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SIYE Time:20:42 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: 276976; Chapter Total: 15698
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
Warning: there is some violence in this scene (i.e. Harry and Ginny have a duel). The ideas for part of this chapter were taken from Battlestar Galactica’s Season 3.

Also, this chapter is dedicated to Rutzy/NYC10016 who said, "Hey, write something where Harry and Ginny have a big fight and then fall in love..." I'm not sure this is what she meant, but I gave it a shot for such a loyal reader and friend!




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Chapter 21



Six months later:

Ginny sighed with satisfaction as she took in the scene below her. A raised section was marked off with ropes in the middle of the recently expanded DA training room. Students were crowed around the platform cheering on two duellists who were facing each other in the ring, their wands out. A bell sounded and the Ravenclaw acted first. Ginny scoffed. His opponent was a typical Slytherin who was weighing all the odds before acting. The fight was on, and the light from yellow spells flashed in the room.

The competition had been Dumbledore’s idea. He’d enthusiastically explained it to Harry and Ginny before Christmas, and they’d announced the Duelling Competition at the first DA meeting after the New Year. Students submitted their names and duelling pairs were matched up randomly. The tricky part was that along with their opponents being selected randomly, each pair could only use the same spell to duel against each other. Dumbledore himself had selected a variety of minor spells and hexes and tossed them into a bright purple hat that Ginny suspected he actually wore sometimes. After each pair was announced, the headmaster would reach into the hat and draw out which spell they would use. The fight was over when someone either lost their wand or was down for five-counts. It was an excellent way for students to learn the different ways to use a minor spell effectively.

Ginny was currently standing on a balcony Dumbledore had constructed for the professors to watch the duelling. She hadn’t put her name in yet, and she wasn’t sure she would.

“Are you going to duel, Ginny?”

Ginny turned at the voice of her headmaster. Professor Dumbledore was standing next to her, his twinkling eyes watching her over his glasses.

“I don’t know, Professor. I thought about submitting my name a little later.”

“I see Harry has been selected to duel Mr. Malfoy.”

Ginny grimaced. She didn’t think anyone could have tampered with the way the pairs were selected, but it was quite a coincidence that Harry had been matched up with his school rival.

“I think Harry will beat him,” she said firmly. “What do you think, Professor?”

“I think it quite interesting that, despite the obvious animosity between you and Harry these past months, you still choose to back him in a fight.”

She flushed. “Well, Harry is an excellent fighter,” she stammered. “It’s just logical that he would beat him.”

Dumbledore tilted his head and looked her. “May I speak frankly, Ginny?”

She nodded. “Of course, Professor.” Dumbledore’s eyes were kind, but there was a steely edge to his voice that she could not ignore.

“I would never presume to interfere in the private relationships of my students,” the headmaster said. “But this disagreement between yourself and Harry is of great concern to me.”

Ginny’s eyes flashed. “I don’t see how-”

“Ginny, Ginny,” Dumbledore said in a placating tone. “Do not think that I am placing blame anywhere.” He laid a hand on her shoulder. “I will be completely honest with you – it’s what you are always asking of me, correct?”

She nodded silently.

“You and Harry need each other,” he said frankly. “Whatever has happened between you, you must find a way to resolve it. Voldemort wins every day the two of you withhold your friendship. I know you have fought before but this one seems to be -” his eyes searched her face, “- particularly devastating. And if it ruins your friendship forever, then Tom Riddle will have his victory. He wishes to destroy you both but at this rate you will destroy yourselves – he only has to wait you out.”

His words were harsh, but his tone, his manner, and the way he squeezed her shoulder in an attempt to soften the blow brought tears to her eyes. Ginny was so tired of fighting with Harry. She was tired of the cruel words and the spiteful way they’d been treating each other. She was tired of the guilt that ate at her every night and of the hole in her heart where he used to live. He was angry with her because she had done something unforgivable, and she was angry with him because he couldn’t forgive her. She just wanted her best friend back.

“I did something really horrible, Professor,” she confessed softly. She blinked furiously to stop the tears that threatened. “And I don’t know if he’ll ever forgive me for it. He’s just so angry with me.”

Dumbledore’s grip on her shoulder tightened. “Then you must find a way for him to release his anger. To let go of it.”

“I’ve tried-” she began, but the Headmaster cut her off by shaking his head.

“Not hard enough,” he insisted. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been treating each other. He’s itching for a fight. He wants to hurt you, the way you’ve apparently hurt him.”

“He has been hurting me! Every day!”

“Well it’s evidently not been enough,” he said dryly. “Whatever you did to him has affected him greatly. I’ve spoken to your professors, and both of your performances have been slipping.”

Ginny took a deep breath. “So what should I do?”

“Ah.” Dumbledore straightened up and looked back down at the duelling circle below them. “I think it will be easier than you think. You’ve yet to submit your name for duelling I believe?”

Ginny followed his eyes down to the duellists on the floor. “Yes, as I said, but what -“

“Mr. Potter must duel Mr. Malfoy once this round is over,” he said. “But there is nothing in the rules that says the same person can’t duel twice in the same day.” He glanced back at her. “The box where you submit your name, it will be empty after the next round. If there are only two names submitted, the box will automatically match them up.”

Ginny stared at her professor. She wasn’t stupid but it was hard to understand what he was trying to orchestrate. Dumbledore was suggesting she and Harry duel each other. But – oh…wait a minute…that wasn’t half-bad. Harry was so angry with her he probably wouldn’t hold back his aggression.

Ginny straightened up from the balcony railing. It might not work, but she had to try. Now she just had to convince Harry to beat her up.

******

Harry bounced lightly up and down on his toes waiting for his duel with Malfoy to begin. Ron considered it poetic justice the two were paired to duel each other, as he was confident Harry would “kick the ferret’s arse.” Hermione had smiled encouragingly, but Harry had seen the worry in her eyes.

He was pretty confident he could take Malfoy, but the Slytherin was grinning with a certain amount of glee on the other side of the duelling ring so there was no telling what he had planned. They’d drawn the stunning curse, and Harry was grateful it wasn’t something more lethal. Although a well-aimed stunning curse could hurt pretty badly.

The bell to begin the match sounded ,but Harry remained where he was, waiting to see if Malfoy would act first. They eyed each other across the ring. Malfoy had a cocky smile on his face, and Harry was tempted to smile right back.

Malfoy was not a member of the DA so he had no idea the level of duelling Harry had reached. Fortunately the competition was open to everyone fifth year and above so Malfoy was about to learn a really important lesson.

Harry was tired of fighting the arrogant grin itching to spread over his face so he let the smile come. He’d been itching for a fight for a long time, and he couldn’t think of a better way to get rid of his bad mood other than beating the shite out of Draco Malfoy.

Fortunately or unfortunately – Harry couldn’t decide which – they both chose to act at the same time. He swung out of the way of the stunner Malfoy sent his way and the fight was on.

Five minutes later they were still fighting. Harry had bopped and weaved all over the ring avoiding the onslaught of Malfoy’s attacks. He would never admit it out loud, but the Slytherin was better than he’d anticipated. Harry had withheld from firing as often as Malfoy did – his strategy was to wear Malfoy out physically and then take him down.

Another few minutes later and Harry and Malfoy were both still at it. Anticipation was high in the room – both sides cheering their champions. Harry didn’t notice when Ginny joined the crowd at the ringside, but when Malfoy shot a stunner at him, forcing Harry to drop to the mat to avoid it, his eyes met hers. Time seemed to slow. She was gripping the ropes that surrounded the ring, a fierce look on her face.

“Get up!” She shouted at him over the din. “GET UP! Stop dicking around and GET him, Harry!”

Something familiar in her eyes registered with him and he suddenly felt stronger than he had in weeks. Despite everything, she still believed in him. He could see it written on her face. For one brief moment, it felt like nothing between them had changed – they hadn’t slept together, she hadn’t broken his heart, and they hadn’t spent the past six months wounding each other over and over again.

Power surged into him and Harry quickly got to his feet. Malfoy was strutting like a peacock on the other side of the ring, and he was too late to notice Harry getting to his feet.

Harry yelled the curse and put all the power he’d been storing for the entire match behind it. The red light streaked towards Malfoy and hit him dead centre in the chest. The blond boy fell back; his mouth and eyes open in shock.

The room erupted. Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs exploded in triumph. Harry turned towards the crowd, panting, but grinning widely. He noticed Ron and Hermione cheering louder than anyone else. Ginny was standing off to the side a knowing smirk on her face. He allowed himself a brief moment of wishing. If things hadn’t changed between them this past summer he’d probably be celebrating with her right now.

He hadn’t even thought to look for Parvati, but he eventually noticed her anyway. She was holding court with some of the Gryffindor girls. Harry rolled his eyes before climbing down from the platform. He walked over to the submission box where the winner of each match was required to slide their wand into one of Dumbledore’s mysterious devices that would register the win from the wand’s point of view. Harry wasn’t sure what Dumbledore would use the information for, but he’d said it was standard at any duelling competition.

“You certainly took your time with him,” a wry voice commented behind him.

Harry stiffened, but he did not turn around. He was grateful to her for giving him the final push he’d needed to finish the match, but nothing else had changed between them. Plus, he was afraid that if she saw his face right now, she’d realise just how much he’d needed her to push him.

“I was tiring him out,” he responded. The wand-reading device gave final whir and he removed his wand. But he still didn’t turn around.

Ginny moved to stand beside him. “You know, I haven’t submitted my name for the competition yet,” she said conversationally.

“Oh, really?” He tried not to show interest; truthfully he’d wondered why he hadn’t seen her name up on the wall. It was the first day of the competition though – he figured she was waiting to duel the winners of today’s matches.

“I’ve been waiting for just the right partner.” She spoke in parseltongue. He raised his head in shock as the reason why she’d done so sunk past his thick skull.

Harry couldn’t help himself then, and he turned around to face her. She just looked at him with one eyebrow raised.

“You can’t be serious,” he spluttered at her. “There’s no way I’m duelling you.”

She just raised another eyebrow. “Why? Afraid you’ll lose?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “No, I’m afraid I’ll kill you.”

Ginny shrugged. “You hate me. I would think that would be a plus.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “We are not doing this.”

“I’ve never known you to back down from a challenge, Potter. Or are you just too exhausted from fighting with the ferret?”

It was a low blow. Dammit, she knew just how to push his buttons. Even while he knew her game was to get him mad enough to agree to duel her, he couldn’t stop himself from rising to her bait. It would feel good to wipe that smug look off her face…

Ginny kept her eyes fastened on him while she slowly pulled out her wand and tapped the top of the submission box on the table next to them. A blue light flashed momentarily indicating that her name had just been entered into the competition.

Harry stared at the box. He knew it was empty. If he submitted his name now, they would be automatically matched up. Before he could stop to think about why Ginny was so anxious to duel him, he found himself picking up his wand and tapping the box.

Another blue light and a soft gong echoed as the names “G. Weasley vs. H. Potter” appeared on the magical scoreboard Professor McGonagall had hung in the room.

The room fell silent. Students alternated between staring at the board and craning their necks to look at Harry and Ginny who were glaring at each other by the submission table. Everyone knew about their fight of course, it’d been the talk of the school for months; so everyone knew this duel was about a lot more than a friendly competition.

Another soft gong and the name of hex they would be using against each other appeared next to their names on the scoreboard: the Punching Hex. Several people gasped and most of the Gryffindors groaned.

Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley were about to beat each other into a bloody pulp.

*******

The crowd was alive with energy and anticipation was practically sparking in the room. Harry and Ginny stood on either side of the duelling ring, their backs to each other as they each listened to last minute advice from their friends.

“You can’t hold back, Harry,” Ron was saying. “She’ll be counting on you not wanting to hit a girl.”

“He’s not going to hold back,” Hermione warned Ginny. “He’s never held back before.”

“Just get out there and end it quickly. I don’t fancy watching you or my sister beating each other up.”

“I can’t fathom why you’re doing this, but I hope you know what you’re doing,” Hermione told Ginny anxiously.

Ginny ignored her and did a few warm up stretches, rolling her shoulders and twisting her torso back and forth rapidly. They’d had thirty minutes to prepare for the match, and she’d used most of that time running back to Gryffindor House so she could change into a tank top and some stretchy cotton pants that would allow her to move easily.

Ginny was actually pretty terrified. Not of getting hurt, at least not physically. She could take anything Harry could dole out. She was pretty confident she could even best him. No, she was afraid of what she had done to him. Afraid that nothing between them would ever be right again, that this fight would solve nothing. Afraid that she had lost him forever.

They turned around to face each other at the same time. Harry had changed clothes too, and Ginny appreciated the stony look on his face. It looked like he would be taking this seriously; she was grateful for that. She chanced a look up at the galley where Dumbledore was watching. The Headmaster’s eyes were hard and his mouth was tight with concentration. Apparently she wasn’t the only one feeling the tension in the room.

The signal to begin sounded, but neither one of them moved. Harry focused on Ginny. Everything else disappeared. There was only she and he and this fight between them. He watched her for any sign of movement that would indicate she was going to make her move.

When it came, she moved so fast he barely saw her flick her wand. She caught him off guard, and his head snapped to the side as her punching hex caught him on the cheekbone. He cursed and fired back, but she spun away to her left and the hex was absorbed by the magical barrier the surrounded the ring and protected the spectators.

Harry gathered himself and tried to calm down. It wouldn’t do to attack her in anger, he would make silly mistakes. His eyes tracked her around the duelling platform. They were circling each other like panthers. He counted to three and attacked. His wand moved like lightning as he fired punch after punch after punch. She avoided the first three but the fourth caught her in the mouth and Harry’s eyes widened when he noticed that he’d drawn first blood.

A few minutes later he was ready to concede that he might have made a crucial mistake in his original attack. Even though he’d wounded her, Ginny had just grinned, wiped the blood from her lip with the tip of a finger and slitted her eyes like a cat’s. She then went into a series of moves that had him dancing around the ring to avoid the hexes. More often than not her hexes hit their target, and Harry felt like he’d just been pounded by several fists. His jaw and abdomen ached.

“C’mon, Harry,” Ginny sneered at him. She bounded away while he caught his breath. She held her arms out to both sides, bouncing on her tip toes, her wand clenched in her right fist. “Afraid to hit a girl?”

She moved her wand again and he felt a punch hit his shoulder. He stumbled back and hit the side of the ring as she moved closer, her wand pointed at him menacingly. “Stop holding back, Harry. You know you’ve wanted to hit me for months. Here’s your chance.”

She stopped advancing on him and titled her head. “Or are you just this weak? Maybe the fight with Malfoy wore you out more than you thought, hmm? Or maybe I’m just this good.” She fired at him again, and his head snapped back when her punching hex hit the underside of his jaw.

Something snapped inside of him. Later, he would remember the moment and examine it, deciding that he had been holding back until then; that he hadn’t been able to bring himself to really hit a girl – even if it was Ginny. But her taunting and sneering and constant onslaught of hexes finally pushed him past being a gentleman.

He pushed himself up from the ropes with a snarl and whipped his wand through the air in a slashing motion. The punching hex hit in her the stomach and her body bowed for a brief moment while her muscles absorbed the impact. He didn’t wait for her to recover however and fired off another hex, this one striking her across the cheekbone; and then another that hit her jaw; and another one that pummelled her shoulders; and then back down to her abdomen. He soon had her backed into a corner where he fired hexes so fast that she put up her hands up to block her face, and he rained magical fists down on her arms and her chest.

Every time his hexes struck home, he felt a jolt of something he could not name. It felt good to hit her. He put six months worth of frustration, anger and hurt behind each spell and each time the spell hit, he felt a little bit of the emotions he’d been stock-piling release themselves.

He stopped his onslaught and took a few steps backwards. Ginny remained hunched over, gasping for breath as she tried to stand up straight. She took a few steps towards him, and he fired another hex that hit her across the face and knocked her to the mat.

The crowd gasped, but Ginny managed to push herself back up onto her hands and knees, her red ponytail falling over her head as she struggled to get to her feet. Her friends on the sidelines screamed at her to get up while Harry yelled at her from the centre of the ring.

“C’mon! Get up! You talked me into this and we’re going to finish it!”

Ginny lifted her head and saw Colin shouting encouragements at her. He was standing next to Hermione who was watching her with pleading eyes. She wondered if Hermione wanted her to stay down so the fight would be over or if her friend wanted her to get back up and finish. She didn’t care. Ginny Weasley had never backed down from a fight, and she wasn’t about to start.

She shifted her weight onto her right hand and lifted her wand with her left to fire a low hex towards Harry. The powerful punching hex hit him in the knee, and he fell backward with a loud thump onto the mat. She could see that she’d knocked the wind out of him, and she used the lull to pull herself up onto two feet.

Parvati was standing in the centre of the crowd, wringing her hands while she watched Harry and Ginny duel. She wasn’t sure what this was about – she and Harry had a pretty casual relationship, and he barely spoke to her about important things. She had no idea why he and Ginny had been fighting since last summer. But she wasn’t stupid – she knew that whatever was going on inside the duelling circle was significant. And even though they were beating each other up, for a brief moment, Parvati was envious of Ginny Weasley. She doubted Harry would ever care enough about her to treat her as his equal.

“What in the bloody hell is going on?” She heard a gasp next to her and turned to see that Dean had finally arrived. He’d missed most of the tournament and hadn’t known that his girlfriend had challenged Harry Potter to a duel.

“What does it look like?” she shouted back to him over the wildly cheering crowd.

“It looks like they’re trying to kill each other!” he yelled back.

Indeed it did. Both duellists had finally made it to their feet and were shooting spells at each other that were hitting their mark more often than not. They seemed to be tiring and could barely stagger around the ring to avoid their opponent’s punching. Their faces and mouths were bloodied, and Parvati could see bloody places on their exposed skin where magical punches had been hard enough to cut.

“That’s one perspective!” she said to Dean. Their eyes met and a look of shared understanding passed between them. Parvati wondered if was as obvious to the rest of the school that Harry and Ginny had never really belonged to either one of them. They belonged only to each other and always had.

Harry was tiring, and his only consolation was that he could see Ginny was tiring too. They were only half-heartedly avoiding each other’s hexes at this point; they seemed to content to beat each other bloody instead.

He fired a hex that hit her in the shoulder, the force of it spinning her around. She lurched back to face him and shot a punch at his ribs that made him wheeze. Harry’s hand was sweaty and possibly covered in blood, but he managed to maintain his grip on his wand. The match wasn’t over until someone lost their wand or was knocked out for five-counts. And once they’d been matched up, they’d entered into a magical contract. They had to duel until there was a clear winner.

Harry could no longer hear the crowd shouting and cheering for them. He didn’t notice Ron and Hermione standing with white faces on the sidelines or that the rest of their friends had stopped cheering long ago. He only saw Ginny. She was a mess – they both were. He could taste the blood in his mouth and every muscle in his body felt like it had been pummelled into exhaustion. One of his eyes was nearly swollen shut and his lips were so puffy he wasn’t sure he would ever talk again.

Ginny’s white tank top was streaked with red where she’d used the fabric to wipe at the blood and sweat on her face. He could see that she was favouring her right side. He’d probably bruised her ribs at some point – maybe even broken them. He should have been devastated that they’d been able to hurt each other this much, but a part of him knew that this had been a long time coming. He felt surprisingly free. For the first time since they’d slept together he wasn’t so angry anymore. And once the anger was gone, the only thing left was how much he missed his best friend…and how much he still loved her.

Their eyes met. There were tears on her face, but it was nearly impossible to see them past her two swollen eyes and her bloody nose. He hadn’t looked her fully in the eyes in a long time, and when he saw the emotion swimming in those chocolate brown orbs, he felt something break inside.

Ginny knew she had started this fight because she’d hoped they could physically beat the hate and anger out of each other. What she did not realize until it was too late, was that with each blow from Harry’s wand, the anger, pain, fear, self-loathing were being chipped away and all the barriers being torn down until she was left with the raw truth. A truth she’d buried deep inside her heart for a long time: She’s loved Harry Potter all along. Her feelings for him…her love…was bigger than both of them. She was tired of escaping and ignoring and denying it; and once those things were gone, she was left with only acceptance.

Another truth also revealed itself in this moment: Harry Potter loved her. It was written on every inch of his face…and probably always had been. She’d just been too stupid to believe in it. She’d let Tom tell her it wasn’t worth fighting for.

Their shared, twisted past had transformed them and strengthened the bond between them in a profound way. If they could still feel this much anger, the love in their hearts must be huge. It was something she knew all too well because in her heart they co-existed. The past had been a test of their love and it would endure anything she could put in its path — even Voldemort. Maybe it was time she gave up resisting it.

Ginny swayed towards him, stumbling to catch herself as she fired another wild hex that flew over his head. He staggered to reach her and caught her in his arms. Her wand clattered to the mat and a loud gong sounded in the area as the magical scoreboard declared Harry Potter as the winner.

Ginny wrapped her arms around him and let her head prop itself on his shoulder. Harry’s legs were spread wide to support their weight, but he was exhausted and so he couldn’t help but lean back into her. They held each other up, their combined weight pushing against each other to keep the other standing.

“I missed you,” she breathed.

Harry squeezed her tighter, his head buried in her neck. He felt rather than saw a drop of his blood splash to her shoulder. “I missed-” He had to stop and swallow the lump in his throat.

“I missed you too.”

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