Ron, Hermione, Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore arrived in the Chamber of Secrets they found Harry and Ginny sitting side by side against a stone wall. Harry was lecturing Ginny fiercely about what she’d done; she had her head on his shoulder, a small smile on her face. “Is it so hard to leave a bloody note?” He was asking hotly. “You scared the lot of us. For all I knew, Voldemort had lured you down here again!” “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “You’re absolutely right.” “Well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” he huffed. “Yup, I learned it well and good,” she said sleepily. “Never going to do it again. I promise.” Harry seemed too involved in his lecture to recognize that Ginny was about to lose consciousness again. Ron noticed though, and he gently scooped his sister up in his arms and began carrying her back towards where she’d left her broom. Her head lolled against his shoulder. “Ron?” "Yeah, it’s me,” he replied. “I’d lecture you too but I think Harry probably covered it all.” She laughed faintly. “He’s so funny.” Ron smiled. “Yeah. But he was really worried about you. We all were.” “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “It was stupid of me. I just thought it would stop the nightmares, you know? Face my fears and all that…” “Did it work?” “I don’t know,” she sighed. “I’ll let you know.” She settled in his arms until he reached her broom. He set her on her feet and Hermione held her up before helping to settle her across Ron’s lap after he mounted. Ron used one arm to hold Ginny against him and the other to guide the broom. “I’ll meet you in the hospital wing,” he told Hermione who nodded and stepped back. She would fly back with Harry. Ron flew Ginny carefully and cautiously back up the tunnel and past the rubble from the cave-in where that git Lockhart had once tried to do a memory charm on him and then began slowly ascending the tunnel that led down from Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. “I thought of him, you know,” Ginny said suddenly. The gash on her head was still bleeding, and Ron wondered just how much blood she had lost. “Who?” ”Harry. I thought of him right before I passed out. Ron…I think I have feelings for him.” ”Course you do, you’re good friends.” They arrived in the bathroom, and Ron flew them out of loo. Picking up speed, he headed for the hospital wing. “No, it’s more,” Ginny said. “It’s more than friends, Ron. But it scares me. I don’t know what to do. Tom hates him, and I’m afraid Harry will get hurt.” She sighed heavily and buried her face in her brother’s chest. Realizing she was a bit delirious and probably would not be saying such things if she was at all in her right mind, Ron decided to say what he had wanted to say for a long time. The chances of her remembering this conversation were slim at best. “You’re in love with him, Ginny,” he said bluntly. “And he’s in love with you. It’s obvious to everyone except the two of you. When you get better, do the rest of us a favour – snog the bloke and put him out of his misery. And Tom Riddle can’t hurt Harry.” “I’ve already snogged him,” she said dreamily. “It was wonderful. But I messed it up. And then I dated Dean, but he wasn’t as good.” Ron shuddered at the thought of his sister and his best friend snogging and decided he didn’t really want to know the details. “Just tell him how you feel, Ginny. Get it over with.” “But I don’t know how I feel,” she protested weakly. “You’re in love with him,” Ron said impatiently. They reached the hospital wing and he dismounted the broom, hefting his sister up in both his arms. He entered the room just before she said, “Maybe” and passed out. ******* Although the wound on her head had bled profusely, it had only needed a few stitches. The bump had given her a concussion, but Madame Pomfrey released her the next afternoon, and a sheepish Ginny returned to the Gryffindor Tower. As Ron had anticipated, Ginny did not remember the details of her conversation with him. She had the feeling she’d said something embarrassing; her brother kept smiling knowingly at her and looking between her and Harry. Harry refused to let her out of his sight; he said it was her punishment for disappearing. She ignored him, of course, and did whatever the hell she wanted now that exams were over. It became a sort of game between them. Ginny would do her best to escape him, and he would find her. He had an unfair advantage in the Marauders’ Map, however, which forced Ginny to nick it once. When Harry caught her, there had been a lovely, high-speed chase through the hallways, and they’d both nearly gotten detention. There’d also been an awkward moment with Dean where he had apologized for his behaviour and asked if he could write Ginny over the summer holidays. She had agreed, but wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to work things out. He was a lot of fun and she cared for him; but something was missing. Before Ginny knew it, it was time to pack her trunk and board the Hogwarts Express. She dreaded saying goodbye to Harry. He had to stay with his Aunt and Uncle again this summer, but only until he turned seventeen. Then, the protection his mother had left him would run out and he would have to find another place to live. Plans had already been made to tighten up security at the Burrow; Ginny knew her brother Bill and the twins had been working on some pretty fancy wards for the house and surrounding grounds. Dumbledore himself had worked on the security surrounding her parent’s land and had made the house Unplottable. Ginny sighed and watched the countryside speed past as they travelled to London. She and Harry were alone in the compartment while Ron and Hermione patrolled the train. Harry had fallen asleep with his head pillowed on her thigh only thirty minutes out of Hogsmeade. She was nearly asleep herself when Harry gave a soft cry in his sleep. Startled, she looked down to find his face twisted in anguish. His head moved back and forth on her lap, and his hands were curled into fists. He gave another cry, and she knew she had to wake him up. “Harry!” She put a hand on his shoulder and shook gently. “Harry, wake up!” He awoke with a gasp and sat up, the top of his head nearly smacking Ginny in the chin as he did so. She reared back, and he just missed her. He sat with his back to her and took a few deep, calming breaths. Eventually she laid a gentle hand on his back. “Harry?” He stiffened when she touched him. “I’m fine,” he said curtly. Ginny dropped her hand. “Well, great then. I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said sarcastically. Harry turned around. “Sorry.” He looked at her then, and Ginny had a hard time deciphering the look in his eyes. They glittered as they had never glittered before. He took her hand, and Ginny gulped because he had never looked at her with this sort of intensity. “Ginny, I-” he stopped. “What?” she urged. “What is it, Harry?” He gripped her hand tighter and took a deep breath. “I need to-” he broke off with a laugh, but it didn’t sound like he found anything amusing. “Never mind. I’m going for a drink of water. Be right back.” He dropped her hand and bolted for the door. Ginny thought she heard him mutter, “I just can’t do it” right before the compartment door slammed shut behind him. She leaned her head against the seat cushion and wondered what had happened in his dream to make him behave so bizarrely. The train ride went quickly after Harry returned. Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna soon joined them and they played several games of Exploding Snap until they felt the train slowing as they pulled into King’s Cross. Ginny grinned when she saw her mother, standing alongside her brother Bill, waving frantically as they descended onto the platform. A series of back-breaking hugs followed, and before she knew it, they’d exited the platform and were faced with a sour-looking lot of Dursleys. Harry sighed when he saw them. “Guess I’d better get this over with.” “It’s only for a month,” Hermione said encouragingly. “We’ll write you everyday.” “Do I have to write back everyday?” he asked warily. She rolled her eyes, and then pulled him into a hug. He hugged her back, whispered something in her ear that made her blush and kissed her lightly on the cheek before turning to Ron. Ginny watched; she was amused at the way the two boys pretended they weren’t going to miss each other. Their hug goodbye was mostly a series of thumps to the back and punches to the arms, but it was obvious they were sad about being separated. When they were done with their odd male ritual, Harry turned to Ginny and Hermione dragged Ron away to say hello to her parents. “I hate that you have to go,” she said miserably. “Me too. But it’s only for a month. I’ll be out of there and back at the Burrow before you know it,” he said tenderly. She stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He responded by hugging her around her waist. He lifted her off her feet, and she put her legs around his waist, wrapping her small form around him until he was the only thing she was touching in the crowded train station. “I’ll miss you,” he mumbled into her hair. “Be safe okay?” ”Of course. I’ll be surrounded by Weasleys. How could I possibly get into trouble?” ”I don’t know, but I’m sure you’ll find a way,” he said dryly. He set her down then, kissing her lightly on the lips as he did so. He was subtle about it, she noticed, and she suspected he didn’t want her mother or Bill to see him do it. They wouldn’t understand such affection. She bit her lip as he stroked the hair out of her face and behind one ear. “You stay safe too, okay? Promise you’ll get the hell out of there the moment you turn seventeen? He’ll probably be waiting you know.” “Dumbledore and I have it all worked out,” he reassured her. “He’s going to come by in a few days and try to convince my Aunt and Uncle to let the Order relocate them for a while too. So maybe it won’t be so bad.” He stepped close again, and mindful of people watching, took her hand and played absentmindedly with her fingers. “Ginny, there’s something I need to- “Come on, Potter!” Harry’s uncle, who’d evidently reached the end of his patience, had stepped away from his family and was glaring at them. Ginny glared back and his Uncle’s face darkened while his Aunt gasped in shock. Harry stifled a chuckle and pulled her around to face the other direction. “I’ll write you, okay?” He kissed her on the forehead and took a dramatic sniff of her hair before grabbing his trunk and walking towards his Aunt and Uncle. “That’s got to last me a whole month! I’m going to have withdrawals!” “I’ll send you a bottle of my shampoo,” she laughed. “Or maybe a lock of my hair!” ”Can’t wait!” he called back. Ginny watched until he disappeared from sight, all too aware of the empty space inside of her that his absence had caused. “C’mon, Ginny,” Ron said, grabbing her arm. “He’ll be fine. Let’s go home.” |
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