wl_mods (wl_mods) wrote in wizard_love, @ 2008-02-25 21:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | *fic, ginny, harry |
Special delivery for xylodemon
Title: England Expects
Author: lyras
Recipient's LJ name: xylodemon
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Word Count: 6,294
Warnings: Ginny is seventeen (so overage in the UK).
Authors notes: When the war's over, all Harry and Ginny have to do is pick up the pieces, but this isn't as simple as it sounds. Thanks to my beta-reader, who will be named after the reveal. All remaining mistakes are mine. And thanks for your lovely prompt, xylodemon; I really hope you enjoy this!
Several months after Voldemort's defeat, Ginny was ready to commit murder. She couldn't settle upon a victim because there were any number of candidates, including her parents, her brothers, various reporters and Harry. But she was fairly certain that if people didn't back off soon, someone was going to die.
The person primarily responsible for her murderous leanings was Harry.
"Can I have a word with you?" he asked in front of her entire family on the first afternoon after the battle at Hogwarts, when everyone was too shell-shocked to do anything except look at one another in silence.
She took his hand with alacrity. Things had been - and still were - horrible, but this was one thing that might not be. Her fingers tingled against his, and she remembered the way her heart had jumped when he'd caught her eye, after it was all over. It was such a relief to have him close to her again. To have him no longer the Ministry of Magic's most wanted fugitive. To have him, and for Voldemort to be dead.
Ginny looked sidelong at Harry and caught him looking back. They exchanged small smiles. Perhaps, she thought as they climbed the stairs, they could simply forget this past year. She would forgive him for dumping her and never getting in touch, and they would both be OK, if he'd only kiss her. Or perhaps she would kiss him, and then let them see what happened.
But once they reached her bedroom it turned out that Harry wanted to talk. And not about himself: he brushed off her questions, saying merely, 'Can I tell you some other time? I want to know about you.'
She swallowed a retort and related several well-chosen stories of life as a Hogwarts rebel, taking care to throw in a few quips (as Fred would have done, she thought painfully), and without mentioning the Carrows. There would be time for the nasty bits later.
Just as she was preparing to demand fair exchange (or to launch herself at him - she was in two minds), he squeezed the hand that he had been stroking, sending little ripples of pleasure into her fingers and up her left arm. "I missed you. Really badly."
She considered a cool retort, and then remembered what he'd been doing for the past year.
"I missed you, too," she admitted. God, talk about understatements! Those four words didn't come close to expressing the terror, the hurt, the sheer longing that she'd experienced since Professor Dumbledore's funeral.
He pulled her hand to his cheek and then down to his lips, which felt impossibly soft against her fingertips. "I really wanted to see you, all the time. And I was so worried about you."
"You were worried," she demanded, shifting closer to him on the bed. "How d'you think I felt when you turned up outside the castle in Hagrid's arms? I thought you were dead!"
"I almost was," he said absently, shoving his hair off his forehead. "God, Ginny, I missed you."
"You already mentioned that." But she could feel herself thawing. Maybe they didn't need some big argument and reconciliation, the one that had been rattling around her head all the time they'd been apart. Maybe they could just be. There was plenty of time to get through all the crap. Maybe they would be all right, after all.
She smiled shakily up at him. "Bit of a horrible year, yeah?" She could feel his hipbone through her jeans, and his leg against hers all the way down to the ankle. On her other side, his hand was poised just below her breast, reminding her of an afternoon during the previous summer when, after she'd given up on revision, he'd finally pushed his hand inside her robes, inside her bra, and it had felt so delicious, especially when his bare skin had brushed over her nipple, and she'd wanted more. They'd missed dinner that evening, too busy kissing and touching and discovering to think of food.
"Harry-" she began, trying to put into words some of what she was feeling. He looked at her seriously, and suddenly they were moving towards each other and she felt rather as if she were floating, because it was all so easy and she'd been dreaming about this for a year.
Their lips touched just as someone knocked on the door and Harry pulled away with a strangled groan. Ginny stared at him, but he was already watching the door.
"Yeah?"
"Really sorry, mate." Ron. Yeah, she bet he was sorry. "There're some reporters to see you. Er, can I come in?"
"It's Ginny's room, not mine," Harry said grumpily.
Ginny straightened up and put some inches between them. She would not have Ron accusing her of throwing herself at Harry again. "Come in," she called as nonchalantly as possible.
The door opened and Ron poked his head into the room. To be fair (which Ginny did not feel like being), he did look contrite.
"Sorry," he said again. "Sorry, mate. Sorry, Gin. There's a load of reporters outside. Mum told 'em to get lost, but they're all camped out in the garden, and Dad reckons they're not going anywhere until they get a statement from you. And he wouldn't mind, but Mum's in such a state about F - I mean...could you maybe see if you could get rid of them?"
"Yeah, sure." Harry scrambled off the bed. "I'm really sorry, Ron. If it wasn't for me they'd probably leave you alone for now."
"Don't be an idiot." Ron thumped him on the shoulder. "Look at what you just did. I think we can forgive a bit of intrusion from the press, you know?"
But Harry didn't seem to hear; he glanced absently at Ginny, who forced herself to smile and say, "See you in a bit, Harry," and then he was gone.
Ron hovered in the doorway for a moment, then plonked down onto the bed beside her, landing in the slight hollow left by Harry's bum. They remained silent for a moment, staring side by side at one of the Weird Sisters posters that lined the wall.
"He's had a hard time," Ron said eventually.
"I know," said Ginny irritably.
He looked at her then. "I know we all have - you too. But he was really worried about you. He used..." He hesitated. "He's got this gadget that lets you see where people are at Hogwarts. He kept getting it out at night, and I'm sure he was watching you."
"That sounds...really rather creepy," remarked Ginny, although she was secretly touched at the idea that Harry had cared enough to look for her.
Ron blushed. "I didn't mean like that. Although obviously, if he did...I mean, he likes you, right?"
Ginny was silent, because everything that she wanted to say sounded petty, and there were good answers to all her complaints. 'Why didn't he write to me?' 'Because he was on the run and didn't want to put you or his cover at risk.' 'How could he just go off to die like that?' 'Because it was the only thing to do.' 'How fucking dared he?' 'Because he's Harry.'
Ron nudged her out of her reverie. "Look, I know I've not been your biggest supporter in the past when it comes to Harry, but I promise, I'm right behind you now." He shifted. "I mean, I'm - sort of sorry about barging in on you last summer, you know? On Harry's birthday? But it was you I was thinking of. I didn't want you to get hurt again."
Ginny was silent, wondering how to put her emotions into words. "I could have bloody killed you," she said finally.
Ron nodded humbly. "Harry nearly did," he said, "and honestly, Gin, I'm sorry, but I was worried about you."
They were sitting very close. Amused by his contrite expression, she leaned across until her shoulder butted his. "Yeah? Well, in future, please lay off. I'm not a kid."
He dropped his head onto hers. "I know."
Despite her youth and limited attractions, Miss Weasley is a well-known serial dater, having run through several of Harry's associates before finally ensnaring him last summer. And it seems that she did not waste much time once the political situation forced Harry to go on the run. A Hogwarts contemporary who declined to be named told me, "Everyone knows she and Neville Longbottom were a couple at school last year." Meanwhile, Harry Potter was facing danger and death in the real world.