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As if you were a mythical thing,
Like you were a trophy or a champion ring
And there was one prize I'd cheat to win
~`~
Ginny stared at him from across the room, he hadn’t spotted her yet, deep in conversation with Ron and Hermione. She felt like a child again, begging for the same story over and over again, not knowing the pain it could cause, was causing.
At five, six, seven, he wasn’t a boy, he was a myth, a fairytale story of a boy. He was someone that she dreamed about in the quiet of the night, always a beacon of hope and love.
At eleven, twelve, thirteen, he was just a boy, still unreachable, but a real person that hope and desire grew for. He was someone that she daydreamed about during classes when her attention strayed away.
At fifteen, then seventeen, and eighteen and beyond, he was her trophy, he proof that wishful thinking, hope in love and her heart, would work. He loved her as she loved him, full and wanting and forever.
Forever and beyond.
Ginny watched as Harry moved his hand, wrapping his arm around Hermione’s waist while his other hand squeezed Ron’s shoulder. To anyone else, it would look like he was the one keeping them up, keeping them close.
To Ginny, she saw Ron and Hermione keeping Harry close, protected.
At sixteen, he had been stupid and foolish and too bloody noble to know that she wouldn’t keep chasing after his shadow. There was something about them, something about the quiet way they orbited each other, both of them feeling like other worldly creatures to the other. At eighteen, it had been no different, he lived in the same house as her and her family, both of them avoiding each other while wanting nothing than to be close to each other.
At nineteen, he loved her, held her tight in his arms and didn’t attempt to let her go. At nineteen, he asked for forever and love and a world that was their own, and she gave it.
Ginny twisted her wedding band around the fourth finger of her left hand, remembering the very moment he placed it on her hand. They had been surrounded by friends and family, missing more people than they could count, and somehow, in that very moment, forgetting everyone. She could still feel his lips soft on hers, his hands holding her face in a vice grip, never wanting to let her go again.
She never wanted to let him go again.
At sixteen, she fought in his war, fought for him in every moment of the time they were apart. She fought for him as her world crumbled and scarred her and took away everything that mattered, only for her to rebuild it in the years after.
At seventeen, she could feel his hands on her hips, his lips on her neck, his body pressed to hers. She could feel love pressed into her from him, aching and slow, wanting more and more. Both of them too young and yet…and yet older than the years allowed. She was a kid when it all started, wishing and dreaming for him.
Ginny watched as Ron’s hand moved to pat Hermione’s stomach, and she swatted at him, her own stomach twisting sharp inside of her.
Their boys were home, sleeping peacefully, making up their own stories of myths and prizes. They were making up adventures in their minds, stories that she would hear about in the morning, stories that would make her head spin over toast and scrambled eggs.
Ginny put a hand to her stomach, holding it carefully, Ron didn’t go on missions anymore, at least not ones that would take him away from his children for more than a few days.
At twenty-three and twenty-four, they get married. She is a vision in white and he cries as he takes her hand, she cries as he starts his vows. The pair of them were just that back then, a pair of young lovers with next to no real responsibilities, just a little boy with sometimes blue hair and a missing pair of front teeth.
At twenty-three and twenty-four, they become parents to their first little boy. James Sirius, the name that she choose, the names that she loved for the people he loved and lost…and who she loved and lost too.
At barely twenty-five and twenty-six, they become parents again to another little boy. Albus Severus, not a name that she would ever choose, a name that he somehow won out on with a carefully played game of rock-paper-scissors.
Ginny was twenty-seven now, and her husband, her Harry, was twenty-eight. They were dumb and stupid, noble and brave, they were kids still, with their three boys at home. And yet…and yet she was here, at the Ministry of Magic, to watch her husband be celebrated for leaving their family for six months. Six long months without him around, to help with the boys, to save her from her family.
Six longs months for their daughter to grow bigger and bigger inside of her.
“Ginny!”
She took her eyes away from Harry, trying and failing to find the voice that called her. She didn’t really want to come in the first place, the truth was, she was angry at Harry. It was one thing to be gone on a mission, he had done it before, but never this long. He had never left her or the boys for so long, never been away longer than a few weeks, but all before James had been born.
Ginny looked around the room again, her dark brown eyes finding Harry’s bright green. He started walking towards her, pulling himself away from Ron and Hermione, but being intercepted on the way. He hated being showed off to the world, like he was a champion, when in truth he just tried to do what was right.
At fifteen, Harry had kissed her in a room full of people, full of their peers. He held her tight, his hands warm on her body, his glasses pressing into her nose before they parted just long enough to escape the noise around them. At sixteen, they spent more time apart than it felt like it was allowed. Both of them on separate ends of the same side, both of them leading the effort to end the madness.
At seventeen, she went back to school and he trained with the Aurors, putting them in a sticky situation.
Ginny went to the lifts before the…the party, the celebration, the whatever was done and over with. She knew that he would follow, as their roles had been reversed for a long time now. She was no longer the little girl chasing after him, instead now he was the one that chased after her, wanted her like nothing else in the world.
She sat patiently on their bed, their children were asleep, back in her childhood home, the very place that they had fallen in love.
“Ginny!”
~`~
Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark
Show me the places where the others gave you scars
Now this is an open-shut case
Guess I should've known from the look on your face
Every bait and switch was a work of art
~`~
Harry felt the only letter Ginny had sent him burn in his pocket as he tried to make himself listen to Ron and Hermione joke and jest. Hermione had promised that Ginny would come, she had too, it had been so long.
But he couldn’t find her in the crowd, he didn’t see her mane of fiery red hair anywhere. What he would give to see her eyes, brown and golden, kind and forgiving, hopefully and mercifully forgiving for him. He felt like his life depended on this more than anything else right now, seeing his wife, holding her in his arms, being close to her for the first time in six months.
Six long and cold months spent searching and dueling and…and running away from another pregnancy.
Dear Harry,
I know you’re off being noble or as I like to think of it, stupid. We miss you here, the boys and I are a little lost without your perfect toast and runny eggs in the morning. They’ve started to whine about scrambled eggs and dry cereal, or at least the older two have. A house full of boys does remind me of the Burrow when I was a kid. Mum and dad always being around doesn’t help much with that either, though the boys are all happy that their constantly coming around to help and play with them.
Teddy is taking to his guitar lessons well, he’s even stopped getting into fights with the other boys in his primary class. He doesn’t know this, but when I can’t sleep, I’ll listen to him practice at night. He doesn’t know that I can hear every note through the wall, but it’s my own personal secret I’ll take to the grave. I’m so proud of him Harry, he’s getting so good and he’s so passionate about his music, when you get home, he has a big concert that we’ve been invited to go to. I’m so excited for you to hear him play, and he’s even started singing too, he sounds like Tonks.
James is so popular in his daycare class, everyone flocks to him the moment I drop him off. Then during family dinners he has Freddie and Roxanne at his sides at all times, the three of them up to no good whenever someone takes their eyes off of them. They dug up mum’s flower beds the other night, she wasn’t even angry because they looked so cute covered in mud. She took a photo and left George and me to clean them up, James and Roxanne had us soaked within two minutes. By the time we had them cleaned up and dressed again, we missed dinner. George took me back to his, and Angelina made us dinner, laughing the whole time.
Albie looks more and more like you every day, Harry. He’s getting so big and his hair is going wild, mum wants to give him a haircut, but I can’t stand the thought of him losing his curls so soon. He just wouldn’t look the same and I can’t stand the thought of walking into his room and not seeing that mess of hair and green eyes look up at me. His eyes are getting worse, dad has been taking him to the Healers, and his glasses are so cute, Harry. I wish that he didn’t have to wear them, but he doesn’t walk into doorframes or chairs anymore, he does look too much like you now. He’s getting more stubborn too, he and James keep getting into fights over their toys because Al refuses to share, though you know that James just takes whatever he wants, so it is a bit on both of them.
I don’t like you being away this long, it’s why I’ve been avoiding writing this letter. I love you, and you didn’t get to leave on the best of terms, I’ve been angry at you and keeping the boys from you. I’ve been so angry that you left, to begin with, but also with myself and the way that I let you leave. If I could go back to that morning, I would’ve made myself follow you downstairs and given you a proper send off. Harry you deserved so much better from me, but I was so hurt and I knew that you being gone wasn’t going to be easy.
I really wrote to you because I need to tell you something rather important, but I’ve been struggling to put this into words. I wanted to tell you four months ago, right after you left when I first found out. Harry, my love, we’re having another baby, a little girl this time. I want to name her after your mum, and also Luna, she’s been such a help these last few months even with her own boys to look after. She’s due at the end of May, and I know you have no say over this mission, but I need you home sooner than later. I don’t know how I could give birth without you H
We love you, Teddy, James, Albie, Baby Lily-Luna, and me. We hope you come home soon, Darling.
Ginny
The only letter she had sent him burned in his chest pocket, where he had kept it the last two months. They were finally having a daughter, a little girl, what he had hoped for since she told him that she was pregnant with James on their wedding night. Ginny had always wanted boys, but Harry wanted a daughter that looked like his wife, his beautiful and wonderful wife that he had abandoned.
“Harry?”
He swept his eyes through the crowd again, and found a pair of dark brown eyes, hiding almost in the shadows. He ignored Hermione, taking a half step forward before Ron held him back. His wife, his Ginny, she was standing back from the crowd, hidden in the shadow of a pillar, reminding him more of when she was eleven and would run out of any room he was also in.
She disappeared, retreating as Ron and Hermione lead him to the small stage set up for him. He couldn’t focus on the speech given about his accomplishments, the only thing that mattered was getting back home to Ginny.
He chased after her, knowing that she was minutes in front of him. He nearly fell out of the floo as he scrambled after Ginny, even being in the same house, in the close space of their home, with just a flight of stairs between them, he had never been happier.
He carefully walked upstairs, looking at the photos on the wall of the staircase. Him and Ginny on their wedding day; ultrasounds of their children, including one that was new of their daughter; their children as they’ve grown up, with and without him; but it was the new ultrasound that made him stop, made him sit down on the stairs and grab it off of the wall.
He touched the soft curve of their daughter’s spine, roundness of her little stomach, the little pucker of her lips, and her tiny hands and little feet slowly moving. He had missed rubbing Ginny’s back as she got morning sickness, missed watching her grow out of her clothes, missed feeling their baby’s first kick. He had missed everything for his little Lily-Lulu.
“Harry?”
Harry wiped at his eyes and nose, turning to look up at Ginny at the top of the stairs. She looked so beautiful, her long red hair still pulled back into a bun on top of her hair, her dark brown eyes glistening in the light coming from their bedroom at the far end of the hall. She had changed out of the dress she had been wearing, and instead was wearing one of his shirts strained tight across her stomach and a pair of sleep shorts.
“Hey,” said Harry, turning away from her to look down at his daughter’s ultrasound, feeling his heart break again. “I was-“
He heard the creak of the stairs as she stepped down until she was sitting beside him. Her head warm on his shoulder as she took his hand and placed it on her stomach, he felt the baby kick against his hand and the tears started up again.
“You got to talk the last time we were together,” said Ginny, as she held his hand to her. “It’s my turn now…I’m very angry with you. You left me with the boys, all by myself, and then I found out that I was pregnant again.”
She paused, her voice soft but not wavering, and Harry knew that her saying angry was the least of her true feelings. Ginny never got just angry, she got beyond angry, frustrated, pissed off, furious, she was never just one thing and it was why he loved her.
“I thought that I was just sick, but Hermione made me take a test, and then Ernie confirmed it at St. Mungo’s, and…and I just wanted you home Harry.”
Harry turned his head and kissed her forehead, setting the frame photo down and lifting her chin so he could kiss her properly. He had wanted to kiss her since the night they fought over his mission, she had refused to talk to him in the day between he told her and him leaving.
He held her close, kissing her as he had on their wedding day, before she had told him for the first time that she was pregnant. He could only imagine how she felt then, they were so young, they already had Teddy, but a baby of their own was much different than their godson. With Albus, they at least had a little experience in the game, but it was different to be completely alone, even if it was the third time.
“I know,” said Ginny, before Harry could say anything, and he had never loved her more. “You’re sorry, I know you are, you were sorry before you left.”
He was.
“You’re not leaving like that again,” said Ginny, and Harry nodded, keeping his hand on her chin, not taking his eyes off of hers. “I’ll fight whats-his-name for you next time to keep you home.”
“I’ll bet my last galleon on you,” whispered Harry, before kissing her again, he felt the baby kick against his hand and he smiled. “Come on, let’s go to bed. I’ve missed you so much.”
~`~
I'm begging for you to take my hand
Wreck my plans
That's my man
~`~
Ginny smiled as she watched Harry in the light coming in from window. Her boys were asleep on top of her, James and Teddy on her legs, curled up together, and Albus on her chest, his little body warm on her heart. She watched as Harry moved gracefully around the room, his feet gliding along the floor.
He had done the same thing with both James and Al, and even Teddy when he was little, it was like he didn’t know what to do with all of his nervous energy. Harry had never been one for dancing, but watching him move around with their children in his arms, it was heartwarming.
He had been so good to her since coming home, taking as much time off as he could before his paternity leave kicked in.
“Lily-Lulu, my little Willow girl…” mumbled Harry as he moved closer to her bed, not even noticing that she was awake. Harry sang even less than he danced, but it was adorable all the same, and Lily seemed to be taking it in even better than any of the boys did.
Willow, hope, belonging, safety, everything that their daughter gave to Harry, everything Harry gave to Ginny.
Willow was the perfect nickname for their baby girl.