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Finding Us | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: General Warnings: Sexual Situations Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 377 Summary: Ginny Weasley did not bring her wand anywhere anymore. There wasn’t any point ... Harry Potter didn’t really live anywhere. He hadn’t really lived since Ginny Weasley walked out of his life. Hitcount: Story Total: 118370; Chapter Total: 10467 Awards: View Trophy Room |
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Ginny Weasley never liked Mondays. She didn’t know anyone who did. So she supposed she was in good company. Or bad, depending on who was in the company. Some days she wondered if she was the good company or the bad company. This particular Monday felt like bad company. Ginny felt like snapping at everyone. And wondered if it was because she had lain awake most of the night. Thinking about Harry. She had forgotten that Harry went to The Burrow a lot. She shouldn’t have forgotten. He was Ron’s friend after all. And he was looking well. As far as she could tell. Which wasn’t very far because she didn’t dare get close to him. Even though he was watching her. A lot. Probably trying to figure out what she’d done with her hair. Ron was right; she did look like ‘bloody Fleur’. Only a lot less graceful (or, you know … beautiful). Still it wouldn’t have been such a shock (and Hermione might not have threatened to hex him) if she’d let anyone but her parents come and visit. But she’d been adamant. And very surprised Hermione and her parents kept her secret. Of course an Owl could find her and George wrote to her sometimes. But she hadn’t told them where she was. And if they knew, they didn’t visit, just as she’d asked. Sometimes she wondered why they didn’t just find out and visit her anyway. Hermione had probably threatened them. Ginny turned the ‘Closed’ sign over so it read ‘Open’ and checked that she had her shiny ‘Alyson’ badge pinned to her pristine uniform (that had taken her hours to scrub clean). She peered out of the window and groaned. Mrs Adams was marching along the street with a piece of white paper in her hand (and a limp). Mrs Adams filling a prescription was never a good way to start the week (or end it). “Move along girlie,” said Old Mr Williams. “The shelves don’t stock themselves.” His gout must be playing up if he was grumpy enough to call her girlie. Or he’d seen Mrs Adams coming down the street too. Or the fact that she was staring into space daydreaming about Harry Potter’s hair was irritating him. Ginny stocked the shelves with new bubble bath and daydreamed of Harry Potter’s eyes. Mrs Adams wanted antibiotics. And a new shower cap. And something to keep her regular. Ginny hated thinking of people’s regularity. As she punched the buttons on the cash register Ginny frowned at the smiling woman on the box. Mrs Adams couldn’t look like her no matter how many sachets of regularity she took. “I’d better have some of that … cream,” Mrs Adams’s voice fell to a whisper. “Which cream?” Ginny asked. Mrs Adams looked sideways, as if she was being followed. She leaned closer to Ginny and eyed Old Mr Williams grimly. Ginny leaned in too. Mrs Adams had two red spots on her cheeks. Ginny wondered if she hated blushing as much as she did. “The cream … I need the cream that … goes with … the, ah, powder.” Mrs Adams was whispering. “I didn’t know it had any cream.” “She wants the haemorrhoid cream!” called Old Mr Williams from his little counter in the corner. Mrs Adams looked mortified. And Old Mr Williams looked satisfied. And Ginny spent the rest of the morning thinking about Albert, the man with the big brown eyes. And she hoped he didn’t have haemorrhoids. But she was fairly sure she would never see him again to find out (not that she would ask him that). Ginny hadn’t wanted to see a man so badly since she gave up on Harry Potter. Except Harry Potter. But Harry had never noticed her (no matter how badly she wanted to see him). He went off and saved the world. And then he went off to become an Auror (and saved the world some more). And Ginny went back to school (and had to convince Barry Norton she wasn’t interested in pet sitting his snake). And then she went off to become a Quidditch player (and had to convince Ralph Foster she wasn’t interesting in petting his ‘snake’). And then Ginny started losing her magic. So Ginny gave up any hope of Harry Potter ever noticing her. What she needed was a nice Muggle man. Someone nice. Someone dependable. Someone ordinary. Someone like Albert. Who was standing outside the pharmacy staring at her through the window. ****************** Harry Potter never liked weekends. He didn’t know anyone else who didn’t like them. Harry supposed this was just something else that made him odd. And weird. And unlovable. This particular weekend had been different. Seeing Ginny made every feeling he had shoved to the back of his mind (along with the time he caught Ron and Hermione shagging on the kitchen table) come right back up to the front. He started snapping at everyone. Maybe it was just because he was tired because he was awake half the night. Thinking about Ginny Weasley. She never came to The Burrow (which made everyone sad). He never had the chance to look at her these days. And now he had two chances in three days. So he stared at her. A lot. She probably thought he was really creepy. But she never let anyone visit. Harry hadn’t even known where she lived. Hermione wouldn’t tell him, or Ron and they had made her sleep on the couch (until they felt guilty two hours later). They probably could have found out where Ginny was (he was an Auror after all). But no one knew quite what to do with a Ginny who lost her magic and cried a lot. So they never did. George sent her Owls but mostly they didn’t want to make her cry. So they left her alone. Hermione thought they were incredibly mature. Harry checked that he had his wand and then looked up to see who his duelling partner was going to be. He groaned when he saw it was Fenton Avebury. Fenton was always coming up with nasty little hexes that he’d invented. Harry no one wanted to duel him because you never knew what he was going to throw at you. It was the worst way to start a week. But Harry was thinking about Ginny too much and Fenton made a fist appear out of thin air and punch him in the nose. And after the Healer revived him, Harry’s boss sent him home. So Harry went to the Leaky Cauldron. Which was unusual because he never went out. But he needed to talk to someone. And Neville didn’t come to water the plant until the afternoon. And Hannah understood what Harry wanted even though he didn’t say a word. Harry hoped it would be all right. He had never visited Neville before. But he thought Neville wouldn’t mind. Hannah showed Harry to a room near the back of the pub. And Harry shuffled inside and Hannah changed the sign on the door to ‘Private’ and closed it on her way out. “I saw Ginny and I asked her for haemorrhoid cream and she thinks I’m an idiot!” Harry blurted. “Why would you ask Ginny for that?” Neville asked. “There are some really great plants-” “I didn’t mean to!” Neville asked Harry what he meant to do but Harry couldn’t tell him (because he didn’t really know). Neville poured Harry a drink and made him sit in a chair. And Harry told him everything. About Mrs Figg, and the stale cake, and the Kneazle who looks like Crookshanks, and the horrible little mud-splattering paper boy. He told Neville about Ginny and the blonde hair and the brown buckled handbag and the shiny gold badge that read Alyson. “And I told her my name was Albert!” “Don’t you think you should tell her you are Harry?” “But she doesn’t like Harry!” “What makes you think she likes Albert?” Maybe Ginny Weasley didn’t like Albert. But she definitely didn’t like Harry Potter. Not like that anyway. She didn’t bat an eyelid when he had to go on Dumbledore’s little quest (and figure out how to kill Voldemort). And she smiled and congratulated him when he went to be an Auror (and figure out how to capture the bad guys). And then she joined the Harpies and became famous (and rumour had it she was dating the blond Keeper for Montrose). Harry had never liked blonde hair. It reminded him of Malfoy. And then she walked out of his life. So Harry Potter gave up any hope of Ginny Weasley ever noticing him. And with it any hope of anything. Maybe what she wanted was a nice Muggle man. Someone non-magical. Someone dependable. Someone ordinary. Someone like Albert. Harry thanked Neville and said he had to go. And suddenly he was standing outside the pharmacy window staring at her. |
| Reviews 377 |
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