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SIYE Time:9:04 on 28th March 2024
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After the Horcrux
By Manwe Valarian

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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:All
Genres: Action/Adventure
Warnings: Death, Mild Language, Rape, Sexual Situations, Violence
Rating: R
Reviews: 138
Summary: Harry and Ginny were meant to be together, but that doesn't mean things will be easy. They must deal with a rebuilding British magical community, fame, and even overprotective family members.
Hitcount: Story Total: 76441; Chapter Total: 2750
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
It is time for the heroes to return to England. The title may seem a little deceiving, because this chapter is about Ginny and some of (my interpretation) of her feelings.
Her flashback memories will be in italics. There is an Authors note at the end of the chapter.




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The plane leveled off at thirty thousand feet, and the “fasten seat belt” lights went off. Harry, the Weasleys, and the Grangers were going home to England. They had left the Singapore airport on their way to Heathrow. In twelve more hours, they will be landing on British soil, and it will be time to start rebuilding their lives.

The stay in Australia lasted an entire month. The first two weeks involved finding Hermione’s parents, and a bit of business with Goblins. The rest of the time had been spent sightseeing, courtesy of the Australian Magical Community. The AMC owned hotels and uses them as their offices. Magical people could Floo from one hotel to another without drawing attention to themselves. There were always magical rooms available for special meetings and purposes at these hotels. Hermione and Harry were amazed at how efficient this system worked to keep ‘folks’ from noticing magical activities.

Hermione had asked several officials how they were able to run electronic devices around all the magic. Electrical items don’t work in the magical homes and locations of England. She discovered that certain concealment charms interfered with the electrical systems. The Muggle Repelling Charm was the most notable. They don’t use these in Australia, so they can also use Muggle electrical devices.

Brad Carl had arranged for the return trip to Sydney to take eight days so that everyone could spend time enjoying Australia. He had even made sure their return flight was a standard Sydney to London flight, with only one stop at Singapore, for a couple of hours. He arranged diplomatic passes for them so that they did not have to go through security scans in the airports.

“Are you going to sleep?” asked Harry. It was eleven o’clock at night, and people all around them were turning off their personal reading lights to go to sleep.

“I think I will stay up for a bit,” replied Ginny, as she pulled out a scrapbook filled with loose newspaper clippings, photos, and various memorabilia of Australia. “I want to do a little studying, to try to figure out where you will be in tomorrows Daily Prophet.”

This statement made Harry grunt and shake his head. “I can’t believe you are still playing that game, besides you need to find three locations. We have been receiving papers a day late, plus our day for travel, and there will be a new Prophet tomorrow morning.” The Daily Prophet has been reporting “Harry Potter sightings” everyday, while he has been in Australia. He has been reported to be all over Great Britain at various residences, and sometimes the sightings have even been accompanied with pictures of someone with glasses and black hair. The sightings have been such a joke to everyone around him, they started a “Where’s Harry” pool. The Grangers, of all people, thought of the idea. It seems that this is a common thing among Muggles to get friends together and make friendly wagers on various things, usually sporting events, like football, cricket, and rugby. Ron has been the only one to guess right so far, with his standard “downtown London” and “Diagon Alley” guesses.

“That’s right,” she said with a laugh. “I definitely need to think about this. I don’t want Ron to beat me, and he is the only person to even guess where the Prophet sighted you. Besides, I would like to know who else you have been with these past few days.” She looked up from her scrapbook and stared at Harry with a raised eyebrow. The sightings have usually been by witches that many times have claimed he spent the night or weekend with them. These sightings made Ginny uneasy, even if she outwardly laughed about them. Harry has become the “most eligible bachelor” in the magical community. Gilderoy Lockhart had propagated this mystique of a handsome powerful wizard, with all his false accomplishments, but Harry’s were real and witnessed, and he’s younger and better looking, at least Ginny thinks so.

“Blimey, Ginny, you’re not going to believe these reports whenever we get back? Are you?” Harry asked with a bit of concern in his voice. “I mean most of those pictures don’t even look like me. You know where I’ve been the past month.”

Ginny smiled at his concern. It made her happy that he wanted to reassure her that he was dedicated to her. She doesn’t have any doubts about Harry’s love for her. She doesn’t trust the other unscrupulous women out there, like Romilda Vane and Australia’s “Tart Brigade”. “I won’t be concerned, until these pictures start looking like you, instead of these cheesy imposters.”

“Good point!” snorted Harry. “I certainly don’t look like any of those blokes. One of them even had grey hair.”

Ginny smiled at his comment, because Harry doesn’t look like any of the pictures in the paper, not even the ones of himself. He appears to have become younger looking, in the past month. There were lines of worry on his face and he always appeared tired in all the pictures of him, even the ones from the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Ginny had never noticed those things before, because they had always been there. She didn’t even notice them leaving his face, because she was seeing him everyday. It was Hermione’s parents, who noted the difference in Harry’s looks, from the pictures in the paper. Once they said something, then Ginny saw it straight away. The change in Harry isn’t unexpected, since he no longer is carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and a piece of Voldemort’s soul inside of him.

After realizing how Harry had changed, Ginny started to notice how everyone else had also changed. Her mother had changed the most dramatically. She can’t even remember her mum looking so young and happy. When they first arrived in Australia, her Mum was looking tired and haggard. Everyone assumed it was the death of Fred weighing heavily on her. She was having terrible nightmares. When they were at Regi’s house her Mum and Dad was up most of the nights, because of her nightmares. No one realized how bad off she was until then. It seemed that her Dad had been taking care of many of her Mum’s normal responsibilities, because of her state. Then suddenly she was happy again, and Ginny and Harry stumbled upon them skinny-dipping and Merlin knows what else. The thought of that night still makes her shiver.

After that fateful night and the argument that followed, the vacationers were split into two groups of four. Ron, Hermione, and her parents spent almost all their time together, since Hermione hadn’t spent much time with her parents since her fourth year. Harry, Ginny, and her parents were the other four, since her parents didn’t trust to leave the two love birds, as they were called, out of their sight. This annoyed Ginny in two ways: first, was they didn’t trust her, and second was that her parents continued to act like a couple of newlyweds, always holding hands and snogging in public.

Ginny looked over at her parents and there they were holding hands and her Mum had her head on her Dad’s shoulder. “Why must they do that?” whispered Ginny.

“Who, your parents?” asked Harry. His voice startled Ginny, because she hadn’t realized she spoke her thoughts aloud. “I think it’s good to see them still so in love. Don’t you want to still be that in love when we’re that age?”

Ginny smiled at Harry’s last statement, as thoughts of the two of them still holding hands and snogging, with grey hair, filled her head. “That’s not the point…” she said. “It’s the fact that they are MY PARENTS, and it’s embarrassing.”

“You are such an old prude, Ginny,” said her Dad with a smile. He had been earwigging while pretending to be sleeping. “There is nothing wrong with married couples showing affection.” Ginny noticed that he stressed the word married.

“A kiss goodbye or good morning is enough affection, in front of your children,” she replied. Harry, her Dad and Mum both laughed at her comment. “The last thing I need is another sibling.”

“Don’t worry dear, your father and I have that sorted out already.”

Ginny blushed and opened her mouth to say something but quickly closed it. She looked over at Harry to see what his reaction was to her parent’s comments, and he was smiling at her. He said the entire time they had been touring Australia that he enjoyed seeing parents acting that way. He often made comments about how different it was from being with the Dursley’s, but he wouldn’t offer any more information about them. “I think I’ll go back to my scrap book, thank you very much for that information,” Ginny said in a whisper that came out like a hiss.

Her parents closed their eyes and leaned on each other for their kip. Ginny opened her scrapbook, oblivious to what Harry was doing. She stared at the articles but couldn’t get her parents actions out of her thoughts. After leaving Regi’s, they traveled to Cooktown, and stayed there for several days. The AMC had a hotel on the beach where they stayed. She can remember the second day there, Harry had convinced her, to wake up before dawn, so that they could watch the sun come up over the ocean. Of course, her parents had joined them. They wouldn’t even trust her alone with him for a couple of hours. They sat on the deserted beach wrapped in a blanket and watched one of the most beautiful things she has ever seen. As the sun rose, its rays made the ocean appear to glisten as though covered with millions of little stars, which changed from red to gold and finally to silver. The sight was so breathtaking that watching the sunrise became a daily activity for the rest of the vacation. Even when they were not staying within walking distance of a beach, they would Apparate to a beach then back to the hotel for breakfast. The only problem, with getting up this early, is they all needed a kip in the afternoon, but it was a vacation, so it wasn’t a big deal. This turned out to be a good thing for Ginny, most of the time her and Harry would fall asleep in each other’s arms somewhere, as long as they weren’t alone in their room. As she thinks about waking up in his arms, a warm dreamy smile graces her face.

“… Edinburg, and…” Harry’s voice brought Ginny out of her trance.

“What did you say?”

“I said,” stated Harry. “I will be spotted writing a novel in a coffee shop in Edinburg and teaching a fifteen-year-old Slytherin to cast a Patronus in Suffolk, and weeding gardens in Little Whinging. Those are my guesses, aren’t you going to write them down?”

“Oh yes, I shall do that, but those are some of the dumbest guesses I’ve ever heard,” she scoffed at him. Ginny wrote down what Harry had said, on a loose piece of paper and stuck it in her scrapbook.

“I think they are all dumb, to be honest with you,” he said with a hint of sadness in his voice. “I wish I could just walk down around Diagon Alley holding your hand, without ending up on the front page of the Daily Prophet. That would not be possible, unless I’m in a disguise. I’m sorry Ginny that things have to be this way.” Harry had wrapped both his hands around her left hand and looked pleadingly into her eyes.

Ginny was so absorbed by this, she couldn’t think of anything to say. She stared into his green eyes for a moment, amazed at the love that filled them. “I don’t care as long as we are together. Hermione and Dad both say that you are excellent at transfiguring your hair and features. Don’t worry Harry; I am sure the Prophet will get bored with you eventually.” She leaned over and kissed him gently on his lips. “Just remember, I will not go out in the public if you transfigure your hair red and you have freckles. I will not date someone who looks like one of my brothers,” she stated rather firmly. She looked at Harry to see if this last comment had bothered him. The first time she told him that, she continued talking and mentioned Michael and Dean. When she looked at him again, he had a pained expression on his face, almost like he was jealous of those two. If that is true then Harry is being silly, because she never loved Michael or Dean.

“I wonder how your brothers are doing?” asked Harry.

“You mean George?”

“Yes, mainly him, but I am concerned about all of them. I feel like I have abandoned them, by going to Australia, but I owed it to Hermione. She has done so much for me over the years,” sighed Harry.

“I am concerned about George too. He is your typical Weasley man. Tries to be all-tough and not let anyone know that he is falling apart on the inside. All my brothers are like that,” mumbled Ginny under her breath so that only Harry could hear.

“Yeah, I guess your right, except it isn’t confined to the Weasley men,” Harry shot back at her with a pointed stare.

“You’re right. I am like that, but I came by it honestly…” Ginny’s thoughts returned to when she was six years old, and her and Ron had been running and playing in the garden. They collided, hit their heads, and fell scraping their knees.

“…there, there Ginny, everything will be alright,” consoled Fred. He had picked up his crying little sister and was trying to get her to stop and find out what was wrong with her, a very considerate thing to do for a nine-year-old boy. “Can I look at your knees now? I need to see how hurt they are.” Ginny wrapped her arms tighter around his neck and pulled her left knee up for him to see.

“Ron, stop your sniveling and get off the ground. Blimey, you were run over by a little girl,” barked George. “Act like a man, not some whiney little girl.” Ron had also hit his head, fell, and scraped his knees, but the twins seemed to have no compassion for him.

“Ron ith hurt too, George,” said Ginny. “Why don’t you pick him up and thee if he ith hurt.” Ginny was missing her front teeth and spoke with a pronounced lisp.

“Because he is a boy, and boys, or I should say men don’t cry,” stated George imperiously. “Men are to be strong for girls, because girls can’t help but cry.”

“Thatth thtupid!” spat Ginny. George’s indication that girls are weak angered her. “You make it thound, like we girlth are weak.”

George and Fred both laughed at her statement and then said in unison, “You are what you are.”

“Who told you that? You two are making it up!” Ginny had pushed herself away from Fred and stood there facing the twins with her hands clenched in fists. She stomped her right foot with each statement for emphasis. “Who! Who told you that lie!!”

“Dad!” replied the twins.

“Did not!”

“Did to!”

“Did not! Did not! Did not!” her last words were almost a high-pitched scream.

“He told Bill, after Uncles Fabian and Gideon’s funeral, that it was the man’s job to be strong for the women. That was why he didn’t cry at the funeral, because he was being strong for Mum! So There! He said it!” yelled George at his little sister, who still looked like she would start throwing punches at any second.

Fred took over for George and said mockingly, “You girls can’t help it. It is just the way you are.”

“I am not weak!” shouted Ginny. She crossed her arms in defiance of her older brothers. “I will never cry. I am jutht ath thtrong ath any man. Jutht becauthe we are prettier, it doethn’t mean we are weak.” Ignoring her bloody knees and the egg sized knot on her forehead she turned and walked away from her brothers and went inside to her room.


“Hello Ginny! Are you in there?” Harry asked as he waved a hand in front of her face. “Whatever you were thinking about must have been good.”

“I was just remembering the time that I promised that I would never cry again in my life,” replied Ginny. “Only two things made me break that promise; Fred’s death and you.”

Harry looked taken back by her candid revelation. He looked ashamed of himself and shakily muttered, “I’m sorry.”

Ginny smiled at him before reassuring him, “I cried over our break up and when I thought I’d never see you again.” She wrapped both her hands around his right and looked lovingly at him and whispered so softly that he had to lean in to hear. “I also cried when you told me you loved me. So, you have made me cry for good things too.” She kissed him gently on the lips. As she was pulling away from the kiss, she looked him in the eye with a hardened expression and whispered, “If you tell anyone that, I will curse your bits off.” She let out a little laugh, “I must keep my reputation intact.”

Harry threw his head back and let out a loud laugh at Ginny’s last statement. This stirred many of the passengers around them, who woke up and gave him dirty looks for disturbing their slumber. After several minutes of mumbling, everyone fell back to sleep except Harry and Ginny.

“We should try to get some sleep, or we’ll be completely knackered when we get home,” plied Harry.

Ginny looked at him, still thinking about him laughing at her comment. His laughter wasn’t mocking or fake, but for some unknown reason to her it made her feel good. He seemed so pleased that she was strong and determined. She had always been afraid that he would want her to be more submissive, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Without even saying a word, she grabbed his shirt with both hands and pulled him into her for a deep passionate kiss. As she felt his strong arms wrap around her, she melted into him. She never felt inferior to him, but his equal. All ability to think about these things disappeared as she reveled in the feel of his warm lips and strong tongue. As she breathed through her nose so that she wouldn’t need to stop snogging his scent made her head spin. She wasn’t sure if it was his aftershave or if it just the way he smelled, whatever the scent is, it stirs her deeply and passionately. She lost all thoughts about where they were, and she grabbed the back of his head with one hand and his shoulder with the other and tried to pull him tighter to her. The feel of her fingers in his thick hair and on his strong muscular shoulder made her want to be even closer to him. She pulled herself to him only to feel the armrest dig painfully into her side. She broke the kiss. Looking up at Harry, he looked like he had just been hit in the head with a Bludger. She loved making him look like that.

She was going to snog him again, “Oi! Stop that! You two. We are on a plane and people are watching.”

Ginny turned to see Ron staring at her and Harry with murderous look on his face. She looked over at her parents, and luckily, they appeared to be asleep.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for hours…”

“Ron, that’s a pile of troll dung!” exclaimed Ginny with a forceful whisper. “Can’t I even kiss Harry goodnight?”

“He should be good for about the next two weeks, if you ask me.”

“Nobody asked you! Now leave us alone,” countered Ginny. She looked at Harry who had lost his dazed look.

“I should be getting some sleep, Ginny, besides Ron is right, that was one hell of a goodnight kiss,” offered Harry. He leaned over and kissed her gently on the forehead, before reclining his seat. He leaned back and turned to face her. He ran his fingers over her cheek and through her hair, before whispering, “Good night.”

Ginny sat there staring at his face, as though she was trying to memorize every millimetre of it. She had done this already. She could close her eyes and tell someone every detail of his face from memory. However, she still sat there looking at him for some time, until everyone around her was asleep.

Sitting awake, while everyone around her was asleep, was when Ginny stopped to think about life. Many times, she would wake up at the Burrow, Hogwarts, her Aunt Muriel’s, and various places this past month and sit, and wonder, and worry about her life. Up until a month ago, she was always concerned about defeating Voldemort and his Death Eater and hoping that everyone she loves would still be alive. For the past month, she worried that everything that happened was actually a dream. She will wake up back at her Aunt Muriel’s and the war will still be going on.

No one was supposed to survive the war. She should be dead. Harry should be dead. All the Weasleys and Grangers should be dead, but they are not. One of her most confusing feelings were when she thinks about Fred dying. She loved him. Dearly loved him and George, they treated her like a young friend, not an annoying little sister. However, every time she thinks about Fred she also rejoices that he was only one that died out of all her brothers and dear friends. Colin, Tonks, and Remus were also friends, but not as close as Harry and Hermione. Sometimes she even wondered if feeling this way makes her heartless and selfish. Ginny stopped her present train of thoughts, sighs, and tried to clear her head.

Ginny hears Harry’s slow regular breathing. She can’t stop the desire to look at him and watch him sleep. He has an innocent and calm look to him, now. She hopes he never has another nightmare for as long as he lives. He has seen so many terrible things in his mind, but he is still the same gently boy that she fell in love with. A smile graces her beautiful face as she thinks about her first year at Hogwarts. Harry was very decent to her nicer to her than most students were. With all the bad things that happened to her and she went through, she truly fell in love with him that year. She was infatuated with him, because of his legend, and she thought he was very cute on the platform the year before. It was his reaction, to her singing Valentine, which made her love him. That was probably the dumbest thing she has ever done in her life. She embarrassed him when the troll tackled him in the hallway crowded with students. Then sang that song she had penned. She ran away because of her own embarrassment from Draco’s vicious comment. Harry never said anything to her about it. He seemed to feel sorry for her embarrassment. Most boys would have ridiculed her, yelled at her, or shunned her completely. Harry was still as nice to her after that incident as he was before. It takes someone with a big heart to behave like that.

Ginny pulled her gaze away from Harry’s face. She stared down at her scrapbook. She wanted to write down for her three guesses: shagging Ginny Weasley, shagging Ginny Weasley, and shagging Ginny Weasley. No one would probably find any humor in those. Therefore, she wrote down three towns she thought about and conceded defeat to Ron.

She looked through the rest of the things in the scrapbook, after writing down her three lame guesses. She was looking at the various pictures that she had of everyone in Australia. One picture brought a frown to her face. It shouldn’t, but it brought her back to the realities of dating Harry Potter. It was a picture of her and Harry at the going away party the AMC threw for them, the last night they were there. Harry wore in a rust coloured suit and had his arm around her. She had a pale blue dress. It was short sleeved and came to just below her knees. She had dressed conservatively for this event, because the entire AMC would be there, and she wanted to appear proper for Harry. In the background of the picture, there stood a group of young witches, daughters of the high-ranking officials in the AMC, which followed Harry around all night trying to get him away from her. She could have worn her little black dress from the first night and still looked conservative next to the “Tart Brigade”. They were all showing more skin than many would show in a one-piece bathing suit.

Ginny walked over to the bar. “I want something strong, but it must taste good,” she asked the bartender with a sweet voice and smile. He looked at her for a few seconds before starting to mix up some complicated drink. She turned to look at the exit where the loos are located. Harry was in one, but what was irritating her was the gaggle of witches standing by the exit waiting for him.

As she stood there watching them, the bartender returned with a large glass with an umbrella and a bunch of fruit on a plastic sword. She looked at it, then at the bartender. “It’s called a Grogg,” he said. “You can only order one a night, Miss Weasley, because its one of the strongest drinks we make.”

Ginny took a sip, “It tastes like fruit juice.”

“It’s a mix of coconut milk, pineapple juice, and doubles of rum, vodka, tequila, triple sec, and crème de banana so drink slowly, Miss Weasley.”

Ginny thanked him again and walked towards the buffet table. She looked over towards the loo and saw Harry being dragged off by Mr. Carl towards some other dignitary. This had been going on all night, she had accompanied him the first ten times, but everyone ignored her, so she would wait for him to come back. She watched Mr. Carl and Harry walk across the large hall weaving between tables, and the witches following behind them.

“What are you scowling about, Ginny,” asked Hermione, she had walked up to Ginny as she stood by the buffet table.

Ginny looked at Hermione. She had accompanied Ron to the buffet table for probably the fifth time that night. He was looking around trying to decide what to eat next. “The local collection of tarts over there,” Ginny said sarcastically as she pointed directly at the group of girls who were now trying to get Harry’s attention as he spoke with another high-ranking wizard.

“Tarts, where are there tarts?” asked Ron as he looked around the collection of food.

Ginny and Hermione looked at each other and had to suppress their laughter at her brother’s remark. “There, over there Ron, with the desserts.”

“Do you think they have any cherry…”

“Not a chance, Ron, not a chance,” laughed Ginny. As Ron walked away looking for the desserts, Hermione slapped Ginny’s shoulder.

“You really are in a cheeky mood tonight,” commented Hermione.

“If you had that gaggle of tarts following Ron around all night trying to tear him away from you, how would you feel?”

Hermione stood there and looked at the collection of young witches, the way they were dressed, and how they were trying to catch Harry’s attention. She looked at Ginny with an apologetic expression. “I am amazed you haven’t cursed the whole lot of them?”

“I have felt like it, but I don’t want to make a huge scene, to upset Harry. I guess I had better get use to this type of thing,” she said gloomily. Looking over at her boyfriend and all the people paying attention to him, she took a long sip of her drink.

“That looks refreshing, what is it called, maybe I’ll order one,” stated Hermione trying to break Ginny’s focus on the events unfolding in front of her.

“It’s called a Grogg. You may want to think twice before you order it. It is pretty strong.” As Ginny told Hermione what was in the drink, the expression on her face went from concern to shock to her bossy prefect look.

“You shouldn’t be drinking that. You could get inebriated and start cursing half the women in this place for looking at Harry,” demanded Hermione.

Ginny started to laugh at her friend. “Inebriated! Inebriated, only you would say that Hermione. No! I don’t plan on getting pissed. Unless, Harry leaves with one of them, then I will probably end up getting destroyed.”

“I couldn’t find any tarts on the dessert table, so I grabbed a couple of these things. I think they are called Cannoli.” He handed one to Hermione, who took it from him. She rolled her eyes with pleasure after taking a small bite from the one end.

“Ginny, why don’t you come and join us at the table. Harry will be back over soon,” asked Hermione. The three of them walked over to their table, but, before Ginny could sit down, Harry came back and dragged her out onto the dance floor.

They stayed out there for several songs and talked. It was the only place, they could get time alone together, and Brad Carl seemed to leave them alone if they were dancing. At least one of the “Tart Brigade”, tried to cut in on them with each song, but Harry always refused them. Even during the fast-paced dances, he kept close to Ginny and ignored them as they danced around them. Eventually Ginny had to leave to use the loo, as she was walking off the dance floor she saw Harry being whisked away to another table of dignitaries.

Ginny had used the facilities and was now standing in front of the large mirror in the make-up area of the fancy loo. She was starting to have doubts about herself. Harry tells her that she is pretty, but compared to so many other women, she doesn’t look that pretty. Her red-hair and brown eyes are nothing spectacular. There are so many blonde-haired blue-eyed girls around. Her complexion is what bothers her the most. It is pale. Some people will call it milky, but to her it just looks pale compared to the other witches and their dark tans. The past month she has been spending more time in the sun than she normally does, and now her freckles are dark and plentiful, while the rest of her skin has a slight pink hue to it. What bothers her most, some people who don’t know her, think she is only fourteen or fifteen. It must be because she doesn’t have large breasts. Then there are all those others, who have large breasts, athletic bodies, deep tans, and plenty of money from their family, but Harry still thinks she is pretty.

As she was staring at herself in the mirror, one of the “Tart Brigade” approached her. Cassandra Carl was one of the leaders of the brigade. She was the type of women who spent all day making herself look beautiful, and at night wears skimpy clothes to show the results off. Ginny had been nice to her, because she liked her father so much, but her patience with this self-centered wench was wearing thin.

“Aren’t you the lucky one,” Cassandra told Ginny while staring down her nose. Ginny was immediately reminded of Draco Malfoy’s attitude.

“Why do you say that, Cassandra?”

“You have been getting all the attention tonight from that sexy Boy-Who-Lived,” mocked the conceited witch.

Ginny clenched her fists and had to keep herself from cursing or punching the haughty witch. “Harry!” Ginny stressed his name. “Is not the Boy-Who-Lived to me. He is the Man-Who-Loves me,” spat Ginny, before she walked past Cassandra making sure to bump into her on her way out to find Harry.

She walked back to her table to find Harry sitting there looking nervous. He jumped up grabbed her and kissed her passionately disregarding the fact that Ron and her parents were watching them. He pulled away from the kiss and looked at her. “You can’t leave my side the rest of the night. I am so tired of those witches hitting on me. It’s really getting pathetic.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!” whispered Ginny. This time, it was her turn to initiate the kiss.


Ginny put the pictures back into her scrapbook. She looked around, to ensure no one was watching her, before placing it inside of her magical purse. Leaning her chair back so she could be face to face with Harry, she kissed his sleeping lips. “Good night Harry Potter, the Man-Who-Loves-Me.”

A/N: I feel the need to explain something in this chapter. When I had originally posted this story on another site, people interpreted Arthur’s comment about why he didn’t cry at Gideon and Fabian’s funeral to mean he truly felt she was weaker. It was a case of him not fully explaining himself. He stayed strong and focused on Molly to help her through the funeral of her murdered brothers. The boys were the ones that thought it meant that girls were weak, not Arthur.
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