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Tomorrow Will Be a New Day | ||||
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Category: Post-DH/AB Characters:All Genres: Romance Warnings: Mild Sexual Situations Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 14 Summary: My take on Harry and Ginny's reunion after the final battle. Actions speak louder than words, excerpts speak louder than summaries, so here goes: "Ginny looked at Harry, she held up her hand to touch his face. Harry took her hand and kissed it, looking into her eyes. They stayed that way for a long while, green drowning in pools of brown, brown sinking in a sea of green." Hitcount: Story Total: 7255 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: I know it's a bit late. Okay, not a bit. I mean, it's been more than a year since DH. I've had a lot of H/G reunion stories in my head, but this is the one that came most naturally. Er... enjoy.. Read and Review please, thanks a lot. |
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Harry woke up and found himself staring at the roof of his four-poster bed in his dormitory. It took him a minute to register where he was, and a couple more to remember everything that has happened. He got up slowly. He sat on his bed for minutes, staring at the floor, unable to think of what to do next. Eventually, he raised his head and saw sandwiches on his bedside table. Hours ago–or maybe it was days–he’d called Kreacher and asked the elf to prepare him a sandwich. But the loud pop Kreacher made when he disappeared hadn’t even faded when Harry immediately fell asleep–on the clothes he’d worn for days. Unthinkingly, Harry grabbed a sandwich and gobbled it up. He took another one after that, and another, and another. Before he knew it, he’d eaten all the sandwiches. He drank deeply from the jug on the table. He turned his head around to inspect the room and saw clothes at the foot of his bed. He also saw a wash basin on a stool beside his bed, near his clothes. Harry stood up and walked towards the basin. Slowly, he washed his face, his hands, every part of his body he deemed unclean–which was every part. After washing, he put on the fresh set of clothes. All this he did mechanically, as though controlled by intelligence other than his own. When he’d washed and change clothes, he thought, briefly, what was the point? Now that he was done cleaning up, the same thought came to his mind. What was the point? Everyone’s dead. Everyone! Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Colin. They’d won, yes. He’d defeated Voldemort, yes. But the casualties…. Harry stopped thinking then. It was all too much to bear. He closed his eyes and shook his head. When he’d stepped out of Dumbledore’s office, he’d been full of purpose. He knew what he was going to do. He may not know exactly how to pick up the pieces, but he had an inkling. And he knew that everyone he loved would be there too, picking up the pieces with him. Everyone, he thought of the word with considerably more hope than he did a few seconds ago. Kingsley and his team, the Order, his old classmates, the Weasleys, Ron and Hermione–his best friends in the world, and– Harry stood up quickly, his heart beating a little faster–he’d found a purpose. He pocketed his wand, which he found lying on his bed, and strode towards the door. He paused to look at himself in the mirror, and, satisfied with his reflection, he opened the door. ** Harry peered into the Great Hall before stepping inside. It was quieter now. Groups of people were scattered among the house tables, but not as many as before. Harry figured that most had gotten their well deserved sleep. Scanning the hall, he saw that Ron and Hermione weren’t there. Mrs. Weasley sat on one end of the Ravenclaw table, an arm wrapped around George, who was staring blankly in front of them. She was talking softly to him. Harry saw her a few seats away from them. Her head was down, resting on the arms she’d crossed on the table. Taking a deep breath, he entered the Great Hall. Almost immediately, the talk died down. Some people waved at him, some called out his name. He responded to their greeting unconsciously. Everyone was looking at him. Everyone that is, except for George and Ginny. George was still staring blankly in front of him, and Ginny still had her head down. He wondered if she was sleeping. ** Ginny sat on the Ravenclaw table, her head resting on her arms, looking down at her shoes. She tried not to think of anything, but everything seemed to come to her head. And they weren’t full thoughts either. They were all just snatches of everything that has happened, as though they were all fighting occupancy in her mind. She was also all too aware of her Mum and George sitting a few feet away from her. She wondered how they were, how they all were. She was trying to block away the conversations of the Great Hall’s occupants when suddenly, they all stopped. She was about to look up to investigate the cause when someone called his name. She closed her eyes momentarily then opened them up again, staring at her shoes. Her head remained down. She knew–or maybe hoped–that he would be heading towards her. ** Although he’d waved to and acknowledged the people who greeted him, Harry’s eyes never left Ginny. He purposefully headed towards her and when he reached her, he immediately sat down beside her. Harry put his hand on Ginny’s back, knowing now–though he had no idea how–that she was awake. “Hey, Gin,” he said softly. Ginny turned to face him, her head still resting on her arms. “Harry,” she said just as softly. She didn’t smile at him, but he felt the warmth of her one-word greeting. Harry stared into her brown eyes, drowning himself in them. He was unaware of all the eyes that were turned to them, including Mrs. Weasley’s. This was a staring contest he’d win though, and everyone had turned back to their own companions before he remembered where he was and blinked twice. Harry suddenly found himself at loss for words. He cursed himself for not preparing a speech. “Are you alright?” Harry asked Ginny. Then realizing what he’d said, he blurted, “I’m sorry, that was a stupid question.” Of course she wasn’t alright. No one is alright. Ginny looked at him, her warm expression unchanging, and answered his question with her own. “How are you?” Harry thought for a moment, then answered, “As okay as can be–now that I’m here with you.” Ginny smiled at him then, filling him with warmth and brightness. After a few minutes, Harry looked up to where Mrs. Weasley and George were. “How’s George?” he asked Ginny. Ginny turned her head back to the floor and said, “He won’t be himself in a while.” “Ginny, I–“ began Harry, but he was cut off. “It wasn’t your fault,” Ginny said fiercely, turning her head back at him while still resting them on her arms. “I–I didn’t say that,” said Harry. “You were going to,” said Ginny bitterly. “It wasn’t your fault, Harry. If it weren’t for you, we’d–we’d–“ Ginny stopped, unable to think about what would have happened if Harry hadn’t been Harry. It was Harry’s turn to stare at the floor. Ginny knew him too well. And come to think of it she was right. He turned back to look at her and noticed for the first time the dark lines under her eyes. “Have you slept yet?” he asked her. He moved his hand, which never left Ginny’s back, up her shoulders and started massaging them. It was something he used to do when she came to him all tired after studying for her OWLs. How he missed those days. How he missed her. How could he have gone for almost a year without her? “Couldn’t sleep,” said Ginny, turning her head yet again to the floor. Harry put his free arm on the table and laid his head on it, turning towards Ginny, so they would be eye level with each other. “Ginny,” said Harry, willing her to look at him, his right hand still stroking her shoulder. Ginny turned her head to face him. “I love you,” he said simply. He hadn’t really thought of it, but now that he said it, he knew that they were truest words he ever spoke. Ginny smiled at him, closed her eyes, and turned her head for the third time towards the floor. “I hope you don’t mind,” said Harry, worried that he’d just ruined everything. Ginny let out a chuckle, then turned to face him again. She was grinning fully now. “I don’t mind, Harry,” she told him gently. “I love you, too.” It was the best sentence Harry had heard in his life. Ginny raised her left hand and run them gently through Harry’s jet black hair. Harry took her hand in his and kissed them just as gently. He stared at Ginny and saw just how tired she really was. “Ginny, you really need to get some sleep,” said Harry. He had sat up and was looking a little sternly at her. It almost made her laugh. Almost. “Alright,” said Ginny, finally raising her head. “Alright?” asked Harry. He had expected her to resist and was suddenly caught off-balance by her agreement. Ginny smiled at him. “Yeah, I’m really tired,” she told him. Harry smiled back at her then stood up, his hand holding hers. When Ginny stood up, he put his arm around her, his hand resting on her hip. Slowly, they walked out of the Great Hall. Harry turned back to see Mrs. Weasley smiling after them. ** Madam Pomfrey was on them the moment they’d entered the infirmary. When they walked out of the Great Hall, they were walking with little or no purpose, content to be in each other’s arms again. It seemed that their feet had taken them to the infirmary, where about three people had already slept. The injured, Ginny had told Harry, were taken to an empty room in the ground floor, where trained medi-wizards were looking after them. The ones that had come to the infirmary were physically sound, but emotionally broken. They all wanted Madam Pomfrey’s sleeping potion. It was for this reason that she stayed at the infirmary. “Harry Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said in awe. It was the first time she’d used that tone with him. It was also the first time she used his full name. Her gaze didn’t linger on him though when she saw Ginny’s tired face. “Miss Weasley,” she said with uncharacteristic softness. “Please, follow me.” Madam Pomfrey took them nearest the window and practically lifted Ginny to the bed. She then turned to Harry, looking like she was about to do the same thing with him. “No, no,” said Harry, backing away slightly. “I’ve slept, thankfully.” Madam Pomfrey eyed him suspiciously, but didn’t say anything. Eventually, she left them to themselves. Harry sat on the chair beside Ginny’s bed. “Get some sleep, okay,” he said gently, taking her hand in his. “I’ll be right here.” Ginny smiled her thanks at him. Suddenly, Harry remembered something. “Have you eaten yet?” he asked Ginny, wondering what other things she’d neglected to do for herself. Under normal circumstances, Ginny would have commented on Harry’s “cluckiness”, but not today. Instead, she just smiled at him. “The house-elves are still doing their job,” she said. Madam Pomfrey came back with a bottle of sleeping potion and a medicine cup. She handed them to Harry and left them immediately, recognizing their need to be alone. Harry raised the bottle to Ginny, looking questioningly at her. “Yes please,” said Ginny. She was feeling awfully tired. It was all she could do to open her eyes, not wanting to take them off Harry. She wanted to sleep, but she didn’t want to have nightmares. It had been one of the reasons why she’d stayed awake all this time. She was also waiting for Harry. And he’s here now…. Harry poured some of the potion on the medicine cup and gave it to Ginny, who gulped it dutifully. It was a mere seconds before the potion took effect. She sank into her pillow and smiled almost drunkenly at Harry. “Good night,” she said groggily. Harry looked out the window. The sun wasn’t even close to setting, but “sweet dreams” or “sleep tight” seemed both bland and insincere, so he responded “good night” to Ginny, who immediately fell asleep. Harry had no idea how long he sat staring at her before weariness came over him again and he fell asleep on his chair, his head on Ginny’s bed and his hand holding hers. Not having drunk a sleeping potion, Harry woke up to the sound of sniffing. He looked for the source of the sound and saw Mrs. Weasley standing over George, a tear streaming down her cheeks. Harry realized he was still holding Ginny’s hand and immediately let go of it. He stood up to face Mrs. Weasley. He didn’t know whether Mrs. Weasley approved of him being with her daughter. “Mrs. Weasley,” he began, “I hope you didn’t mind. Ginny was really tired. I took her here. She had a sleeping potion.” Mrs. Weasley wiped the single tear and smiled sadly at him. “Thanks,” she said. Harry looked down at his shoes, at loss for words to say. What do you say to a mother who had just lost her beloved son? “Thank you, Harry,” said Mrs. Weasley, saving him from trying to think of what to say to her. “I–I almost lost her too. M-my l-little girl. I d-don’t know what I would have done–“ Harry remembered it, the moment when Bellatrix’s curse almost hit Ginny. His heart had failed then, stopped beating for a moment. He clenched his fists, even the memory of that moment sent constricting pains through his heart. Mrs. Weasley must have felt worse, especially after she’d lost Fred. He’d been looking at the floor the whole time, but he looked up now, meeting Mrs. Weasley’s gaze. “She’s really tired,” said Mrs. Weasley. “She’s too young for all this, a lot of people are. But she didn’t want to sleep. Ginny, my Ginny–she’s afraid of having nightmares. And she was waiting for you too,” she said finally. “I’m here now,” Harry said seriously, looking at Mrs. Weasley, then at Ginny. I’m not leaving again, ever, he thought. I won’t make you wait again, he promised. Merlin knows I’ve made you wait long enough. Molly smiled at the way Harry looked at her daughter. “You love her.” It was a statement. Harry turned to look back at Mrs. Weasley. “Yes,” he said solemnly. “She loves you, too,” she told him. “She told me,” said Harry, smiling despite of himself. “She chose well,” said Mrs. Weasley. Harry felt honored. He could get no greater compliment from the mother of the woman he loves. “They all choose well,” said Mrs. Weasley, adapting the same tone she’d used when talking about Ginny earlier. “Ginny–I couldn’t think of a better man for my only girl. And Ron–the moment I met Hermione, I hoped that they would fall in love. And they did. I’ve never seen Ron look so happy. Percy–he hasn’t chosen yet, but when he does, I know she will be the right one. My Percy, he’ll choose with his heart and his head. Charlie, I don’t know if he’ll choose anyone, but I know he’ll be happy. And Bill–I was wrong about Fleur. Terribly wrong. He couldn’t have chosen a better woman to be his wife. Fred and George–“ Mrs. Weasley paused to wipe a tear that was starting to trickle down her cheeks. At that moment, Harry realized where Ginny had gotten her strength and courage. “Fred and George,” Mrs. Weasley said again. Harry knew it was difficult, knew that she’d left them intentionally for last. He waited patiently for her to continue. “They loved the same girl,” she said finally. “They never told me, of course. But I know it. But they loved each other so dearly that–“ At this point, Mrs. Weasley couldn’t continue. No tear trickled down her cheeks now, but her voice had cracked. Harry looked away, unable to say anything. “I’m sorry, Harry,” Mrs. Weasley said after a while. “I must be boring you with my sentimentalities.” “No Mrs. Weasley,” said Harry seriously. “I’ll–it’s the least I could do. I mean, listening–after all you’ve done for me–for all of us….” Mrs. Weasley smiled gratefully at Harry. “I’m sorry about Fred,” said Harry, looking at Mrs. Weasley. He wanted her to know how much he sympathized with her, how much he wished that he had prevented what happened to her son. “It’s not your fault Harry, I hope you know that,” Mrs. Weasley told him gently. “I know,” said Harry. Mrs. Weasley smiled at him. “Good.” Harry smiled back. “I want to thank you,” said Mrs. Weasley. “For Ginny, and Ron, and Arthur–for everything….” Tears threatened to stream from Harry’s eyes. He swallowed. He knew then that no matter what kind of “Thank You’s” he’ll receive from the Wizarding world, Mrs. Weasley’s gratitude would always be among those that mean most to him. He nodded solemnly at her. Mrs. Weasley sniffed and looked at George sadly. “I have to go back now,” Mrs. Weasley said to Harry. “I have five other kids to attend to.” Four, thought Harry, but he never bothered to correct her. “Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said as she turned towards the door. “Don’t you–would you–have you had some sleep?” The tears Mrs. Weasley had been trying to hold back streamed from her eyes. She smiled despite of this, looking at Harry with bloodshot eyes. “I’ve had some sleep, thanks,” she said. “Arthur made sure of that. He looked after everyone when I was sleeping. I chose well too, you know,” she added. Harry wanted to hug her then, to show her his gratitude. And he did so. He took a few steps towards Mrs. Weasley, who was a head shorter than him, and embraced her like he would his mother. “Look after each other,” Mrs. Weasley told Harry when they pulled apart. He knew she meant him and Ginny. “We will,” promised Harry. Mrs. Weasley managed to smile at him, then turned and headed towards the door. Harry waited until she closed the door behind her before he went back to Ginny’s side. Harry sat on Ginny’s bed, looking gently at her sleeping form. He took her hand in his and stroked her hair with his other one. How much he missed her. How he loved being around her. How he loved her, dearly. Without warning, tears started to flow down his cheeks. He let them go freely. He was crying for her at first, for her loss, for the time they’d spent apart. Then suddenly he was crying for everything that has happened. For his parents, their friends, his friends, the Weasleys, for all the families who have lost a member under Voldemort’s reign. Finally, he cried for himself, for the family he lost, for his awful childhood, for everything he’d been through. Harry didn’t know how long he sat there crying. All he knew was that by the time he regained his composure Ginny was already sitting up, her arms around him. He was sobbing on her shoulders, and at the same time taking in the scent of her. That flowery fragrance. Maybe it was how he had regained his composure. He buried his head in her hair and breathed in deeply. It calmed him then, and it won’t be the last time that it did. His sobs were over now, but he didn’t move. He wanted to stay that way forever. To hold her, to be held by her. Eventually, Harry pulled away. He stared into Ginny’s eyes. “Are you okay?” she asked him, her face etched with concern. Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak. “Oh, Harry,” said Ginny. She run her hand through his hair and pulled his head closer to hers. She kissed him then. He kissed her back. It was their first kiss in months. It was gentle at first, chaste. It spoke of how much they loved each other, how contented they are now that they’re together. The kiss deepened, their tongues dancing harmoniously together. It spoke of how much they’ve missed each other, of their longing for each other. Harry leaned forward, wanting to be closer than is physically possible. Ginny leaned back on her pillow, still kissing Harry. He put his hand on her waist, both for support and for want of her touch. Ginny moved her hand from his head down his back, to the bottom of his shirt, then under it. Now under his shirt, she ran her hand up, stroking his bare back. Harry shivered at her touch. He followed her lead and put his hand under her shirt, running it up her side, close to her breast. She moaned softly into his mouth, sending small electric shocks down his spine. Harry wanted to keep kissing Ginny, but they’d have to catch their breath soon–Harry was desperately holding his. Eventually, they broke apart, looking at each other with similar expressions on their faces. Guilt at what they’d just done–in the infirmary no less, with people who would wake up at any moment–and disappointment that they had to end it. Ginny looked at Harry, she held up her hand to touch his face. Harry took her hand and kissed it, looking into her eyes. They stayed that way for a long while, green drowning in pools of brown, brown sinking in a sea of green. A loud snore broke their moment. Ginny turned her head and saw George sleeping two beds away from her. “George is here?” Ginny said softly, not taking her eyes off her brother. “Your mum brought him here a while ago,” said Harry. Ginny stared at George. She wondered how he’s doing. She always did, ever since the events. Every time she looked at him, she wondered how he would fare without his twin. Every time she looked at him, she was reminded of Fred. They looked so much alike. Ginny frowned, forcing back her tears. But it seemed that control was beyond her and they started flowing down her cheeks. Ginny didn’t turn to look back at Harry. She didn’t want him to see her this way, weak and crying. She needed to be strong for him. “Gin?” said Harry. He gently turned her head towards him and wasn’t surprised when he saw tears streaming from her eyes. “Gin, you don’t always have to be strong,” he told her softly. Harry gathered Ginny in his arms and held her to him. It was his turn to be the crying shoulder now. Ginny had cried for George at first, now she cried for Harry. For all the things he’d been through, for his family, for his childhood. She cried for all the times he was away from her, for not being able to hold him close to her. She cried for her family, for her parents, for her brothers, for herself. For the friends she’d lost, for the friends she still has and how the war must have affected them, for everything. Finally, she didn’t know what she was crying for, but the tears still flowed from her eyes, as though making up for all the times she’d held them. Eventually, the tears stopped, leaving her with dry, racking sobs. She felt Harry’s chest going up and down with hers. She felt his strong hands holding her. It calmed her. She felt safer than she’d had in months. Her breathing evened and she was now holding on to him more for the need to be close to him than for wanting a shoulder to cry on. Ginny pulled away after a while. She looked up at Harry, who was looking back at her. “Thanks,” she said. “Anytime,” said Harry. He kissed her chastely on the lips. “It’s your turn now,” said Ginny, grinning. “What?” asked Harry, confused. “You know, to cry,” said Ginny, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “We take turns.” “Oh!” Harry exclaimed in comprehension. She was joking. Trust Ginny to make a joke about pouring each other’s hearts out. He chuckled, then sniggered, then laughed uncontrollably. Ginny followed suit a second later. “I love you, Harry,” Ginny said when they’d both sobered up. “I love you, too,” said Harry, smiling at her. She smiled back at him, then turned away to look out the window into the Hogwarts grounds. “Let’s go out there,” she said to him. Harry nodded, only too happy to comply with Ginny’s wishes. He stood up and held out his hand to help her up. She took it graciously, but jumped out of the bed on her own. When they reached George’s bed, Ginny let go of Harry’s hand and went up to her brother. She stared sadly at him for while. Then she kissed his forehead. She walked back to Harry, who was standing at the foot of the bed, and took his hand in hers. Together, they headed towards the door. “Mum was at the hospital wing too?” Ginny asked Harry as they walked down a corridor. “Mm-hmm,” replied Harry. “How was she?” asked Ginny. “She–she’s worried about all of you, all of us,” said Harry. Ginny nodded her understanding. “She said you chose well,” said Harry, looking at Ginny now. “What do you mean?” asked Ginny, as confused with her mother’s words as the smile playing on Harry’s face. “With me,” said Harry, pointing proudly at himself. “Oh,” said Ginny, her eyes widening in comprehension. “Well, Mum tends to be wrong about our love lives. I mean, look at Fleur, she didn’t approve of her then.” Ginny’s face was straight, but Harry knew she was joking, playing with him. This made him grin wider. “Not just you too,” continued Harry. “She said that she’d always wanted Ron and Hermione to fall in love with each other.” “Oh yeah,” said Ginny. “Remember that time when she sent Hermione a really small Easter egg? It wasn’t so much because she thought Hermione was a ‘scarlet woman’, Mum never believed that. I think it was mostly because she thought Hermione was in love with either you or Krum–whoever, it didn’t matter–she wanted Hermione to fall in love with Ron.” “That was why she did that?” asked Harry, grinning at how much Mrs. Weasley wanted Ron and Hermione to be together. “Yeah, Mum can be a bit interfering,” said Ginny. “Look at Bill and Fleur. But it’s just her way of looking after us, you know. She wants to make sure we all end up with the right one.” The right one, thought Harry. So Mrs. Weasley thought he was the right one for Ginny. He’d never felt so honored. He nodded absently. “What else did she say?” asked Ginny. “Oh,” said Harry, shaken from his thoughts. “She said Percy hasn’t chosen yet, but that he’ll choose well, with his heart and his mind. She didn’t know whether Charlie would choose anyone at all, but she said he’d be happy. She also said that she was wrong about Fleur and that she’s the perfect wife for Bill.” “I was wrong about Fleur too,” admitted Ginny. “I guess I was jealous, because I didn’t want to lose Bill…. And Fred and George?” she asked, a little too casually. “She mentioned them last, you know,” said Harry, knowing Ginny would understand why. “She told me–she told me they fell in love with the same girl but that they loved each other dearly. She never told me what happened, but I’m guessing they both decided to forego their feelings for the girl.” Ginny nodded knowingly. “It was Angelina,” she said softly. Harry stared at Ginny, his mouth slightly hanging open. Ginny nodded at him. “George was the one who knew that they felt the same way about her,” said Ginny. “Fred didn’t know, so he dated Angelina. George never told him, because he wanted Fred to be happy. I knew though, and so did Mum. I told him to tell Fred about how he feels but he refused, flatly. He knew Fred would break up with Angelina if he finds out, and he didn’t want to do that to him. But I guess you can’t really keep a secret from your twin for too long. Fred found out about how George felt, I don’t know how, but he found out. They were in their seventh year. Fred broke up with Angelina then. Fred and George, they never talked about it. It was the only thing they never talked about….” “Wow,” murmured Harry. To love each other so dearly that they gave up the girl they loved. Harry knew he’d never be able to give Ginny up for anyone. Harry and Ginny walked silently after that. Hand in hand, they headed out of the castle and towards their favorite spot under a tree by the lake. Ginny sat down and pulled Harry to the ground. Harry took his seat then wrapped his arms around Ginny, taking in her flowery fragrance. Ginny sighed. “I’m so glad you didn’t meet a Veela,” she said half-jokingly. “Gin, even if I met a Veela, I’d still come back to you,” said Harry. “No Veela in this world could match the effect you have on me.” Ginny looked at him and grinned. “You are so corny sometimes,” she said, but she kissed him all the same. Ginny looked across the grounds. A gentle breeze blew across the grass, making them dance to its tune. The sun was already setting, casting an orange glow to the sky and the surrounding mountains. “Tomorrow will be a new day,” said Ginny softly. Harry nodded his agreement. They both looked at the lake, which reflected a newly risen crescent moon. Yes, tomorrow will be new day. They will pick up the pieces and rebuild all that has been destroyed. They will never be able to replace those that they lost, but they will try to live on for them. It will be hard, no doubt. But they have their family, their friends. And they have each other now. Tomorrow will definitely be a new day, a day they’d be facing together. -FIN- |
| Reviews 14 |
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