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Ginny Weasley is looking up at the Burrow. Her childhood home. But not exactly her actual childhood home. Because that one had been burned to the ground on that dark Christmas day in a cold December. A shiver runs up her spine despite her winter coat and Charlie’s scarf around her neck. She wraps her arms around herself, not sure whether she’s trying to warm herself up or try to keep herself from falling apart. Her family had gone to bed and the entire house had gone quiet, but Ginny was awake. Woken up by one of her nightmares once again.
She had run through the reeds around the house, it was quiet - too quiet. She felt her feet getting wet from the pond she was standing in. The water splashing around being the only thing she heard before the breathing behind her started. She turned around and a pair of eyes had burned into hers. Fenrir Greyback. She wanted to scream, she wanted to call for help, wanted to call for Harry. But nothing came out of her throat as Greyback closed in on her. Suddenly she was in the Ministry of Magic and she heard Bellatrix Lestrange’s voice order them to capture and torture the smallest one - her. She turned around, wanting to run away but there was Amycus Carrow, their smile wicked as they pointed their wand at her. Bringing her back to the battle in the Astronomy tower, the night professor Dumbledore was killed, and the many Defence Against The Dark Arts classes. She dodged the Cruciatus Curse aimed at her, but couldn’t dodge the second one fired at her.
She had woken up then. A scream escaping her lips and her heart beating as fast as it does when she overworks herself on her laps of running for her Quidditch training. Another shout for help lay on her lips before she realised that she was in the Burrow. She was safe. She untangled herself from her sheets, scrambling for her sneakers and jacket, and headed outside. Little puffs of air formed every time she released a breath and the grass was half frozen underneath her sneakers.
It had been a little over a year that she had traded living in England for living in Romania. Her sibling Charlie had asked her if she wanted to spend some time with them over there. Charlie knew how difficult her years at Hogwarts had been, they had heard all about it through her letters and their conversations under the dark night sky. Just the two of them either talking for hours or sitting with each other in comfortable silence. She had put her Quidditch career on hold so she could spend some time away to work through whatever kept her up at night. But mostly to try and figure herself out - who she was, who she wanted to be and what she wanted to do in her life.
She can’t count how many times Charlie had burst through the door when hearing her scream for help when waking up from a nightmare. A sudden pang in her chest made her eyes tear up, she missed Charlie. She knew she couldn’t stay with them forever. She knew she had to go back to England at one point. She had felt so safe with her sibling that for a moment she actually considered studying up on dragons and joining them at the Dragon Sanctuary. But he’d convinced her to not give up on her dream of playing professional Quidditch.
The Holyhead Harpies wanted her to be part of their team so badly that they agreed to have her sign the contract for the start of the next year. She had dreamed of playing professional Quidditch ever since she was just a little girl. Playing catch with their quaffle with Charlie, running around with a broom together with the twins, throwing broken bludgers at them to help them train for the position of beaters. She had always dreamed of playing chaser with the Holyhead Harpies, but never had she dared believe that she might actually make it. The shadow of a smile plays on her face at the thought of the contract that was now signed and tucked away in her bag up in one of the bedrooms.
She walks further into the garden, her eyes finding the smouldering fire that her siblings had built earlier that evening. Bill had brought marshmallows to toast above the fire. The air had filled itself with laughter, with chatter and the sparks coming off the high flames. But somehow Ginny couldn’t find it in her to laugh along with them. The fire only caused her to feel on edge. As she stared into the flames, all she could see was the ring of fire that had surrounded her house, her family. She felt the heat on her skin and was brought back to the moment she jumped through the small space between the flames. She saw the light reflecting in her siblings eyes and all she could see was the flames coming from her childhood home as it burned down. But-
Ginny froze. She could hear the rustling of the reeds near her. She hadn’t let go off her wand ever since she had stepped out of bed, her fingers cramping around the handle. She can feel the muscles in her entire body tense and in her mind she’s listing the spells that she has practised just in case she ever needs it, in case she ever gets attacked. She turns on the spot when the sound, footsteps, come closer and closer to her. Someone has popped up behind her and she quickly draws her wand at them.
‘Gin!’ a familiar voice sounds, their hands up in the air as an act of surrender. ‘It’s just me. It’s Harry.’
It took a bit of time for Ginny to come down from the panicked state she had gone into when hearing someone coming up from behind her and for her brain to register what was happening. She looks from the Burrow, to Harry, his hands are up in the air and his eyes are big as he looks from her to the wand in her hand, still pointing at him and lastly to her trembling hand.
She quickly hides her wand back into her pocket, her hand still wrapped around the handle. She can feel the shame rising on her cheeks and for a moment she thanks the dark night sky - making it almost impossible for Harry to see her reddened cheeks. But she doesn’t see any judgement in Harry’s face or any sign that he thinks she might be crazy.
‘I heard you scream,’ Harry’s voice is soft. ‘I got up to see if you were okay. But then I saw you walking outside. I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m really sorry.’
‘It’s okay,’ Ginny says, her voice barely a whisper as she turns away from him, sitting down on a big log that they had placed near the fire, looking out onto the Burrow. ‘I just wanted to go and get some fresh air. You can go to bed again.’
Harry seems to linger as if he’s not sure what to do before speaking again. ‘Would you mind if I stayed and got some fresh air with you?’ Before Ginny can answer him, he quickly adds. ‘We don’t have to talk.’
Earlier that evening she had caught Harry’s eyes from across the flames of the now smouldering fire. She hadn’t seen him outside of the occasional visit from him and Ron to Charlie. She had kept her distance. She really, really liked him. She still does. Because looking into his eyes she could still feel her stomach doing somersaults. She could feel her heart beating faster when he was around. But she knew she wasn’t ready for a relationship. She didn’t want to be in a relationship if she couldn’t give her all to it, to her partner.
But Harry and her, she feels like they have always had a special connection. They knew what the other had gone through - at least to a certain degree.
‘I didn’t want anyone to talk to me, she heard Harry say.
She looked back up at him, her eyebrows furrowed and a frown painting her forehead. ‘Well, that was a bit stupid of you,’ she said, trying her best to keep her hands from shaking, ‘seeing as you don’t know anyone but me who’s been possessed by You-Know-Who, and I can tell you how it feels.’
He had looked at her after that, saying he had forgotten in that moment that she had been possessed by Tom Riddle before. It had felt like a slap in the face to her, she wished she could forget it. She still wishes she could. She had a connection to Voldemort, just like Harry did. That understanding between them was important alongside both having been through having to fight in the war.
But that was also one of the reasons she felt like she had needed some space. Because even though she was reminded of all the good things that they had been through, the games of exploding snap, the Quidditch practices, all the nice holiday celebrations they shared, sharing their first kiss in the midst of the celebrations of winning the Quidditch Cup. It also reminded her of the times she had been controlled by Voldemort or fought alongside her fellow students and family.
But she knew that she should be focusing on the good things they had gone through. She doesn’t think anyone understands what she has gone through as much as Harry. Even now, there didn’t seem to be any judgement in his face when she had pointed her wand at him, ready to attack. Maybe Harry was as affected by the happenings that had happened throughout all of his teenage years as much as her and maybe he also needed someone to just be there for him.
She silently released one of her hands from her pocket, slowly reaching out for Harry’s. The tips of her fingers brushing the back of his hand, an invitation and a question at once. If it was okay. He looked at her hand, turning his palm upwards. She felt her fingers sliding between the spaces between his fingers and the familiarity of it was overwhelming, almost too much for her. He gently squeezed her hand before looking back up in her eyes again. It was just the two of them during this chilly winter night, sitting under the dark blue night sky as the wind brushed a strand of hair into her face.
Ginny couldn’t help but be responsive and alert to every single noise that she heard around her but she felt a little more at ease. Sitting here next to Harry, his hand in hers and a smile on his face that felt familiar and warm. Maybe the Burrow would never really feel like home anymore, but maybe this growing thing between them would. Maybe Harry could.