Sunshine Bright by myenzie



Summary: A short story about a morning two weeks after Harry returns from his defeat of Voldemort. Follows my earlier short "Fire That Lights My Life."
Rating: G starstarstarstar
Categories: Alternate Universe
Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: Fire & Light
Published: 2010.01.05
Updated: 2010.01.05


Sunshine Bright by myenzie
Chapter 1: Sunshine Bright
Author's Notes:

Sunshine Bright


Harry stretched his arms over his head and twisted a bit, and his back popped. He stifled a yawn and looked up at the bright blue sky that was dotted with fluffy white clouds, the warm yellow ball of the sun still fairly low in the East.

It had been sixteen days and a little over fifteen hours since he had defeated Voldemort and started this new adventure in that mysterious journey called life.

He couldn’t help but smile as he thought back to his return to the Burrow. Ginny had flown into his arms and the kiss they shared had brought the first true joy he had known in months.

And, as he looked into the beautiful golden-brown eyes of his once and again girlfriend, Harry had said three words he had never uttered before in his life, “I love you.” And she had said that she loved him and he had felt more complete than ever he had before.

Of course, they had not been left alone for long. Ron and Hermione and the rest of the Weasleys who were present had swarmed over him, and made him feel as if he truly did have a family that cared for him.

When he told them that it was over, that Riddle was finished, they couldn’t believe it at first. When Mrs. Weasley had flooed to her husband at the Ministry, and he confirmed it, they were overjoyed. Of course, Arthur had returned home and the rest of the Weasleys had been summoned, and Molly had set to cook the biggest feast the world had ever seen, especially once Harry actually admitted that he really was hungry!

So as Mrs. Weasley cooked, the rest of the Weasleys (including Harry and Hermione as honorary members of the family) sat around the great, worn table that was the center of the kitchen, and listened to Harry tell the tale. Ginny had been shocked to learn the true nature of the diary that had haunted her first year at Hogwarts, but Harry calmed her through his presence and his touch and his love, and continued the story. They were all shocked as well to understand what had truly killed Dumbledore — both the ring that had been his death sentence and the poison that had so weakened him the night Dumbledore was murdered by Snape.

He explained the real reasons for Ron and then Hermione’s injuries — reasons the two had felt bound not to disclose until then — and described his meetings with Voldemort in an effort to kill the great snake he had kept as his familiar.

They were all spellbound as Harry told them of the last confrontation, the one that had happened earlier that day.

Mrs. Weasley dropped the pot of green beans she was holding when Harry admitted he had, again, been hit by the killing curse; Hermione and Ginny cried out and Ginny hugged him tighter than was honestly comfortable, and all the Weasleys at the table looked more pale than the ghosts at Hogwarts.

If it had been quiet earlier, it was entirely silent when Harry described his encounter with Sirius, and the nature of his death and rebirth. He told them he was a Horcrux, too, and that Riddle would not have died so long as Harry lived, and so his death had been necessary so that they all could live. And he had turned slightly in his seat and looked Ginny in the eye when he said that, though he had died for them all, he had chosen life out of his love for her.

~ + ~ + ~

The next couple of weeks had been a merciful break. Although he had spoken with the Interim Minister (Kingsley Shacklebolt) about what had transpired, and had even talked briefly with the press, mostly he had lounged about the Burrow.

Ron and Hermione had been gone over a week to Australia (and Harry had been shocked when Mrs. Weasley had not put up the fight that both he and Ron had expected when told that Ron was going with Hermione), and they had heard that all was well and they were all returning by Muggle transport, and would be back in a few days time.

Harry didn’t at that time know where he was going or what he would do with his life — there was only one thing of which he was certain — that he would not take the trip alone, and that the pretty red-haired girl walking toward him would make the journey with him.

She smiled at him and he at her, and it all seemed so good and right, and light filled the world around them.

~ + ~ + ~

Molly Weasley looked out the window after her daughter hade made her way through the kitchen and out the back door. She smiled as Ginny approached her in-every-way-that-mattered son, and flung herself half on the ground beside and half on top of him.

As recently as seventeen days ago, she would have shouted out the window at her daughter’s improper behavior. She certainly would not have stood quietly aside when her youngest son informed her that he was traveling, unescorted, with his girlfriend, halfway around the world.

She pondered the change in perspective wrought by the young man in whose arms her daughter now reclined. Any loving parent wants his or her child to find a good and loving lifemate — she wanted that for each of her children. When she was honest with herself, she especially had worried about her youngest, her only daughter. She knew Ginny was strong and capable and smart — Molly trusted her daughter to make the right choices for herself in life, even though she couldn’t help but worry.

Sixteen days ago, though, she felt the world tilt underneath her feet. Her son — that’s what he was — Harry had died because of his love for all of them. And he had lived, most especially for his love of her daughter.

It was enough to stop the world from spinning on its axis, nearly. She had wanted Ginny to find a man who could love her as she deserved, and she had proof of such a man and such a love, proof beyond anything she could ever imagine.

She had not argued with her son about his trip abroad because her argument that he was too young to truly know if he was in love had been belied by the absolute and indisputable proof of the younger Harry’s love for her daughter.

And she could not interfere in the expression of happiness and joy she saw out the window that morning. It was a beautiful day, with a bright blue sky and fluffy white clouds and a love that shown as bright as sunshine.

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