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SIYE Time:21:33 on 28th March 2024
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Another World, Another Time
By herekittykitty

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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-HBP, Post-Hogwarts
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Nymphadora Tonks, Oliver Wood
Genres: Angst, Drama, Fluff, General, Romance, Tragedy
Warnings: Death, Extreme Language, Sexual Situations
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 313
Summary: Life goes on after Voldemort's defeat, even though Harry disappears without a trace. How does Ginny deal with his return four years later, when both of them have become very different people?
Hitcount: Story Total: 117085; Chapter Total: 14416





Author's Notes:
I hope y'all don't hate me forever after this one. I reiterate what I said in the foreword: I solemnly swear I will deliver you much Harry/Ginny goodness in time (and these sorts of things are always so much better if you wait for 'em anyways! ) In the meantime, uh... let's all close our eyes for a moment and picture Sean Biggerstaff with his shirt off. *snicker*




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Fourteen months later...

The tall Mediwizard peeled open the yellow envelope containing the spell test results with agonizing slowness. Molly Weasley was perched precariously on the very edge of her seat, squeezing her daughter’s hand so hard that Ginny was certain she wouldn't be able to hold a wand the next day. However, the pressure was appropriate, given the circumstances...

Hermione paced back and forth behind Ginny and her mom. The nervous energy radiated from the young mediwitch in waves of static electricity; Ginny swore she felt the hair on the back of her arms stand on end as her bushy-haired friend stopped, gripping the back of Mrs. Weasley’s chair with white-knuckled hands.

It was finally here, the day the Weasley family had been waiting for. The mediwizards had performed an exhaustive battery of tests to make sure it was the right time, to make absolutely sure that no possible damage could result from their actions. If they woke him even a day too early, there could be disasterous consequences from spell damage. It could cause permanent brain damage, loss of memory, paralysis, loss of speech. Ginny shivered.

It was better to wait. Hermione reassured them of that fact almost every single day, her nose in one mediwizarding textbook or another during her bedside vigil. But they had been waiting over a year; a year of that same dull beige hospital room, of countless tests, of dry cafeteria food and uncomfortable wooden chairs; a year of staring hopefully at that still body in that hospital bed. A year of waiting. A year of hope.

The tall mediwizard was still peering at the scroll over his wire-rimmed glasses, an inscrutable look on his face as he studied the results carefully. Ginny’s heart was pounding in her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing in deeply.

"Oh, enough with the drama!" Hermione snipped, walking over and yanked the paper from the mediwizard’s hand. Ginny watched the tight lines on her future sister-in-law's face relax for the first time in over a year.

"We can wake him up tomorrow," she whispered, excitement lighting her eyes.

****

A bell began to chime in the distance, slowly growing louder. Ginny opened her eyes reluctantly, and with a snap of her fingers, her alarm charm stopped.

Ginny didn’t need Divination to analyze her dreams - they were always the same.

Memories, picture perfect, a slideshow of events from that last summer, the happiest and, at the same time, maybe the most frightening time of her life. Those long summer days with Harry, Hermione, Luna and Ron, the balmy perfect summer days in which young witches and wizards should be playing Quidditch with their friends, shopping in Hogsmeade, swimming and sunbathing and having a laugh, were instead spent in the Hogwarts library. The four teenagers researched long hours, trying to figure out the next piece in the Horcrux puzzle, with frequent help from Tonks, Remus and other Order members. Sometimes, they’d be up all night, drinking tea in the Gryffindor common room, books and paper heaped higher than their heads on the table. They would often nod off in front of the fire, their faces pressed into the books and scrolls in front of them. Despite their preparation, Ginny hadn’t for a moment guessed the enormity of what was coming. None of them had.

However, research into dark magic was most certainly not what Ginny had been dreaming about. There was a certain theme to her pervasive dreams, a certain face that haunted Ginny’s nights. A certain sort of smile that crossed the face of a boy she hadn’t seen in over a year.

Ginny pulled on her clothes and, after a quick shower, headed down to the kitchen in the Burrow. The residual sadness from her dream was slowly fading. Sometimes, the sorrow stayed with her all day, stuck to her like a fog, but today excitement and nervousness competed for her attention. It was such an important day.

“Want some breakfast, dear?”

“Just toast, Mum,” Ginny said, grabbing a thick piece of buttered toast from the stack on the table “I’m too nervous to eat.”

“Me too, dear,” Molly sighed, eyeing her huge spread warily. As per usual, she took comfort in cooking.

“Don’t worry, Mum, Fred and George will be down soon. They’ll take care of that.” Ginny kissed her mother on the cheek, and grabbed a cup of coffee. “I’m going to the hospital early. I feel skittish.”

“I’ll see you there soon, dear,” her mom replied, looking out the window distractedly as she fiddled with the handle of her coffee mug.
Ginny felt that same distracted energy in every nerve of her body as she Dissapparated, reappearing a moment later in the familiar hospital lobby. She lined up at the coffee stand and grinned to herself, wondering if Hermione had stayed true to last night’s pledge to read the past two year’s Quidditch Quarterly issues in a single night. She had told Ginny she wanted to be able to update Ron on everything he had missed, including all Cannons stats.

And there was definitely an awful lot to update him about, Ginny mused, as she paid for her coffee. So much had happened since Ron’s injury that Ginny had no idea where they could even begin. With Harry? No... something positive. Perhaps that their father being appointed Minister of Magic. The news about Harry could come later. Ginny sighed - of course he would be the first thing Ron would ask about, they were best friends. He’d want to know had Harry defeated him, how Harry was doing now, and he’d want to know the split-second after he woke. She was kidding herself to think otherwise.

Ginny strolled towards the elevators, thoughtful and a little pensive. It was a wonderful day, despite all the sad news they would have to impart. Ginny almost couldn’t believe that later that day, her favourite brother would be beating her senseless at Wizard Chess again. She smiled to herself letting the happiness take hold again. Later, Ron would be snickering at jokes, talking Quidditch and making predictions about the Cannon’s next season. Ina few hours, Ron would be holding his fiancée’s hand-

"Whoa! Weasley, watch where're you're going!" a deep voice growled playfully.

"Oh hell, I’m so sorry, Ollie!" Ginny pulled her wand from the pocket of her pea coat and muttered a quick cleaning spell - the front of the tall man's white oxford shirt was now covered in her coffee. "I didn't burn you, did I?"

"Don’t know. I can't feel anything," Oliver Wood shrugged and, with a crooked smirk, held up his right arm, which was wrapped in a magical brace. "Pain charm. Broke my wrist last night showing the new reserve Keeper a proper Starfish and Stick."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Another injury, Ollie? You secretly live in this hospital, don't you?"

There was no end to Oliver’s Quidditch injuries. The Woods and the Weasleys had become fast friends - his mum shared Ron’s room for several months. Ollie had become their surrogate brother - debating Quidditch with the twins, sharing stories about his wild days at Hogwarts. He had even gotten the Weasley family season tickets to Puddlemere home games, where he was the star Keeper in the League.

"All these injuries give me the perfect excuse to see my favourite gorgeous redhead though, don’t they?" Ollie said with a charming smile. Ginny rolled her eyes and giggled as the lift in front of them opened, and two very tousle-headed, nearly identical faces glared out at them.
"Oi Wood, which one of us redheads would you be talking about?" asked Fred, raising his eyebrow as Oliver and Ginny got on the lift with them.

"Toss off, Fred. I'm the twin everyone loves," George yawned, leaning against the wall of the lift. "However, not even twenty bottles of Firewhisky could tempt me to hook up with Wood, despite those fantastic tabloid rumours. Now Wood, is it true that you-"

"It certainly smells like you've polished off twenty bottles between the both of you," Ginny interrupted, wrinkling her nose at her brothers as the elevator stopped on the fourth floor. “It’s 8:00 am, for Merlin’s sake!”

“Well, it was 8:00 p.m. when we started!” George wailed.

"Just celebrating, is all,” Fred added.

“Can’t blame a bloke for that, now can you?” George stifled a belch.

"What are you boys celebrating, then?" Oliver inquired, as they started down the bustling hallway.

"They're waking Ron up today," Ginny announced triumphantly.

Oliver’s face lit up in a bright grin. "That's brilliant! Congratulations!"

"And to make the day even more unbelievable, those two blonde nurses are on-call," Fred added, nudging George, who cocked an eyebrow appreciatively at two witches, studying patient charts at the nurses’ station down the hall.

“Make sure to drink a sobering potion before Mum gets here.” Ginny rolled her eyes as the tall redheads sauntered away, smoothing down their robes.

“Well, that’s great to hear, Ginny.” Oliver smiled. “When are they waking Ron up?"

"Not for a couple of hours. I’m early!"

“That means I can buy you a fresh cup of coffee,” Oliver offered her his un-bandaged arm. "Shall we?"

“That’d be lovely.” Ginny linked arms with Oliver and smiled up at him warmly as they turned back to the lift.

Ollie grinned back. “So, have you given any more thought to your Quidditch career?”

Ginny shrugged. “A little. But I’m out of practice. I don’t know how good my chances would be.”

“It’s worth a shot. You know you’ve still got three weeks until league tryouts. That’s enough time to pull things together, if you’re training hard.”

“Perhaps...” Ginny looked doubtful.

“My practice schedule’s light with the injury and all. I can help you run drills! From what I hear, you were a bloody fine Chaser. Who knows, maybe Puddlemere will snatch you up.”

“Chudley would be my first pick,” Ginny replied with a smirk, as the elevator descended.

“In that case, don’t practice at all. And you can borrow my grandma’s Comet 180,” Oliver joked.

“You prat!” Ginny giggled.

Oliver grinned, but his eyes were serious. “I think you should give it a try, Ginny. I really do.”

“Ollie, I’m out of shape. I'd never make it-”

“Oh pish! You don’t know that. Show those Gryffindor colors and give it a try... or do you want to give up without a fight?”

“But-”

“We can practice every day, if you want. I’d love to help you train.”

Ginny bit her lip. Her chances were slim to nothing, but playing professional Quidditch was a dream she ’d had since childhood. If Oliver Wood of all people was willing to help, it would be silly to say no.

“You’re serious about helping me to train?” Ginny asked, biting her lip. She thought back to the last game she had seen him play, how breathtakingly quick he was, how nimble and lithe. It would be an honour just to be on the pitch with him.

“Absolutely. I’d love to help.” Oliver replied earnestly.

Ginny shrugged. “Oh, what the hell! I suppose I have nothing to lose.”

“And everything to gain,” Oliver added with a smirk.

“It would be stupid to throw away the opportunity without even trying,” Ginny agreed, laughing despite herself. Professional Quidditch. She had given up on it this past year, what with Ron being so ill, and the time she’d been spending at the hospital.

Oliver was leaning against the opposite wall of the elevator, studying her. Ginny raised her eyebrow quizzically.

"You know, I was thinking. I don’t think I’ve seen you laugh before. Not until this morning."

"I guess there hasn't been a lot to laugh about," Ginny replied.

Oliver's face clouded a bit as they got off the elevator. "No. I suppose not.”

Oliver's mum had at one point occupied the bed next to Ron and, like Ron, she had been the victim of Cruiacius torture - a favourite tactic of the Death Eater's in the last stretches of the war. However, Mrs. Wood’s level of damage had been far worse than Ron’s - there was never even the faintest chance of her waking up. Even Neville’s parents were better off, Ginny reflected sadly. Ginny had seen Oliver and his father spend many a sleepless night in that hospital room, watching helplessly, hopelessly, as Mrs. Wood deteriorated.

She had passed away nearly eight months ago. Oliver had taken an extended leave from Puddlemere while his mother was ill, but he had gone back to Quidditch immediately after the funeral, throwing himself into the sport with a vengeance.

Keepers, especially good Keepers, received almost as many injuries as Seekers, which meant the Weasley's still saw Oliver at St. Mungo’s every week or so. Whenever he was in, he popped by to check on his so-called “second family”. Oliver and his father had also started coming over for Sunday dinners. Ginny had found Oliver a bit cocky and overconfident at first, but as she learned more about him, he slowly became one of her favourite people.

"I'll get this, Gin," Oliver interjected as Ginny ordered her coffee from the grumpy looking witch in the purple robes of the hospital tea shop. "One coffee. And a green tea for me please, with a dash of honey," Oliver added.

Ginny and Oliver got their drinks and sat at a quiet table in the corner in comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching the hustle and bustle of shift-change mediwizards, with shuffling steps and haggard eyes, ordering double-giant coffees in big pea-green mugs that matched their robes.

"So how's Melinda been?" Ginny began.

"It’s Melissa. And I'm not sure how she is - we broke up last week." Oliver sipped his tea casually.

"Oh... Sorry." Ginny bit her lip.

"Not a big deal, Ginny." He shrugged. "Melissa wasn’t the right girl for me. We were only together for what, a month? Not even a month..."

"A whole month is pretty long-term for you... or at least that’s what the experts at Witch Weekly say," Ginny quipped, trying not to smirk.

Oliver put his tea down and shook his head in shock. "I never thought you’d read that nonsense, Weasley."

"Oh, I don’t.” Ginny replied blithely. “The only issue I’ve read is that one that’s been on the table outside the nurses' station for the past month or so,” Ginny raised her eyebrows. “And I must say, Ollie, it’s very revealing!”

“Well, dear Ginny, perhaps you should do more intensive research before jumping to conclusions." Oliver smiled mysteriously, sipping his drink.

“Perhaps...”

"So, has your love life been splattered across the covers of any tabloids lately?"

"Does staying up doing crosswords on Friday nights with Larry, the catatonic guy down the hall from Ron, count as a date? Because if it does, Larry and I are hot and heavy."

Oliver laughed. "I suppose you didn't have time to think of blokes anyways, what with spending all your time here."

Ginny smiled, hoping it looked genuine even though it didn’t feel that way. She had only ever thought of one boy during in her whole eighteen years on this earth. And a year ago, he had broken her heart.

"I've been a busy young lady, and I mean a different kind of busy than you, Ollie. What did that article called you..."Puddlemere's Don Juan?"

"Shhh!" Oliver laughed. "Those papers exaggerate things. Besides, Mrs. Prim-and-Proper, I heard through the grapevine that you dated half your year-"

"Oh, they wouldn't DARE!" Ginny interrupted, shocked. "Where'd you hear such utter tripe?"

"Let’s just say that a couple of little birds told me," Oliver shrugged, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Fred and George!” Ginny muttered. “Oh... oh bollocks! How dare they mar their little sister's spotless reputation!"

“Spotless, huh?” Oliver cocked an eyebrow.

“Well, mostly spotless!” Ginny sputtered, feeling her cheeks go red. Ollie laughed heartily.

“So, this Melinda witch-”

“Melissa.”

“Right. Melissa. Why’d you two break it off?”

“I like someone else, I guess.”

“Oh, isn’t that always the story! Who’s the new girl, then?”

Oliver stirred his tea for a moment, staring into the foggy liquid depths of his cup. “I’m not sure I should tell you…”

“Oh, be a sport, Ollie! Chances are I’m not going to know her anyways, given I’m cooped up in this place all the time.”

“I think you might.”

“It doesn’t matter. C’mon, be a sport!”

Oliver smiled slowly and shrugged. “Well, this girl.. she’s totally amazing. I can’t believe how brilliant and perfect she is. The more time I spend with her, the more certain I become that she’s the girl for me. I just know it, deep inside. She’s one of those people who fills up a room with her presence, you know? I’m so drawn to her, it’s almost a magnetic pull,” Oliver replied, his voice low and serious.

“Wow...”

“And when she smiles... I absolutely lose myself for a second. The craziest, dizziest feeling.”

Ginny stared at Oliver wordlessly. She had never heard him speak so candidly and eloquently about anything before.

Oliver cleared his throat nervously and continued. “On top of it all, she’s absolutely gorgeous. When she walks past, the blokes all turn and stare. The cute thing is that she doesn’t even know it, how incredibly beautiful she is.”

“Well, you... you should tell her,” Ginny sputtered.

Oliver looked up at her, swallowing heavily. “That’s what I’m trying to do right now.”

A strange feeling crept up the back of her neck. She could not have heard him correctly - but she knew she had. But.. but he couldn’t possibly have meant what she thought he meant...

Oliver’s face grew red, and he fidgeted with the collar of his shirt for a moment. Ginny had never seen Oliver lose his composure, not even once, and here he was, right in front of her, blushing bright pink. Her hands fidgeted nervously with her coffee cup. She wanted to make a joke, to lighten everything again, but she couldn’t find her voice.

The awkward silence grew until Oliver finally cleared his throat, and smiled nervously.

"And to think I was doing such a good job keeping everything suave and nonchalant when all I wanted to do all this time was ask you out.” He pulled a hand through his hair awkwardly and sat up straighter.

“So, it’s finally out there, Ginny. Do you maybe want to-”

"I'd love to go out sometime," Ginny blurted, her mind a panicked blur. Where had this come from? Why?

Oliver exhaled loudly, a huge smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Wow. That wasn’t nearly as difficult as I’d always envisioned it to be."

"I don’t know why you thought it would be difficult.” Ginny cocked an eyebrow, hoping her eyes didn’t betray the intense nervousness that was threatening to overtake her. "Technically, Don Juan de Puddlemere, we're on a date right now."

Oliver snorted with laughter and surveyed their surroundings: the long, windowless beige hall smelling of stale gravy and slightly soured milk.

"St. Mungo's is your idea of a date, Ginny?"

"Well, if you think about it. We're spending time here alone together." Ginny slowly relaxed back into humour. She pretended to mark off points on an imaginary checklist. "You asked me to accompany you here, and you bought me coffee like a truly chivalrous gentleman... then you talked about your feelings. All proper dating guidelines seem to have been met."

"Bloody hell, what a shite first date," Oliver buried his head in his hands.

"What are you so worried for, Ollie! I'm having a blast," Ginny giggled. What was the big deal anyhow? She liked Oliver; they got along smashingly. This was a wonderful development, unexpected but wonderful-

And suddenly, Oliver's hand had closed over hers on the table. Her heart jumped back into her throat.

"I've liked you a long time, Weasley. I’m a total prat around you - as you probably noticed."

"I had no clue..." The nervous feeling in Ginny's stomach escalated even more.

“I walked right into your coffee today, you know. There you were, absolutely breathtaking, strolling right towards me, this incredibly vivid smile on your face and I just couldn’t move.”

“Really?”

Oliver nodded. "The first time I ever met you, I thought you were one of the prettiest girls I’d ever seen. And then I got to know you and it only got better." He grinned at her. "I usually don't have all this trouble asking girls out - I usually don’t wait a bloody lifetime before saying something, but you're different, Ginny. All that stuff I said earlier is absolutely true.”

Ginny just stared at him.

Oliver smiled at her and made his own imaginary checklist. “Crazy sense of humour, excellent taste, ravishingly beautiful, loves Quidditch, smart as a whip... I could go on forever, but I’m out of fingers. A couple of weeks ago, I spilled to my dad for probably an hour about how much I liked you, for Merlin’s sake-"

"Thank you so much, Ollie."

"For what?"

Ginny wasn't sure. She felt like a girl again - no, a woman. There was something quiet and warm about Oliver, underneath his boisterous flirtatiousness. There was something in the way he looked at her that made her feel like she might be half as beautiful as he thought she was. She looked down at her coffee shyly.

"Thanks for everything, really."

Oliver squeezed her hand. "So, what are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Something with you." Ginny replied with a shy smile.
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