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Unforgotten | ||||
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Category: Post-OotP Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Angst Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 29 Summary: Harry and Ginny come to a silent understanding under the heavy beating of water. H/G, r+r Hitcount: Story Total: 10466 |
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Unforgotten Summary: Harry and Ginny come to a silent understanding in the heavy beating of water. H/G, r+r Disclaimer: Plot’s all mine, steal and I’m nasty. Everything else belongs to JKR, the genius. A/N: This story is a portrayal of post-OoTP Harry. Harry in my opinion will do anything to keep the memories from haunting him, and that’s how the story came to be. This has to be my favourite H/G I’ve written, and also my first hand at angst. I hope you like it — do review =) “Ginny — have you seen Harry?” Ginny looked up from her book, her red hair still dark and damp from the shower she’d just taken after Quidditch practice. She shook her head. “I thought he went in for an early night.” Hermione sighed. “No — I haven’t seen him since you and Ron came back up.” “He’s in the showers,” Ron said in a muffled voice. “What - still?” Hermione said, staring at Ron incredulously. “It’s been almost two hours since Quidditch practice.” Ron, still sprawled on the couch and on the brink of unconsciousness (Harry, as Captain, had just held the toughest practice ever), muttered, “Honestly? I don’t care if I don’t see him anymore tonight. He’s lost it, Hermione.” “Ron,” Hermione said warningly. “He’s not wrong, Hermione,” Ginny said quietly, looking into the fire. “I haven’t seen him... well, like that.” “What do you mean? What’s wrong with Harry?” “I don’t know,” Ron admitted, still not opening his eyes. “I’ve never seen him push himself so hard on the pitch. It’s madness. I’m not going to brood over this, I’m passing out.” “No you’re not,” said Hermione. Ron did not respond — he had, as curious as it may seem, fallen out of consciousness. Ginny sighed. “Look, Hermione — I’ll go find him. He’s probably still on the pitch. If we don’t get him back up Filch will probably catch him and give him detention.” Hermione looked like she was about to protest, then she glanced at Ron, and then at the clock, and made a low noise of annoyance. “Alright Ginny, but don’t get caught yourself.” Ginny made her way out of the common room, and out onto the Quidditch Pitch. It was a chilly night, and she pulled her robes closer to her, silently reprimanding herself for forgetting her cloak. The pitch was empty, and Ginny frowned. If Harry wasn’t here... where else could he be? A low sound of beating water attracted Ginny’s attention. It came from the shower rooms near the Pitch, and Ginny cautiously made her way toward it — surely Harry couldn’t still be in the shower? Unable to curb her curiosity and worry for the lad, Ginny slowly walked into the steamy shower rooms. It was misty inside, and the air was damp and warm. Ginny squinted, staring ahead. “Harry?” The water continued to beat down on the walls. Ginny stepped forward, feeling water droplets beginning to stick on her skin. “Harry?” she repeated. “Are you in there?” She heard a shuffle in one of the stalls, and hurried toward it, tapping on the door. “Harry, it’s me, Ginny,” she said, leaning against the door. “Are you alright?” His voice was quiet against the rushing water. “Go away.” Ginny bit her lip, frowning slightly. “Harry,” she said, firmly, “I’m not leaving you here, you need to come out.” A dry laugh came from within the stall. Ginny clenched her jaw. “Let me warn you, Harry, I’ve seen enough in The Burrow, so I’m not going to be embarrassed seeing you in whatever state you’re in — “ The door swung open, and a drenched Harry stood there, the water still beating down on his back. His Quidditch robes were completely wet and dripping, and his was hair stuck to his forehead. Harry looked stonily at Ginny, who stood there gaping for a moment, before pushing past him and switching off the tap. “Harry — what on earth — “ Harry didn’t reply. The sudden silence rung in Ginny’s ears, and she stepped back, tentatively reaching for his shoulder. “Are you alright?” she asked softly. Harry’s green eyes were red from what seemed like crying. He muttered something, but Ginny couldn’t hear him. “Harry?” Ginny ventured again. “Please say something, anything — “ It happened too fast. Before Ginny knew it, Harry’s lips were on hers, and she would have slipped if Harry wasn’t clinging onto her so tightly. Ginny’s hands flailed — she had no idea where to put them. One of her hands smacked onto the tap, and once again the sound of rushing water filled the stall, beating down heavily on her and Harry. For a few moments Ginny was too stunned to do anything as Harry kissed her. His lips were soft — salty — as they moved against hers, but Ginny did not respond. All she could feel was Harry’s hands clutching her so tightly it hurt, and his entire being against hers as he trapped her against the narrow wall of the stall — It took Ginny all her might and will to finally push Harry away from her. “No,” she whispered. Harry leaned forward again, but his lips barely grazed hers when Ginny pushed him off again, her eyes filling with angry tears. “Harry — no!” This time, the impact smacked sense into Harry. Ginny, red and torn in an array of emotions, stared at him, panting, and she watched miserably as Harry sank onto the floor against the wet walls, his head bent forward. Ginny could not move. The water beat down on them both, but Ginny scarcely felt it. All she could hear now was Harry’s heaving breaths, and despite herself she slowly crouched down beside him, a shaking hand landing on his shoulder. “Harry,” she began. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, not looking at her. “I had to forget — I needed to forget — “ “Forget what, Harry?” Ginny asked quietly, her voice barely audible against the heavy pattering of water on and beside them. “Everything. Anything. I can’t forget, Ginny, I thought... I thought I could, but I can’t - ” Ginny understood, and her heart shattered. She stared at the side of his face, slightly startled to see a single tear fall down his cheek — it was obvious, even with the water against them — “I’m sorry,” he whispered again. Ginny inched closer to him, and placed her arms around him, pulling him to her, his head on her shoulder. It was now, when Ginny could not see his face, that she felt his sobs, and his warm tears sank into her robes as the water fell against them. Ginny held on to him tightly, closing her eyes, memories of a past she’d tried to forget resurfacing. Everything. Anything. I can’t forget, Ginny... “I understand, Harry,” she said, so softly she was sure he couldn’t hear her. Harry continued to cry on her shoulder, and there they stayed, Ginny holding Harry in her arms, water beating down on them like rainfall. A/N: If it seems incomplete, it’s because I intended it that way. I hope you like it, and review! =) http://livejournal.com/~firewhisk ey |
| Reviews 29 |
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