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SIYE Time:14:25 on 29th March 2024
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Milestones
By 321jump

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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:None
Genres: Angst, Fluff, General, Romance
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Reviews: 30
Summary: A selection of one-shots, told from Ginny's POV and focusing on the lives of her and Harry directly after the battle. Kind of a follow on to my one-shot 'Silence', but it's not necessary to read that one first.
Hitcount: Story Total: 12889; Chapter Total: 2446
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
Again, there's not a lot of plot! But sometimes you just need some slightly angsty fluff in your life.




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Forty-three days, five hours and nineteen minutes. That's how long it had been since Ginny had seen Harry. Not that she was counting really, other than to acknowledge that it was a really long time and she didn't like it at all. There wasn't much else to do in History of Magic though, and she'd started working it out to keep herself from falling asleep.

Eighteen hours and forty-six minutes until she'd see him next. That thought was uppermost in her mind, nomatter how much she tried to push it down and ignore it, to stop the excitement bubbling up in her stomach.

Stop it! She ordered herself. He might not come. He had Auror training; he could be on assignment. Anything could happen. Her brain listened, but her traitor stomach stayed in knots and her traitor heart agreed with it.

Eighteen hours.

She'd barely slept the last few nights. Hermione had tried vainly to distract her, talking about classes and revision timetables and even, when that didn't work, a brief stab at quidditch. It hadn't helped, and the worst part was that Ginny could tell that Hermione was just as anxious for the Hogsmeade trip as she was.

She didn't care about the shops. Didn't care about the chance to leave the castle and stretch her legs. She might have done, in the past, but it paled in comparison to now. She just wanted to see Harry. And Ron, she added guiltily to herself. She missed her brother too. But she ached for a hug. She felt almost ashamed of that, but she longed for it. Longed for Harry to wrap her in his arms and make her feel safe. The war was over, Hogwarts was back to normal — - everything was fine — but she never felt safe without him. She thought it was less about being protected and more about knowing he was there with her, and not off facing some evil wizards somewhere on his own.

On the whole, she was doing ok. It had been a wrench, coming back to Hogwarts without him after they'd spent the summer together, but she'd had last year without him too. Hermione had had it worse, when she was facing an entire year without Ron and Harry by her side for the first time. At least she and Hermione were in some of the same classes and had a dormitory together this year. At least there was someone else who understood.

She heard from Harry every other day. The only time he didn't write was when he was on an assignment, but he was so new in his Auror training that he'd only had one so far. He'd told her in advance, but she'd still looked up every morning, searching for Jude, the owl she'd helped him to pick out just before her return to school. She knew Harry felt terrible about Hedwig, but Jude had helped, with his cheeky nature. He was more parrot than owl and Ginny adored him.

He'd flown down that morning at breakfast and she'd spent 5 minutes attempting to bribe him, with different breakfast foods, into dropping the note in his beak. He'd finally released it when she’d offered him the last of her bacon, and she'd unfurled it to find Harry's scrawl saying '1 more day : ). Ron says pass it on to Hermione'. She'd snorted at that. It was so like Ron, too oblivious to write his own note until it was too late.

So she’d sat patiently through Defence Against the Dark Arts, set Hermione's left shoe on fire by accident when she failed miserably to concentrate in Charms, endured lunch and Transfiguration and finally, finally, left History of Magic with a spring in her step. Her last lesson. The last one until she saw Harry. She knew it was stupid — had always hated the girls who couldn't seem to last five minutes without their boyfriend — but she still felt like her whole relationship with Harry was unreal. Having spent a year without him, not knowing what he was doing or if he'd survive, then living those heart-wrenching minutes when she'd thought he was dead, any time with him was cherished. She couldn't wait to feel his steady presence next to her again.

She and Hermione abandoned all pretence of acting calm that night. They just sat up, talking about the boys and what they were probably doing at that moment. Remembering Molly's horror when they'd told her they were moving into Grimmauld Place and her relief when they still appeared back at the Burrow every other night for food. Harry was a surprisingly good cook, Ginny had discovered, but Ron was next to useless. Kreacher had passed away shortly after the war ended and Ginny knew enough not to mention him. She knew Harry's feelings towards the elf were confused and painful. Part resentment for his part in Sirius' death, part empathy for the life of servitude that had led the elf to it.

So the boys lived on their own, in a haphazard attempt at a bachelor pad that had become a kind of drop-in point for Neville, George, Dean and Seamus. Ginny had visited with Hermione at Christmas to find Hagrid and Madam Maxime had dropped in as well, and Harry hastily throwing old spell books and socks and sugar quills into the nearest cabinets in an attempt to tidy up for them. She knew her mum also 'popped round' every few days, to scold and chastise and lament over how thin they looked. She seemed to have taken their insistence on moving out as a personal challenge to feed them as much as possible from afar. Although as lanky as ever, both boys were at last starting to regain some of the weight they'd lost during their year on the run. Ginny also suspected that Harry's Auror training would have led to him developing some considerable muscles, but she wasn't likely to find out anytime soon.

She'd seen Harry at Christmas, but her mum, reaching new heights of overprotectiveness even for Molly, had refused to let her visit Grimmauld Place without a chaperone. Shrewdly, Molly had realised pretty quickly that Ron and Hermione would not be suitable. So Ginny and Harry had spent the Christmas holidays at The Burrow, squashed into an armchair together under Molly's watchful eye, while they all tried to make it as normal as possible in the face of loss.

And now it was February, and she hadn't seen Harry in forty-three days, and the remaining hours seemed longer than ever.

It was testament to Hermione's own feelings on the matter that she didn't scold Ginny for taking a sleeping draught that night. They weren't illegal exactly, but they could be addictive if taken for long enough. Once the first prescriptions doled out in the wake of the battle had dwindled away, a black-market type operation had sprung up within the castle, where students brewed them in secret and sold them for money, or homework favours, or even — in the case of one nerdy fifth year — for rare chocolate frog cards. Most nights, if Ginny fell asleep at all, she got through the nightmares through sheer force of will. Tonight, she didn't have the energy. So the swallowed down the vial guiltily, tucked herself into her bed, and drifted into a dreamless sleep to count away the hours until morning.

****

She spotted Ron first. It was hard not to really, with his bright hair and lanky frame. He was craning his neck over the crowds, searching for her and Hermione as they walked through the castle gates. His eye caught hers as he swept a glance by and he started, then spoke off to his side before casting his gaze back to find Hermione. Ginny just caught the tell-tale reddening of his ears before her eyes fell on Harry. He was standing at Ron's side, leaning casually against the dry-stone wall leading from the castle into Hogsmeade village, but his green eyes darted about and his right hand twitched over the wand in his pocket. His hood was pulled up over his head, his skin standing out starkly against the dark fabric. He stilled the moment he saw her. She felt her face break into a grin and he mirrored her, pushing off from the wall to meet her half way.

Ginny had once read one of Aunt Muriel's romance books, where the hero and heroine had run up to each other after an absence and thrown themselves into each other's arms. She amused herself imagining it, as she and Harry made their way sedately towards one another. He reached for her hand when she got close enough, and ducked his head to give her a kiss on the cheek. Aunt Muriel would have been thoroughly disappointed, Ginny thought, but before she could consider her own feelings he'd bundled her into his arms and was hugging her fiercely, arms looped tightly around her back and his face buried in her hair.

She felt herself relax for the first time in weeks. He smelled like Harry, which was a strange mix of apple shampoo and faint wood smoke, the fresh scent of a spring morning and a hint of something that might have been treacle tart. She breathed in deeply, feeling the tension leak out of her shoulders. The overwhelming feeling of safety made her feel dizzy.

He released her after a few moments and grinned shyly down at her, and she reached a hand up to smooth it over his messy hair. His hood had fallen back slightly and the black strands gleamed in the weak sunlight. They stood in the path, splitting the stream of students around them. Ginny became aware suddenly of the calls of 'Hey Harry!', "Nice one Potter!', 'Alright there, mate!' as his old school friends made their way past.

Harry pushed his hood back with a sigh. “So much for that disguise,” he smiled.

Ginny snorted. “I mean, it was a nice idea Harry, but everyone knows we're together. Did you think they'd assume I was kissing someone else?”

He turned ever so slightly red before grinning and folding his hand over hers. Next to them, Ron and Hermione had just untangled themselves and were waiting for them, Hermione's bushy head tucked securely under Ron's chin as he pressed her into his side.

He grinned at Ginny. “Noticed me at last, have you?” Hermione extricated herself from him to hug Harry and Ginny felt herself lifted off the ground as Ron folded her into his arms and patted one hand clumsily on the top of her head. She grinned up at him as he let her go. Hermione came sidling back over to him, beaming.

The journey into Hogsmeade was faster than Ginny could remember. She chatted away, telling harry about quidditch training and Hagrid's newest pet (a Glumbumble he'd named Smiler). Harry, amused, seemed content to let her do all the talking, but she noticed him becoming more restless as they approached the village, and they were almost at the main square when she noticed his wand clenched in one white-knuckled fist. It didn't take long for her to figure out why.

The village was full of journalists. They swarmed the main square, and when the four of them turned the corner into it they were quickly assaulted by a barrage of questions and flashing lights. Instead of moving away, Ginny felt Harry pull her directly into the crowd of journalists, and was confused at first, until she realised they couldn't take photos at such close angles. Harry glanced back, eyes tight, as a wizard with an enormous camera and shockingly bad breath thrust his wand under Ginny's nose and yelled a question at her. Harry pushed it away and yanked Ginny on. She could just see Ron, head and shoulders above the crowd, a few feet away. Harry swung his head around to look at him and they shared a nod.

It suddenly went pitch black. The crowd's squawking got louder and Ginny felt Harry's hand tighten around hers as he pulled her onwards. She was being buffeted from both sides, bouncing from person to person as he tugged her in his wake, until the world lightened infinitesimally and she suddenly felt fabric over her head and was squashed up against Harry's side as he crouched under the Invisibility Cloak with her. They pushed out from the crowd and stood in an alleyway looking back. All she could see was a swirling mess of darkness where the journalists were, although a few were staggering around outside the circle now, looking bewildered in the bright light.

She looked up at Harry as he glanced down at her.

“Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder,” he said, in response to her look. “You ok?”

Ginny nodded. “Did you, er, expect that to happen?”

He shrugged. “I'm channelling Moody. 'Always be prepared', you know.”

He stood up as far as he was able to whilst keeping their feet covered. “I think Ron and Hermione have gone to the Hog's head. Aberforth said we could use the back room.”

“Ok,” Ginny whispered. Harry looked down at her quickly, a frown creasing his features. He reached one hand up to smooth along her cheek and sighed.

“Sorry, Gin. I should have been a bit more careful. I just keep expecting all this to die down. I guess they heard about the Hogsmeade weekend and figured I'd be here visiting you.”

He looked so worried that Ginny pulled his head down to hers under the cloak to kiss him. He made a sound in the back of his throat, part surprise and part pleasure, and pulled her against him, hands hard against her waist. They stayed like that for a few minutes until they both pulled away breathlessly.

Cheeks red, Harry grinned at her. “Maybe I should thank those journalists after all.”

“Maybe we don't need the Hog's Head if we have the cloak,” Ginny whispered back with a wink.

Harry gave her another quick kiss. “Ron will kill me if we don't turn up,” he said ruefully. He paused for a second. “But I guess he doesn’t have to know how long it took us to dodge the journalists on our way there,” he grinned.

Ginny's laugh was cut off as his lips covered hers again. That forty-four day wait was worth every second, she thought.
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