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Noticing Ginny | ||||
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Category: Post-Hogwarts Characters:None Genres: Drama, Fluff, General, Romance Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: G Reviews: 31 Summary: Regardless of what others think, he's always noticed her. Hitcount: Story Total: 7981 Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work. |
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She claims I never noticed her until my sixth year. She’s wrong, and I have to make it clear that I always noticed her…sometimes more than others. The first time I met her, I couldn’t help but notice the scrawny little girl standing next to her mother. She couldn’t take her eyes off me and was practically jumping up and down in excitement. It was funny, but I was polite enough not to laugh. And then when she raced after the train, shouting after her brothers and me, I felt embarrassed for Ron, for me and everyone else on the train. But it was sweet, really. If I knew then how much she would change my life, I think I would have claimed her sooner. My first time at The Burrow was also embarrassing. She clammed up and shied away from me, never saying anything with more than one syllable at a time. She was clumsy and awkward, and I tried not to laugh, but Fred and George just made it too easy. The rest of the summer, she was either avoiding me or tagging along and annoying Ron. It never annoyed me, but at the time, I never admitted that to Ron. It was kind of cool to have a girl follow me around, especially one that didn’t get put off my oafish cousin. She watched us play Quidditch and I never understood why they never let her play with us. I thought it was kind of mean, and the one time I suggested we let her join in, she gasped and ran back to the house. She is the cause of my worst memory, and I think most people know what I’m talking about: finding her nearly dead in the Chamber of Secrets. That memory will never leave me and I pray to whatever god there is that I will not have go through that ever again. I felt guilt at not getting there earlier. I felt anger at what he was doing to her. I felt ashamed knowing that I was the reason she was lying there in the first place. I felt a thrill when I killed the Basilisk and then when I destroyed the diary. It was a scary kind of thrill, knowing that I had killed a living being. But that was soon replaced by overwhelming joy at seeing her take her first few breaths again, and she looked at me with those deep dark eyes. I noticed how she was shocked to see me fade before her from the poison of the Basilisk and her resolve to stay with me. I should have seen that as a sign of her stubbornness for future reference. I noticed, above all, her bliss when Fawkes came to heal me and that she knew I was going to be okay. I think part of me had fallen in love with her at the tender age of twelve and I was just too stupid to take notice of it. But then, I was twelve. My third year, I was too involved with myself and the fact that I thought I was being hunted by Sirius. I saw Ginny here and there and we smiled at each other, but nothing more. One thing that stands out about my third year is that she actually started talking to me, even if it was only about Quidditch and my Firebolt, which was being practically taken apart. She was still quiet and nervous around me, but I started seeing her as a person, rather than Ron’s sister. I liked that. People may think me a right stupid prat when I say this, but I really thought about taking Ginny to the Yule Ball before Ron told me to. She was growing on me, that girl with hair the colour of fall leaves. We’d spent some good times together at the Quidditch World Cup and she always gave me an encouraging smile when I needed it the most. I was scared to ask her BECAUSE she was Ron’s sister. I tried to figure out what was more important and I took the side of Ron. The Yule Ball was absolutely the worst time of my life, and the fact that I HAD to be there, only put salt into the wound. The girl I was madly in love with was dancing with Cedric Diggory. My date expected things I had no intention of doing. My two best friends were fighting, again, and it looked like nothing would help them straighten things out. Finally, Ginny was there with Neville. I like Neville. He’s nice and a very decent bloke. But deep down, I felt jealous because goofy, clumsy Neville Longbottom could get a date and I, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, Hogwarts’ second champion, was on a pity date. It was pathetic, and Ginny never let me forget it. We laugh about it now, especially when there’s a function I’m expected to attend. She always reminds me to ask my favourite girl out right away, lest I am miserable and left sitting in a pity pool again. Now, many of my friends would think that in my fifth year, I had absolutely no time or inclination to notice any girl but Cho Chang. She was my first crush, the first girl I kissed, and the first girl who broke my heart. But I do have to say that in regards to important things like friendship and loyalty, Ginny Weasley made me stand up and take notice. It wasn’t easy, I have to admit, since she dated Michael Corner for most of the school year. But she really impressed me that year on two very specific instances: Dumbledore’s Army sessions and our battle in the Department of Mysteries. In the DA, she came up with the name and brought in people from the other houses to round out the group. She knew a lot of people, I have to admit, it really helped that she was so outgoing. It was something I found exciting and very attractive. Her skills improved rapidly over the course of the meetings and I didn’t fully appreciate it until we went to the Ministry. She was brave, loyal, fierce and downright feisty. It was then that I truly began to see her as a girl and something more than Ron’s little sister. If I had taken my head out of my arse sooner, the two of us would have had more than a few weeks together in my sixth year. Ginny always knew when to call me out on my prat-like behaviour. She had this sixth-sense about me that I found scary, and sometimes very stimulating. Christmas of my fifth year, she really surprised me when she yelled at me for the first time. I mean, red-around-the-ears yelling. She interrupted my self-loathing over her father’s attack and reminded me that she had first hand experience with Voldemort as well. When she said that, I felt like someone had snapped a rubber band on my wrist and the biting pain was sharp enough to drag me back to reality. When we returned to Hogwarts after that battle, she was in the Hospital Wing with us. Yes, she was hurt and all, but I kept seeing her looking at me, giving me little glances and smiles. I felt weird, but in a good way. There was one time that our eyes locked for the briefest of moments and she turned away smiling. It was at that very moment that I realised that Ginny wasn’t just Ron’s little sister. She was growing up. After I turned sixteen, well, I never stopped noticing Ginny. She was always there. At The Burrow. Playing Quidditch with Ron. Riding the train to school. But then she went and sat with Dean and that’s when I think the jealousy started. She was supposed to be mine. I knew her longer. I was the one who saved her. I was already like a member of the family. How could she not notice me noticing her? It was then that I had an inkling of what it must have felt like for her those first few years at Hogwarts for her. I had known she had a crush on me but I did nothing and practically treated her as if she never existed. I was doomed to never know true love, I kept telling myself, every time I saw her with Dean Thomas. Finding her with Dean behind the tapestry was perhaps the worst experience of my life up until that point. Something felt like it was going to jump out of my chest and strangle Dean for what he was doing to Ginny. My Ginny. The one I dreamt about secretly. The only girl that ever caused me embarrassment in my own dorm room. Of course I never told Ron who I dreamt about that morning. He’d kill me. I made a joke about it and thankfully a rowdy discussion between the rest of the sixth-years followed and I was spared. That is, until Dean let it slip about his most recent dream about Ginny. The blankets flying about the room caused by my accidental magic were blamed on Ron and I really think that to this day, he believes it was him. I never bothered to tell him otherwise. Then, the day of days came when I drank that Felix Felicis and got Slughorn’s memory and accidentally on purpose broke up Ron and Lavender and Dean and Ginny with one fell swoop. I felt like shouting from the mountaintops how happy I was when Hermione told me Ginny was free. From that moment on, I made a point of talking to Ginny, sitting with Ginny, waiting for Ginny in the halls and on the Quidditch Pitch. I never wanted her to feel that I didn’t notice her. I noticed everything about her. I noticed the way her eyes got lighter when she laughed. I noticed the way her hair smelled after she washed it. I noticed the cluster of freckles on her nose. I noticed the light brown highlights in her hair as she sat in front of the fire. I noticed my heart slowly slipping away. I made history at Hogwarts for the second time during my sixth year. In my first, I became the youngest Seeker in over a century. This time, I snogged a girl in front of the largest crowd on record. That was the best day of my life. Well, at least for another few years. Kissing Ginny was by far the best way to spend my time. Unbeknownst to Ron, we kissed a lot. Every day. Anywhere. In the common room. Outside by a tree or by the lake. Those were sunlit days amidst clouds of doom. She was only the second girl I had ever kissed and I learned so much from kissing her. I learned how to move my lips across hers without being sloppy. I learned that a tongue across the lower lip causes the other to open the mouth. I learned that I was alive. Really alive. In those few short weeks I also learned that losing someone hurts. I learned that loving someone sometimes means letting them go. I learned that being a man also means that you are allowed to cry, even if it is away from your friends while sitting in the loo on a train. The war was hard. No one who has ever been in a war will say they are easy. I watched my two best friends fall in love and freely give and receive that love, even while they risked their lives every day. It was too much. I withdrew from them. I felt my heart grow cold as I did things that many grown men would never do and saw things few people would ever want to see. My heart was freezing without her. I was losing my battle. Ron and Hermione tried to pull me back, but without any love left in my heart, it was pointless. Things changed when we were close enough to The Burrow to stop by for a visit. It was right at the beginning of the New Year and Ron was hurt. He nearly lost his leg because I was careless and stupid. He wanted his mum. The big git cried for his mum like a baby. And paired with the guilt I suffered from, how could I say no? While we were there, I noticed her again. I noticed how quiet she was and how pale. I noticed that she looked as miserable as I felt. She looked as if she’d had the mickey taken out of her permanently and I knew it was my fault. I knew I had to make it right. We fought. We screamed and she slapped me. Finally, I realised that once Ginevra Molly Weasley makes up her mind, I pity the fool who tries to get in her way. And on that particular day, the fool was me. While we were there, my heart began to thaw and she fought her way back in. Or perhaps I stopped fighting it. Nevertheless, when we left, Ginny went with us. I didn’t argue. I just wanted to feel again. I didn’t know it at the time, but I fell in love the day we won. She was right there with me, Ron and Hermione. The four of us together were much stronger than the four of us apart and it was then that the true meaning of love finally hit me. The three of them represented the best kind of love I could ever have; the love of a brother in Ron; the unconditional love of a best friend in Hermione; and the breath-taking, heart-wrenching, all-encompassing love of my soul mate, Ginny. He didn’t stand a chance. The force of love will always, always take down evil and hate. It may take time, and souls may be lost along the way, but I do believe that in the end, what we get is much better than what we started with. I always knew that Ginny was beautiful. But I didn’t really notice it until I saw her for the first time on our wedding day. She was a vision. Ron looked over at me with a stupid smile on his face, and I fought like hell to keep from crying. I never knew she could look any lovelier. My eyes found my grandmother’s brooch on her dress, and I nearly lost it. As we stood there saying our vows, my eyes never left hers. She silently dared me not to cry and I failed miserably. I’ve never cried all that much before then, and I couldn’t help it. I don’t know whether it was the fact that I was finally getting the life I was meant to have or if I was just being wimpy. Frankly, I don’t care. Once I started to cry, she lost it. And for her, that’s a big deal. When she danced with her father after the ceremony, she seemed like such a little girl. Arthur was beaming at her as he held his baby tight in his arms. I never noticed how much her father loved her until that moment, and my throat got all tight again. I thought ahead to when we would have our own kids and the idea of dancing with my own daughter at her wedding gave me only an inkling of what Arthur was going through. It was then that I noticed Ginny had given me everything: her heart, her body, her soul and her family. I would never let her regret that decision. Finally, no one can ever say they haven’t noticed her strength. Ginny has always been a strong witch. Anyone who knows her can tell you that. She amazes me everyday whether it is the strength she demonstrated in her determination to be a Healer, the strength of her devotion to her family, or the strength in the way she loves me. But again, it didn’t really hit me until I watched her bring our children into the world. I have never been one to go on about babies, but what that woman did was amazing. She did things her way and the rest of the world be damned. It was mad, really, to have children at home and without medication, Mediwizard or Healer. If it was me, a swift hit in the head with a Bludger would have been preferable. But she did it. Five times. James and Philip. Adrienne. Cassandra and Olivia. She was amazing. Still is. Noticing Ginny was never the problem. And it never will be. |
| Reviews 31 |
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