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SIYE Time:17:10 on 28th March 2024
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Emerald Of My Eyes
By sapphire200182

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Category: Post-HBP, Post-Hogwarts
Characters:All
Genres: Romance, Tragedy
Warnings: Sexual Situations
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 59
Summary: *March DSTA Romance nominee*It is said in the Wizarding World that witches who wish at midnight on Valentine's Day will have their wishes granted. But is love a little bit too late for a certain female Weasley, burdened by the physical and emotional scars that remain from her experiences during the war?
Hitcount: Story Total: 25801; Chapter Total: 5355





Author's Notes:
Thanks to my excellent reviewer GINNY__POTTER258, who is as mad as I am. To all out there who left a review, a rating, a DSTA nomination or all 3, thanks all!

This is the penultimate chapter. P.S. This fanfiction is dedicated to every single blind or otherwise disabled person in the whole wide world. Be courageous, and realise you're not alone.




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ACT 4: Darkest Night


“Hello, Ginny.”

Hi Ginny.

Good morning, Ginny.

Gin…I love you.

AAAAAAAAAARGHH…GINNNNYYYY!

Run, Gin! I’ll hold him off…UNGH…!


For an instant Ginny felt a weakness strike her knees; she remembered that voice all too well. It had invaded her dreams for the best part of seven years, and in her dreams sometimes her name was on his lips…sometimes a sweet, loving word whispered in her ear…sometimes in a prolonged scream under the Cruciatus, or choked off suddenly by a flash of green spell-light and a high-pitched cackle…

She forced herself to retain some semblance of control over her mind and body.

“Harry?” she said, dreading the answer.

“It’s me, Ginny.”

Ginny cursed the blindness. She cursed the Merlin-damned darkness that had invaded her life. She cursed that damned Dark Wizard who still left his damnable mark on this earth even after his damnable death…

“Gin? Are you okay?”

Gin. He’d called her by his pet name for her. He hadn’t done so for a year and four months…hadn’t spoken to her for a year and four months…hadn’t stepped foot out of Grimmauld Place for a year and four months…and now, a year and four months after the battle…two years and eight months after breaking up with her…after abandoning her in her time of need to wallow in his own damnable self-pity…he dared call her ‘Gin’?

Her right arm swung back. Months of depending on her ears to ‘see’ what was around her had sharpened her senses; when her arm swung forward with every ounce of indignation she could muster, the palm of her hand landed — with a strangely satisfying crack - home on Harry’s cheek.

She could hear him stumble in shock. Before he regained his senses or tried to come after her, Ginny was already hurrying up the stairs and into her room, tears brimming and threatening to spill over her defenses…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Ginny — huddled and with her hands clasped around her knees — sat on the bed. A blanket was draped around her shoulders and pulled up to her chin. Her fingers played with her wand, fingering the tip idly.

Why had he come back?

The last Ginny had heard of Harry Potter was that he was holed up in Grimmauld Place, doors locked, fireplace disconnected from the Floo network, and house warded so heavily that even the owls were having difficulty finding the place. Ginny knew he’d been through hell for practically his entire life, and had given him a wide berth. But the months had passed, with no word at all from Harry, and there was a limit to everybody’s patience.

True enough, Harry had suffered badly in the final battle…during his brief spell in St. Mungo’s he had cried out the names of dead or wounded classmates and Order of the Phoenix members in his sleep. But so had everyone else, frankly, and if there was one thing the wizarding world did not need, it was a bitter Boy-Who-Lived who kept himself locked up doing who knows what in 12 Grimmauld Place.

And as the Chosen One slipped further and further into obscurity, Ginny reflected on Dumbledore’s wise words: “It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.”

Dumbledore had told her that just after the Chamber of Secrets incident. And the funny part of that saying was that those words had a big part in getting Ginny to come out of the shell she had built around her at Hogwarts, and contributed a lot to her increasing popularity in 2nd year.

And it had helped her get over her shyness when Harry was around.

Harry had mentioned before that this little proverb had been one of his favourite ‘Dumbledorisms’. But it appeared that he had seemed to have very much forgotten that.

He had broken off their relationship two years and eight months ago…and she had agreed, for she knew that when his work was done he would be back. She had been confident she would be able to control her feelings. But as the months progressed, she found herself in holed up in her bedroom constantly, and when she was not studying she gripped the only memento he had given her just before he left.

Throwing the blanket off and swiftly crossing to her drawer, Ginny tapped it with her wand and pulled out said memento. It was much wrinkled from constant reading, and only a charm prevented it from falling apart at the seams and creases. A single tap of her wand turned the roll of parchment into Braille dots.

Dear Gin,

Ron, Hermione and I are leaving shortly to find and destroy four magical items that will ensure that Voldemort will be mortal when I duel him finally. I don’t know whether I’ll succeed, or whether I’ll even return. Just in case, my will is already registered with the goblins. I am leaving one thousand Galleons and Headquarters to Lupin and Tonks, wishing them a happy marriage.

I leave five hundred Galleons to each member of the Weasley family, and four hundred and fifty Galleons each to Fred and George, as they already have too much for their own good. Remind them that they got their share when I was in fourth year. To Ron or Hermione, when they return, I leave one thousand Galleons and my best wishes for their marriage too.

I’m sorry, Gin, but I had to get that over with. There’s too much risk where I’m going not to write down my wishes on this parchment sheet. Forgive me.

My quill pauses over the parchment, as I watch Ron and Hermione talking quietly over dinner. It’ll please you to know that they’re finally together. Tell Fred he won the pool; they got together in less than a week.

Gin…I don’t know how to say this. Every day I remember all the times we sat by the Great Lake…you and I and a couple of bacon sandwiches…our first date…or just those times when we sat next to each other and just talked, or did our homework…now I find myself searching for someone to talk to, and I look for you and find you’re not there.

Ginny, I’ll have to kill Voldemort. When I have to, I’ll bring you with me. I promise you that. But if he attacks me, Apparate away immediately. Don’t wait. And Ginny…when I come back…please promise me you won’t abandon me…


She couldn’t read any more. Abandon him? Abandon him? He was the one who had abandoned her. Ginny fisted the parchment sheet in her hand, then unclenched her fist. The preservation charm smoothed out the crinkles immediately.

“Ginny?” His infernal voice came from the locked bedroom door. “Ginny, please, listen to me…”

“What do you want?” she yelled, scrambling off the bed and standing in front of the bedroom door. “You left me alone for almost three years! You deserted me just when I needed you most!” she screamed, feeling that she would almost break to pieces with sorrow and anger.

“Ginny, I…”

“What’s the matter?” she taunted maliciously, still shouting at the top of her voice. “Got a problem with my blindness? Maybe you like a girl who can see you and hero-worship you! Go on, shack up with Cho bloody Chang then, and leave me the bloody hell alone!”

“Ginny, please. Listen to me. I just want to…”

“Sod off, Potter.”

Very quietly, even as Ginny climbed back into bed and turned her back defiantly to the door, she heard him say, “I won’t leave till you hear my say.”

“You can’t do that, Potter,” came Ron’s voice through the door. “Get out of the Burrow.”

“Ron!”

“You’ve no right to just barge in here, Potter,” said Ron angrily.

Ginny listened with growing annoyance to the heated exchange outside.

“Ginny doesn’t want to see you!”

“That’s for her to decide!”

“You heard her; she wants you to sod off! So get the bloody hell out of here!”

Ginny knew he wouldn’t leave until she came out to face him. He was stubborn enough. And part of her wanted to know his sorry excuses for having stayed locked up in Grimmauld Place for a year and a half. But to let him explain himself…

So Ginny, like a typical Gringotts accountant, tried to balance the two opposing arguments. Tried to reason it out in her head.

I want to hear him out so I know at least what he’s been doing these past few months. He seems to think he has a valid excuse. If it’s a bad reason, I’ll simply send him on his way, clean and simple. If it’s a good reason…err…

You love him, said a snide voice. You always have…even though you’ve never admitted it.

I do not, thought Ginny furiously. I only want to hear what he has to say for himself.

And if he has a valid excuse? What are you going to do? Welcome him back into your life, like he obviously wants you to? rejoined the snide voice.

Ginny stopped. “Well, perhaps…” she muttered, before realizing that she was speaking out loud.

See what I mean? You love him.

I don’t, she thought firmly. I don’t. I don’t I don’t I don’t I don’t…

So why meet him? Send him on his way with a dressing-down, why don’t you? I know why not, girl…you love him, that’s why. You love him because he is what completes you and makes you whole. These past months, you’ve been drowning your sorrows in work. Hermione was right; you need something to remind you that you’re Ginny Weasley, 18.

And that something is Harry.

Torn between the two conflicting sides of the coin, and irritated by the increasingly loud argument just outside her bedroom door, Ginny decided to settle the argument by the oldest ways known to man. From her pocket, she extracted a thin sliver of metal. Balancing the metal precariously on her thumb, she flicked upwards, the bit of metal flipping through the air to fall on her outstretched palm…

…and her finger, tracing over the face of the coin, felt the distinct contours of a sickle.

“Ah, well, heads it is,” she muttered, pocketing the Sickle.

Marching over to the bedroom door, she paused for a moment in front of it. Then, taking a deep breath, she felt for the handle and twisted it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


The shouting was cut off abruptly as she stepped out onto the landing. Ginny could somehow sense them looking at her…the Golden Trio, now divided against each other…

“Alright, Harry,” she said, struggling to prevent her voice from breaking, “I’ll hear your say. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t hex you out of the house right now.”

“Ginny…” began Ron.

“Shut it, Ronald!” she hissed. “This is between Harry and I, so would you please leave us alone?”

“Come on, Ron, let’s go back to the cottage, I want to see how the poor dears are doing, come on…” whispered Hermione.

“But ‘Mione…”

“Move!”

Amid disgruntled grumbles, Ginny listened as Hermione escorted Ron back down the stairs. Then she turned to face Harry expectantly…she could hear his feet shuffling in the dark…

“Come in,” she said.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


When both were safely ensconced in Ginny’s room - with heavy privacy charms and all sorts of Imperturbable and Silencing Charms on the doors and windows - Ginny turned to Harry, who leaned uncomfortably against a wall.

“Well?” she said testily.

“Ginny…I know it was a mistake, locking myself in Grimmauld Place,” said Harry. She heard a rustle that sounded like him running a hand through his messy hair, which she knew he only did when he was nervous.

“Too bloody right,” she said bitterly.

“But I had things I needed to do…things I wasn’t going to let anyone know about, in case I failed. I didn’t want to make everyone hope for too much. This Chosen One thing…they’d expect me to be able to do anything…and I can’t…”

“What are you talking about?” said Ginny. “You abandoned me, Harry. You promised me, at the funeral, that it would be until the Horcruxes were destroyed…yes, I squeezed it out of Ron and Hermione…and I let you go.” Her voice rose just a little. “Do you know what it took to let you go off hunting Dark artifacts guarded by vicious Death Eaters, never knowing if you would ever come back?”

“I’m sorry, Ginny…” he said.

“I only got to see you once, and that was when we were fighting Voldemort. And then the war was over, and I was waiting for you, and here Hermione comes to tell me you’ve locked yourself up and won’t speak to anyone…just when I was expecting you to come help me through my troubles…but instead the Chosen One ran away because he didn’t think he felt himself able to help me…”

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

And Ginny knew it was true. He was sorry, so very very sorry that he had made the mistakes he had made…and part of her wanted to forgive him just like that, and hold him…but then he deserved much worse…could she find it in her heart though to punish him by sending him away, never to see her again? No…because it would be punishing herself too…

“What were you doing in Grimmauld Place anyway?” she asked.

“I was researching. Doing things.”

Ginny sensed a Quaffle trying to evade her. “Really? What things?”

“I…I…” Harry shifted his feet nervously.

“Harry…” began Ginny warningly.

“Ginny,” he said, and there was a different tone in his voice. “Ginny…answer my question first. if I hadn’t gone away…would you still have loved me?”

Ginny would have fallen over if she hadn’t been leaning on her walking-stick…what…did he really say that…would she still have loved him…probably, yes, she was just smothering her feelings…but no, she couldn’t, she’d gotten over him…had she?

“I…w-well…” she stammered.

Ginny felt a hand on her shoulder…a hand on both shoulders…and could picture him standing in front of him, his green eyes intense…how she longed for those green eyes to fill her vision again…

“I need to know, Ginny…I need to know or I won’t be able to sleep…would you still have loved me, Ginny? Because I…I know I love you,” finished Harry.

He loved her! He did? Then why did he leave her to fend for herself for so long?

“I…I would have loved you, Harry,” said Ginny, turning away to hide the hot flush creeping up her neck. “But my question is, would you have let me love you?”

“You know the answer to that, Gin,” said Harry.

“Then why fritter away this time when we could have been together, wasting your time cooped up at Grimmauld Place doing Merlin knows what!” she blazed angrily, turning around to face him.

Harry sighed. “I was trying to find a cure for the blindness. Don’t get me wrong, Gin,” he said, as she opened her mouth to speak. “I love you however you are.”

He loved her! He’d shut himself up for her! Misguided, perhaps, but he meant well! Finding a cure for her eyesight…which Ginny knew still bugged her considerably.

But did he know the internal turmoil which she had been plunged into by the curse? No matter her emotional resilience and outward calm, the blindness had made sheer hell of her life and just when she was trapped in one of those rare times when she needed reassurance and help from him…he had up and left without saying a word…

“I…I just thought that if I failed, it would be better if you didn’t get your hopes up too…”

Ginny cut him off with a brutal stab of her finger into his chest. She felt his flesh wince beneath her onslaught. “Never,” she said, stabbing him again, “ever…ever…” her finger digging deep with every word, “…ever assume that I don’t need to know what you’re trying to do. I am not a weak, simple-minded girl who would burst spontaneously into tears at the slightest tragedy…”

“I was worried for you, Ginny, I…”

“So, by being worried for me, you wasted one and a half years which would have otherwise been better employed loving me!”

He didn’t try to fight back. He sagged against the wall - she could hear the impact of his body against the whitewashed plaster - and sighed heavily.

She reached out a hand and touched his cheek, felt the moistness. “You noble Gryffindor prat. But I wouldn’t love you if you weren’t…”

She felt a soft tear trickle down her own cheek. A wave of suppressed emotion crashed over her like a tidal wave, breaking through the frigid barriers she had put up to protect herself from the pain Harry had caused by abandoning her…barriers she knew she needed no longer.

“I’m sorry, Ginny…I’m so, so sorry…” Harry gripped her shoulders. “I’m going, Ginny. Take care.”

She clutched at his arm. “No…wait! Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. I think I’ll move to France. Maybe I might work with the Ministry’s new Department of International Magical Affairs…or be an Auror, now Scrimgeour’s kicked out…I could play professional Quidditch too, though…I have a few options available.”

“Don’t go anywhere, Harry!” she said, gripping his forearm. She felt the sinewy flesh beneath, and the solid hardness of bone, and she realized he was rather thin. Perhaps he hadn’t been eating right at Grimmauld Place. “Please…I want you to be around…”

“Why? I don’t think your family likes me very much now, and frankly I don’t blame them.”

Ginny was almost panicking. She didn’t want him to leave…didn’t want to experience the agony of separation from the one she loved…

Loved? Loved. Yes. She loved him, and it was true. In that moment, the last of her defenses went down into the dust, and an onrushing surge of love and affection for Harry swept over her…

“Harry! Don’t go away!” she cried out. She had to make him understand, had to! “I…I love you, Harry! Don’t leave me again!”

Silence. Ginny could hear his heavy breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

“You…but…I…”

“Don’t leave me ever again, Harry,” she said quietly. “I couldn’t bear it…and I know you can’t, either. I can feel that.”

Something touched her shoulders. It was his limp fingers. Ginny leaned in, put her arms around him, and laid her head on his chest. “Don’t go,” she whispered.

His arms went around her, slowly finding their old, familiar positions, and Ginny felt their reassuring solidity enfold her.

There was no question now whether he loved him or she loved him. They knew. They felt each other’s love for the other, and rejoiced in it without the need for verbal acknowledgement.

“I missed you so much while you were gone…” she whispered against the front of his jacket.

“And I missed you…and I only have myself to blame for it…” he said bitterly. “I was wallowing in my own self-pity. I was so torn up about all of you…I just hid away in the past, ignoring my future…” sighed Harry. “What a bloody waste.”

“At least you’ve got something to show,” said Ginny. “I have nothing. Nothing but a lousy resume working valuation counters for Gringotts.”

“I have nothing, Gin,” said Harry, and there was a brittle sorrow in his voice. “I have nothing. One and a half years of endless study, and I don’t have a thing!”

“Why…?”

“The spell won’t work. I’ve tried it on all sorts of blind witches and wizards…trawled Knockturn Alley in disguise just to find another wizard who’ll be willing to try out the spell…checked and double-checked the calculations…and it just doesn’t work!”

So he hadn’t found it after all…yet. Ginny was frustrated, absolutely frustrated. To have come so close, and yet so far… But she tried to be strong, because Harry would only rip himself up some more if he knew how disappointed she was.

“Never mind,” she said bracingly. “It’s a whole new world, when you’re like me. You hear better, you feel better…and you really get an appreciation for life. It’s great…I mean it’s fine…pretty much…”

Her voice trailed off. In the silence that followed Ginny knew she had been babbling.

“I’m sorry, Ginny,” said Harry again. “I…I just…”

They stood there for a while, leaning against the wall. Somehow, Ginny didn’t feel uncomfortable at all; on the contrary she felt warmer and safer than she had ever been for ages…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


She stood on the shore of the Great Lake, two pieces of toast in her hands. She flung one out as far as she could, watching its parabolic flight over the ripples, then the Giant Squid raised a tentacle to catch the bit of bread and pull it under the waves to his maw, waving another tentacle at Ginny reproachfully.

“Sorry,” mumbled Ginny. The second piece of toast struck the water just above the Giant Squid’s head, and the dear creature raised his head to engulf the bread.

A long, wet tentacle snaked its way into the shallow water near the shore, and Ginny bent down and tickled it. It undulated with pleasure.

Footsteps crunched in the gravel behind her. Instinctively, Ginny whipped out her wand, twisting round and dropping to one knee to minimise her profile.

“Easy, easy, it’s me, Gin…ny,” came a familiar voice. Seconds later, a crown of tousled hair appeared out of some bushes, and Harry Potter stepped out of the vegetation.

“Oh, sorry, Harry,” Ginny said, quickly turning around to hide the flush on her cheeks. She pocketed her wand.

Harry walked to the edge of the lake. Crouching, he grasped one of the Squid’s tentacles and patted it. The wet appendage twitched happily.

Sighing, Harry stood up. They stood that way for a moment, unsure of what to say. Ginny found herself holding her breath, and had to consciously regulate herself to breathe deeply and evenly.

Presently, Harry said, “It’s our last day here, Ginny.”

Ginny nodded. “Yeah,” she said, throat dry. It was the day immediately after Dumbledore’s funeral. For her, it meant the end of her fifth year, the end of Hogwarts, the end of normal life, the beginning of a dark age, the end of which no-one really knew. For Harry, Ron, and Hermione, it marked the end of one phase, and the beginning of another…the beginning of their adulthood, for all intents and purposes.

“It’s quite good weather” said Harry.

“Ummm…” she said.

“Excellent for Quidditch.”

“Yes.” Ginny picked up a flat piece of flint, sent it skimming across the waters. Once…twice…thrice…then it sank out of sight. “I know Ron would want to go flying, but he’s entertaining Hermione.”

“Uhuh. Good for them.”

“Yeah…er…good for them,” she said. Why was their conversation so…stilted? Stiff? She knew why. They’d just broken up…but this conversation was worse than the disjointed dialogues back in first-year…this was positively depressing. What had happened?

For a fleeting moment, Ginny thought that perhaps he didn’t love her anymore. Was that the real reason behind their break-up yesterday?Bloody hell…

The thought so distressed her that the next bit of stone slammed into the water with much harder force than she had expected…certainly much more force than was required to skip stones…a three-foot high geyser of water sprouted over the ripples and waves. An instant later, Ginny regretted doing that.

Harry couldn’t have missed that. And now he would fuss over her, ask her what was wrong, and protect her, shield her, smother her even more than he was already doing…

So it was that when Harry turned to her, Ginny was already approaching the boiling point. Yesterday’s breakup had brought matters to a head, and she was emotionally drained from the funeral and everything…

“Ginny,” began Harry. “Are you okay?”

“Fine!” she said quickly. “I’m just…dandy!” She tried to skip another stone into the water, but flung it with such vehemence that the stone nearly struck the Giant Squid’s hea. As it was, it was a close-run thing and the Squid glared at Ginny reproachfully.

“Ginny,” he said again. “Come here…” and he held out a hand.

“I’m not going to be patronised, Potter,” she said.

It was a moment before she realized that she had said that aloud.

“I won’t patronise you, Ginny. You know I won’t.”

She regarded him for a moment, before taking his hand. Harry pulled her close, and his warm arms enfolded her…perhaps for the last time.

“Harry,” she said, holding back for a moment, “we’re not supposed to…”

“It’s just Hogwarts. And…and I can’t stand not holding you for one last day.”

For a moment, a malicious Ginny considered reminding him that they were broken up. That he had pushed her away. Then she shoved Malicious Ginny to the furthest recesses of her mind, leaving only a bitter memory to shame her. How could she even think of doing such a thing to Harry…

She rested her head on his chest, feeling the throbbing of his heartbeat. As one they sank onto the grass.

They sat that way for a long time. Tea-time came and went - neither of them were very hungry anyway - and still they stayed that way, leaning against the beech tree that stood tall and leafy next to them. Ginny fell asleep for about an hour, waking up only to shift positions and avoid cramp.

There was no need for talk. There was no need for anything. There was merely need to exist, to be there for one another, to reassure one that the other was there - forever and always - as a source of comfort…and to be reassured in turn.

Somewhere, the Hogsmeade clock tower chimed five o’ clock. They had lain there in the grass for two hours. It was time to assemble in the Great Hall and depart for the Hogsmeade train station. Time for Harry to go. To fulfil his destiny.

Ginny got up, never taking her eyes off his. “Harry…”

He didn’t look up, didn’t meet her stare.

“Harry…”

“Ginny,” he said, turning his head finally to gaze into her eyes. She could see that he was steeling himself for something. “Ginny, promise me…promise me that when I’m done with him…you’ll still be here…?”

“Wha…”

“I couldn’t bear to come back and…and find out you’re not around…” he said. “I couldn’t bear…for me to ring the bell at the Burrow…and see your mum coming to open the door…and tell me that you…that you’re…”

Ah. She understood. Harry had seen too many of his loved ones die…and she knew he couldn’t bear for another loss. Not one as dear to him as she was.

She smiled at him, through her tears. “I’ll still be here, Harry. You promise me you won’t get into too much trouble while you’re gone.”

“I won’t, Gin,” he said. “I’ll come back for you. I promise.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


A nd in that moment, as Ginny remembered that vow they’d made to each other - the vow that they’d kept, after all - she realized that it didn’t matter if she was blind…it didn’t matter if he had left her in the lurch for a year and a half…all that mattered was that they were together now, and all the force in the universe wouldn’t come between them now.

“Ginny,” said Harry, startling her out of her ruminations. “I’ve been thinking it over. If you don’t mind…do you think I could try the spell one more time?”

Hope flared for a moment, then Ginny beat it down desperately. It wouldn’t do to get disappointed again.

“I don’t see why not, Harry…but who are you going to try it on?” she asked cautiously.

“Do you think you would mind?”

For a moment, Ginny was perplexed…then she realized what he was talking about.

“Well…yes. Yes, I’ll do it,” she said. Why not? Until now, Ginny had always taken pride in the fact that she was independent. That she was capable of handling her emotions and physical needs herself, not requiring help from anybody even in her blind condition. The ‘Its’ she had dismissed as momentary lapses of her self-control, never acknowledging that perhaps they were the symptoms of wounds that ran deep and would not heal.

But those psychological wounds were healed now. Harry had seen to that.

“Make a wish, Ginny. You know the tale,” said Harry. She could almost hear the grin in his voice.

Ginny smiled sadly. “Fiddlesticks,” she said. “Let’s see this spell of yours.”

Harry drew her to him. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.

“Yes. Come on.”

“All right. I love you.”

Ginny closed her eyes. In spite of what she had told Tonks and Harry, she thought of Valentine’s Day and the magical significance it carried in the wizarding world. She knew many breweries laid in the beginnnings of Veritaserum, Acromantula antidotes and various love potions on this day because it was thought that the potions would be more effective…

She smiled mirthlessly, and recited the poem in her head.

At midnight sharp on Valentine’s Day…

She could hear Harry muttering beneath his breath. She could only make out ‘something…something…occulus…something…. ’

…when darkest night turns bright and gay…

She heard the swish and flick of his wand as it cut through the air in front of her.

…you may be sure…

Harry’s wand sung as it whipped through the air.

… your love is pure…

Harry had spent months on this, thought Ginny. He mustn’t fail, not just for her sake but for his peace of mind!

…on the second month and fourteenth day…

And then the wish: “I wish I could see again…”
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