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SIYE Time:22:39 on 28th March 2024
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Need
By iluvfanfics

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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: 276981; Chapter Total: 15426
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
A/N: Assuming they all get approved at the same time, I'm posting this Chapter and the next three simultaneously. This is because: a.) I'm not evil and I didn't want you to have to wait to find out what happens at the end of this Chapter and Chapter 20; and b.) After Chapter 20 you will really hate me...but after Chapter 21 you will hopefully love me; so I'm going for a love/hate thing here. :) Anyway, thanks to all the readers and reviewers who are still enjoying this and take the time to tell me so. We've still a way to go until the end of the story -- our journey's not over yet! Happy Reading!




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Chapter 19

Harry stood in the centre of the smallest bedroom at No. 4 Privet Drive and surveyed the sparse furnishings. The thought that he had managed to pack everything he owned into his Hogwarts trunk was a little disconcerting, but not surprising. He’d done a thorough cleaning of the area and had thrown away lots of junk he’d been holding onto for years simply because they were things he could say he owned. The fact that they were broken or hand-me-downs from Dudley hadn’t really mattered to a lonely kid. And after he started attending Hogwarts he’d been loath to throw anything away that was evidence of the wizarding world existing outside this house.

Damn, he couldn’t wait to get out of this place.

This summer hadn’t been as bad as the rest. The Dursleys had been thoroughly scared by Dumbledore’s explanation of what could happen to them if they stayed in their home after Harry left. Most of the past month had been spent packing, unpacking and repacking the essentials they deemed worthy of relocating. Uncle Vernon seemed to blame Harry personally for the trouble, but Aunt Petunia had been so distracted she’d barely scheduled any cleaning chores for him. Harry had spent his days outside as much as possible and locked inside his room whenever he was forced to come inside. He ate the food Mrs. Weasley sent with Ron and Ginny’s letters and generally avoided the Dursleys whenever he could.

A soft pop in the room announced Dumbledore’s arrival. The Headmaster smiled genially at him and held up a tin cup they were using as a Portkey. It was nearly midnight, and the departure had to be timed exactly right if Harry was going to escape before Voldemort showed up.

“How are you?”

Harry shrugged. “Indifferent. It’s weird to think I won’t ever come back here, but I’m certainly not upset about it.”

“That’s understandable,” Dumbledore said dryly. “Although one must not forget the experiences of one’s youth. I daresay someday you will be able to see how they shaped you into the man you are becoming.”

He motioned for Harry to place a finger on the Portkey. “I’ve timed it so it’s set to go off the very second after the clock strikes midnight. You know the protection will end as soon as you no longer call this place home?”

Harry nodded and placed a finger on the cup. “And you’re sure the Burrow is safe enough? I don’t want to cause trouble for the Weasleys.”

“It’s as safe as I and others can make it,” Dumbledore assured him. “And I assure you, that’s saying something.”

Harry grabbed the handle of his trunk firmly and Dumbledore took Hedwig’s empty cage; she’d already flown onto the Burrow. The clock downstairs had barely struck midnight when the Portkey went off, and Harry disappeared from Privet Drive forever.

They arrived on a hill overlooking The Burrow and Dumbledore shoved the cup back into his pocket. “Quickly,” he said. “We must get inside the wards as quickly as possible.”

Harry knew that only he and Dumbledore could see the ramshackle house they were hurrying towards; the whole area was Unplottable to both muggles and wizards. Fortunately, Dumbledore had already performed the necessary enchantments on Harry and Hedwig so they could find the place.

As they passed the large oak tree that signalled the edge of the Weasleys’ property, Harry felt a tingle on his skin as they passed through the wards and other protections. It was the same feeling he got when he arrived on the grounds of Hogwarts. Dumbledore relaxed, and they soon arrived at the back porch.

Mrs. Weasley threw it open before they reached the door and beamed at them through the porch light.

“Come in, come in,” she cried, hugging Harry and beaming at Dumbledore. “Let’s have a look at you. Goodness, you’re skinny. Are you hungry, dear? I’ve got a lovely stew on. Sit down, and I’ll fix you a bowl.”

Harry, who knew better than to protest, thanked her gratefully before dragging his trunk to the edge of the stairs and returning to the kitchen table. He was pleased to see that Ron had waited up to see him.

“Hey, mate,” Ron grinned, clapping him on the back. “Everything go okay?”

“Couldn’t have been easier,” Harry said, taking the seat next to him. “How’s the summer so far?”

He shrugged. “Quiet and hot mostly. Hermione’s coming in a few days. Happy Birthday, by the way.”

“Oh,” Harry said, surprised. “I’d almost forgotten. Thanks.”

“Forgotten? You’re seventeen now! You can do magic!”

“Eat up, Harry,” Mrs. Weasley set a large bowl of beef stew in front of him and handed him a spoon. “And just because one is seventeen doesn’t mean one can do unnecessary magic, Ronald.”

Ron rolled his eyes when she turned back to the stove and went back to his own bowl of stew.

“Where’s Ginny?” Harry was surprised she hadn’t been there to greet him.

“Asleep. She’s been sleeping a lot lately.”

“Really?” Harry looked up at Ron. “Wonder why?”

Ron eyed him shrewdly. “I’m pretty sure you know why. But maybe it’ll be better now that you’re here.”

It was the first time Ron had ever even halfway-acknowledged Ginny’s habit of sleeping in Harry’s bed. Harry knew that Ron had seen her in his bed at Hogwarts on several occasions after she’d had nightmares, but he’d never said anything. Harry assumed he had preferred not to think about his sister and best mate sharing a bed – even if it had been innocent.

Harry finished his stew quickly. Dumbledore left after Mrs. Weasley had forced a slice of cake and a cup of tea on him. He and Ron carried his trunk up the stairs to Percy’s old room where Harry had stayed the past few summers and halted outside the closed door.

“Any word on Percy?” Harry asked.

Ron’s face tightened. “No. Although I don’t think things are going well. Fudge is a bloody idiot and Percy refuses to abandon him. Dad sees him sometimes at the Ministry, but doesn’t talk about it. Mum still sends him letters, but he never writes back, the poncy git.”

He yawned and punched Harry lightly on the shoulder. “Glad you’re here. See you in the morning.”

“Thanks, Ron. ‘Night.” Harry grabbed the handle of his trunk and entered the room, dragging the trunk behind him. He stowed it in the corner and, grinning to himself, pulled out his wand and unlocked the trunk using magic. It felt good to be seventeen.

Undressing quickly, Harry pulled on his pyjama bottoms and left off his shirt. It wasn’t quite hot in the room, but there was a nice breeze blowing through the open window. He turned to pull the covers back on the mattress and froze when he saw a lump underneath the covers; someone was in his bed.

“Lumos.” Harry lifted his wand and wasn’t surprised to see Ginny asleep in the narrow twin bed. She was sleeping on her side, her cheek resting on her hands and her knees drawn up to her chest. He sighed and squatted down beside the bed, holding the light over the bed so he could see her.

She was so beautiful like this she took his breath away. He cursed the opportunities he’d wasted to tell her how he really felt about her. He’d nearly told her on the train coming back from Hogwarts and then later when they were saying goodbye. He’d initially told himself that he would explain things to her when he arrived at the Burrow, but over the past month, a chilling thought had occurred to him – one that made him even more reluctant to tell her how he felt. If Voldemort found out that he loved her, Ginny would be in even more danger than she already was. The evil git had already made moves to grab her, and if he knew Harry loved her...well, the possibilities were too terrifying to think about.

And if, by some miracle, Ginny returned his feelings, Voldemort would stop at nothing to separate them. Destroying the union of the Boy-Who-Lived and the girl he’d tried to possess would be far too tempting for him. Harry would rather keep Voldemort’s attention focused on world-domination.

He brushed a stray piece of hair back from her face, and she stirred, but didn’t wake. He was scared to death of losing her. There was no other excuse for it; he was a bloody coward.

He stood up, crossed to the other side of the bed and lifted the covers to crawl in behind her. He settled himself on the corner of the pillow she’d left him and dragged her flush against him, curling his body around hers. Inhaling the familiar, but sorely missed, smell of her hair, he drifted off to sleep.

*******

Ginny awoke slowly with the most delicious feeling of warmth wrapped around her. She shifted and stretched against the hard chest at her back, pressing her head into warm flesh.

“Go back to sleep, Fury,” a voice murmured sleepily in her ear and Ginny’s heart lurched when she realized it was Harry who was in bed with her. Well that made sense; it was Harry’s bed after all.

“Harry!” She turned to face him in the tiny bed and threw her arms around him.

“Mmm…I’m happy to see you too, now go back to sleep. S’too early to be up.” He pulled the covers up around his shoulders and settled back against the pillows.

“Sorry, I’m awake now,” she said regretfully. She kissed him on his temple and climbed out of bed.

“Now the bed is cold,” he whined.

“I’m sure you’ll survive,” she said dryly. “Don’t sleep too late; Mum will probably make you a giant birthday breakfast.”

Harry opened one eye. “Breakfast?”

Ginny took a large sniff of the air. “Smells like pancakes, bangers and bacon. Better hurry up or Ron will eat it all.”

Harry snorted and threw the covers back. “He’s like the human shovel.”

Ginny waited while he put on a shirt, and then he followed her downstairs. A chorus of “Happy Birthday” greeted him and he smiled when he noticed the small pile of presents near his plate. He opened them while shoving in forkfuls of Mrs. Weasley’s delicious pancakes. Ron had gotten him some Quidditch gloves, and Ginny had framed a picture of the two of them. He fingered the frame while drinking his pumpkin juice. Colin had taken it at the end of last term. He and Ginny were by the lake and he was giving her a piggyback ride. They were laughing and smiling into the camera, and he was reminded of a certain picture of his parents that Hagrid had given him a few years ago.

Hagrid had sent some teeth-breaking rock cakes and a wicked looking knife that snapped down into its handle. While they were eating, Hermione’s gift arrived; as predicted, it was a book but Harry appreciated the thought. The best gift was from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley; they gave him a watch similar to the one they’d given Ron last year when he’d turned seventeen.

“It’s a traditional gift when a man comes of age,” Mr. Weasley told him, and Harry was speechless at their thoughtfulness. He thanked them with a lump in his throat, and Mrs. Weasley turned back to the stove, a suspicious shining in her eyes.

“Mum and Dad want to give us a joint birthday party,” Ginny informed him later. “You’re seventeen now and I’ll be sixteen, let’s take ‘em up on it and have a dance party.”

Harry was doubtful, but she soon talked him into it. “There nothing else to do around here,” she reasoned. “We might as well invite a few friends over and let Fred and George spike the punch for a laugh.”

The party was planned for two weeks from Friday. Ginny had been busy making a list of invitations to send out, and she gave it to Harry for approval. It was good mix of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws and – Harry was surprised to see – a few of Ginny’s friends he hadn’t known were in Slytherin. She shrugged when he asked her about it and said, “They’re nice girls. Just because they’re Slytherins doesn’t mean they can’t be friendly.”

Harry ignored that and continued perusing the list. He stopped when he got to Dean Thomas’ name.

“Dean Thomas?” he read slowly. “I thought you guys broke up.”

“We did,” she admitted. “But he’s been writing me a lot and well, I might give him another chance. He’s really sorry, and it’s possible I overreacted a bit.”

“I see,” Harry said stonily. He handed back the list and said. “It’s fine.”

Harry’s insides were twisting. If Ginny got back with Dean, the decision of whether or not he should tell her his feelings had changed would be taken out of his hands. He absolutely would not make a move on another man’s witch.

“I put Parvati on there as well,” she said helpfully. “Are you guys official now?”

It was his turn to shrug. “Dunno. I haven’t asked her if that’s what you mean. But she wrote me a few times last month. She’s all right, I guess.”

An odd look came over Ginny’s face, but she shook it off and turned back to Harry’s desk to begin addressing the invitations. Hedwig and Pig would deliver the invitations tomorrow.

He left her in his room, busily addressing hand-addressing envelopes, mumbling under her breath about the bloody age restrictions on magic. He could offer to do the charm for her, but it was far more entertaining to watch her suffer.

*******

“Shite.” Ginny slammed the lid of her school trunk shut. “Harry, I’ve lost my potions text, help me find it, won’t you?”

“Gin, we still have nearly three weeks before we have to go back. Why are doing homework?”

She rolled her eyes. “I promised Hermione that I would have my potions essay finished by the time she arrives. I was trying to get a jump start on it.”

“Since when do we listen to Hermione about doing our homework?” Harry grumbled. But he rolled off her bed and lifted up the bed ruffle to peer underneath. “Blimey. And I thought my room was a mess.”

“I listen to Hermione since she worked like a dog to help me on my OWLS,” Ginny informed him. Her voice was somewhat muffled as she was on her knees, face first in her closet. Harry took a moment to appreciate her backside before shaking his head and looking back underneath the bed.

It was a myriad of parchments, paperback novels, an old stuffed bunny that didn’t seem to appreciate being woken up and a metal tin whose insides clinked when he nudged it.

“I’m going to go check your room,” Ginny announced. “I might have left it in there the other day.”

She left the room and Harry turned back to the metal tin he’d been in the process of shoving out of the way. The lid had fallen off, and Harry peeked inside. The entire box was full of vials. Most were empty but a few still had a pinkish-grey liquid swirling inside. He scooted back and pulled the tin out with him. He held a full vial up to the light. This looked like-

“What are you doing?” Ginny asked harshly. She was standing in her doorway her potions text clenched in one hand. She stepped hurriedly into the room and shut the door firmly behind her. “Put that back.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, and he examined her face for the signs of what he now suspected. “Why do you have all these vials?” he asked slowly. “What are you taking?”

“They’re for cramps,” she answered defiantly. “Put them away.”

She was lying, and he knew it. “The potion you take for cramps is red,” Harry said. “This potion is pink and grey, just like a dreamless sleep potion.”

Ginny blinked at him in astonishment. “I don’t know which is scarier – the fact that you know what colour potion I take for my period or the fact that you actually know what colour a dreamless sleep potion is supposed to be.”

“This isn’t a joke, Ginny,” Harry said fiercely. “Why have you been using so much dreamless sleep potion? This stuff can be addictive. You know that!”

Ginny deflated under his piercing gaze. Her shoulders slumped, and she stared at her feet. Harry placed the vials back into the tin and put the lid back on firmly. Ginny suddenly inhaled sharply and pivoted to face the door. She drew back her arm and hurled her potions text at the wall as hard she could. It hit with a loud thud, and then slid down the wall to the floor where it lay, its pages moving in the slight breeze that came in through the open window.

Harry sprang up and wrapped his arms around her, knowing Ginny was going to either explode in anger or tears. He held her until she stopped struggling and slumped against him. He took advantage of her momentary weakness to scoop her up and carry her over to the bed where he settled her in his lap and held her silently, waiting for her to confess.

“I’ve been receiving them by owl post from the apothecary in Diagon Alley,” she said finally. Her voice was muffled against his neck. “It’s Tom, he’s been coming almost every night. It’s like he can’t break through when I’m awake, but when I fall asleep, I get nightmares and then suddenly he’s talking to me – even after I wake up.”

“What kinds of things does he say?”

“Horrible things,” she shuddered. “He tells me which families he’s going to kill, what he’s going to do to my family, to you…” Her voice trailed off.

“Sometimes he describes exactly what he’s going to do, and other times he just shows me,” she said finally. “And even though I know it’s not always true, it’s hard to sleep after something like that.”

“I bet it’s sort of like watching one of the Muggle horror movies,” Harry said quietly. “Dudley snuck out once and watched one late at night on television and had nightmares for two weeks afterwards.”

She didn’t respond other than to take a shaky breath and snuggle further into his lap. He held her tighter and tried to ignore how perfect she seemed to fit into his arms.

“Do you remember what you said to me just before that inquiry at the Ministry after your first year?”

Ginny actually did remember, but she wasn’t too keen on being reminded of it right now.

“You said that you were through with letting Tom Riddle or anyone else scare you,” Harry reminded her softly. Ginny lifted her head to look at him. “I reckon letting him stop you from going to sleep is letting him scare you.” Her eyelashes were wet with unshed tears, but her face had a hard, blazing look that he knew all too well.

“Ginny,” he murmured. He leaned down and brushed a chaste kiss on the corner of her mouth. “Please stop taking the potions. He’s got to know that he can’t get to you like that. You can’t let him beat you.”

Ginny huffed and pushed herself away from him. She slid off his lap to sit next to him on the bed and leaned against the headboard. “I don’t know if I can do it,” she said finally, not looking at him.

Harry scoffed. “You’re Ginny bloody Weasley. You can do just about anything you set your mind to. You can do this,” he insisted. “It’ll be tough the first few nights, but use your Occlumency to block him out. He’ll get the hint.”

“So what, Harry? He’ll just find another way to get to me. To you. To all of us!”

“And we’ll fight every one of them,” Harry said firmly. “Now come on. Either you stop taking the potions or I’ll tell your mum.” He grinned at her suddenly. “Or worse, I’ll tell Hermione.”

“Bastard,” Ginny swore at him. She grabbed a pillow from behind her back and smacked it at his face. He laughed, took the pillow from her and used it to cushion his own back against the headboard.

“Fine,” she said resignedly. “But when Tom visits me tonight and I’m a bloody bitch tomorrow, I’m taking it out on you.”

“Fair enough,” Harry conceded. He took her hand in his and squeezed it. “I’ll come over, yeah? If I hear you screaming.”

Ginny’s eyes softened when she looked at him. “Will you do that thing where you rub circles on my back?” She let go of his hand to take his arm and place it around her shoulders. “I love that.”

He laughed again and pulled her tightly against his side. “Yeah,” he said, rubbing his chin on the top of her head affectionately. “I’ll do that. Will you do that thing where you flash your knickers at me and cling to me like a helpless female?”

“Git,” she said, and used her other hand to pinch his side. “I do not cling to you.”

“But you’ll still do the knickers thing?”

Ginny couldn’t help herself, and she laughed at him. “If I flash my knickers at you after a nightmare, I assure you, it’s purely by accident.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed dramatically. “I know. Pity that.” He disentangled himself from her embrace and got off the bed. “A guy can dream though, can’t he?”

He picked up the tin containing the rest of her dreamless sleep potions and tucked it underneath his arm. “I’m taking this with me by the way. If things get really bad you can have another one in a few weeks.”

She looked up at him, a sudden anxious look on her face. “Harry…thanks. For being here.”

He cocked his head at her. “You know better than that,” he chided quietly. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“Yeah,” Ginny admitted with a grin. “But I know how you like to feel appreciated.”

He grinned back at her and leaned over, presenting his cheek to her. “Kiss me,” he demanded.

She complied and Harry closed his eyes briefly when he felt her soft lips against his skin. “Thanks,” he said, straightening up. “I’m going to get Ron for a fly. Why don’t you come out after you’ve worked on your essay?”

Ginny nodded and slid off the bed to retrieve her potions book. She was rummaging back in her school trunk for some parchment when Harry closed the door behind him. After he’d gone, she stopped and rested her forehead on the lid of the propped-open trunk. The emotions caused by his tenderness and the care he showed for her surged up inside her, and she struggled for a few minutes to tamp them down. Once they were locked away, she pulled out a sheaf of unused parchment and settled at her desk with a quill. She heard a loud “whoop!” from outside her window and looked to her left just in time to see Harry and Ron speed past on their broomsticks.

Ginny was struck with the sudden need to fly; to feel the wind blowing through her hair and the freedom that came whenever she was on her broomstick. She sighed and looked back at her homework. Better get it over with and then she could relax all she wanted.

******

“No!”

The strangled cry woke Harry up immediately. He sat up in bed, his heart racing and his ears straining to listen. Ginny. He’d tried to stay awake as long as possible so he could be there when she needed to be woken up from her nightmare, but after 2 a.m., his eyes had closed involuntarily.

“No!” The cry was louder this time, and Harry scrambled to get out of bed. He grabbed his wand, opened his door and padded across the hallway to Ginny’s room, silently thanking Mrs. Weasley for giving him the room closest to hers. He shut Ginny’s door softly behind him and quickly cast a silencing charm on the room.

Ginny was on her back, the sheets twisted around her pale legs, her head tossing back and forth on her pillow. Her face was strained and she was mumbling, probably having a conversation with Tom Riddle. Anger surged up in Harry. She shouldn’t have to go through this night after night. She was his friend dammit (he ignored the part inside him that howled with indignation at the inadequate word) and he hated to see this happen to her.

“Harry,” Ginny whimpered, still asleep. She said something in parseltongue that Harry couldn’t quite catch, and he hurried to her bedside.

He sat down next to her on the mattress and shook her shoulder. “Ginny,” he said gently. “Ginny, wake up.” She didn’t respond and he shook her harder, whispering her name urgently. He smoothed her tangled hair back from her sweaty forehead and said her name louder. “Ginny!”

Her eyes flew open and they scanned the room rapidly before coming to rest on his face hovering over her. Once she recognized him, her face crumpled, and he quickly gathered her to him, holding her tightly against his chest.

“Harry,” she breathed. “You’re here? You’re okay?” The words were strained as if she was trying to hold back a flood of tears.

“I’m fine,” he assured her. He kissed her sweaty temple and discreetly pulled her nightshirt down over her knickers. As much as he enjoyed looking at her bum, this really wasn’t the time for it. Though, a part of his brain had registered the bright red fabric.

Harry rocked her in his arms as she cried softly into his shoulder. He truly hated this for her, especially as he knew what it was like, but he relished these moments when she let him comfort her. She was always so hard, so capable most of the time, that he savoured the moments when she didn’t try to hide her need for him.

“C’mon, lay down on your stomach,” he urged after awhile. She complied, and he stretched out beside her, one hand massaging soft circles on her back. She sighed softly and closed her eyes as his hand traced her shoulder blades and ran down the bumps in her spine. He leaned down again and kissed her temple.

“It’s fine,” he said again. “You are safe, he isn’t here, and I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

She opened her eyes and sniffed. “You’ll stay?”

“I’ll stay,” he confirmed. He set his wristwatch to beep at 6 a.m. so he could sneak back to his room before Mrs. Weasley got up. Things were hard enough without drawing more attention to themselves.

Harry sat up and reached for the bedclothes she’d kicked to the edge of the bed. He untangled them and covered them both up, shifting back onto his side so he could continue to rub her back. Ginny scooted closer to him and closed her eyes again as he settled back onto her pillows.

“I clung like a helpless female again, didn’t I?” she asked quietly.

Harry smiled into the darkness. “Yeah, you did. It was great.”

She snorted into the mattress. “Glad I can feed your manly ego, Potter.”

“I got to see your knickers too. Lovely shade of red by the way.”

She huffed and rolled onto her side, snuggling her back against his chest. He wrapped his arm around her waist and sighed happily before closing his eyes.

“You know you’re the only one I’d ever cling to like that, don’t you?” she said softly.

Ginny felt a feather-light kiss brush the side of her neck. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I know.”

*******

Harry stood in the shadows of the trees behind the Burrow. He watched the dancing couples in front of him with glittering eyes, focusing almost exclusively on one particular couple.

The party was a success. Almost everyone had shown up to Harry and Ginny’s joint birthday party; it had been like a mini-Hogwarts reunion. It was odd to see so many of his classmates outside of school.

Harry growled to himself when Dean’s hands slipped a little further down Ginny’s back. The git had been dancing with her for three straight dances; the last two had been slow songs. Ginny seemed cautious around him, although Dean had made no attempt to hide his eagerness for a second chance.

Harry had danced with her too, but they had been fast dances filled with exhilarated fun. He’d danced the slow ones with Hermione, a beaming Mrs. Weasley, and when he’d exhausted those routes: Parvati.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Parvati – she was pleasant enough. It was that from the moment she’d seen him, she’d acted like they were star-crossed lovers who had been forced to separate for the summer. She assumed they were a couple, even though they had only been on one date. When she had arrived, she had thrown her arms around him and tried to kiss him. He’d escaped her clutches, but barely. By the time he managed to excuse himself, Ron and the twins had been nearly beside themselves with laughter.

Harry took another swig of the Firewhisky in his glass, his gaze swinging back to Ginny. Fred and George had not only spiked the punch, they’d presented him with real Firewhisky insisting it was part of turning seventeen. The first sip had gone down like fire and had nearly burned his insides. By the third sip, his insides were almost numb, and he’d been able to enjoy it.

Eventually the party had gotten too raucous, too crowded, and he had slipped away to watch from a distance. Parvati didn’t seem to notice his disappearance, caught up as she was in her group of friends. Ron and Hermione were wrapped up in each other, and Ginny kept casting anxious glances over the crowd of dancers, peering at the people standing on the edges. He wondered if she was looking for him.

It was while watching her that Harry had understood something: It didn’t matter if she went back with Dean or if the timing wasn’t right for them. Deep down, Ginny was his. She was meant for him; as he was meant for her. No other explanation could possibly make sense. What he felt for her was entirely too big for one person to handle; so it was no wonder that if she felt the same, she was running from it as fast as her fabulous legs could carry her.

His mind flashed back to that night in the Department of Mysteries when Bellatrix had fixed her fanatical eyes on Ginny. Harry had seen the insanity in them, and he’d immediately stepped in front of Ginny. He’d been willing to protect her with his life.

And if he was willing to die for someone then maybe it was time he had the courage to love them as well.

He watched now as she excused herself from Dean and left the dance floor. She walked to a manmade trail Harry knew led to the pond, but that was nearly hidden in the moonlight. With a final look back at the partygoers, she disappeared behind the bushes and down the path.

Harry pushed himself up from the tree trunk and took a final swig of the Firewhisky. He tossed the now empty glass to the ground and went after her, intent on finally growing a pair of balls and forcing the inevitable confrontation – Voldemort be damned.

He was tired of this silent and stoic shit.

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