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Daisies | ||||
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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-HBP Characters:Harry/Ginny, Harry/Ginny Genres: Fluff, General Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: G Reviews: 14 Summary: Daisies were her favorite flower, and on one special day, he finds out exactly why. Hitcount: Story Total: 5589 Author's Notes: Alright, well, I had this little plot bunny that was begging to be put into words and I couldn't refuse. Can you tell I'm looking forward to summer? |
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He found her in the meadow across the street from her house. The meadow was open and spacious, blooming with flowers that kind people had planted last summer, the grass long and soft against bare feet. Ginny sat in the middle, legs tucked under her, picking the pristine white petals off of a daisy. Harry thought the picture couldn’t be more perfect. As he took a seat next to her, she didn’t look up, and he knew that she knew it was him all too well. She continued picking the petals off, until she reached the end, and then she looked at him. Her brown eyes shone as she squinted in the sunlight and Harry found that his breath was taken away. “Did you know that you love me?” She asked him good-naturedly, smiling. He grinned. She often just expressed her thoughts, no small talk needed. He thought it was a very Ginny-ish thing to do. “Do I?” He asked the grin still in place. They often played these games, teasing each other lightly but always managing to keep it light and….them. Ginny nodded. “Yes, the daisy insists,” She said, releasing her gorgeous red mane from its holder and laying her head in Harry’s lap. He put a hand on her hair. It was hot from the sun. “Does it? How does a daisy insist, really?” He asked trying to suppress a laugh. “Don’t you know the superstition?” She asked him. When he said that no, he did not, she sighed in exasperation. “Then I’ll tell you. It’s said that if you pick the petals off a flower repeating ‘He loves me, he loves me not’, then whatever one you land on when the last petal is off, it will come true.” She said matter-of-factly, looking at this moment like a young girl without a care in the world. Harry chuckled. “And you got he loves you, am I right?” Harry asked, but he didn’t need to know, he already knew. Ginny smiled. “Yes, so you love me and you’re stuck with me.” She said, sticking her tongue out at him. He loved these moments when she was completely carefree and herself. He loved her. “Yeah well, then you’re stuck with me too!” He exclaimed, tickling her on her stomach. She laughed, flailing her arms and legs. “Alright! Ha-I…ha ha-get it! Harry-ha ha-stop!” She laughed, trying desperately to kick him so that he would stop. He ceased tickling her, and resumed stroking her hair instead. Ginny’s breathing returned to normal, and she closed her eyes. “Did you know that Fleur wanted daisies for her bouquet?” Ginny asked him, snuggling her head deeper into Harry’s lap. He tickled her nose with a blade of grass. “No, I didn’t. Why didn’t she have them, then?” Distinctly remembering how Fleur had held a lovely bouquet of roses on her wedding day. “Because Mum talked her out of it. Said daisies weren’t really a good wedding flower.” Ginny told him, blowing air out her mouth at the blade of grass. Harry stopped tickling her nose, and smirked to himself. He knew Ginny mustn’t agree with that. Daisies were her favorite flower. “And what do you think of that?” He asked her, sounding suspiciously like a shrink even to his own ears. Ginny laughed lightly. “Of course I disagree! You know how I love daisies. For our wedding, I’m having a bouquet of daisies.” She told him with a smile in her voice. Harry smiled. He had asked her to marry him only the day before and already she was thinking of bouquets. That was his Ginny, always planning ahead, always looking forward to the future. “And no other flower would do for you, Ginny.” Harry told her honestly, running his fingers through her auburn locks. They were long again, and he couldn’t help but think that she must be unbearably hot, all those layers in addition to the intensity of the summer sun. Ginny’s face was red from the sun, but Harry’s frame provided temporary shade for her face. She giggled at his remark. “You’re right, if I were to carry any other flower, then I wouldn’t be me.” She told him, sounding so very sure of herself. “Why do you love daisies so much anyway?” Harry asked, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger, loving the way it felt like silk. Ginny shrugged. “Ever since I was really little, I would always come out and play in this meadow with my brothers. They’d all pick daisies for me, then they’d make me a little crown out of them, and they would pretend I was the princess,” Ginny paused to laugh, “and they’d do anything I wanted them to do.” Harry could picture the scene, and he laughed along with her. She continued her story. “I guess I just liked feeling pretty,” she finished, looking up at him. “Does that sound silly?” she asked a bit self-consciously. Harry shook his head. “Not at all. Besides, I’ll always think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.” He told her honestly, picking a nearby daisy and tucking it behind her ear. She looked much younger with it, like she was a small child. She smiled at him, lacing her fingers with his, and leaning up to kiss him briefly. He smiled. “I just wanted to thank you, Harry.” Ginny said to him, rubbing her palm against his. “What for?” He asked, looking faintly puzzled. At this, she grinned. “For always making me feel like a princess.” She told him sweetly, kissing him again and murmuring, ‘I love you,’ against his lips. Harry grinned. “You’re very welcome,” He said, mouthing the words back as he kissed her deeper and more passionately. Ginny had been right, he was stuck with her, and yes, he did love her. And yet, he didn’t mind being stuck with someone as wonderful as Ginny was, and the amazing thing was that she was stuck with him too. And she didn’t seem to mind. |
| Reviews 14 |
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