Work Text:
July 30, 2002
Ginny arrived home in a burst of green flames. The flat was quieter than she expected, meaning Harry must be working late. He was like an explosion of sound when he was home, lighting the place up with his laughter and liveliness. She never had trouble telling when he was home.
She deposited her bag and slid her shoes off next to the hearth, and headed back to their room for a shower. She was thinking about how lovely the hot shower would feel on her practice sore muscles. She was so focused on the steam and her favorite shampoo that she almost didn't notice the solitary figure sitting on their balcony. Almost.
Her hand was on her wand before the messy hair peeking over the top of the chair registered as Harry in her mind. She stopped, dropping her hand and taking in the scene. Next to him sat a nearly full bottle of firewhisky, a glass with a finger of the amber liquid sitting next to it. His finger played slightly with the edge of the glass. From the amount in the bottle and in his glass, Ginny thought that he poured it but hadn't tasted any. Yet.
Ginny made her way to the balcony door, making sure to noisily walk and bump things so that he heard her coming. He still jumped when she touched his shoulder. He took her hand and kissed it, then led her around the chair to sit on his lap. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close into him. He buried his face in her hair, taking a deep breath of the floral scent that always grounded him.
She wrapped her arm around his shoulder, her long fingers finding his hair. For a time, they sat there, quietly enjoying each other's presence.
"Are you okay, love?"
"Mmm. Better now."
Ginny kissed the top of his head. "Do you want to tell me what is wrong?"
"Mmm."
"You don't have to if you don't want to, Harry."
"It's not that I don't want to. It's just… it's hard."
She kissed his head again, still carding her fingers through his hair. "Whenever you are ready, I'm here to listen. Just… talk to me. Please."
For a long time, nothing was said. Harry held her tight in his arms, head resting on her shoulder. She continued to run her fingers through his hair, her nails sometimes scratching his scalp. She was quiet, confident that he would come to her when he was ready. If that was today, next week, or next year, she was certain he would tell her. They relied on each other, comforted each other, and loved each other for long enough to be sure of that.
Soon enough, she heard him clear his throat. When he spoke, his voice was soft. If he hadn't spoken the words so close to her ear, she may have missed it. "I'm going to be older than them."
"Hmm? Who, love?"
"My parents." He spoke louder now, having found his voice. "They were 21 when they died. Tomorrow, I'll be 22."
"Mmm. Yes."
"I never thought I'd live this long. I should have died a dozen times over. I mean, bloody hell, I survived the Killing Curse three times. I shouldn't be here. Instead, I'm going to be older than they ever were. I've outlived them."
"I'm really glad you have."
"Mmm… me too. But it's just…. It's so… unfair."
"Yes, but not because you lived and they didn't."
"No? It feels pretty unfair."
"It's terribly unfair, but not because you lived when they didn't. It's because you had so little time with them, and they so little time with you." She took his head between her hands, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "But no one - not them, not me, not anyone - wishes that you were dead and they were alive."
"You think so?"
"Harry, I know so. You were - you are so loved."
Relief flooded his body, so obvious that Ginny felt him relax against her.
Ginny turned her attention to the undrank firewhisky. "Were you planning to drink that whole bottle?"
"Hmm. Thought about it. Never took a drink."
"Do you still plan to?"
"No, I don't think so."
Ginny picked up his untouched glass and took a sip. "Well, if you'd like, I have a much better idea for something you could do tonight." She set the glass back down.
"Oh? What's that?"
Ginny lowered her head, softly brushing her lips over his. She broke away, then returned with more heat, pressing her lips firmly and deepening the kiss as he responded. When they pulled away, they were both slightly breathless. "Meet me in the bedroom and I'll show you exactly how loved you are."
"Is this a physical demonstration?"
"Mmm. Yes. And I'm very flexible."
"Oh, I know."
Ginny stood up, taking his hand in hers and pulling him to stand. "Might even do a backflip."
"That… could be interesting."
"Show off my handstand."
"I can work with that." Harry followed Ginny in the direction of their bedroom.
"Maybe a few cartwheels."
"I… okay, you've lost me."
"Mmm. That's okay. It's much more fun to show you."
"Well, then. Show away."
The door closed with a click behind them.