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Finding Ginny | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-Hogwarts Characters:All Genres: Angst, Drama, Romance Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Rape Rating: R Reviews: 149 Summary: Ginny Weasley disappeared three and a half years ago. Her family have never given up hope of finding her. But when Harry Potter does find her, she refuses to return home with him. Why did she just disappear, and why does Harry feel a burning desire to bring her back to her family when she obviously wants to be left alone? Hitcount: Story Total: 63685; Chapter Total: 4339 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: Ginny continues to fight against Harry's intrusion into her life |
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Ginny was on tenterhooks while she waited for Bonnie to wake up. Her daughter had fallen for Harry in a big way and she would be truly devastated if he did not turn up to have dinner with them after promising that he would. Ginny really did not want to have to make up excuses for Harry’s absence, nor did she want to have to deal with the floods of tears that were sure to ensue. Bonnie had taken quite a while to get over the illness that had begun the day that Harry had invaded their lives–a very bad cold that had settled on her chest–and the little girl still tended to burst into tears at the slightest provocation. Ginny had to admit that she would have been at her wits end if it had not been for Harry. He alone had been able to keep Bonnie happy for extended periods of time. The illness had lasted longer than it should have done because Ginny knew from experience that her daughter could not tolerate Muggle drugs, not even mild analgesics, and certainly not antibiotics. Ginny had had no clue about the Muggle world before she had decided that it was where she would have to live if she wanted her disappearance to be permanent. She had not been old enough to have ever used her magic anywhere outside of school so she had adapted fairly well to doing everything without its benefits. But she had quickly realised that adapting to the Muggle way of life was not going to be all that easy, especially when it came to questions of health. Her own bad reaction to Muggle drugs had first come to light during Bonnie’s birth. Her experience in the labour ward had made her determined that she would keep her new daughter away from Muggle drugs. Luckily, Bonnie rarely got sick, but Ginny knew the situation would lead to problems when it was time for Bonnie to start school. She knew that she needed official documentation to prove that her child had received the prescribed childhood vaccinations. She was not quite sure how she was going to deal with that particular hurdle; she had not asked Faith to contact the one person in the wizarding world (before Harry came back into her orbit) who would be able to help her for a very long time, and she was loath to do so again. Ginny sighed. She pushed herself to her feet and just for something to do to try and take her mind off one of her many problems, she got the big saucepan out of the cupboard and filled it with water. She then gave the aromatic sauce simmering sluggishly over a low flame a stir, before getting the crockery out of the cupboard. However, these simple activities plus those required to make a cup of tea–she had not drunk the one Harry had made her an hour and a half earlier–were not enough to prevent her mind from returning to Harry and his relationship with her daughter. She returned to her musings while she stood leaning against the kitchen bench sipping her drink. Regardless of Bonnie’s then very rare imperfect state of health, Ginny had still had to go and work at her part-time job in the coffee-shop where Harry had first found her. Bonnie had become very distressed the first time Ginny–feeling like an absolutely terrible mother–had tried to leave her when she was still so unwell, with Faith, her usual babysitter. Harry, who had made one of his unexpected and unwelcome visits half an hour before Ginny had to leave for work, had volunteered to babysit. Bonnie had stopped protesting about her mother’s imminent departure immediately. Ginny had been most reluctant to leave Bonnie in the care of a man whom she might have known years ago, but who was now essentially a stranger. She had been at her wit’s end when Harry had volunteered to babysit, but because she was dependent upon the extra money her part-time job brought in to supplement her single mother’s pension, she had eventually caved in to the combined pressure of her tearful daughter and a smug and conniving wizard! As hard as it was to admit though, Ginny had not had to work too hard to put her misgivings aside; she had known Harry Potter for six years and she knew that he was one of the most honourable people she would ever likely meet–he had even saved her life once. Also, though Faith’s contact with the wizarding world was sporadic at best, her squib landlady had been contacted by her magical family two and a half years previously and she had told Ginny that Harry Potter had defeated Lord Voldemort, thus freeing wizards and Muggles alike from his tyranny. Faith had known that Ginny did not want to hear news of the world she had left behind, but she had informed her young tenant of this particular event, knowing full well she would want to hear this news. She was right of course. Ginny had shed many tears that day, relieved beyond measure that Voldemort was finally dead and hoping desperately that her family were all safe and well. So, with all of this knowledge, and with the certainty that the boy she had once known had a plethora of other heroic deeds to his name, Ginny could be completely certain that Harry would not kidnap her daughter. She shook her head at the absurdity of the notion. Her reminiscences were interrupted by two things: Bonnie calling for her as she always did when she woke up, and the echoing pop of Harry Apparating into the garage below. She heaved a sigh of relief…there would be no need to placate Bonnie after all. Ginny rushed to the flat door and pulled it open and Harry, who was half way up the stairs, looked up at her. “Just come in,” she said, her relief obvious in her voice. “Bonnie has just woken up.” She left the door open and went to her daughter. “Where’s Harry, Mummy?” asked Bonnie as Ginny sat on the bed to help her daughter get dressed. “I'm here, Kewpie.” Harry was leaning against the door jamb with his arms crossed, and at the sight of him, Bonnie smiled, her obvious happiness lighting up her little face. As much as Bonnie was excited to see Harry though, shyness overcame her for an instant and she buried her face against Ginny’s neck. Ginny felt absurdly pleased that her daughter was not a total pushover for a good looking guy, but she magnanimously shrugged a half-hearted apology to Harry. “I’ll wait out here,” said Harry easily. “Can I make a cup of tea?” “The kettle has not long boiled,” answered Ginny, sitting Bonnie on her lap to pull her slippers on. Ginny found that breathing became a little easier after Harry disappeared from her line of sight and her lips tightened into a straight line. What was the matter with her? She was no longer the infatuated idiot who had wasted so much of her young life waiting for Harry Potter to notice her. Why in God’s name did his presence still affect her so? Ginny sat Bonnie on the bathroom bench and began to brush her hair. I no longer care about you, Harry Potter. Not one little bit! “Oww! Mummy, that hurts.” Ginny stopped brushing immediately, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry, Bon-bon. I’ll be more careful.” She dropped a kiss on Bonnie’s head and finished grooming the shoulder-length hair by placing a flower clip above each ear to hold the fine tresses out of her face. As soon as she lifted Bonnie down, the little girl took off for the living room. Ginny sighed and stood for a moment to gather herself, pulling some strands of blonde hair out of the brush and putting them in the bin. So much for Bonnie’s bout of shyness. Maybe if she stayed in here for a little longer, she might actually manage to convince herself that she was totally indifferent to the man in her living room. ~GWHP~ When Ginny entered the living room, Harry was sitting on the sofa with Bonnie on his lap and a storybook in his hand. He was reading Bonnie’s favourite book of the moment —a Little Golden Book called ‘Daddy’s Little Helper’. Ginny walked past them towards the kitchenette; she could feel Harry’s eyes following her for a split second although there was no break in his storytelling. As she passed the small table where she had been sitting before her bout of activity in the kitchen, Ginny came to a horrified stop. She had left her exercise book open and in plain view. She glanced at Harry who was fully immersed in Bonnie’s story; he did not appear to be interested in her at the moment and she quickly closed the book. She gathered it and her pens up and thrust the lot into a drawer, burying them beneath some tea-towels. As she opened the fridge to grab the carton of milk, she prayed silently that Harry had not read any of her scribblings. She felt sure that he would mention it if he had; he would most definitely want to know what she was doing. But Harry did not mention her writing. He virtually ignored her while she puttered around pouring some milk for Bonnie and finishing the preparations for their meal. After Harry had read a grand total of three different stories, Bonnie told him that it was her job to set the table and she hopped off his knee and skipped over to the kitchen. Ginny opened the cutlery drawer and got out the requisite number of spoons and forks which she carefully transferred into the little hands of her daughter with her normal admonition to be very careful. Much to Ginny’s embarrassment, Harry had brought a bottle of red wine and some garlic bread. “You didn’t have to bring anything,” she said knowing that her face was red but hoping that Harry would put her high colour down to the heat from the stove-top. “I know I didn’t,” said Harry as he removed the foil-wrapped bread from its cellophane packaging . “I was landed on you with no notice, so I wanted to contribute. “This needs warming in the oven.” Ginny wasn’t going to argue the point; he had brought the bread and they might as well eat it. Merlin knew that by dividing the sauce between the three of them, their servings were not going to be overly large. Thank goodness she had made enough sauce so that she could freeze half of it for another meal, otherwise she would have been even more embarrassed by the size of the portion she would be able to offer Harry. “Thank you,” she said in a stiff voice as she placed the foil parcel on a tray and slipped it into the tiny oven. “Do you have a cork-screw?” asked Harry, holding up the bottle of wine. Ginny rubbed her forehead, her embarrassment increasing. “Actually, no I don’t. I don’t drink so I’ve never had the need for one.” Harry was sure that the only reason Ginny didn’t drink even the occasional glass of wine with a meal was because she could not afford to buy it. It was not difficult to see that Ginny lived on a shoe-string budget, even with her part-time job. He held up the bottle. “Would you like to try it? Red wine goes beautifully with Italian food.” “No thank you,” said Ginny, even more stiffly. “But don’t let me stop you. I’m sure opening the bottle won’t present a problem for you. Just do it surreptitiously.” She jerked her head towards Bonnie who had the tip of her tongue sticking out in concentration as she carefully laid out the cutlery. Harry’s lips tightened in irritation; as if he would blatantly use magic in front of the little girl. He took a deep breath to calm himself before slowly moving his head back and forth. “If you don’t want a drink, then I can do without as well.” He crossed the room and slipped the bottle into one of the deep pockets in his coat Bonnie piped up at that moment and Ginny breathed a sigh of relief that she could concentrate on her daughter rather than Harry. “Mummy, we haven’t got a chair for Harry.” Alas, her relief was short-lived indeed, suddenly her embarrassment intensified. What was the matter with her? Why had she not thought about the fact that her tiny dining setting could only seat two? She had never had a guest stay for a meal until Harry had insinuated himself into her life. He had provided the meal that first evening–fish and chips–and seating had not been a problem then because Bonnie had been in bed. Until this evening, that had been the only time Harry had dined here. Ginny did not invite people to her home; the chance of someone seeing something they would not be able to believe was one that Ginny was unwilling to take —Bonnie, like all magical children had bursts of accidental magic and Ginny did everything in her power to make sure they were not witnessed by anyone but herself and Faith. So far, she had been lucky. Whenever she took Bonnie out anywhere these days, she was always on tenterhooks because Bonnie’s bouts of uncontrolled magic were becoming more frequent. Harry was talking and Ginny tuned back in to what was happening in her home. “That won’t be a problem,” he was saying to Bonnie. “I think I saw a chair down in the garage. I’ll just go and get it.” Ginny’s eyes widened as Harry strode from the flat; she heard him clattering down the stairs. Less than thirty seconds later he had returned carrying a wooden chair. Bonnie clapped her hands; all was right with her little world again. Ginny didn't think that her own world was ever going to be right again. She fumed silently as she turned off the heat under the spaghetti and carried the saucepan to the sink where she tipped its contents into a colander. ~HPGW~ The meal was delicious–Ginny seemed to have inherited her mother’s talent in the kitchen–but if it had not been for Bonnie, Harry was sure both he and Ginny would have ended up with indigestion, so tense was the atmosphere between the pair of them. While he ate, Harry kept an amused eye on Bonnie’s efforts to wind the long noodles around her little fork; she had forbidden her mother to cut them up so that she could eat her meal with a spoon because ‘she was a big girl now’. Ginny, whose serving had been little bigger than her daughter’s, finished her meal quickly. She then gently insisted on guiding Bonnie as to the correct manoeuvre to get the annoyingly squirmy noodles around her fork. Harry was aware that she was trying to block out his presence, but as they were in such close proximity, that was a task doomed to failure; there knees kept on bumping together under the table. That was a situation that Harry was having trouble coping with. This was the closest he had been to Ginny for such an extended period of time; she usually found an excuse to put half a room between them if they ever ended up within arms reach of each other. Harry was aware that he had received the lion’s share of tonight’s meal and he felt guilty about it. He was also sure that if he was not there, half of the sauce would have been frozen for another meal. He was at a loss as to what he could do though, because he knew that if he turned up on the doorstep with a bag of groceries, then Ginny would more than likely throw the contents of the bag down the stairs and him after them. Harry was just as glad as Ginny when the meal was finally over. He stood up quickly and began to gather up the dishes, silencing Ginny’s objections with reasoned argument. “Why don’t you get Bonnie ready for bed while I clean up in here?” “You don’t have to do that,” insisted Ginny. “No, but I want to. You cooked, I’ll clean.” Ginny could see he was not to be swayed and so she took her daughter and disappeared into the bedroom. The tiny bathroom did not boast a bath but the shower had a deep base that was big enough to bathe the little girl. Ginny took her time, hoping that Harry would finish in the kitchen and then have the decency to leave. Harry had no such plans however, and he good-naturedly succumbed to Bonnie’s entreaties that he read to her again. Ginny hid her irritation at having this usual bedtime activity wrested from her and she squeezed into a corner of the old sofa and opened the novel she had been trying to read since before Harry had crashed into her life again with all the finesse of a rogue bludger. She could not concentrate on anything, not even her writing for more than fifteen minutes at a time, and it was all the fault of Harry bloody Potter. Ginny was reluctant to send Bonnie to bed because she was a perfect buffer, but when Bonnie’s blonde head drooped to rest against Harry’s chest and her eyelids began to flutter closed, Ginny knew she had to become the responsible mother rather than the nervous woman. When she stood to lift Bonnie off Harry’s lap, he shook his head, put down the book and stood with the soft, sweet-smelling bundle in his arms. “I’ll carry her,” he said softly and he marched into the bedroom and gently deposited Bonnie onto her bed. Gentleness notwithstanding, Bonnie instantly awoke and tried to push herself into a sitting position. “Nooo!” she grizzled, “I not tired.” She immediately made a lie of this statement by yawning widely. “I think you are Kewpie,” contradicted Harry gently, and he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. “It’s late and Mummy needs to tuck you in.” “Are you coming tomorrow, Harry?” asked Bonnie, her wide sleepy eyes trained on him as he moved aside so that Ginny could move forward. “Harry has to do other things sometimes, Bonnie,” said Ginny quickly. “He might be busy tomorrow.” Harry didn’t have a chance to contradict that statement before Bonnie started to scream. “No!” I DON’T WANT HARRY TO LEAVE! HE MIGHT NOT COME BACK!” “Bonnie, that’s enough!” said Ginny sternly. Bonnie was kicking her legs wildly and trying to squirm out from under the covers, screaming the whole time. Harry moved forward to try and assist Ginny but she turned flinty eyes upon him as she continued to struggle to keep her daughter on the bed. “Haven’t you done enough? Will you please go and wait in the other room?” Harry rubbed the old scar on his forehead, something he rarely did these days and only when he was supremely frustrated; he wanted to point out that if Ginny hadn’t told her daughter that he might not come tomorrow, this tantrum would probably have been avoided. Right now though, it did seem as if his presence was only exacerbating things. He turned towards the door, but before he could take a step, Bonnie stopped screaming and a fraction of a second later, the door slammed shut with a wall shaking BANG! Ginny and Harry both stared at the door, their mouths open in shock. Bonnie took advantage of her mother’s loosened grip and she squirmed off the bed and ran to wrap her arms around Harry’s legs; she was now sobbing loudly. Harry automatically bent down to swing the little girl into his arms; he cradled her head against his neck and rocked her from side to side. Ginny had collapsed onto the floor beside the bed where she continued to stare at the door as if she was in a daze. Then her deadened gaze moved from the door and locked with Harry’s remorseful green eyes over the top of Bonnie’s blonde curls. Harry knew that this was aberrant behaviour for the little girl and he truly did not get any pleasure out of this situation…he really did not want Ginny’s life to be made this difficult; he just wanted to convince her to come home where she and Bonnie belonged. He opened his mouth to tell Ginny this, but to his horror, Ginny covered her eyes with her hand and leaned her head back against the mattress as her shoulders began to shake with silent, wracking sobs. Harry remained frozen for a second and then he took the two steps that brought him to Ginny’s side, and with Bonnie still in his arms, he lowered himself to the floor and put his arm around Ginny’s quaking shoulders, pulling her against his side. The kindness was too much and an anguished cry finally escaped Ginny and her sobs became audible; she buried her head against Harry’s chest, quickly dampening his shirt with her tears. “Shh, Gin, it’s okay. Everything will be all right,” he crooned softly, his mouth against her hair. Ginny shook her head and continued to sob. Bonnie heard her mother’s sobs and her own tears ceased immediately. She lifted her head from where she had burrowed it into Harry’s neck and looked at her mother. Then her little face crumpled again and she began crying anew with the fright of seeing her mother so distressed. “Mummy!” Bonnie flung herself awkwardly across Harry and tried to insinuate herself into Ginny’s arms. Ginny had grasped a handful of Harry’s shirt and for a few seconds chaos ensued as Harry tried to hold an upset and determined Bonnie back so that Ginny could gather herself together enough to take her daughter in her arms. Finally, the three of them were sitting in a huddle…Harry still had his arm around Ginny’s shoulders and Bonnie clung to her mother like a limpet. Harry sat stoically as Bonnie sobbed loudly and Ginny tried to gather herself together. He did not know how long they sat there, leaning against the bed, but he knew his butt was going numb when Bonnie’s sobs began to peter out and she finally sagged into Ginny’s arms, forcing Ginny more tightly against Harry’s side. Ginny had finally managed to get herself under some semblance of control just before Bonnie fell asleep but she found that she was quite content to stay right where she was. She knew Harry had to be uncomfortable, supporting both her and Bonnie’s weight, but she was too wrung out to move. Silence reigned for many minutes until it was broken by Harry. “Better now?” he whispered, his mouth against Ginny’s sweet-smelling hair again. He shut his eyes and inhaled the fragrance of lavender and sage. Harry suddenly remembered a similar smell pervading the bathroom at the Burrow and he inhaled deeply, allowing the clean, sweet fragrance to fill him up. He did not realise until this moment that he had missed that smell. “She’s releasing wild magic more and more often,” Ginny whispered. “How am I going to live in the Muggle world if my daughter keeps on making weird things happen?” “You’re not alone anymore, Gin. We’ll work it out together.” Harry tightened his arm around her shoulders. Somehow, he found his lips pressed against the red tresses. Ginny’s sore and tired eyes widened when she felt Harry’s gentle kiss. She lay quiescent, pressed against his side and felt him move his mouth again and again to plant little kisses against her head. She closed her eyes and savoured the sensation…savoured the fact that she was in Harry’s arms, just like she had once dreamed of being. She took a deep, shuddering breath and she felt Harry lift his face away from her. No! Don’t move away. Please! Gathering some of the Gryffindor courage she had needed over the last three and a half years, Ginny lifted her head and found herself staring directly into the beautiful green eyes she had fantasised over since she had first seen them when she was eleven. She didn’t even see the stylish, rectangular glasses; though these particular glasses were new, glasses were as much a part of Harry as the messy black hair and the beautiful eyes. Harry swallowed and not giving himself time to think…time to back away, he lowered his head and tasted Ginny Weasley’s lips for the first time. TBC... |
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