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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: 117088; Chapter Total: 11488





Author's Notes:
I repeat again what I've been saying about the H/G lovefest which is forthcoming. Just stick with it, guys - I swear it's on it's way/ Or close your eyes and picture Oliver as Sean Biggerstaff (as Cel does) or David Beckham (as Ricky does) or Justin Timberlake or whoever it is that the kids are drooling over these days.

A GIGANTIC thank you to Cel for being such an excellent beta! She rocks!

And also to my good friend Ricky for being so hilarious and telling me to write this thing in the first place. Ricky is the inspiration behind how I characterize Tonks in my writing ie) Happiness - they're both nutcases and just way too much fun.




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Chapter 3: Joy

The room was lit by a single candle. It floated beside one of the beds, casting a warm golden light over the only two occupants of the dormitory, who lay beneath the blanket, their limbs entangled. They had been sleeping at Hogwarts all week — The Burrow was no longer safe.

The young man stared up at the canopy of the girl’s bed sleeplessly, worry creasing his brow.

“I'm starting to get really scared, Gin."

"Starting to?" Ginny sat up against the headboard and looked sleepily at Harry. "You make it sound as though it's been a cakewalk up to this point."

“It has been, compared to what’s coming...”

He was right, of course. They had faced the Death eaters last week — they knew whee the Horcrux was, and it was heavily guarded. But it wasn’t impossible. They were all about to face a battle the likes of which no one had seen.

Harry continued quietly. “Everything we've done this year has this certain weight to it now. I'm carrying so much, we all are. I just don't want to be the one to drop something important."

"The only person you're going to drop is Voldemort." Ginny swallowed the lump in her throat, and tried her best to smile encouragingly. Tomorrow was the big day - they knew they'd catch him unaware — he’d never expect them to attack again so soon, not when losses were so high last time. Voldemort expected them to mourn, to take time to recover.
Ginny’s heart had been pounding all day long. Sleep did seem like a useless pursuit given the circumstances. She sighed. Why were they even pretending to sleep?

Harry reached up and tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. "I love you, Ginny."

"I love you too," Ginny whispered, curling her leg across his hips. She did love him, more than words could even begin to say. Their relationship was a secret, something conducted behind closed doors. Only Ron and Hermione knew what was happening between Ginny and Harry. Of course, Ginny’s parents suspected the break-up after Dumbledore’s death wasn’t permanent, but even they weren’t entirely sure. It was too dangerous.

Ginny sank into his arms and her mouth pulled gently at his lower lip. He sighed, pulling her against him.

“We should kiss each other all night long,” Harry whispered gravely.

“I think so too,” Ginny replied breathily.

“More important than sleep,” Harry whispered.

“Much more,” Ginny moaned as Harry’s mouth travelled voraciously across her neck. “But I think we should do other things besides kiss...”

Harry froze. “You mean...”

Ginny ran her hand down Harry's chest. "Yeah, I do.”

“Are you sure, Ginny? You’ve always said you wanted to wait -”

“We could both die tomorrow. Please, let's not wait anymore."

Her mouth pressed against his insistently, her lips stifling the moans that escaped his mouth when she touched him.
Soon, they were skin against skin, their bodies tangled in the clean white sheets.

"Ginny, when this is over I promise you we'll be together forever," Harry breathed. "I promise I'll never leave you."

"Forever," Ginny breathed, inhaling his earthy clean smell. "I can't wait."

***

The sound of a bell filled the quiet room and Harry was gone. Someone, someone who felt nothing like Harry, was reaching across Ginny's naked body to shut the alarm charm off.

"Good morning, baby." Ginny’s husband kissed her cheek.

Ginny rubbed at her eyes grumpily, and buried her face back in the pillow. "Just ten more minutes, mmmkay?"

"No time to sleep in, doll," he slowly kissed his way down her arm. "The match, remember?"

"Oh hell," Ginny sat up and yawned, looking at the clock. “I’ve got that interview with the Prophet before warm-up. I’m going to be so late.”

"I'll go make us some nosh, then... unless you want to practice some of your broom handling techniques," Oliver nuzzled closer, raising an eyebrow hopefully.

Ginny giggled and pushed him away. She couldn't - not after that dream. She knew it was only a memory, a shadow, but somehow Ginny still felt like she was being unfaithful. The guilt badgered her constantly. She tried to push it aside, smiling at Oliver.

"And give away all my secrets?" She kissed his forehead and got out of bed. "Besides, you'll see all my techniques up close and personal later today when I send that quaffle flying past your silly little head!"

"All your techniques, love?! During the game?! But won't it feel weird with everyone watching?" Oliver joked, as he got up and pulled on his robe.

"Is that really all you think about?" Ginny rolled her eyes.

"How can you blame me for being randy when I wake up beside my wife, and she's touching me with those incredible hands, some silly smile on her face," Oliver said, wrapping his arms around Ginny. "Having a nice dream, were you?"

"I don't remember," Ginny said, her face turning pink.

"Sure, you do," Oliver crooned, wrapping his arms around his wife and pulling her towards him. "And you're incredibly sexy when you blush. You know I love making you blush, the way you blush absolutely everywhere-"

"Honestly, Ollie, just look at the time. I've got twenty minutes until I'm supposed to be at warm-up!"

"Fine, fine," Oliver sighed, reluctantly releasing his wife, who dashed towards the bathroom. "I've got a few more minutes than you do - I'll get a quick bite ready."

"Thanks, love," Ginny yelled, over the sound of the running water, as she tried to wash the feeling of another man's body from her memory.

****

The reporter was a tall blonde Hufflepuff who had been two years ahead of Ginny at Hogwarts - she remembered the girl having a crush on George. She was happy to note the absence of a quick-quotes quill.

Transcript of interview with Ms. Ginervra Weasley, Chaser for Chudley Cannons, 18 May 2001

Why did you choose this career path?

I’ve been playing quidditch ever since I was a little girl - I guess my older brothers’ enthusiasm rubbed off on me. It's very challenging and as just as thrilling as it looks. I feel incredibly lucky to be able to do this full-time.

What's it like playing against your husband, Mrs. Wood?

That's Ms. Weasley, actually - I kept my name. And to answer your question, games against Puddlemere are exactly like any other games; Oliver is just any other Keeper, albeit an especially capable one. My focus remains firmly on the game, and on the goals of my team.

You don't think he's easier on you?
Uh... What do you mean?

Do you think he's ever given you an opportunity to score?

Absolutely not. Oliver is very dedicated to his job; he loves his team like family, and I know he wouldn't forsake them simply to make me feel good about myself.

You answered that question without any hesitation? How can you be so sure?

I've scored against Oliver in lots of games this season, and I know his keeping techniques inside out. I haven’t noticed him deviating from his usual patterns simply because I happen to be in possession of the quaffle.

He has patterns?

All Keepers do. Part of being a chaser is being able to identify those patterns and circumvent them.

So what's Mr. Wood like off the quidditch pitch?

He's hilarious. He definitely keeps me laughing. And to top it off, he's a fantastic cook - I'm a very lucky girl.

You certainly are. What are your future plans as Mr. and Mrs. Wood?

That's Mr. Wood and Ms. Weasley, remember. And our future together... well, that's a hard question. Oliver and I take things one day at a time; we both lived through a war, and that’s changed the way we look at life. We've recently purchased a lovely little home, and I know we'd like to have a family someday. We were just in Belize on our honeymoon, and I do think we'll look for opportunities to travel more in the off-season.


A whistle sounded in the distance.

"I'm leading warm-ups. Sorry to cut your interview short." Ginny smiled at the girl warmly.

"No problem. Thanks for your time." The reporter muttered the countercharm to her recording quill. "What would be a good time to reach your husband? I’d like to get a few quotes from him to round things out."

"You'll have to talk to his agent to schedule something, I'm afraid' Ginny replied over her shoulder, trying not to roll her eyes as the young witch's face fell. She was getting a little tired of being used by the wizarding media as a door to Oliver. Despite their marriage four months ago, Oliver was as much a sex symbol as ever. Ginny knew that without Oliver’s quotes, the interview she’d just given likely wouldn't be used anywhere.

Ginny tied her hair back into a tight bun and led the team on a few invigorating high speed loops around their home field. They split into groups to practice diving and catching drills. The Cannons had five-to-one odds against Puddlemere, but the team was at its’ peak. Ginny felt the familiar adrenaline begin to pump through her veins - she loved the swell of nervous excitement before a game. She looped around the pitch again and dived, doing a quick barrel roll, and suddenly her breakfast rose in her throat. She raced her broom to the edge of the field and dismounted before vomiting her breakfast all over the grass.

"Weasley, you okay?"

Ginny turned around to face her coach, and grinned apologetically, her face reddening with embarassment. "Too much at breakfast, I guess." She muttered a cleaning charm and mounted her broom again. "I'll be fine."

"Watson's already at the Puddlemere infirmary. You go on ahead and see him." Watson was the team medic. He'd already mended a few of Ginny's broken bones during her season with the Cannons.

"Honestly Coach, I don't need a mediwizard-"

"It's policy, Weasley," Coach Richards barked. "You're sick, you talk to Watson." The Coach’s voice softened a bit. "If it's just a wonky breakfast, he'll clear you quickly and you’ll be ready to go by the time we get there. We can't afford to be out our best Chaser versus Puddlemere."

"Alright," Ginny sighed, getting off her broom. "I'll catch up with you at Puddlemere, then."

The Puddlemere stadium was just beginning to fill with the first eager fans as Ginny Apparated at the VIP entrance. She walked down the long concrete hallway under the bleachers towards the Cannon’s dressing room, but Watson the medic was nowhere to be found. Ginny sat down on a bench to wait, frustrated at missing her warm-up.

Watson didn't reappear until the rest of her team had arrived and begun to change into their game robes. Five minutes before the game, he walked in, smiling nonchalantly at Coach.

"Bloody hell, man. Clear Weasley and quick. We need her in,” the Coach barked.

Watson raised his eyebrow, and pulled Ginny around the corner into the little infirmary.

"What's going on, Weasley? Sprain that left wrist again?"

"No, I threw up at warm-up. I ate breakfast too quickly, I think," Ginny said hurriedly, eyeing the clock on the wall. Four minutes to game time.

"I see... No queasiness now?"

"Nope - I feel just fine."

"Have you been experiencing any other nausea lately?"

"No. Wait - that’s not true... I threw up a few days ago. Once at lunch and then again a few hours later — I probably ate something that disagreed with me."

“Any cramps? Back pain?”

“Nope.”

"Okay. I’m sure it’s nothing. But I do need to run a couple of charms."

Ginny sighed, closing her eyes. This was good, actually, this small opportunity for peace and quiet before a big game. Time to mentally focus, to envision throwing that quaffle past Oliver. Right through the left ring - it was a small but consistent weakness of his-

"Well, you certainly won't be playing today," Watson said, humour tinging his voice.

"Bollocks! I feel just fine!” Ginny could not believe what she was hearing.

"Do you want the good news or not?"

"Oh, sod it all. My brother and Hermione are here today,” Ginny grumbled. “You can’t give me an anti-nausea charm or
something?”

Watson paused, the smile still on his face. "No, I can’t do anything about this particular problem. You're pregnant, Weasley."

Ginny snickered, standing up and pulling on her chaser’s gloves. "Oh, enough with the jokes, Watson. I have 2 minutes-"

"You’re pregnant. I wouldn't joke.”

Ginny simply stared at Watson.

“I did the maternity charm twice - there’s no doubt. Congratulations."

"Bloody hell," Ginny sank back down onto the infirmary bed.

Watson conjured her a glass of water. "You want me to do it again? So you can see the blue light?"

"No... I... It's okay."

Pregnant. They'd only been married for 4 months; and as far as Ginny could recall they'd only forgotten the contraceptive spell once. Apparently, once was all it took when your last name was Weasley.

"Tell Coach I have to go!" Ginny was out the door as fast as her legs would carry her.

"Tell me what?" her coach yelled after her. “Get back here, Weasley!”

Ginny ignored him, her feet pounding the pavement as she ran through the passage beneath the stadium towards the Puddlemere dressing room. Towards Oliver. She heard the crowd roar as Dave Adams flew out onto the pitch. Thank Merlin that W was at the end of the alphabet.

Oliver was silhouetted in the doorway, ready to mount his Cleansweep, when Ginny rounded the corner, completely
breathless, hot tears running down her cheeks.

Oliver's eyes widened in shock. "Gin, what the hell are you doing here? Shouldn't you be-"

The rest of his words were stifled by a very passionate kiss from his normally semi-inhibited wife. The reserve team,
waiting in the wings behind Oliver, hooted and hollered.

Oliver grinned at her, one eyebrow raised. "That was bloody brilliant, but why aren't you with your team?"

"I can't play the rest of the season. Medical slip.”

Oliver looked concerned. "I thought your wrist was healed-”

The deafening screams of the Puddlemere fans had been building. They knew the annoucement that was coming: "AND LAST BUT CERTAINLY NOT LEAST, THE LEAGUE'S MOST OUTSTANDING KEEPER, AND THREE-TIME LEAGUE MVP, OOOOOOLIVER WOOD!

"You're going to be a daddy!" Ginny screamed over the din of the crowd.

"You're going batty? What are you talking about, Gin?" Oliver stared at her in total confusion, swinging his leg back over his broom. "I've gotta get out there. We’ll talk later."

"Wait, silly!" Ginny grabbed the tail of Oliver's broom and yelled again. "I’m pregnant. You're going to be a daddy."

"What?" Oliver's face registered absolutely no expression. "This isn't a joke, is it?"

"Uh... I'm afraid not," Ginny’s heart was pounding. She swore she could hear it, even over the insanity of the hometown crowd.

"I... bloody hell,” Oliver rubbed his hands across his face. “I don't know what I'm supposed to say."

"OUR CAPTAIN MUST BE HAVING STAGE FRIGHT! PUDDLEMERE, YOU'VE GOT TO CHEER LOUDER THAN THAT IF YOU WANT WOOD."

The crowd screamed deafeningly, but neither Ginny nor Oliver seemed to notice. Ginny was staring at Oliver, who in turn was staring very hard at his broom handle, his face unreadable.

"So I take it you're not happy about this..." Ginny began, her voice shaky.

"Happy?" Oliver's broom clattered to the ground as he jumped off. As sudden as a bludger, he was hugging her, spinning her around in his arms. "Ginny, I'm so happy I can't even find the proper bloody words."

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Ginny realized she was crying. "Me too."

The crowd was chanting now, the echo of thousands of feet stomping the wooden stands. "WE WANT WOOD! WE WANT WOOD!"

"You and this baby are the best things that have ever happened to me," Oliver had to scream to be heard. His eyes were bright with excitement, the beginnings of tears.

“Wood! Stop making out with your wife and get out there!” someone yelled. Everyone laughed.

"Get your cute butt on that broom, daddy," Ginny hollered over the din. "We'll see you after the game."

The grin on Oliver's face was giddy as he climbed back onto his broom, still squeezing her hand.

"I love you so much, Ginny," he mouthed, his face suddenly becoming more serious than Ginny had ever seen it, even on their wedding day. Ginny wished she could hear his voice, but everything was just too loud.

"I love you too..."

Oliver let go of her hand as he kicked off and rocketed into the stadium, turning around to blow her a kiss, his dirty blonde hair rippling in the breeze. The crowd went so crazy Ginny actually had to press her hands against her ears.

Everyone loved Oliver Wood.
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