Work Text:
Title: Together
Author/Artist:
Prompt: H17
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ginny and Harry renew their relationship after the Battle of Hogwarts.
Word Count: ~ 1550
Warning(s)/Contains: none
Author's Note: Thank you to our awesome mod for having patience!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Ginny gasped as she saw Harry dead in Hagrid’s arms. Tears streamed down her face as she saw Fred dead on the floor of the Great Hall, his head in George’s lap. Her heart clenched since George looked dead, too, his eyes hollow. The green light from Bellatrix’s wand struck her mum, who fell to the floor. Ginny screamed.
Ginny was sitting up in bed, screaming. When she realized, she stopped and gasped for breath, thankful she had cast a silencing charm before falling asleep. It was a nightmare—her mum was not dead, Harry was not dead, but Fred was dead. Her eyes filled with tears. Choking back a sob, she swung herself out of bed, stuck her feet in her slippers, grabbed her dressing gown and hurried out of the dormitory.
The clock in the common room read midnight. Ginny had slept for twelve hours, which was not long enough after all she had been through, but probably the longest she had ever slept without waking up. She wished she had thought to ask for dreamless sleep potion, but Madam Pomfrey had enough to do anyway.
The corridor outside the common room was deserted as Ginny made her way down to the Great Hall. Even the Great Hall was deserted, and Ginny was thankful. She found Fred and sat down next to him, her tears starting again. Ginny took Fred’s hand and held it to her face. She leaned over and put her head on Fred’s chest. She hadn’t had a chance before with her parents and George surrounding him. Ginny cried into Fred’s chest for a few minutes. When she finished crying and moved to sit up, she heard something rustle. She felt around trying to find the source of the noise and realized it was coming from Fred’s pocket. Reaching into Fred’s pocket, Ginny pulled out a stack of envelopes, the one on top labelled “BILL.” Ginny tried to open the envelope but couldn’t. She couldn’t get the glue to release, she couldn’t tear the parchment. After several tries, she saw writing begin to scroll across the top of the envelope.
No, no, no, Ginnikins. This one isn’t yours.
Ginny dropped the envelopes, gaping at the writing. It faded after a moment, amazing Ginny at the brilliance of her brother’s magic. She had no clue how he had done that. Maybe George would teach her. Ginny pawed through the envelopes until she found hers and opened it easily. She took a deep breath and looked at her letter.
Dear Ginny,
If you are reading this, it means I am dead. Shite, that really stinks. Well, actually I don’t know. I’m writing this while still alive, so maybe being dead is great. We’ll go with that theory.
Now on to more serious matters . . . Me? Serious? Yeah. Our family has always been a loving bunch, but we aren’t exactly the mushy types. We know things even if we don’t say things, but now it’s time to say them. Just like me to leave it to the last minute.
I love you, Ginny. You are an amazing person, funny, brilliant, beautiful, and with a lovely mischievous streak you inherited from yours truly. George will say it’s from him, but really it’s me. Everybody knows it. You are so gifted and courageous. We always tried to protect you, not because you needed it, but because we couldn’t bear to see anything happen to you. Whatever you do in life, you will succeed, at least as long as you don’t hex the wrong person. You do have the best Bat Bogey Hex of any of us.
I want to close with giving you one piece of unsolicited advice. Don’t be too hard on Harry. I know you are hurt and angry because he broke up with you to protect you, but the scrawny, specky git is in love with you whether or not he’s told you and whether or not he knows it yet. And you have been in love with him since you were ten years old, so take him back when he asks. Yes, he will ask. Trust me, I know. Don’t play hard to get.
I would rather have you laugh when you think of me than cry, because I want you to be happy. Please be happy, Ginny. Have a long, hilarious life with the specky git and tell all of your children funny stories about their Uncle Fred.
Love,
Fred
Ginny alternately laughed and sobbed and laughed while crying as she re-read the letter. She knew she would need to distribute the other letters to her family. She paged through them. Bill, Charlie, Percy, George, Ron, Mum, Dad, Harry, Hermione, and Jacqueline. Jacqueline? Did Fred have a girlfriend? Well, George would know. Ginny knew she would always treasure Fred’s letter.
She carefully folded her letter and put it in the inside pocket of her dressing gown to keep it safe. She divided the stack of the other letters between the two outside pockets. Ginny wiped the last of the tears from her eyes with her sleeve and looked at Fred’s face. “I love you, too, Fred. Always have and always will. I promise to keep laughing, to keep causing mischief, and to remember the fun times.” She kissed Fred’s forehead. “I promise not to give Harry a hard time, either. At least not too much of one.” Ginny turned and left.
She walked back to Gryffindor Tower, but she did not want to return to her room. She wanted to deliver the letters, but didn’t want to wake up her family. She wanted to talk to Harry, but he was probably asleep, too. Well, she had promised Fred not to give Harry a hard time and to keep being mischievous. Sneaking into Harry’s room in the middle of the night would qualify on both counts, wouldn’t it?
Ginny could see in Harry’s dormitory by the moonlight coming in through the window. Thankfully, even though the bed hangings were closed, the window curtains were not. She carefully opened the hangings, and watched Harry’s chest rise and fall in the moonlight. On an impulse she hung her dressing gown on the hook by the bed, took off her slippers and carefully slid into the bed with Harry, keeping as close to her edge as possible not to disturb him. She watched the rise and fall of his chest. Breathing was such a miraculous thing, and especially after watching Hagrid carrying what she thought was Harry’s dead body, she could revel in the simple pleasure of watching him breathe.
And it didn’t hurt that Harry had a lovely chest. Ginny had seen it before, but it had been nearly a year. She moved her eyes higher to look at the moonlight glinting off his whiskers. She preferred him clean shaven. For some reason she loved the shape of his chin, and his whiskers hid it. She continued looking up and stared into his bright green eyes, which were open and staring back at her.
Ginny felt herself blushing. Harry turned on his side to face her more fully, but didn’t say anything. Ginny didn’t speak either, continuing to watch, curious what Harry would do. He slowly reached up a hand and brushed one finger down her cheek. Ginny shivered pleasantly at the contact and didn’t pull away. She, in turn, ran one finger down Harry’s cheek. He started slightly, but leaned into her touch.
“You’re real?” Harry asked.
“What? Yes, I’m, er, real,” Ginny stammered in surprise.
“I thought I might have been dreaming.”
“You dream about me?” Ginny grinned.
“Well, yeah, but if I’m dreaming you’re in bed with me, you aren’t just lying there.”
Ginny laughed at the horrified look on Harry’s face as he tried to stammer an apology. “It’s OK. I’ve dreamt about you, too.”
Harry seemed to relax at her comment. “Dreaming about you got me through the past year. So did watching your dot.”
“Watching my dot?”
“On the Marauder’s Map. I watched your dot, usually at night, so you were in bed in your dormitory.”
“Oh, Harry.” Even if Ginny had intended to give Harry a hard time, she couldn’t after that comment. She scooted closer to him and kissed him gently, then pulled back, wanting to gauge his reaction. Harry pulled her back to him, kissing her again. Ginny stopped him after just a moment, uncertain.
Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Ginny, I didn’t want to break up with you. I needed to come back to you so I had something to live for. You were the last thing I saw before I let Voldemort kill me, and when I was at King’s Cross with Dumbledore, I chose to come back rather than going on so I could be with you. I love y—“
Ginny kissed him. She knew they needed to talk, but not right now.
***
Ginny awoke with the sun in her eyes. She and Harry had never closed the hangings. Her head was pillowed on his chest, having fallen asleep after a lovely snog. She heard him yawn and sleepily mutter, “Should we get up?”
Ginny’s stomach growled loudly, and she giggled. “I guess we should.”
Harry kissed her forehead and got out of bed, giving her a hand up. He put on his dressing gown and handed Ginny hers. “We should find food, and face whatever happens after that together.”