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More Alike Than Not | ||||
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Category: Post-HBP Characters:Other, Harry/Ginny Genres: Fluff, Drama Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: G Reviews: 17 Summary: During the moonlit reception of Bill and Fleur's wedding, Harry and Bill have a conversation about love, and just how alike they really are. Hitcount: Story Total: 4662 |
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A/N: I'm sorry that this takes place during Bill and Fleur's wedding. I know that there are so many stories being written based on the wedding. But a wedding is a place where people are gathering to honor two people's love of eachother. And that, in my opinion, is the perfect setting for my story. If you disagree, I'm sorry. Harry sat in the small clearing on the hill, just overlooking the glittering silver dance floor on which the reception of Bill and Fluer's wedding was taking place. The sun was set, and the full moon shone above the guests, some dancing, and some sitting in chair, talking, or just observing the happy occasion, gladly forgetting the horrible times that they were facing for one night. Harry Potter, on the other hand, had chosen to stray from the festivities, and sit alone, leaving himself with his thoughts, away from the pitying eyes of the guests. Word had spread very quickly that he had witnessed Dumbledore's death. But sitting alone on that hill, under the shadows of a maple tree, Harry was mourning another loss. He heard a rustles behind him. He barely moved, expecting to find Ron or Hermione, coming to look for him and console him. They had tiptoed around him for the past month, but he knew good and well that they had finally figured out their feelings for eachother. He was surprised to hear a deeper voice behind him. "I thought you might be brooding here" the voice said. He turned around to find Bill Weasley, his tie loosened and jacket over his shoulder. "May I sit?" he asked. Harry nodded, turning back in the direction of the dance floor. Bill took a seat next to him on the grass. Harry once again found the source of many sleepless nights. Ginny was dancing with a handsome, golden-haired cousin of Fleur's, far enough to be polite, but too close for Harry's liking. He leaned closer and whispered something in her ear. She put her hand over her mouth, as if to stifle a giggle. Harry felt the undying monster in his chest growl again, wishing it was he who held her in his arms, and whispered in her ear. He glanced over at Bill. In the moonlight, he could make out the scratches that had become scars more clearly on his face. His long hair was tied back. Harry, at first, thought he was looking the same place he was, but soon realized he was actually watching Fluer, dancing with her father, her white dress sparkling. He felt a strange pain when he noticed the spark of love in his eyes. He looked back at Ginny dancing with the light-haired Delacour, and subjected himself to the same agony he had been feeling all summer. "She really is beautiful, you know" Bill said dreamily. Harry knew he was talking about Fluer, but his eyes never left Ginny. "Yeah," Harry said, "she really is". They sat in silence for a moment longer. Harry vaguely questioned in his mind why Bill was sitting with him. "You know, Harry, when Fluer and I started dating, everyone had their doubts." He said. Harry looked at him, wondering if this was his reason for coming here. "Everyone thought she was too good for me. You should have heard the whispers we would get, walking around together. 'Why is she with that filthy blood traitor'. It seemed that everyone was against us. Hell, my own mother tried her damndest to break us apart." Harry sat for a moment, trying to understand why he was telling him this, but was coming up blank. "Today, it's sort of official. After Greybeck attacked me, rumors began to fly whether we would be breaking our engagement. But today, everyone knows that a few cuts can't break our love for eachother. Fluer loves me, and I love her." He looked back down to the dance floor, where Fluer was conversing with her mother, laughing and throwing her hair over her shoulder. Harry, in turn, looked back at Ginny. She now was dancing with Ron, laughing as he stepped on her feet. He smiled in spite of himself. Ron, with all his wonderful qualities, wan never very graceful in dancing. "I see the way you look at her, Harry." Bill said. He jerked his head back to him. Bill had a knowing look on his face, and Harry felt himself blushing. Was he that obvious? "I know about everything you two went through. She told me. It really hurt her, Harry. I know it doesn't show, but it did." Harry felt guilt creeping onto his heart, finally calming the roaring monster that had been so alive the past month. "I didn't know." he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "Of course you didn't. You and Ginny may have your differences, but you both are incredibly stubborn." Harry noddded, his gaze still following Ginny. "You and I, Harry, we're more alike than not. I had the world against Fluer and I, my own mother against us, and it didn't matter. Because I loved her enough, and she loved me enough, that we got through it." Suddenly, it dawned on Harry. The piteous looks from the Weasley's, despite their feirce protectiveness of Ginny. What Dumbledore had been trying to tell Harry since the night he captured the Sorcerer's Stone became clear. He was in love with Ginny Weasley. "It's too late" he said, more to himself than to Bill, "she won't take me back." "You'd be surprised, Harry, what Weasley's will do when they're in love." Bill said, a slight grin playing over his lips. He looked to Fleur again, that same wistful sparkle in his blue eyes. "Go to her" he said quietly. Doubt began to flood Harry's mind. What if Bill was wrong? "But wha-" "Go." Harry didn't need telling twice. He jumped up and began sprinting down the hill. He ran across the dance floor, startling many of the guests, and missed a knowing smile that passed between Mrs. Weasley and Bill. He ran straight to Ginny, who was sitting down, talking with Hermione. "Can we talk?" *** I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish eternity. Nor had I time to love; but since Some industry must be, The little toil of love, I thought, Was large enough for me By Emily Dickinson *** A/N: Please don't hate me for finishing it there. I want to leave the readers to their own conclusions. But who knows, if enough people post asking me for a second chapter, I might do it. My decisions are never final. |
| Reviews 17 |
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