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Sunshine and Midnight Rain

Summary: When she's 25 and he's 26 and they're missing all the other's moments, they break apart, afraid of the consequence, afraid of what they'd be losing. Now, 5 years later, she wants things to be different. And he wants them too. Angst/Fluff Inspired by Taylor Swift's song, "Midnight Rain" from the Midnights album, as the title wisely said :D

...

My town was a wasteland

Full of cages, full of fences

Pageant queens and big pretenders

But for some, it was paradise

“Must you always drink this much?” Marlene muttered as she packed the bottles into a crate, frowning at a half-sleeping Ginny.

“Yeah,” the latter replied sarcastically, before getting up much hesitantly to help her team-mate, cum best-friend. “I never asked you to help out, you know,” Ginny continued snidely, and Marlene, as though appearing enraged, smacked her on the side of her arm.

“I’ll leave them, will I?”

“I never asked you to do that, either,” Ginny smirked. “And that,” she rubbed her arm tenderly, “was uncalled for.”

It was much justified,” Marlene replied curtly. “How a girl can spend her 30th birthday drinking her way to unconsciousness, I can never understand.”

Ginny stayed silent, and Marlene grabbed her arm, forcing her to look up at her.

“Really, Ginevra, all of us thought we’d go out yesterday, have some food, get our game on, the lot. And here I am today, cleaning up bottles because you spent the entire night drinking yourself to insanity.” Marlene shook her head in disappointment, then wrinkled her nose. “And what even is this?” she exclaimed, bringing a half-finished bottle up to her nose. “This can’t be normal whisky, can it?”

Ginny smirked, grabbing the bottle from her. “It’s not whisky. It’s vodka.”

“Vod-what?”

“Muggle alcohol. It works best.”

“For drowning out your miseries? Really, Ginny-”

Ginny shook her head, silencing Marlene. “Every time we go out, the news gets us on the front page. And by us, I mean me.” She got up, crate in hand. “ ‘Quidditch Star Ginny Weasley, now a professional drunkard.’”

She scoffed, then continued, “Last time we were out, the paper got a picture of me and that freaking bartender, and somehow made it seem as if I was seducing him with my exceptional ‘femme fatale’ skills.”

Marlene got up, then looked at Ginny. “And is that all?”

“Huh?”

“Is that all, Ginny?” Marlene said, with an accusing voice. “Are you really telling me that the tabloids are the reason you didn’t go out with us last night? The reason you haven’t left your house for anything other than quidditch for the last year?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No, I think you do. Because I know for a fact, that this,” Marlene gestured at the stray-away bottles in Ginny’s house, “has very little to do with your image in the news.”

Ginny looked away, then walked past Marlene to deposit the heavy crate beside the door. The lights in her house flickered, Ginny realising it had been too long since she had had anybody over to look at the muggle powered lights in her house.

“How long is it going to take for you to get over him?” Marlene pressed on, and Ginny looked over at her angrily.

“Don’t say another word.”

“Is it going to take you destroying yourself to get over a boy?”

“Get out, Marlene,” Ginny snapped.

Marlene looked at her straight in the eyes, then sighed, picking up the bag, and walking towards Ginny. Then, without saying a word, she picked up the crate of bottles, and Apparated.

Ginny gulped, then looked up at the flickering lights of the house.

Maybe it would.

Keep reading

…

My boy was a montage

A slow-motion, love potion

Jumping off things in the ocean

I broke his heart 'cause he was nice

FIVE YEARS AGO

It had been a wonderful match. In fact, one of the best in years. The Harpies had won by a fair number of points, and though the Seeker had done a marvelous job in catching the Snitch, it had been the Chasers who had stolen the show. It had also been Ginny’s first time in the finals of the World Cup. The first one was always the one which kickstarted the player’s career, and she had definitely proved her mettle on the field there.

And though they had a lot of work to do, talking to the reporters, getting ready to hoist the cup, Ginny couldn’t wait to tell Harry.

She’d missed some of his floo messages in the last few days. Between the tension of the match, and Gwenog’s continuous badgering, she had completely forgotten to floo back.

But now, she wanted nothing more than to talk to him.

Ginny pulled off her gloves, passing them off to Marlene before she rushed off into the changing room.

She was breathless when she started the Floo Network, a huge smile on her face as she waited for Harry to show up. Nearly giddy with excitement, she beamed as Harry, or rather, his image showed up in front of her.

Even from the get-go, she knew something had gone wrong.

“We won!” she grinned in glee and Harry smiled back at her, his green eyes sparkling through the floo network.

“I knew you would,” he replied. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you.”

“That’s alright,” Ginny said. “You had a mission.”

Harry nodded, and Ginny held her breath, waiting for him to say something else.

Something had gone wrong.

“What’s…what's wrong, Harry?” Ginny asked, heart hammering in her chest. In mere minutes, the excitement had dulled down, replaced with nervous-ness.

“Nothing’s wrong, Ginny. I’m just extremely happy for you,” Harry smiled back at her, but even his smile looked strained.

“Don’t do that Harry, just tell me what’s wrong,” Ginny urged, wishing she could reach through the Floo and touch him.

Harry sighed, then looked back at her, his eyes betraying the pain he was in. “The mission,” he relented. “It went horribly wrong.”

Ginny’s heart stilled.

“Some of our team,” Harry’s voice wavered, “died in the cross-fire. It was unexpected, and we received the brunt of it.”

She could have lost him, Ginny realised.

She could have never seen him again.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine Gin,” Harry paused, and Ginny felt relief flood through her.

But it was the hesitation in his voice that told her what was to come. “Gin, there are the….funerals. I don’t think I’ll -”

“You won’t be able to come,” Ginny finished.

Her heart squeezed painfully, and she forcefully fought the lump in her throat.

“That’s okay,” she said. “That’s absolutely fine, Harry.” Ginny said breathlessly. “In fact, I’ll apparate back. The match is over. I can come back now.”

“No, Gin, please. You don’t have to do that. You’ve worked for this for seven years-”

“And I’ve done it, Harry -”

“No.” Harry said, finality in his tone. Ginny gulped, blinking back tears. She could hear her teammates' excited chatter get closer, and it seemed Harry could too.

“I should go,” Harry said. Ginny stayed silent, as he smiled at her one last time before vanishing.

Gwenog burst in, a triumphant look on her face. Behind her, Marlene and Wilda bounded in, stopping in their tracks as they saw Ginny’s expression.

“Your boy's coming?” Gwenog asked, and Ginny’s throat clogged.

“No. He isn’t.”

…

He was sunshine, I was midnight rain

He wanted it comfortable

I wanted that pain

He wanted a bride

I was making my own name

Chasing that fame

He stayed the same

All of me changed like midnight

He was waiting for her at the Apparatus Terminal when she opened her eyes. A big smile on his face, sparkling green eyes. Ginny burst into a smile, as she bounded over to him, jumping into his arms.

Harry laughed as the flowers in his hand fell on the ground, and Ginny kissed him. He’d missed her. But what was more, he’d regretted that he’d missed her match. Even more so because he knew how hard she had worked for it. Day in and day out on the Quidditch field, coming back home absolutely knackered, going back the next day again.

She didn’t deserve what had happened nearly a week ago.

When they let go of each other, Ginny kissed him, and Harry smiled against her lips, cherishing the feel of them.

He’d half thought he’d never feel them again.

“Are you okay?” Ginny asked, as they broke apart.

“I’m absolutely fine.” He didn’t like how his mission had taken over her game. He didn’t want that.

After that floo had ended, he’d sworn he’d never let that happen again.

“I’m so proud of you,” he said softly, looking into her brown eyes, as they looked back worriedly.

But then they transformed, and a smile replaced them.

Oh, how he loved that smile.

“Let’s go home.”

Ginny smiled, silent as she slipped her hand into his and they Apparated.

...

It was when he was opening the door to their house did Ginny ask about the mission.

Harry looked away then.

He had been dreading the conversation.

“It was a couple of rogue Death-Eaters. We found them hidden in the outskirts of a Muggle town,” he said. “I’m pretty sure they would have willingly handed themselves over, if -” Harry wavered, looking away from Ginny as she rubbed his forearm comfortingly. “If I hadn’t been there.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, and she cupped his neck, bringing her closer to him. “It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered, and Harry closed his eyes as she rested her forehead against his.

This. This was it. This was what he’d been craving since days. It was pathetic for him, but he had needed this reassurance. That this-this wasn’t his fault.

Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny, and then looked at her. “I’m so sorry I missed the final. I swear… it won’t ever happen again.”

“It is absolutely fine,” Ginny enunciated her words.

“It isn’t, but I’ll make sure it won’t ever happen again.”

It wouldn’t, and he’d made sure of that.

But it didn’t seem to get the response he was looking over. Now that they were in their house, the house that they had found together, Ginny pulled away from him, expecting an answer.

“What do you mean?”

“I asked Kingsley to reduce my workload. There won’t be as many missions as before, and he wasn’t very happy about it, I’m sure, but you have been there for every single important moment of mine, and I haven’t been in -”

“No, Harry,” Ginny interrupted. “You can’t possibly do that.”

Harry looked at her in confusion. He’d expected her to be elated, but it seemed the opposite had happened.

“This is your career that you’re talking about,” Ginny said. “You can’t possibly be throwing away all of that for me.”

“I’m not. Gin, I’m just going to go on fewer missions -”

“But missions are what you love. Fighting on the frontlines is what you chose to do,” Ginny cried.

Above them, the lights flickered, a momentary lapse in power.

“Gin, being with you is also what I chose. And I am happy with this. With you. Maybe in a few years, we can think about settling down. Merlin knows, that would be something a long time coming.”

Harry cupped Ginny’s face, trying to understand the conflicted look on her face.

“I swear, everything’s going to be alright.”

And as Ginny rested her head on his chest, Harry couldn’t help but wonder if what he had said was true.

…

It came like a postcard

Picture perfect, shiny family

Holiday, peppermint candy

But for him it's every day

TODAY'S TIME

Three days till Christmas.

Ginny knew, if she didn’t leave now, she wouldn’t ever find the courage to go home in time for it.

She looked up at the still flickering lights in her house. If her mum found out about the way she was living, she’d be horrified. Hell, Ginny herself seemed horrified herself most days.e

Half-finished bottles of whisky near the basin, her clothes lying all over the house, most of them unwashed, and food? She had resorted to eating mostly at pubs, or over at Marlene’s.

Normally, she’d be looking forward to Christmas. But, somehow, this year, she just couldn’t find the will to go to the Burrow and put up that mask of hers, the one where she was happier than most days.

He’d be there too.

Ginny closed her eyes, using her wand to create sparks of golden glitter over her, that disappeared before they fell over her.

She’d known things were going to fall apart the day he’d opted out of that mission. And Tomas had died.

She’d seen his face when Kingsley’s patronus had appeared in the room. Seen his expression.

Ginny gulped down the lump in her throat, taking in a few deep breaths, before clicking her tongue and getting up from the couch.

She couldn’t afford to do this.

She got up, waving her wand to get herself dressed, before picking up her rucksack and heading out the door.

An hour later, she had apparated right in front of the door. Even while outside, she could hear the chatter inside the house. Ron’s voice, her mum yelling. Someone laughing.

Even unconsciously, she felt a smile across her face.

He’d be there, but it’d be okay. It would.

Taking a breath, she muttered the spell Bill had set on the door and walked right in.

Almost instantly, an uproar started.

“Ginevra,” her mom cried out, followed by a chorus of Ginnys, and a lot of footsteps running towards her. The first one was her mum.

Ginny laughed as she was wrapped up in a hug by the shorter woman.

“You’re eleven days late,” her mum was yelling away, and for a second, Ginny just buried her nose in her shoulder, taking in the smell of home. After being promoted to Captain, and Gwenog leaving, a different arena of responsibilities had fallen on her shoulder, and Ginny had struggled throughout the past year, trying to keep the Holyhead Harpies up. She had succeeded, to an extent, but not without being under the scrutiny of the entire Wizarding World, and of course, herself.

But now, after nearly 17 months, she was home again.

The second her mum left her, she was brought into a hug by her Dad and Bill, and then the rest of her brothers followed, each of them ruffling her hair, though she gave Ron a much deserved glare as he went to do so.

“How’s the baby?” she asked Hermione, as Fleur kissed her cheek.

“Rough. She’s started kicking, but it’s not as bad as it had been a few days ago.”

“All babies are like that, my love," Fleur reassured. "I remember, Dominique nearly broke me by all her moving.”

The three women laughed, and Ginny’s eyes travelled among the crowd, as they slowly landed on him.

He was looking right at her.

It had been ages since she had seen those green eyes.

Ginny lowered her eyes in embarrassment, as she felt everybody slowly scurrying out of the room, The fire crackled in the distance as Ginny spared a smile.

“Hey, Harry,” she said softly.

“Hi there, Gin,” his voice ringed in her ears and Ginny couldn’t help but reel at the name he had called her, the name that seemed right only on his lips. His eyes were still as green as ever, but right now, in the soft light of the fireplace, they seemed golden.

His eyes travelled across her face, and Ginny shuffled uncomfortably as his eyebrows furrowed. “How’s everything going?”

“Good, good,” he said.

Ginny nodded. How long had it been since she’d seen him last? Two years? Three? All she remembered was that the last time they had met, she’d been so utterly devastated, that she had retreated to the closures of her house, and not come out for nearly a week, before Gwenog and Marlene dragged her out.

She didn’t even think she deserved to pine after him. Not when she had been the one to end things.

Irony, she’d fallen in love first, and she’d been the first one to let go.

But right now, him in front of her, she couldn’t help but think that only if they had tried harder, if she’d just held on longer, then this wouldn’t be it. This wouldn’t be the life she’d be leading. One submerged in loneliness, one where her job had become her one and only ultimatum in life.

She could have had a different life with him. A different world.

It was too late to think like that. And it seemed pretty pathetic on her part.

Ginny snapped out of her reverie as Harry called out her name.

“Yeah,” she answered breathlessly.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she repeated. “Completely fine.”

…

So I peered through a window

A deep portal, time travel

All the love we unravel

And the life I gave away

She couldn’t sleep. It was torture, because she was exhausted. She had nearly dozed off during dinner, before being sent up to bed by her mother. It took her back to her younger days. When sleep came easy.

It seemed the moment she landed on her bed, all her sleep vanished in an instant.

Frustrated, she slipped out of bed, carefully, without noise, climbing her way down the stairs. If she had been back at home, she would promptly take a sleep potion, and that would have made things easier. Here, not so much.

Ginny paused by the Christmas tree as she was making her way out the door. After Victoire and Dominique had learned how to walk, they’d resorted to tying the ornaments on the top portion of the tree, out of their reach and even after they had grown up, things had remained that way. Ginny smiled, reaching above her to touch a small toy horse that her dad had whittled for her when she'd been three.

Her younger self had been absolutely elated.

Thankfully, that feeling hadn't changed.

Ginny drew in a breath, before slowly creeping out of the house.

She stopped when she entered the backyard.

Harry.

Ginny gulped, slowly backing away, her steps quickeing as Harry turned his head.

“Ginny, hey.”

She cursed under her breath, then called out to him, the wind carrying her words to him. “I’m sorry, I was leaving-”

“You don’t have to do that.”

Ginny paused yet again, as Harry continued. “I was only leaving, so you can stay -”

“You don’t have to leave because of me,” Ginny stated. “I’ll join you, if that’s okay.”

Harry nodded, then stepped aside to make room for her beside the pumpkin patch, as Ginny walked towards him.

After the Burrow had gone up in Flames all those years ago, they'd worked hard to rebuild it. She couldn't say that it was better than before. But the view from the backyard was absolutely undeniable.

“Couldn’t sleep either, huh?” she asked as she reached the patio, a small smile on her face.

“When have I been able to?” Harry scoffed.

Ginny frowned, then, as if by habit, she asked. “How long has it been since you last slept?”

“Truthfully, um...last night. Ron and I went out for drinks, and I had a good too many, before I passed out. Woke up right before your mum called us for lunch.”

Ginny laughed, and felt Harry look at her. Under the moonlight, and even with the shadows falling on his face, his eyes shone like the light of day.

The silence between them was welcomed.

“How are things, really?” Harry asked her.

“Rough,” Ginny admitted. “Turns out, being a captain is not all that they tell you.”

“You’ve done a marvelous job though,” Harry replied. “The Harpies have had the most number of victories since the Magpies in the last decade.”

So, he had been keeping track of her. Ginny couldn’t help but smile at that.

“How’s things looking in the Ministry?”

“As they are,” Harry replied, as if by habit. But then, as if thinking over his answer twice, he continued. “Kingsley has things mostly under control, but they tend to get out of hand once or twice.”

Ginny nodded, looking out at the lake glistening in the moonlight. She wondered what to ask next. What do you ask someone who’s heart you had broken not even five years ago?

She cleared her throat, then turned towards Harry. “Anybody you’re, umm��with, nowadays?”

Harry turned to her, his arms hanging effortlessly on the railing. His eyes stood fixed on her face for a few seconds, before answering.

“Do you think so?”

“Uhm..” Ginny cleared her throat. “What do you mean?”

“It means no, Gin,” Harry shook his head. “It means I’m not dating anybody.”

“Oh.” Ginny nodded, then turned towards the railing again.

And yet again, they fell into a deafening silence, a silence different that others, the silence that seemed to suffocate her into the same hole she’d led herself to five years ago.

“Would we have worked out if Tomas hadn’t died?” Harry asked suddenly, his voice breaking through the mist and Ginny felt a chill travel through her spine.

She turned towards Harry, her eyes blazing. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, Gin.”

“Are you really asking me that, Harry?”

“Yes,” his voice strained. “I am. Because I have thought about all the things that happened over and over in my head, and I still can’t believe what I did wrong.”

“You did nothing wrong, Harry,” Ginny cried out. How could he think he had done anything wrong when it was her that was the problem?

“Then, tell me, Gin. Speak to me. Tell me what happened that led us to being this way.”

“I don’t know Harry,” Ginny cried out. “You were ready to give up everything just for us, for me, and you think I could have taken it as it is?”

“What was I going to give up?”

“Really, Harry?” Ginny said, agitated. “Because Tomas died, I was able to see how it affected you. How you opting out of missions affected you. He died, and it seemed that you took it all on you.”

Harry shook his head, denying, but Ginny continued.

“You think I don’t know you Harry? The minute that Patronus appeared, you were completely crushed because somehow, you thought that if you had just gone on that mission, he would have lived.”

“That isn't fair. I chose that," Harry said, his voice brimming with something she couldn't recognize. "How many times had it been since we'd had one waking moment with each other? You think I didn't notice the way you hurt with all the times I left you standing with overtime missions and duties?"

"I would have rather you do that than sacrifice doing what you love to be with me."

"That isn't fair."

“It isn’t. My career, it would have led me to be away nine months out of twelve. Yours, the other three. Me sacrificing my career would have led me to destroy myself. You sacrificing it nearly destroyed you.” “And I know,” Ginny’s voice turned heavy, “that maybe if I had bargained with Gwenog, asked her to keep me out of a few matches, then maybe we could have worked something out, but I - “ her voice cracked. “I don’t know why I didn’t do that.”

“You shouldn’t have had to,” Harry said quietly. Ginny couldn't hear the anger within them anymore. He stepped closer to her and raised his hand, his thumb brushing off a stray tear. And just when he was preparing to leave, he paused, and then lightly pressed his lips on Ginny’s forehead.

Ginny closed her eyes, and when she opened them back again after a few minutes, he was gone.

…

He was sunshine, I was midnight rain

He wanted it comfortable

I wanted that pain

He wanted a bride

I was making my own name

Chasing that fame

He stayed the same

All of me changed like midnight

“Did he say when he’ll come back?” Teddy asked Ginny for the third time, and Ginny closed her eyes, her mind straying to the night before the last for what may have been the fiftieth time. Her heart clenched as she shook her head.

“No, Ted, he didn’t tell me anything.”

Teddy frowned, as his hair turned a grimmer shade of blue.

“But it’s Christmas Eve,” Teddy whined. Bill looked at Ginny sadly, and then whispered slightly.

“You want me to take him off your arms?” Bill whispered.

“That’s alright. I could do with the company anyway,” Ginny smiled.

With Victoire and Dominique off with their mother and Hermione, Teddy had been rendered horribly alone. Especially when he missed a certain young blonde.

“Then do you mind if I pop out with the guys for a-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ginny waved him off and Bill pecked her cheek gently, ruffling Teddy’s hair before leaving.

Ginny watched as Teddy messed around with a few trinkets, probably from Zonko’s and then rested her head back on the couch. She shut her eyes, blocking out everything around her.

Harry had not been back since that night. He had floo-ed in, so that no one would worry, but everyone knew. Bill and Ron had been especially protective, making sure Ginny didn’t run off too somewhere.

The fire crackled, the heat from it not nearly enough to warm Ginny. She shivered, and as Teddy noticed, he got up, bringing over a blanket for Ginny.

“Thanks,” Ginny smiled as Teddy made herself comfortable beside her.

“I don’t like that the both of you are always so sad during Christmas,” Teddy muttered, and Ginny looked at him in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

“You and Harry,” Teddy motioned with his eyebrows, “you know, all that drama.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow, and Teddy huffed. “I’m not a child, you know.”

Somehow, that seemed funny to Ginny, the way he sounded so much like Harry. Her heart clenched as she thought about him, and she shuffled to get warmer.

“Are you still cold?” Teddy asked and Ginny shook her head.

“I’m good.”

Teddy nodded, sinking into deep thought, and Ginny watched as his hair changed into green and then turquoise before turning back into blue. She smiled sadly, her thoughts turning to his mother.

“He still loves you a lot,” Teddy stated suddenly. “More than a lot actually.”

And yet again, Ginny was rendered speechless. Teddy looked at Ginny, and then winced. “I don’t think I was supposed to say that.”

Ginny chuckled weakly, then closed her eyes, reeling from what he’d just said.

“Do you love him?”

Her eyes snapped back open.

“Huh?”

“Do you love him?” Teddy asked again.

“Yeah,” Ginny admitted, albeit breathlessly. “I do. Of course I do. More than I know.”

Teddy nodded, and then, with a triumphant smile on his face, muttered under his breath.

“I knew it.”

…

Rain, he wanted it comfortable

I wanted that pain

He wanted a bride

I was making my own name

Chasing that fame

He stayed the same

All of me changed

Like midnight rain.

She watched with bated breath, as the train that would take her to the Apparating Station arrived on the platform. Not a lot had happened since Christmas Eve, but it seemed a long way away now, even though it had been only a week.

Christmas had not even started fully, that the Quidditch Authorities had sent an official letter to all Quidditch Captains and Managers to report to Ireland, or the official Management Quarters with their entire team roster, and details. Apparently, some of them had been using broom enhancement potions in secret to win matches, and now the Authority wanted to review everybody’s position in the roster.

It was bollocks, Ginny had thought personally. The fact that this had happened on Christmas too hadn’t helped matters, and she had chewed off the wizard who had met with her at the Department. It had only led to a stricter review of her team members, but to no avail, as it returned absolutely spotless.

And very well so too. Her team was as good as they came, she had thought angrily.

Now that she was back in London, all she had to do was get on the train and reach the Apparating Station so that she could get back home and sleep.

Merlin knows, she needed that.

As she got up on the train, Ginny thought back to her conversation with Teddy. How a conversation with a teenager wanted to make her try things again, she had no idea, but for a moment there, she had wanted to.

And perhaps, she would have too, when Harry got back. But, that clearly hadn’t happened, and now as she rested her head on her seat bench, opposite to a sleeping Muggle lady, she let herself think what hurt her to the core.

Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.

Ginny closed her eyes, letting the train lull her into a sleep.

…

It hadn’t even been half an hour when the train screeched to a stop. Ginny jerked awake, wiping at some stray drool at the corner of her mouth. She smiled briefly at the lady opposite to her, before she hurried out of the train.

It was when she stepped on the platform that she allowed herself to look at her overly-familiar surroundings. After spending nearly her entire life in London, she had grown to become accustomed to it, and now, as her eyes scanned over the crowd filled with Muggles and Wizards, her eyes landed over a pair that were too familiar to be true.

Ginny blinked, then looked away to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.

But no, there was no denying it.

It was him.

“Harry,” she said breathlessly, as they both started walking towards each other at the same time.

“Hey, Gin,” he smiled, and Ginny chuckled in surprise.

“Were you waiting for me?”

His eyes told her whatever she wanted to know, so she nodded, avoiding his eyes.

“Uhmm…my house, we can just apparate there from here,” she said, as Harry nodded. “We can go there and talk.”

Ginny felt her heart hammering against her chest, as she motioned him towards the Apartment Compartment, which was basically an Old London telephone booth now.

Without saying a word, Ginny gripped his sleeve, as they both Apparated right in front of their house.

“Come on then,” she said, as she tapped her wand three times against the door to open it.

Harry followed her wordless, and it was not before the door had closed behind them did Ginny utter a word.

“The house is messy, but don’t mind it,” she stated blankly. Then, after mulling it over her head, she hesitantly started, “What do you want to talk about?”

Harry looked straight at her as he started speaking. “Teddy told me,” he stated.

Ginny swallowed, and then looked away from him, afraid to glance into his eyes. Her heart hammered painfully in her chest.

“I thought it would only be right if it was me who told you what my nosy grandson did.”

Ginny chuckled drily, and then looked at Harry, her eyes glistening with tears.

“Harry,” she warned.

“What, Ginny?” he said, as he took a step closer to her. “Am I supposed to deny what Ted told you? Because I can’t do that. Not when every word he said was true.”

“Harry,” Ginny’s voice broke, as Harry stepped even closer. But even with her denial of what was happening at the moment, she couldn’t step back.

“I love you, Gin,” Harry said softly. “Merlin knows, I have loved you since that day in the Common Room, even before that and I don’t think that there is any way or any thing in this world that would stop me from doing so.”

“Harry -”

“No, hear me out, Gin. Please,” Harry begged. “We know all too well that every word you said that night was true, but somehow, I can’t quite comprehend it. Let’s try this, Gin. Let’s try this one more time, because I don’t think I could settle with the world if we didn’t try again.”

Ginny looked up at him, the gap between them becoming increasingly smaller as she stepped closer. Her fingers wrapped around his, as she closed her eyes. She’d spent five years thinking and thinking and thinking yet again about all of this. And she’d decided, that back then, when they had been younger and the world had seemed a bit more conquerable, they had not known what they probably knew all too well now.

That they couldn’t live without each other.

That Ginny couldn’t live without Harry.

“If you don’t want this Gin, tell me now, and I swear to Merlin, I’ll never bring this up again -”

“No,” Ginny said, her voice strong. She cracked a teary smile, and then let her fingers intertwine with his. “I want this, Harry. I want it too.”

She drew in a breath, and then repeated her thoughts, loud and clear. “This time, it’s just going to be you and me against the world Potter. Just us. And nobody else.”

Her voice wobbled, as her eyes filled with tears. She didn't think she'd survive if she lost this man again, and though she was stepping into hellfire at the moment, she hoped it would be worth it.

And as Harry looked at her with those clear green eyes, as he brought her face closer and captured her lips in a kiss, she let herself be drowned in that bliss she'd denied herself for so many years. And after years of being apart, those lips felt like home.

Just them against the world.

And as they pulled apart, and Ginny looked into the eyes of the man she had loved and missed for so long, a smile broke on her face, a bright smile; a smile that she herself had missed for so long.

“Remind me to thank Teddy for this,” she chuckled, and Harry joined her, leaning their foreheads against each other, his arms around her waist, hers around his.

“I will,” he said, finally.

And Ginny laughed.

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booksforevermore13 · 1 year

Text

Promise me not to hide yourself when you're in pain, it's unfair that we laughed together but you cried alone.

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booksforevermore13 · 1 year

Text

Real

Summary: “Don’t say it,” she cried. “Wait. Please.” She looked at him, her tears straining to fall. “Say it when it feels real.” A month after the war, when the lines seem blurred, Ginny realises that they are the only thing that mattered. Trigger warning for mentions of trauma after the war

Read on AO3 or Fanfiction.

...

“I love you. Real or not Real?”

“Real.”

...

She had a hard time these days, trying to figure out what’s real. Trying to figure out what’s not.

Today, for example, she was trying to drown out the cries. Somebody in the village had lost their son. Someone had lost both son and husband. And yet somebody else had lost their life and everything they held dear to them.

She’d go back home to more crying. Today, instead of her mum crying over Fred, she’d be crying over George, who had been missing for over a week. No one ever said it out loud, but everyone had started suspecting the worst. And everyone was hoping for everything but.

The rest of her brothers were rarely at home. Percy was out looking for George, coming home late at night, disappearing without dinner. She’d seen Bill and Charlie last at Fred’s funeral. Ron was no different. Her dad on the other hand, had made Hogwarts his home, coming back to the Burrow in the early hours of the morning after going without food or even water for most of the day.

She, well, she was at the village now because they were out of whatever food they had left.

After Fred’s funeral, Ginny felt that her mum had given up on whatever strength she had had left inside of her. Like she had started accepting something that threatened to tear her apart.

The only difference between her mum and her was the fact that Ginny didn’t think about it. Because if she thought about it, then that hollow feeling in her heart would seem to cave in around her, and right now, her mum couldn’t afford that.

She couldn’t afford that.

That’s why she had stopped. Her actions, which had been a week before, cries for help, had become instead what seemed to help at the moment.

That’s why when she returned to the Burrow, weighed down by whatever supplies she could find, and heard his voice, she didn’t cry out. She didn’t drop her bags and run to him, like she’d thought she would. Instead, she simply looked at him, simply took in the fact that he was alive and in front of her.

Even being able to think that seemed like a blessing these days.

And then she saw her Dad. Like a jolt in her reverie. His leg bandaged up, blood stains on his torn trousers. Her eyes went up to Harry, who had simply been looking at her, without a sound, a word.

“What happened to him?”

“Boulder crushed his leg. Probably broken by one of the giants.”

“And I suppose my dad’s leg was the lucky giveaway,” she snapped. It came out harsher than she’d meant for it to sound, but she wasn’t in the mood for jokes. Already, she could feel that panic bubbling in her throat. Knowing fully well that if it wasn’t her dad’s leg, it could essentially have been him.

And if her dad died, then….then she couldn’t even begin to start thinking about it.

Harry remained silent, and almost immediately, Ginny regretted her words. She had spoken without tact, her months of frustration struggling to be let out. Mostly, she couldn’t believe that the first time they were talking to each other, really talking to each other, it was like this.

“I should go,” Harry muttered, shuffling backward without an answer. Ginny didn’t think she could give him one.

And before she could find in herself the courage to stop him, he had already disappeared into thin air.

Ginny sighed, and then glared at the pain-riddled face of her father.

…

She remembered the last time she’d seen him. The day it had ended. She remembered his haggard face, his tear-laden eyes as she had pulled him into her arms. They had both broken in front of each other that day. Neither had been able to comfort the other.

Beside her, she heard her dad slowly getting up from the couch. Ginny turned and then gently pushed him back.

“Ginny dear, it was my fault,” her dad wheezed out, and her eyes flicked back to him, all hopes of containing her anger lost to the world.

“I never said anything about anyone’s fault,” she gritted out. “Just happy to remind you that you have a crying wife at home, who’s passed out now upstairs after crying herself to sleep. Without having anything to eat. Because apparently, eating something would be absolutely abominable to the thought of my dead brother.”

Her father winced, and Ginny blinked back tears, furious at herself for letting those words out of her mouth. Already, the pain at the back of her throat was back, and her gaze shifted from her father’s eyes to the floor, where it remained fixed.

“Darling, I get that you're angry-”

“I’m not angry, Dad. I’m just…I’m tired,” she sighed, her voice slightly shaking from exhaustion. “I’m trying to keep mum together, but I’m not the one she needs right now. She needs you, and you’re never at home, while I’m here all the time when I don’t even want to be. And now, you’ve gone and broken your leg, and I am struggling here Dad, because I don’t know what to do,” she said, and she couldn’t help her throat from clogging in the end, her words coming out heavy and warped.

“Oh, Ginny, I’m terribly sorry. I’m so sorry -”

“Don’t,” she cried, “don’t be sorry, Dad. You have nothing to be sorry about. Just…just take care of Mum, and stay. Because I don’t want to anymore.”

She turned away, blinked back her tears, trying her hardest to keep the sobs at bay. When she finally looked back at him, she met with his concerned eyes. They did nothing but remind her of the words she had said to him.

“You know,” her father began, “he came here to see you. To see how you were doing.”

“That’s evident,” she snapped, her anger flaring up. “He barely said two words to me.”

“That’s because he’s-”

“I know Dad. I know. Just,” she sighed. “I’ll help you up.”

And when she finally let her head touch her pillow, completely prepared to let a few of her tears out, Ginny realised that as hard as she tried, the tears just….wouldn’t come.

They just wouldn’t.

The next day, she made sure the house was in order, kissed her mum goodbye, and left for Hogwarts.

….

Like history repeating itself, they stood, once again, in the middle of the dust and rubble. Where the dust settled in a quiet haze over all the pain underneath.

“There wasn’t much to do at the Burrow,” she said. She couldn’t bring herself to call it a home. It didn’t feel like one anymore. It hadn’t for a year now.

Harry remained silent. Weirdly, Ginny felt a pang of annoyance at that. They’d not seen each other for weeks, no, he’d not let her see him for weeks, hadn’t let her talk to him, touch him, fucking kiss him, and he didn’t have a thing to say? While she could barely sleep at night without thinking of him and whether he was alive or dead, or whether he had finally given up and got done with it. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had the thought surface once in a while herself. Ginny had just gotten better at suppressing it every time it came up. But right now, after weeks of not seeing each other, all he could do was remain silent? “Are you okay?” And it was the first time in a while she had heard any feeling in his voice whatsoever.

Ginny fixed her gaze at him, unflinchingly, then asked, “Are you?”

He looked at her then, fully looked at her, the way Ginny had been wanting him to look at her since the day she’d seen him again over a month ago. But it wasn’t how she had imagined it to be. For his eyes were not the same green that they were when she’d last let herself look into them. No, these eyes held pain that mirrored hers. Somehow, she felt she’d seen them again for the first time.

Slowly, he shook his head. And then, lowered his gaze. As if admitting to a fault was worse than enduring it.

“Then why don’t you say it?” she whispered, her words only for him and him alone.

He didn’t look up, but Ginny knew.

…

She had a hard time these days, trying to figure out what’s real. Trying to figure out what’s not.

That’s why, when she heard that they had uncovered the bodies of two fifth years from the rubble, her heart clenched in a way that she felt she couldn't breathe.

“Who were they?” she asked Oliver Wood, who’d brought in the news.

“Matilde Fairfeather and Sean Curnell. They’d snuck in, I suppose. Their bodies….” he trailed off, “they aren’t in very good shape. Werewolves.”

Just the thought of it made her want to empty her guts out. This, this wasn’t fair. They were just children.

So were we, she thought. Once.

Somehow, she felt that their deaths were on her. That they were her fault. Because she had been in charge of taking care of them for the past year, because she had been the one to make sure that they had got back home safe, just for them to return back and do the one thing she had told them not to do.

She remembered Matilde. Her long blonde hair and dimpled chin. Sean and her were always joined to the hip.

Ginny stood up to leave when Oliver stopped her.

“Ginny,” he called, then hesitated. “It-it was Harry who found them. He….he, well, I don’t think he is in a very good shape now.”

“Where is he?”

“Last, I saw him, he was in the Common Room…”

Ginny didn't hesitate. She ran, the shortcuts practically burnt to her memory now, with the amount of times she had taken them to save herself and everyone else from the Carrows.

When she reached the common room, Ginny paused, debating whether she should go up, the voice inside of her doubting her intentions. Whether they were valid. Whether she should.

Before she could stop though, she began climbing the stairs to the boys dormitory. While the girls’ had been completely destroyed in the rubble, the boys’ had still somehow stayed intact.

She stopped when she saw his figure. His back towards her, hands clenched around the wood of the bed. Ginny stepped forward, then hesitated when she saw a tremor pass through him.

“Harry,” she whispered. “Harry, it’s-it’s me.”

She didn’t know how that would help. How her being there would help. She hadn’t been able to help her mother, what help would she be to him?

“Gin-” his voice broke, and Ginny felt a tear slipping out of her own eye. “Gin, I can’t breathe.”

His back tensed when she touched him, and she snatched it away, scared to make it worse.

“Harry,” she whispered, her voice quivering. She had no idea what to do. She had not one fucking idea whether she should stay away from him, or touch him, or hug him, or fucking wipe his tears for him, because he hadn’t let her near him for weeks. He hadn’t let her touch him or wait one moment to speak to him, let alone let her comfort him or let her be comforted.

It had destroyed her.

“Harry,” she choked, “I don’t know what to do. I don’t-I-I’ve-I have no idea what to do Harry.” “Gin,” his voice came out, begging. “I’m sorry,” he gasped.

He had nothing to be sorry for.

And then she was turning him around, forcing him to look into her eyes, as he struggled to catch his breath, while she struggled to keep him from tipping over the edge.

“Look at me,” she urged.

It was all she could do to hold herself together.

“Stay with me.”

His hands wrapped around her forearms and for a second, they were both holding each other steady but Ginny could feel his breathing become worse.

For a split second, she was frozen in time. Then she let his hands fall around her waist, as she gently caressed his face with her fingers and pushed herself on her tiptoes to kiss him.

It was all she could do to keep them from sinking.

It was all she could do to keep him afloat.

His lips were rough against hers, and she could taste the stinging taste of blood on them, but even amidst the pain, it was as if she was back in the Common Room again, kissing amongst hundreds but knowing it was just them. Even amidst the pain, it was magical.

And just as she felt him give in completely to the kiss, his arms tightening around her, she let go. Though his lips were the last thing she wanted to stay away from.

She hadn't realised she was crying. But Harry’s haggard breathing and his thumbs against her cheeks, wiping the tears away, brought her back from the dream she had let herself get immersed in.

Harry rested his head on her shoulder, and Ginny held him, burying her face in his shirt, letting the tears fall more freely now. But she waited, waited until his breathing slowed down.

“Is it better?” she choked out, when she could hear his gasps no longer.

“It is,” he replied, and this time, Ginny could see it was genuine.

But that didn’t change the pain they were in.

That didn’t change the words she wanted to say to him.

Ginny looked up at Harry, her throat burning from the weight of what she wanted to say to him. This time, she didn’t wait. She didn’t let that voice inside overcome her.

“I love you,” she breathed out, “I love you, Harry.”

There were few things that seemed real to her these days, and this was one of them. It was only right that he knew it too.

Harry looked at her then, stormy green eyes to her own burnt brown ones, and even after so many days apart, she clearly knew what he was feeling inside. What he would say next.

But Ginny didn’t want it that way.

“Don’t,” she rasped out. She could feel her throat choking again, her words getting stuck in her throat, but she wanted them out before they could suffocate her. “Don’t say it,” she cried. “Wait. Please.” She looked at him, her tears straining to fall. “Say it when it feels real.”

“It is real Gin,” he said, holding her tightly as if he was afraid to let go. “It is real to me.”

“Wait,” she said again, begging him to understand what she was trying to say through her eyes. He was the only one who could. He was the only one who looked at her that way.

Then he nodded, kissing her as if she was the only thing that mattered.

And as if momentarily, Ginny realised that in a way, they were the only thing that mattered.

And amongst the pain and the rubble, with his strong body pressed against hers, Ginny realised that she wanted this. This love. All of this love. With every fibre and bone in her body.

And she was never going to let go.

… …

…

Months later, when they stand together, it’s him who looks at her.

The storm in his eyes was a gentler wind now, the green that had threatened to destroy anything and everything around him had turned back to the green that promised rebirth instead of destruction. Hers had remained that burning brown, but the raging fire had kindled into the warm ones by the coal.

She didn’t mind them that way.

With his hands entwined in hers, the wave that had threatened to drown them had peaked instead of swallowing them entirely.

Now he looked at her, smiling, and his hands brushed away the few stray hairs on her face, before tilting her chin to meet his gaze.

“I love you.”

And the whole world seemed to stop.

She had a hard time these days, trying to figure out what’s real. Trying to figure out what’s not.

This, she figured, was as real as could be.

“I love you too.”

Months later, when they stand together, it’s green to brown.

It’s everything as it should be.

#hinny #harry potter #ginny weasley #hinny angst #angst #romance #hurt/comfort #trauma #heartbreak #angst with a happy ending #angst with comfort #sad #hopeful #death #romantic #hinny fanfiction #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #family

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booksforevermore13 · 1 year

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Late night cravings

Summary: Midnights are the ideal time for Ginny to realize she loves brownies. And bananas. And the need for Harry to make her some. Pure fluff.

A/N: A short something I wrote after a highly stressful week. Plotline suggested by the all-wonderful @chef-hagrid.

...

“Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind

Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in.”

...

This was the second night in a row, she couldn’t sleep. Midnights, she decided, were positively more tiresome than the mornings.

Ginny turned around again, careful not to roll over on her belly. She huffed, frowning as she felt the cold absence of her husband beside her on the bed.

She was hungry, she realised. Which was odd. It hadn’t been even three whole hours since she had eaten.

Ginny wasn’t even really hungry, she realised. She just…she was just hungry for brownies. And bananas. Especially bananas. Ginny groaned, then got up, her back cracking as she sat up on the bed.

“Fuck it,” she cursed, as she put on her slippers and headed towards the kitchen. She hated it when Harry was off on his night missions, leaving her all alone in the house. Especially now, when she was so satirically lonely. And hungry.

Come to think of it now, Harry really had been going on quite a few night missions lately. This week alone, he had not been home at all during the nights.

Ginny brought out a pan, turned on the oven, then left everything on the counter and gazed at the clock. Four more hours and he’d be back home. Before he’d have to leave again.

She huffed, then set to work. While she didn’t know, per say, how to make brownies, Ginny figured….it wouldn’t be that hard. Flour, eggs, cocoa, milk, how hard could it really be?

She had never even cracked eggs before though. Something about a glob of slimy things coming out of a cracked shell irked her. She’d seen Harry make eggs before, seen her mum too. Last time she was at Hermione and Ron’s, she’d helped Hermione make dinner, and Hermione had made eggs too. Eggs weren’t hard.

Obviously.

One and a half hours later, Ginny rethought her statement.

Eggs were hard. So was flour, cocoa, and the weird bitter tasting powder that Ginny had measured up in a small bowl and left aside.

She stepped back, her clothes lathered in egg whites and flour, frustration clouding all rational thoughts in her head.

“When the hell is he going to come back?” she muttered angrily, throwing her apron aside, as she switched off the now hot oven. In a fit of rage, she scooped up some cocoa into her mouth and then grabbed a banana, biting into it to lighten the bitter feeling in her mouth.

“Brownies can go to hell,” she muttered, stomping back into the bedroom, flinging the banana peel into the bin.

And as Ginny got back into the bed again, she glanced once again at the clock, noting the time until he’d be back beside her.

It wasn’t even something she tried to hide, but she missed him.

Terribly.

…

As luck would have it, as would the sun, when Ginny woke up, she was tucked against his side.

Even without opening her eyes, his mere scent comforted her, nearly lulling her back to sleep.

Ginny opened her eyes, looking up to see the sleeping form of her husband.

His hair lay messily on his forehead, his eyes crinkling once in a while as he slept. Ginny smiled, all her frustration towards him the previous night vanished in a trace.

“Staring’s considered rude, you know,” Harry said softly, and Ginny smiled, lightly brushing her hand through his hair.

“Well, excuse me for staring at my husband,” she quipped and Harry opened his eyes, gazing down at her with those bright green eyes.

“Three years and I still can’t believe it sometimes,” he softly said.

“Believe what?”

“That you call me husband.”

Ginny laughed, her laugh echoing through the room, the sunlight trickling in through the gap in the curtains. She placed her hand on her belly as if by instinct, then looked up at Harry, a smile on her face.

“So..” Harry smirked, “you want to tell me what happened in the kitchen last night?”

The smile vanished. Ginny made a face, and then frowned up at him. “I was hungry -”

“I figured.”

“- for brownies.”

Harry lightly chuckled, then grabbed his glasses from the bedside table, putting them on before turning to face his wife.

“It isn’t even just brownies,” she went on. “Bananas. I have an inhuman, unexplainable craving for bananas, and old me would just be.. borderline revolted, but I can’t stop thinking about banana puddings, and banana chips, and -”

“- bananas in general,” Harry finished. “You know there could be a dozen more interpretations of that,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow suggestively, laughing as Ginny lightly smacked him on the arm.

“Anyway,” Ginny rolled her eyes, “I, yes I, was trying to make banana brownies last night, but as you already saw, that went exactly as I wanted it to.”

Harry laughed, bringing Ginny closer to his face, before kissing her gently on the forehead. Then, as if deep in thought, he buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply.

“You want me to whip up a fresh batch?” he said, his voice muffled by her hair.

“Really?” Ginny grinned, her eyes lighting up almost immediately, “you up for that?”

“Always, madame,” Harry smiled, rolling out of bed, and bowing gallantly, smiling at Ginny’s laughing figure.

In the morning, she realised, all was well.

…

...

It clearly wasn’t, she thought, as she waddled over to the kitchen.

Harry hadn’t left for work. Which was odd. He hadn’t even jumped at the chance of getting in some more sleep, which was even odder. Yes, it was very Harry-like to get up in the morning and get to making brownies at Ginny’s request, but after a long night of work, she’d thought he’d at least get in a few extra hours in the morning.

In fact, she’d be the one to tell him to stay in bed, because even under the smiling face, and bright green eyes, Ginny knew that he was, to an extent, exhausted.

Except, he wasn’t now. Heck, he was even whistling some distinct tune she could swear she’d heard somewhere before.

Unlike her frenzied self last night, Harry held a natural control of the kitchen, whipping batter into bowls, mixing in the eggs, and also, weirdly using the bitter powder she’d left aside last night.

He stopped momentarily, looking up as Ginny entered the kitchen.

“You want them to be extra chocolatey, or just bananas and plain chocolate?” he asked.

“Umm.. just bananas and chocolate please,” Ginny said as she carefully sat herself beside the counter. She observed Harry manoeuvring swiftly around the kitchen, a little envious about the ease with which he was doing things she was struggling with last night, before she cleared her throat.

“You don’t have to go to work?” she asked hesitantly.

“I was wondering when you were going to ask that.” Harry turned around, a wide smile on his face.

Ginny wondered what was going to come next.

“Well,” Harry kept aside the bowl, wiping his hands on his shirt, “I’m taking a break.”

“What?” Ginny frowned.

“Not a break, saying, I’ll not go to work, not like that,” he said. “A break meaning, there will be no more night missions, no staying at work too late; I hope, even more days off. At least, until the baby comes.”

Ginny stared at him in disbelief. “Are you serious?” she said, voice full of hesitation. “I mean, it’s just been four months and -”

“I know, Gin. But, you might think I haven’t noticed, but I know I’m gone more than I should be.”

And it was true, he was. And she worried about him. Especially nowadays, as he left for his missions, it was as if she held in her breath before he returned again. So, she simply nodded at him, as Harry tucked in a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“I mean, you’re pregnant,” he smiled. “In a few months, we’re going to be parents, and I have absolutely no idea how we’ll do that, but we’ll do that together too.”

He put his arms around her chair, pressing his lips on her forehead. “I know I’ve not been home much the last few months, but I will now. I promise.”

“I’m glad,” Ginny said, resting her forehead against Harry’s chest. “I really have been missing you tremendously the past few weeks.”

“I’ll make you banana brownies to cover up for it,” he whispered back.

“You better.”

Harry chuckled, bending down to kiss her. Then, he lightly placed his hand on her belly, looking up at her as she placed her hand over his.

Ginny gazed into his eyes, the warmth in them comforting her, in the same way she had always been comforted when she looked at him.

“I’ve been thinking of names,” she said.

“That’s dangerous,” Harry quipped, “the last time you named something, you named it after a pig.”

“I did not,” Ginny said indignantly.

And it was the little tell-tale signs that made her realise as they argued that everything was really going to be okay, even if she developed an unflinching love for brownies, even if they named their first child after something horrendous, everything was really going to be alright.

#hinny #domestic hinny #pregnancy fic #pregnant ginny #hinny fanfiction #hinny fic #fluff #romance #first child #moments #late nights #late night hinny #missing harry #family #to be parents #just a cute little fic #harry potter #ginny weasley

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booksforevermore13 · 1 year

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all of me changed like midnight.

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booksforevermore13 · 1 year

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meet me at midnight

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booksforevermore13 · 2 years

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Little miss is the eldest daughter, so she cries alone, has anger issues, is the parents parent, consider herself as a burden, is emotionally instable, gets anxious on small misheadings, has anger issues, is siblings third parent, break every rule, has matured before age and has anger issues.

#dead poets aesthetic #eldest daughter #toxicity #relatable af #eldest duaghter #third parent #stand in parent #emotional health #emotional intelligence #anxiety #sadness

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booksforevermore13 · 2 years

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it's going to be alright

Summary: After the war, they heal back together. But it's a long time before he sees her scars. Hinny, hurt/comfort

A/N: This was requested by @chef-hagrid a long, long time ago. I'm sorry it's taken so long to write, but I hope you like it :D

...

When the rain stops, then darling, what will I do? And I know I go all in, but why do I? You give me a reason, something to believe in, I know, I know, I know. You give me a meaning, something I can breathe in, I know, I know, I know.

...

When he woke up, Harry found Ginny’s arm over his chest, his head tucked under her. Ginny was asleep, her soft breaths lulling him into a daze. Harry allowed himself to close his eyes before he realised why they were in such a position. The nightmare.

Lately, in the mornings; Harry struggled to recall everything that had happened the previous night. The nightmare. What he had seen. What he had done. The first time it had happened, Ginny had been there to calm him down. Somehow, the prospect of not remembering anything terrified him. It had taken weeks for him to get used to the idea, but he had finally come to a point where he didn’t immediately burst into full blown panic upon waking up.

Harry sighed, then gently eased Ginny into a more comfortable position. Part of him felt guilty that she had had to stay in that position all night, but he gently pulled her up, caressing her hair as her back tensed.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered, gently kissing her forehead before pulling up her covers for her.

Harry smiled as the sunlight fell over her hair, rendering it into a soft shade of red that reminded him of the sun peeking through a million falling autumn leaves. She was beautiful, he thought, his eyes flickering over her body, before they rested on the small cluster of marks peeking through the nape of her shirt.

His eyebrows furrowed as he reached forward, gently nudging her shirt a few centimetres to get a better look at what he hoped would not be what he was thinking.

And it seemed as if his whole world stopped for a silent moment.

Scars.

From what Harry could see, they were all over that small part of her back, and he could bet they spread all over her back too.

How had she gotten those? Why….why hadn’t she told him about them? What the hell had happened to her?

Harry collapsed back on the bed, his heart stricken by what he had seen, his mind conjuring up a dozen wild scenarios of Ginny being in pain, or being tortured, and he gulped down his panic, willing the thoughts to go away.

Is that why she had insisted on wearing oversized shirts the entire summer, never opting for anything else? Now that he thought about it, Ginny had never really spoken about that past year, what had happened in Hogwarts, what had happened to her. She had always only told him about the routine searches or the interrogations that the teachers had subjugated them to, and that was it.

How had he been so dense as to not suspect something else? Because he was damn sure those scars had not been there when he’d left.

“You awake?” he heard Ginny’s voice, and he let his hand drop from over his eyes, turning to look at her. Her eyes shone brilliantly, gazing into his as she smiled.

Somehow, Harry couldn’t bear to smile back.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowing just slightly and Harry sighed, pulling her into his embrace, as he wrapped his arms around her, the covers haphazardly over them. Ginny smiled into his shoulder, and Harry, once again, couldn’t help but let his eyes flicker over to the place where he had seen her scars. Again, they had been covered, and he shut his eyes, letting his head rest against Ginny’s.

Somehow, he just couldn’t bear to ask.

…

The weeks after the war had been especially hard for the Weasleys. Even Harry, being a mere observer could see that. Every morning, as he got himself up and made his way to the table, it was plain visible that there was an absence. An absence that the Weasleys felt hard.

While George had resorted to making home at his shop, Percy kept him company while also making sure he remained alive. Bill and Charlie had left soon after the second week, helping at Hogwarts, at the bank, at Diagon Alley. So, that left the two youngest Weasleys taking care of the family. And it was clear that they were drowning.

It was after Harry had found Ginny lying motionless on her bed, tears falling from her eyes without sound when he offered they move into 12 Grimmauld Place. The months had passed quickly, very quickly after that. And right now, mid-November, what they had was everything they could have ever asked for. So, there they were now, Harry beating up four eggs for breakfast and Ginny furiously cleaning up the muck that the wind had blown in. Now that she was officially of age, the wand was at her leisure and in no time at all, she was gazing into the hot pan, where the eggs were cooking.

Harry smiled fondly at her, before looking away, chopping the bread up furiously. The incidents of the morning still played in his mind, as his knife thudded on the chopping board.

“You know I’d cook,” Ginny started, “but I’m afraid I could possibly set the house on fire.”

Harry chuckled, dropping the bread into the same pan.

“Kreacher would kill me,” she finished dramatically.

Ginny walked slowly over to where he was standing, and gently placed her hands over his. “That was your cue to tell me what’s wrong, you know,” she said, and Harry looked at her, taking note of the all too knowing look in her eyes.

But before he could say anything else, Ginny reached forward over the counter and turned off the gas, placing a lid over the pan in the process.

“It’s about the scars, isn’t it?” she said, looking away from his eyes.

Harry’s eyes flicked up in shock, and Ginny laughed softly. Her laugh seemed forced, and Harry couldn’t help but notice her sudden change in demeanour.

“I know you saw them this morning, Harry. So, if this is about them, it’s your cue to ask.”

“Why didn’t..,” Harry stopped himself. “What happened, Gin?”

Ginny remained silent, as Harry walked over to her, lifting her chin up until she looked into his eyes, brown to green.

“Like I said, Harry,” she began, “the past year was not exactly what I expected at Hogwarts.”

“You need to tell me something more than that Gin, please,” Harry begged. “What really happened to you, Gin?”

“They….,” Ginny sighed. “ You know what they did. They tortured us, Harry. They tortured us at every moment they got. It was like a sick sadistic pastime of theirs, because they knew it was the only way they could break us.”

She leaned on the counter, looking up at Harry. “I remember, there was a girl, a Muggleborn. It started with her, I think. Amanda Seyheir, she was called. The Carrows somehow learnt that she was one and they,” her voice broke. “They killed her.”

She closed her eyes, turning her head away from Harry. “I couldn’t save her Harry, and because I couldn’t save her, I had to save the rest of them.”

Harry remained where she was, because it was the way she was speaking that got to him. As if it was something that she had gotten used to saying, something she had become used to seeing.

He stepped forward, but he had no idea what he should have said.

“The Carrows….once they had no more Muggleborns to torture, they started with us. Neville, Luna…Luna, she escaped, we helped her to, what with everything her father wrote for the Quibbler and all. But the rest of us stayed.”

And Harry understood. What she was leaving out. Why, in those long months, she had never spoken about it.

“What did they do?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“The usual,” she answered flippantly, but Harry could sense the slight tremor in her voice. “The Cruciatus mostly, hexes; they once went through a phase of using something called Serpent - “

“Serpentsortia,” Harry ended, his heart clenching in horror.

Ginny looked at him, her eyes having a far-away look in them. “Was that the one that Snape…Draco….”

“Yeah,” Harry admitted, his eyes blazing with anger. If he had known, if only. “Can I,” he asked hesitantly, “can I see them?”

Ginny looked away, her eyes blazing with emotion. “They’re not exactly something I’m proud of,” she said darkly, turning away from him.

Harry stepped forward towards her, then let his hands pull Ginny towards him, her back against his chest. Ginny let out a breath, and rested her head on him. As Harry touched her arms, he could feel a slight tremor going through them.

“I love you Gin,” he whispered. “I’ve got you. It’s going to be…,” Harry hesitated. “It’s going to be alright.”

…

False promises may be, but when Ginny entered the room that night, in nothing but a tank top for the first time in a long while, Harry let his eyes caress over her arms, over her scars that started from her neck and went all the way over her back.

Ginny shuddered as his fingers traced over the long jagged scar on her shoulder, the remains of a badly performed splinching hex.

“Do they hurt?”

“No,” Ginny replied. “It’s been a long while since they’ve hurted.”

She wouldn’t look at him, he noticed. So Harry gently cupped her face as he made her look into his eyes.

“Gin, those scars,” he said, “they mean you fought a battle you won. You told me that, remember?”

“We,” she said, her voice shaking. “We fought a losing battle for a very long while. You don’t realise Harry, but for eight months we heard nothing. Absolutely nothing. And every single day I woke up thinking it would be the day I heard the news you were dead. We,” her voice broke. “We didn’t think we’d survive.”

Harry’s heart clenched as he watched the woman who had been strong for both of them for so long crumble before his eyes.

“And the worst part of it was that,” her voice shuddering, “that every day I woke up thinking ‘again? I had to do this all over again? Had the world not had enough?’” She closed her eyes, then whispered. “And that’s why….I’m not proud of this Harry. I’m not.”

It was Harry who closed the dwindling space between them. Because he needed her to know that he loved her. With her scars. She had been strong for so long. He needed her to know that it was his turn now, if she’d let him.

“I love you as you are,” he said. “Exactly as you are.”

And as her tears started falling, it was Harry who held her close to him, making sure to wipe away the tears now and again.

And that was the way they spent the night, in each other’s arms, fully aware that a part of them were broken, but right now, they knew they could lean on the other to get through the storm.

…

So, as the quiet rustle of the leaves coloured in different shades of gold ceased, the soft white dust started falling on the upper side of them. Just like that, their world seemed to get slower. A little turbulent perhaps, like the icy cold wind that entered their house sometimes as the temperature dipped even lower, but hadn’t it been that way since the beginning?

They needed each other, Harry realised. Though a part of him had known this since the moment he had kissed her in their Common Room.

He still wakes up at night, riddled with nightmares.

Ginny’s the same, her horrors seeming to engulf her entire purpose at times.

They still pull each out of the water, keep each other afloat.

But there will be one day, Ginny says to him, when they’ll look at their scars and have a story to tell. It might not be now, but it will be.

He’ll love her forever, he tells her then. Ginny laughs, telling him forever’s longer than what they’ll live for.

But he doesn’t tell her that what they have is forever for him. So he’ll love her forever as long as he lives, their scars shining brighter every day.

And that’s the way it will always be.

...

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