|
Breathing | ||||
|
Category: Post-DH/AB, Post-HBP Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Angst, Drama, Romance Warnings: Mild Sexual Situations Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 21 Summary: Maybe it was because Fate made it that way, or because they wanted each other but they couldn't have the other. Maybe it was because the place was packed. But Harry and Ginny have to sleep in the same bed the night before the wedding, and you can tell things are going to get interesting.... Hitcount: Story Total: 8618 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: Song Lyrics are "Breathing" by Yellowcard, Good band, listen to them. |
|
|||
|
"Ginny, dear," Molly Weasley said, coming down the stairs. "Could you do me a tiny favour?" Ginny managed not to roll her eyes, but with great difficulty. She had done over a dozen "tiny favours" for her mother today, and it wasn't even eleven. "What is it, Mum?" She asked, blowing a piece of her hair out of her eyes. "Would you be a dear and sleep in the den tonight? Since Monsieur and Madame Delacour arrived, there's just no room for Arthur and I." "Erm… ok," she said uncertainly. "Just don't go messing with my stuff." "Of course, no problem." "And what about Hermione?" "She'll have to sleep down with you, of course. The Burrow is just too small." "Yeah, sure Mum, whatever…" and then she resumed washing dishes. Ron can do these with a flick of his wand. Why do I have to wash them by hand? *** "Ron, can you come here for a moment?" Arthur Weasley asked, his voice somewhat muffled by the door. A grunt could be heard from the other side of the door, followed by it opening and Ron entering. "What?" "Just a little tidbit, Ron, nothing at all…" "What is it?" he pressed, his hand in his pockets. "Could you and Harry sleep downstairs in the den tonight? There's no place for Remus and Tonks to sleep." "What?" he asked incredulously. Give up my bedroom? You're mental…" "Ronald," Mr. Weasley warned, peering at him over his glasses. "Fine, fine, I'll go tell Harry." Making his way out the door, he muttered, "as if it'll matter to him, he's lived in a cupboard for ten years…" *** "Ginny, be quiet. If anybody wakes up, we're screwed." "Honestly, though, why don't the Delacours sleep down here?" "Do you honestly think your mother would —?" Her voice faltered as the pair arrived downstairs. Lying on the pull-out sofa was Ron, and on the camp bed, Harry, both asleep. "Oh my, looks like there was a miscommunication between your mum and dad." "Never mind that, where are we going to sleep? I'm not waking up either of them. And besides, isn't it weird for guys to sleep in the same bed?" "I could enlarge the beds —" "If you think I'm either going to sleep with my brother or my ex-boyfriend, your crazy." "I guess we're going to have to pull straws." "Sorry?" "Straws. You know, short, long?" Hermione went to the kitchen and returned clutching two straws. "Whoever pulls the short one gets Harry. The long, Ron." "Fine." "Pick, then." She commanded, holding out her fist. Ginny grabbed one of the straws. Taking a deep breath, she looked and groaned. "Ugh, I got Harry." Chucking her straw in the garbage (which belched), she added, "I guess your gonna have to sleep with Ron then." She raised her eyebrow. Hermione blushed a deep crimson that Ginny could see, even in the semi-darkness. Hermione enlarged the beds with a quick flick of her wand. Luckily, it didn’t wake Harry or Ron up. Already in her pajamas, Hermione slipped in the bed with Ron, giving Ginny the joy of watching the expression on her face. Still laughing, she rushed up the stairs to put her pajamas on. In her bedroom, she debated on what she was going to wear. It was fairly warm, but it's not like she would just crawl in the bed with Harry in her bra and underwear. Deciding on a tank top and flannel pajama pants, she descended the stairs, going slower than she normally would because she didn’t want to wake anybody. Arriving on the landing for the second time that night, she made her way towards the bed. Her breath hitched as she approached him, she had nearly forgotten how gorgeous he was. She couldn’t help but notice that he was shirtless. She felt the telltale Weasley blush creep up on her cheeks as she thought this. Careful to not wake him up, Ginny slipped in the bed with him, drawing up the bedclothes and letting out her breath. She watched in horror as he mumbled incoherently; he didn't wake up, and she felt relieved. She remembered Ron telling her about the nightmares Harry sometimes had. She remembered her asking Ron what they were about, but he had merely shrugged and said, "dunno," by which time she had felt terribly sorry for Harry. As if reading her thoughts, Harry shifted closer to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, his head in her neck. Ginny's mind had gone blank; every particle of her brain was focused solely on Harry and how close he was to her. She could feel his warm, ragged breathing on her neck, and his strong hands around her. It was becoming harder and harder by the second to resist flipping him over and snogging him breathless. All of a sudden, Harry's eyes flew open and his hands flew from around her to her hip, gripping it rather tightly, making her wince in pain. Bolting upright, Harry searched the room feverishly, as if he was expecting something. His breathing soon slowed to a regular pace. "Gi — Ginny?" he asked, bewildered, as he obviously realized where his hand was. Snatching it away, he asked, "What are you doing down here?" "Mum told us me and Hermione we would be sleeping down here tonight." "No…your dad said we'd be sleeping down here." "Yeah well, there was obviously a problem, wasn't there?" "I guess…" They sat in silence for awhile, as the prospect of what they were doing to do settled on them like Dementor mist. Ginny watched Harry as he looked over to the other side of the room, where Ron and Hermione were. His expression was a mix of confusion and exasperation. He mumbled under his breath as he turned away from her, falling back on the bed and pulling the sheets up to his chin in a huff. "What?" she asked, lying down beside him. A moment of silence passed, after which he muttered, "They're coming with me, you know." "I know." She responded, turning to look at him. "And I know I might not make it —" she cut him off, placing a finger on his lips and silencing him. "No," she hissed fiercely, "you're going to come back." "I might not…" he mumbled, sitting up straight again. Miming his movement, she made to cut him off again, but his hand shot out to her elbow, stopping her, "No. I want to say this. I need to say this." His voice was quiet, but firm. "Okay." "Look. I know how this might end. I've known it for years. I know, that whenever this… whenever this war ends, I might die, I know it." She felt tears well up in her eyes as she heard his words. He was leaving, going out there when he full well knew that he might die. "But if I do die," he whispered, tilting her chin up to face him, "If I do die, I want you to promise me that… that you'll get over me. If I die, I want to know that you will be happy." He slowly moved his hand from her elbow, and threaded his fingers through hers. "No." He looked at her. "What?" "If you died, I don’t know what I'd do." She never would have imagined herself saying that out loud, let alone to Harry. "You're not going to, though. You are going to get out of this mess, and everything will be fine. " "No, Ginny, everything will not be fine. People are dying, Ginny. I was nearly one of them. My parents, Sirius, Dumbledore… all of these people died because of me. The sooner I get out of here, the sooner I leave, the sooner all of you will be in less danger." "Less danger?" she hissed, whipping her hand out of his. "Less danger? Bloody hell Harry, my family are known members of the Order of the Phoenix, everyone knows that. Let's just leave it, and go to sleep, okay?" for a second she thought he was going to flat out refuse, but he grunted "fine" and then laid down on the bed, turning away from her. The seconds turned into minutes as Harry and Ginny lay quiescent together, silent and unmoving. Both of them knew how awkward it was, and neither was willing to break the tension. Harry sure wasn’t going to break it. He was still a little embarrassed how he somehow managed to latch onto her in his sleep. He didn’t know how long she had been downstairs, and he didn’t want to know the answer. He knew why he broke up with her. He needed to take this journey alone (well, that's what he had told himself before Ron and Hermione insisted), and he was surprised she hadn’t asked him to go yet. He had spent two weeks at Privet Drive convincing himself that what he did was right, but whenever he got close to completely convincing himself that he was right, something small about her would pop into his head and the pros and cons would start fighting again. And then she kissed him today, and for half a minute he wasn’t the Chosen One, or the bloody Boy-Who-Lived. He shouldn’t be thinking of her, he should be thinking of the Horcruxes and Voldemort. "We could’ve had ages, months, years maybe…" He berated himself for the millionth time for not realizing it sooner — who she was, how comforting she was, how amazing and beautiful she was, how she felt, how her lips felt — "Happy seventeenth." Her body was a mere foot away from him, her scent overpowering him, obliterating every thought and feeling… he gave in. ~*~ "Yeah, thanks." He was a coward for not looking at her, but he didn’t want to see the emotions on her face. Wanting to do something to break the tension, he pointed out the window and said something about the view. She ignored him, just as he knew she would. "I couldn’t think of anything to get you." "You didn’t have to get me anything," he blurted out automatically. "I didn't know what would be useful. Nothing too big, because you wouldn’t be able to take it with you," she continued, ignoring him. His ability to talk failed him. He looked at her for a split second, and then went back to examining his shoelaces, hands in pockets. She wasn’t crying; just like everything else about her, she was tough — she hardly ever cried, unlike Cho, who — His thoughts were cut short as he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Glancing up, he noticed she had taken a step closer to him. The room might’ve just increased ten degrees. Since when did it get so hot in here? "So then I thought, I'd like to have something to remember me by, you know, in case you meet some Veela when you're off doing whatever you're doing." He tried not to laugh, but it didn’t really work as a he emitted a chuckle from his throat. "I think dating opportunities are going to be pretty thin on the ground, to be honest." "There's the silver lining I've been looking for," she whispered, and for a moment he had no idea what she was talking about, but her intentions became clear as she reached out for his t-shirt and the next thing he knew, she was kissing him more passionately than she had ever done before. He felt himself groan instantly at the contact, and his hands automatically flew from his pockets to her waist and hair, kissing her back almost instantly. The kiss was deep, and hot and Harry felt himself drowning in her. This was perfect, she was perfect and her smell was overpowering him, flowers, and raspberry… When she nipped at his bottom lip, he instantly deepened the kiss, wanting to be closer to her, feel her warmth and comfort — his body was on fire, this was better than he imagined and she was better — the taste of her, the smell of her, the goddamn feel of her, feel of her hands on the collar of his shirt — The door burst open with a crash and he jumped away from her as if burned. "Oh," Ron said, evidently hoping to pass off the intrusion as a wrong turn. "Sorry." "Ron!" Hermione hissed, staring dumbfounded at Harry's wrinkled shirt, messier than normal hair, and unfastened belt buckle. Avoiding her eyes, he fixed his belt, not remembering when she had unhooked it. He wanted to hex Ron, but he felt that if Ron had hexed him, he would have deserved it. He broke up with her, he put her in danger, and he enjoyed what just happened. He suddenly felt a little green… ~*~ He flipped over on his back in frustration while he felt a part of his mind wander to what could have happened if Ron hadn’t walked in. This part of his brain was privately glad that she what she did this morning, glad that it was putting himself in turmoil for not being able to be with her, and un-glad that Ron had walked in. Rubbing his hand absently over his stomach absent-mindedly, he was startled to notice that he wasn't wearing a t-shirt, which led to the fact that that he was in a bed with his girlfriend (ex-girlfriend, he mentally scolded himself), who had probably noticed by now. Well, a voice in his head said, it's not like she hasn't seen you like this before. True, she saw him shirtless once. Their few weeks at Hogwarts were completely innocent. They had went swimming together in the lake together, as he had had no homework and Ginny had an over-saturated brain full of Transfiguration theories that couldn't take anymore new information. That day they just decided to go swimming, and have a little break… Staring silently at the ceiling and listening to the light rain that had started outside, he felt Ginny move beside him, her face turning away from him, listening to her slow and deep breathing. Breathing… When he was in Privet Drive a couple of weeks ago, cleaning out his room with the radio on, a punk rock song called "Breathing" had come on. He liked it so much he stopped his cleaning efforts and simply sat down on his bed, listening. _______ Eyes are feeling heavy but they never seem to close The fan blades on the ceiling spin but the air is never cold And even though you're next to me I still feel so alone I just can't give you anything for you to call your own _______ He had felt himself paying more attention to the lyrics then the instruments. Well, the Harry at the Burrow thought, there were definitely no fans in the Burrow, as it was a Wizarding dwelling, but the third line was pretty much how he felt right now — isolated, but yet she was a mere foot away from him. _______ And I can feel you breathing And it's keeping me awake Can you feel it beating My heart's sinking Like a weight ______ His heart felt like three stone, Ginny's breathing was definitely keeping him awake (although the rain might have something to do with it), and he was somewhat surprised she hadn't woken up yet. ______ Something I've been keeping locked away behind my lips I can feel it breaking free with each and every kiss I couldn't bear to hurt you but it's all so different now Things that I was sure of they have filled me up with doubt ______ The third part was something he had felt the time from Dumbledore's death to the funeral. And yeah, the stuff he thought he knew didn't seem right either. Then it was the chorus again, and it went all silent and the part after that was just… right. ______ How I am supposed to feel about the things I've done I don't know if I should stay or turn around and run I know that I hurt you things will never be the same The only love I ever knew I threw it all away ______ That part chilled him, and part of him wondered if it was really just a song or if someone had read his mind. The rain had started to fall heavily now, big fat raindrops hitting the Burrow's many roofs. He was really tired now, and the rain had begun to sound almost like a lullaby instead of trolls. He fell asleep within minutes, and one phrase floated around in his dreams as he did so. "There's the silver lining I've been looking for…" ______ A jolt of lightening, followed by a clap of thunder, sounded through the Burrow, and Ginny woke up, startled. She tried to move, but a weight on her stomach prevented it. Sometime in the night, she had moved over onto Harry's side of the bed, sharing his pillow and his arm was slung over her waist. They were facing each other, and if she moved he would surely get woken up. It's not like she wanted to move from this position (in fact, it was really quite comfortable), but she didn’t want him to wake up and find them like this. The battle raged inside her head for about half a minute, by which time the latter lost. Getting as comfortable as possible without trying to move, she looked at him. Wow, that sounded weird. But he looked so peaceful when he was asleep. His body wasn't rigid, his brow wasn’t furrowed and his jaw wasn’t clenched. He was just… asleep, dreaming, as if the weight on his shoulders was lifted off. Surprised at her own daring, she reached out the hand that wasn’t pressed under her body and touched his stomach. Tingles shot down her spine and he grunted and shifted slightly, leaning into her touch. She smiled when he did this, for his hair had gotten even more mussed as usual when his head shifted on his (or wait, was it theirs?) pillow, pulling her closer to him. So close in fact, that Ginny's nose was practically touching his chest. Finding it all quite comfortable and warm, she drifted off to sleep for the second time that night. ______ "Ginny?" Silence. "Ginny." Grunt. "Ginny!" the voice hissed. "What?" she groaned and blinked a couple times, for there was sunlight leaking through the window. Closer inspection at the voice told her it was Charlie. "Get up." He persisted, shoving her shoulder. "Fine, fine." Sitting upright, she blearily added, "Where's Harry?" He arched an eyebrow at her. "I came down here last night to get a drink of water and you guys looked… comfortable." "It was nothing. Where is he?" "He got up 'bout an hour ago. What happened last night?" "Nothing," she insisted, but he looked down at her questioningly. She groaned, "Mum told me and Hermione to —" "Hermione and I. Hey!" he said, as she had thrown a pillow at him. "What was that for?" "You corrected my grammar, you know I hate it when you do that~" "Well if you went to Muggle school —" "You and Bill were the only ones who went, you knew that. Anyway, I'm going to go take a shower and get ready for dear Bill's wedding." She said, making to get up, but Charlie wasn’t going to let her off that easy. He never did. "Nothing! Mum asked Hermione and I," she huffed, glaring at him pointedly," to sleep downstairs last night because she and Dad told Ron and Harry to give up their bedroom for Lupin and Tonks. "Oh. So I'm guessing you and Hermione pulled straws or something. Or are you lying?" "No, why would I lie?" "Well, you always had a soft spot for Harry —" "Do you want to know? Do you really want to know, because if you do, you'd better cast silencing charms and promise not to tell anyone or I'll bat-bogey you. Weasley Pact." She added, holding up her right hand, fingers outstretched. She was goaded past endurance. He held up his hand and met hers, pressing their hands together, almost like a fan. "Weasley Pact." He repeated, then he waved his wand a couple times and muttered some things. "So?" "You know how I always liked him? Harry?" "Yeah…" "Well, last year, he, er… started to like me back." "You and Harry?" he asked disbelievingly. "How long?" "Not as long as you might think. I was dating Dean for most of the year, remember?" He saw a flicker of… well, she didn’t know exactly what it was, but she had a pretty good idea that it had something to do with when Dean came to the Burrow the previous summer." "Yeah." "Well, he kissed me right after we won the Quidditch Final he got banned from for using that Sectumsempra spell on Malfoy." Charlie let out a low whistle. "Whoa, you must have been happy." "I was, a lot, but he had detention every week and I had my OWLs." "Right, so are you still. Um, are you…?" "No." she sighed, running a hand through her hair. "He broke up with me at Dumbledore's funeral." "Ouch. And he broke up with you because…?" "He believed I was in more danger because of him." "Sounds like the sort of thing Harry would do," he declared, then, "and you're not happy about it, are you?" "Well," she began, thinking about everything, "I guess I… I guess I understand why he did it. I mean, I respect what he did, I just don’t like it much." "Oh. Nothing happened yesterday, then?" As he said it, a shirtless Harry popped into her head, quickly followed by the feel of his arms around her, his breath on her neck and yesterday's birthday present. Pushing them aside, she lied to Charlie for the first time in her life. "No, nothing." He stared at her for a moment before nodding and walking out of the sitting room, waving his wand. He pretended not to, but Ginny saw him whisper the incantation to take down the silencing charm. She didn’t say anything though; just as Fred and George didn’t go on about his first failed Apparition test, she didn’t go on about his inability to do non-verbal spells. Smiling slightly, she quickly made her half of the bed, tucking in the corners neatly. Heading upstairs to her bedroom to do the daily routine, Fred and George passed her. "Our hair isn't —" "–curly, yeah, but at least it's red —" "There are loads of people with red hair!" "Nobody will notice, Harry won't care —" "But other people will!" Finally locating the horrible gold dress in her closet, she collected the rest of the regulars and glanced at the picture on her bedside table. It was of her and Harry, sitting together at the edge of the lake, during the happiest weeks of her life. The photo Ginny was talking animatedly, and the photo Harry was gliding his feet through the water slowly. When Colin gave her the picture, she hadn’t remembered him taking it. He had said that he didn’t think Harry would like it much if they posed for a picture, so he just took it when he knew they weren’t looking. She loved the photo, it was so natural and she was happy that Colin took it when he did. Sighing slightly at memories of a couple months ago, she headed to the bathroom. Apparently she wasn’t the only one wanting to get clean as the door opened to reveal a damp and shirtless Harry, towel around waist. "Oh," he said in surprise. "Oh." She repeated, too shocked by how edible he looked. Finding her voice, she mumbled, "Sorry, I'll just…" "It's fine, I'll go change in Ron's room." And with that he retreated into the bathroom taking out his dress robes, socks and deodorant upstairs to Ron's bedroom. She stood dumbfounded in the middle of the hallway for a minute, forever imprinting the memory of what she just saw in her mind. Merlin… Irritated at herself, she scoffed into the bathroom, turning on the water and brushing her teeth, waiting for the water to warm up. I mean, he isn't even that attractive! She exclaimed. Big mistake, as the non-defiant part of her teased her with images of them laughing together, talking together, walking together, being together… Stalking over to the wireless, she twiddled the dials with unnecessary force, as it was on her mother's channel. Finding the Muggle rock station she liked, she listened to an advertisement and slipped into the shower. There was a different scent in the shower today. It almost smelled… like outside. Woodish, even. Harry's scent. She was smelling his scent. It was in the shower with her, and in one spiraling moment it seemed to hit her — he was leaving, and he wasn’t coming back for a long time, if at all. She didn’t cry; she hardly ever did. She accepted. She moved on. Pushing those thoughts out of her mind, she reached for her bottle of "Floral Raspberry" shampoo. And floating through the shower curtains came the unmistakable sound of a Muggle electric guitar followed by the upswing of drums, bass and violin, and the sound of the words that would be repeated in her head over the year, over and over again… And I can feel you breathing… ______ So! My first fic actually posted on a site. Like it? Love it? Hate it? Review and tell me what you think, I do love talking. The song is "Breathing" by Yellowcard, just to let you know. Yes, there really is a violin in the band. I highly recommend them. |
| Reviews 21 |
|
