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Life is Better Red
By LadyGinny

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Category: Post-HBP
Characters:All
Genres: Fluff, General, Romance
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 9
Summary: The color red had never held anything for Harry Potter, until some major events in his life change his view on the color entirely.
Hitcount: Story Total: 5210



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
Mindless fluff, but no dialougue, which I thought fit this story. Hope you like it!




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The color red really had no significance to Harry Potter for a long time. Growing up it was the color of Dudley’s new model bike, the color of the late-night wine Uncle Vernon drank, the color of the ugly mittens Mrs. Figg always knitted him for Christmas, the color of the stain on the hem of Dudley’s old pants and the color of the blood on Harry’s face when Dudley punched him. Red meant nothing to him, and it certainly wasn’t his favorite color, after all, what good things had it been associated with?

The one day his Aunt Petunia showed him a picture of his mum and dad. He looked just like his dad, messy hair, glasses and all, but he had his mum’s eyes, this he knew. But one thing he learned from that picture was that Lily Potter’s hair had been red. A fiery, golden red that glistened in the sunlight of the picture. And Harry knew right then that fate was trying to tell him something, but what he just didn’t know yet. Harry liked red a little more after that.

Then he found out he was a wizard one day and his life changed. On the train platform at King’s Cross, when he was terribly lost and confused, he met a nice, big redheaded family. They all had red hair, from the father’s balding auburn strands to the fiery, golden color of the young girl’s, like his mum’s. On the train he became fast friends with Ron Weasley, the youngest redheaded boy, and found that it was nice to finally have a best mate. And even when he had Hermione, too, he was always glad that he had met Ron, that he had gotten the chance to know him.

Harry liked Ron’s family too, and spent most of his holidays there. He loved the way wherever you went there was a red head present, and he found the fact very comforting, and the way they accepted him like he was family…well it was a feeling that Harry couldn’t describe, being accepted, finally and having a family, even if they weren’t his birth family. He liked the sense of security and warmth and craved it, needed it very much. And seeing so much Weasley red was a sign of family love, and he thought that was a very good thing to see, especially in difficult times.

Then in his second year he saved Ginny Weasley from the Chamber of Secrets, and though she was shy and starstruck around him, he saw something in her that he liked, and he liked her hair too, the long silky strands that were so unique to her. He had nightmares for weeks after the Chamber, always waking up in a sweat, hoping Ginny was alright and trying to reassure himself that of course she was, she was sound asleep in her bed. But it was always a relief to see her in the morning.

In his fifth year he started noticing Ginny a bit more, and he realized that she wasn’t afraid to talk to him anymore, and was always willing to tell him when he was being a daft idiot. He noticed that she was independent, but sweet, and he noticed the way she had grown up, and found her quite beautiful all of a sudden, and wondered when that had happened, and when he had started noticing that.

And then in his sixth year, Harry fancied Ginny. Yes, he did, but he didn’t voice his opinion, instead he watched her go about dating Dean Thomas, the monster in his chest growling unpleasantly. But when Ginny broke up with Dean, he figured he had better take his chance soon, because otherwise, he was going to miss it and he was going to regret it for the rest of his life. And, he figured, he did not want that to happen. So after the Gryffindor Quidditch match one fine and sunny day, after he had grueled through an agonizing detention, and felt his life could get no worse if she rejected him (well, it could, but he didn’t dwell on that), he kissed her, finally running his hands through the mane of long red hair, as he had longed to do.

And then he broke up with her, for the sake of her safety, and realized quite abruptly that he loved her. But he didn’t tell her. Instead he went to find the Horcruxes, and he missed seeing her lovely red hair every day. And he decided, once he got back, he’d let her know how much he cared for her, how much he missed her. But then…then nobody could know, otherwise, he was afraid, he might lose her, and that was worse than anything he could imagine.

And when Harry finally destroyed Voldemort he went back to Ginny, and they rekindled their relationship and Harry finally told her he loved her. And she, in tears, told him she loved him too, and had missed him terribly, and hoped he wouldn’t have to fight anymore Dark Lords in the future. He assured her that wouldn’t be a problem. And she gave him her heart and he gave her his, and they were happy in the fact that they loved each other, and nothing could change that.

And then a year later he made her his bride and took comfort in the fact that he’d be able to see that wonderful, gorgeous red hair every day of his life, and that it belonged to the woman he loved. And maybe, one day, he’d even see it on little bright-eyed children with messy hair, as he wanted. He decided that red was no longer just a color, but an expression of everything that was important to him, despite the fact that it had nothing to do with his life for 11 years, now…now it was everything. Everything he loved. Yes, he found; red was his favorite color. And life was most certainly better with red in it.


Reviews 9
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