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SIYE Time:18:22 on 28th March 2024
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Twenty-Two
By EthyleneGlycol

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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-DH/AB
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley
Genres: Angst, Drama, Romance
Warnings: Mild Language
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 17
Summary: They say good things come to those who wait. Except to Harry that is.
Hitcount: Story Total: 8692; Chapter Total: 2954







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It was two days after Ginny’s Hogwarts Graduation. Harry had managed to finagle a few days off from the Arrows–offhand comments about how any team in the league would be happy to have him notwithstanding–and was at the Burrow, celebrating with the rest of the Weasley family.

The July evening was warm and humid, the moisture in the air clinging to bodies as one tried to move as little as possible. Harry, not one to follow a crowd, walked away from the Weasleys lounging in a circle, conversing quietly in the light cast by the floating lamps. He had only one goal in mind, having seen her walk off a little while ago. He found her at the edge of the Weasley’s pond.

“Hey, Harry.”

“How’d you know it was me?”

“Your reflection.” She said, pointing to the pond. There he was, his face visible in the moonlight on the pond. Ginny’s already pale features had an almost ethereal glow about them in the pond, her fiery red hair framing her face. Harry fell in love with her once again.

He sat down next to her, a companionable silence stretching between the two of them. They sat like that for almost an hour, the only sound was the rhythm of their gentle breathing, the only movement was that of a hand to brush away an insect. Harry wished they could sit like that forever, basking in the very presence of each other, no need for words and gestures. But it was getting late, and it was only a matter of time before Mrs. Weasley came looking for them.

“Ginny?” he said, quietly.

“Mmmm?”

“Have you ever thought about what you’re going to do now?”

She was silent for a few moments. “Not really. I’ve given a thought to healing, but I don’t know if I really have the temperament for it.”

“I’m sure you’d make a wonderful healer, Ginny.”

“Regardless, I think I’d really like to try my hand at Quidditch. But I was injured for the only Gryffindor match the scouts were there for, and it’s not exactly easy to schedule a personal tryout when you’re not Harry Potter.” He started to protest. “Settle down, Harry. Anyone who has watched you play knows you earned your way onto the pitch, fair and square.”

“I could maybe talk to a few people and get you a tryout with one of the teams. Mind you, it’ll probably be somebody dreadful like Falmouth or Chudley, but it’s a start.”

“You’d do that for me, Harry?”

He looked directly into her warm brown eyes. “Anything.”

She shifted uncomfortably. “Harry…”

It was now or never. “Ginny, I know it’s been almost two years, but I’d like to be back in your life, if you’d let me.”

She just looked at him, unblinkingly. Harry started to panic.

“I mean, if you want to, of course. It’s just that, now with you out of school and with my life starting to find some kind of routine…I mean…it’s just…I’ve never been happier than when I was with you.”

“It’s been a long time, Harry. We’ve barely seen each other since Dumbledore’s funeral.”

“That doesn’t matter to me, Ginny. A lot of things have changed over two years, but I know my love for you hasn’t.”

“Oh, Harry…” She said, sadly.

This wasn’t going as planned, thought Harry. He was supposed to confess her love for her and then she’d take him back with open arms. Or at least after she thoroughly took him to task for not acting on his feelings sooner. Her voice wasn’t supposed to be filled with sorrow, her eyes clouded with pain.

“I don’t know if I can give you what you want, Harry.”

“I don’t want anything from you, Ginny. I just want…no…I need you. I don’t want to be apart anymore.”

“Harry,” she said. “I think the girl you loved, the Ginny you loved, is gone.”

He stood up, trying to keep his rising temper out of his posture and voice. “I know she’s in there somewhere. The Ginny I love would never go anywhere.”

She stood up, studiously avoiding his face. “Exactly.”

She walked away from him then, not once looking back. Harry watched her go, tears slowly making their way down his cheeks. He looked down at the spot where Ginny had been sitting. There lay a small velvet hair band she must have removed from her hair sometime during the course of the evening. He pressed it to his nose, inhaling the remaining vestiges of Ginny–sunshine and meadows and home. Looking once more at the pond, his reflection starting back at him, alone, he turned on the spot and disappeared.

Two days later, a letter sat waiting for Ginny on the kitchen table. Making her way down to breakfast, she picked it up from the table, but upon seeing the sender, she burst into tears and ran from the room. Her mother picked it up, wondering what could have upset her daughter so.

It was from the Falmouth Falcons.

*****
“Hey, mate!”

“Ron?” said Harry, answering the door. “What are you doing here?”

“Seeing what you’re up to. Apparently you haven’t been to work in a few days, and Hermione is concerned. Only she would be concerned about somebody taking a few days off.”

He stepped aside, letting Ron into the flat. “If Hermione is the one who’s concerned, then why are you here?”

“She threatened to curse me.”

Harry nodded sagely, having extensive knowledge of that particular threat. He walked into the kitchen and brought back two bottles of beer, handing one to Ron as he settled himself on the couch.

“Isn’t it a bit early for one of these?” asked Ron as he twisted off the cap, taking a drink. “I’m so glad you introduced me to this stuff, much better than anything made by wizards.”

Harry turned on the television, watching Ron flip through the channels with abandon, still endlessly fascinated by the moving pictures despite Harry having owned a television for over a decade.

“What did you think of Jordan?” asked Ron, not looking away from the television.

“He seemed like a nice guy. At least he isn’t Malfoy.”

Ron didn’t laugh. “Yeah, he’s an alright bloke. But there really isn’t anything to him, is there? Just another Ministry paper pusher, albeit a relatively pleasant one.”

“I don’t really know him that well, Ron.”

“Neither do I, but I’d say there’s not much to know from what I’ve seen. Don’t know what Ginny sees in him.”

“I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.”

Ron turned to look at him. “Why aren’t you the one marrying her?”

Harry was taken aback. “What?”

“I know how much you care for her. It’s obvious, really. Why are you letting her be with someone like Jordan. He’s really the epitome of not you.”

“What did Hermione say to you?” Harry growled.

“Her suspicions, which I happen to share as well.”

“You’re wrong. Both of you.”

He started to panic. He would have never guessed Ron would have picked up on his feelings for Ginny, much less conspire with Hermione to confront him about them. The lack of venom in his voice was surprising, though. He would have never considered Ron would have approved of these feelings.

“Yeah, right, Harry. Hermione wrong?”

“Look, I don’t know what she told you, but I don’t care about Ginny like that. I care about her as a friend, maybe as a brother, but definitely not like that.”

Ron snorted. “Harry, don’t be an idiot. You may care about me and Fred and George and Charlie like that, maybe even Hermione, but don’t even pretend you want to be Ginny’s brother.”

“But, you said we were supposed to protect her,” Harry said, lamely.

“Yeah, from people like Jordan,” Ron noticed the confused look on Harry’s face. “What? Did you think we wanted to protect her from you?”

“Well, yeah,” Harry mumbled.

Ron stood up and started pacing, running his hands through his hair.

“Ron?”

“God damn it, Harry. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. You’re supposed to be with Ginny. You were always supposed to be with Ginny. Now she’s gone off with some bland little man and you’re going to find some dank hole to crawl into until you die. This isn’t right. But it might be too late for you to fix it.”

“There’s nothing to fix, Ron. Ginny’s happy, so I’m happy. She doesn’t need me.”

“I guess it’s pretty easy to convince yourself after spending the better part of two decades telling yourself that.”

“It’s the truth, Ron,” Harry sighed, picking at some lint on his jeans.
Ron crouched down to look Harry in the face. “You’re wrong. It’s been a very long time, Harry, but things are still the way they’ve always been between the two of you. Hell, that’s probably why you aren’t together. Stubborn is all.”

“What about you and Hermione?”

“What about us? We never worked together like you and Ginny do. Before you started avoiding her, anyway. I love Hermione to death, Harry. But I couldn’t stand being married to her.”

Harry put his head in his hands. He was so confused. He had spent so many years convincing himself that this is what was best. Ginny would go off and be happy with somebody else, and he, Ron, and the rest of the Weasley brothers would always be there to look after her, to give her husband a hard time. So many years, gone. Harry knew this was the final straw. It had been easy to deny these facts to Hermione, but not to Ginny’s favorite brother.

Harry put his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do, Ron.”

Ron put his hand on his shoulder. “You really bollocksed it up this time, Harry. But I’m sure if you just talked to her…”

“I already did. She threw me out.”

“Ah, well. Can’t say I’m surprised. You were an idiot for twenty years; it’s going to take more than a visit and a declaration of love to change her mind.”

“So what do I do now?”

“Go see her again.”
*****
He was twenty-five and standing under a tree on the shore of the lake. He had just finished a brutal training session with the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, having agreed to help them out as a favor to McGonagall. After spending many hours watching them play, he definitely regretted having agreed to do so. He was just about ready to start walking towards the gates to apparate away, but McGonagall approached him.

“They’re not very good, are they, Harry?”

“With a little bit of training, they’ll be fine.”

McGonagall laughed softly. “You’re a horrible liar, Harry Potter.”

They stood next to each other, gazing out at the setting sun’s orange rays coloring the lake. It was McGonagall who broke the silence.

“Watching you grow up, it was a pleasure,” she said, surprising him. “You came from such a terrible environment for a child, and here you are, a brave, strong, and confident young man.”
“Professor?”

She smiled softly at him. “You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

Harry sighed, watching the lake turn a familiar red color. “Then why is it so difficult to find it?”

*****
Not for the first time, he wondered if he was insane, approaching them like this. What would they think when he told them, “Yes, I know your daughter is about to be married, but I’ve been in love with her for the past twenty years and I’m just getting around to admitting it, and oh these biscuits are absolutely delicious, Molly.” A brilliant plan, as per usual.

“Harry! What a wonderful surprise,” Molly said, gesturing him inside.

“I hope you weren’t in the middle of something, I just wanted to stop by quick.”

“We’re never too busy for you, Harry,” she said.

Even after all these years, Harry couldn’t stop the emotions that rose, unbidden, at being included as part of the Weasley family. He didn’t think the Weasleys would ever really be able to understand what it meant to him, an orphan boy, raised to believe he was a worthless burden, to finally have someone treat him as one of their own.

“So, Harry, what can we do for you?” asked Arthur as Harry entered the kitchen.

“Well, there was actually something I wanted to talk to the two of you about.”

Molly set a plate of biscuits down in front of him, taking a seat at the table next to her summer. Harry picked one off the plate, chewing it slowly as he mulled over his thoughts.

“These biscuits are delicious, Molly,” said Harry, reaching for another one and mentally slapping himself for saying it.

“Eat up, Harry. You’re looking much too thin.”

Harry took a deep breath, steeling himself for the inevitable outrage at his words.

“I wanted to talk to the two of you about something and it can’t wait anymore.”

“Are you in trouble, Harry?” asked Arthur, voicing the concern apparent in both the Weasley parents.

“In a manner of speaking.” Harry tried for a grin, failing miserably. He ran his hands through his hair. “There’s no easy way for me to say this, but…I think I’m in love with your daughter.”

Silence met his declaration. They sat there, regarding each other. Harry couldn’t help but fidget, knowing he needed to say this, but afraid of what the repercussions could be. He loved Ginny Weasley, but he couldn’t bear to lose the love of the rest of her family either.

It was Arthur who broke the silence.

“Harry…You’ve put us in a difficult position. We love you like a son, and wouldn’t want anything to happen that would change that, but Ginny is our daughter.”

“I understand, sir.” Harry stood up to leave.

“Sit down, Harry,” said Molly, not unkindly. “This would be different if you had come to us before Ginny was engaged. To be honest, Arthur and I would have loved nothing more than for you to marry her, but things are different now.”

Once again, Harry was shocked into silence. He had spent so long convincing himself that the Weasleys were better off without him married to Ginny, that these simple statements from her parents were causing his world to crash down around him. If only he hadn’t been so foolish, so reluctant, so afraid, he’d be the one getting married to Ginny. Now though, maybe Ginny was right, never was better.

“We’d love to see you with our daughter,” said Arthur. “But we can’t rightly support you being with her right now. She made a choice, and we support that choice, even if we think it may not be the best one.”

“Jordan is a wonderful man,” Molly added. “He’s just not as wonderful as you.”

“So what do you think I should do?”

Arthur spoke, looking conflicted. “I’m sorry, Harry. But we can’t help you here. I…we wish we could help you, but this is between you and our daughter.”

“Harry,” said Molly. “If things are meant to work out, they will. You’ve both been through too much to not find the happiness you deserve.”

“All you can do is speak with her, Harry. If she wants to try for something with you, then that’s her choice. But don’t you dare try and force her to do something she doesn’t want to do. She is going to be married soon, and if you ruin this for her, then there’ll be hell to pay.” Harry was taken back by the strong words of the normally mild mannered Weasley patriarch. “You make things right, Harry Potter, no matter what that may be.”

Harry didn’t say anything to that. Sitting and munching a biscuit, trying to sort things out in his head. He knew what the Weasleys were saying were true: it would be wrong to break up Ginny’s engagement. But he couldn’t help but focus on the fact they said they’d love to see him with Ginny. He was conflicted and the people he usually came to for advice in these matters couldn’t provide it to him.

He said goodnight to the Weasleys, promising to give this issue much contemplation before he decided on a course of action. With one last round of hugs and a round of warm goodbyes–despite Arthur’s warning earlier–he accepted a tin of biscuits from Molly and went out the front door, disappearing into the night.

*****
“Thanks,” said Harry, accepting the glass of firewhiskey from Bill.

“Happy Christmas, Harry. Did you get what you wanted?”

“Of course. Any gift I receive from your family is more than enough.”

Bill followed Harry’s gaze to where it rested on a certain female Weasley. “Life is too short to not go after what you want, Harry.”

Harry didn’t say anything. He and Bill stood there for a long time. No words were spoken, but each man knew where the other stood. It would be the last time he saw Bill alive.

*****
“Have you talked to her? The wedding is in a few days you know.”

“I know when here wedding is, Hermione. But no, I haven’t spoken to her yet. I’m still not sure what to say.”

“Damn it, Harry. I’ve been with you this whole time, but if you keep dragging your feet and resort to disrupting the ceremony or chasing her down on her honeymoon, then I think my involvement in this ordeal will be over.”

“I’m not going to do anything like that, Hermione. You should know me better than that.”

“The Harry Potter I knew would have done something years ago. He wouldn’t have slunk around like a coward, using any means available to him to avoid having to acknowledge his feelings.”

“I haven’t been avoiding anything.”

Hermione looked at him, arms crossed. She wouldn’t be moved, Harry could tell. Maybe she had a point. It’s not like he went out of his way to avoid her; there may have been a few times he had thrown his Invisibility Cloak over his head when Ginny entered a room, but it had absolutely nothing to do with her.

“Maybe a little.” Harry conceded.

“Mmmhmm,” said Hermione, handing Harry a butterbeer she had summoned from the kitchen. “And what do you plan on saying to her?”

“I haven’t said I was going to go talk to her yet.”

“I might as well just go then,” said Hermione, walking over to the door. “The wedding is in a few days and by then the race will have been lost.”

“Hermione,” called Harry, stopping her at the door. “I’m saying…I’m going to tell her I’ve been a fool, I love her, and I want her to give me a chance.”

“She’s engaged, Harry. You’re going to have to be a little more convincing than that.”

“What more do you want me to say?”

Hermione crossed her legs, looking at her hands resting on her knee. She didn’t say anything for quite some time.

“Hermione?”

“No, you’re right. You shouldn’t say anything more. You’re not exactly known for your eloquence, after all. Anything else will feel contrived. Make sure you don’t give her anything romantic either.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Hermione. That makes me feel like the perfect man for Ginny.”

“No, don’t you see? You’re exactly the kind of guy Ginny wants, because all she’s wanted is you. She’s told me a couple of times about how she appreciates all the presents and what not Jordan showers her with, but it makes her uncomfortable. She wants someone who can show how much he loves her with a look, a touch. Not garish displays and saccharin poetry.”

“She really said that?”

“Yes, it was soon after they got together. I think she was trying to give me a hint. A hint I believe I passed along.” Hermione looked pointedly at Harry.

“Yes, well there was no sense of urgency then. Now I understand.” Harry checked his watch. “In fact, I may head over to her place right now. It’s time to put this to rest, no matter how it ends.”

Hermione rose, giving Harry a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Good luck.”

Harry watched Hermione shut the door behind her. Grabbing an envelope off of the table, he followed Hermione out the door.
*****
“There you go, good as new.”

“Thanks, Mr. Potter. I hope I get to see you again real soon!”

Harry smiled as he watched the little boy leave the children’s ward with his mother. The one negative of healing was that you never wanted to see your patients again, no matter how much you enjoyed treating them.

“You know, Mr. Potter,” said Mrs. Chamberlain, his supervisor, walking up behind him. “When you first applied here, I thought they hired you only for your name. But you’ve proven me wrong. You’re an excellent healer, and you’ll receive my full recommendation when you have your license application reviewed next week.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Chamberlain, that really means a lot to me.”

“You deserve it.” She checked her watch. “In fact, why don’t you take off now? It’s almost the end of your shift as it is and I’m sure you’d rather be anywhere else than here.”

Harry looked away, unable to stop Ginny’s face from appearing in his mind’s eye. “There’s nothing for me out there.”

*****
The door opened before Harry had a chance to knock.

“I heard you apparate,” responded Ginny to Harry’s unasked question. “What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in? Only for a minute, I promise.”

Ginny moved silently to the side, allowing Harry to enter the flat. Signs of her impending nuptials littered the small sitting room. The sofa was covered with a pile of garishly colored fabric, magazines littered the floor, and some horrible sound was emanating from the wireless.

“What do you want?” asked Ginny from behind Harry, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

“Look, I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now,” he mindlessly adjusted his glasses, “but I just wanted to say…”

“No, Harry, don’t say a word. You made it quite clear how you felt the last time you were here.”

Harry looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

“My answer is still the same. If you’ve felt this way for so long, you should have said something sooner. Fifteen years sooner. I’m going to marry Jordan, a man whom I love.”

“You may care for him, Ginny, but do you love him? Really love him?”

She looked away. “Yes. I have to.”

Harry crossed the room to stand in front of her, placing his fingers under her chin and gently raising her eyes to look into his. They stood staring into each other’s eyes for what felt like to Harry an eternity, but couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. He saw visions of what was, what could have been, and what could be in those dark, chocolate eyes.

“Do you?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” she said, moving infinitesimally closer to Harry with each passing second.

Harry resisted the urge to crush his lips to her with every fiber of his being. If this was going to happen, Ginny was going to have to make the first move. No matter how long it took, or how frustrated he became waiting for her to make it. He had caused Ginny quite a bit of frustration over the years; turnabout was fair play.

Inches from his face, she stopped, visibly shaking her head. She backed away from Harry, wrapping her arms around herself. Harry couldn’t prevent a strangled moan from escaping.

“No,” she said, steeling her resolve, “I love him. I may have loved you once, Harry Potter, but not anymore.”

“But, Ginny…”

“I don’t know if you’re a coward, or the bravest man I know,” she said, almost to herself. “Why did you wait so long to say something?”

“I’ve been trying to tell myself I was doing it to try and protect you, but in the end, I guess I was just afraid of damaging my relationship with you and your family. You’re all I have in this world.” He looked at her, expecting to see sympathy, or at least some sort of neutral expression on her face as she considered this. What he did not expect to see was anger marring her beautiful features.

“Twenty years, Harry, and this is all you have to say for yourself? You were afraid of being rejected? You don’t think my parents and brothers care for you enough that one little dustup between the two of us would lead them to stop treating you as family?” Ginny snorted. “You’re my mother’s favorite son, after all.”

“I know that now…”

“Too bad you didn’t figure that out a long time ago.”

“Is it really too late for me, for us, Ginny?”

Harry waited with bated breath, taking confidence in the fact she was hesitating in responding. He couldn’t help feeling like a malevolent force in her life, trying to persuade her to at least delay, if not break off her marriage, but damn it, if he was going to be selfish only once in his life, this was the time. This was his opportunity to right the wrongs of the past twenty years, and all he needed was for Ginny to give him a chance.

“Yes. I may have loved you many years ago, Harry, hell maybe I still love you, but I can’t throw away the life I’ve built on a whim. Not for you, not anymore.”

“Ginny?”

“Yes, Harry?”

He took one of her hands in his, rubbing his thumb softly across her knuckles.

“I know I made an enormous mistake not coming to you sooner. But if you would just give me a chance to make this right, I have no doubt in my mind I could make you the happiest woman in the world. I love you, Ginny Weasley. I have for a long time now, and nothing will ever make me stop.”

Ginny locked gazes with him, not taking notice of the tears leaking out the corner of her eyes. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Harry looked at her quizzically.

“Jordan will make me happy. We’ll have a couple of kids and have a nice quiet life somewhere. But he’s never been able to make my heart pound or turn my blood to fire like you, or I suppose the thought of you, has. But I can’t take the chance. I can’t give away the promise of happiness with Jordan for the possibility of happiness with you.”

Harry took no notice of his own tears. “Are you sure? There’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”

“I’ve thought a lot about this since you showed up here a few weeks ago. And no matter how much I want to do it, I can’t give it all up. Not even for you.”

Harry looked at the ground, his world falling to pieces. It had seemed so easy before he had arrived. He would come over here, say a few choice words, and Ginny would be his. But just as he had discovered over the last twenty-two years, life rarely works out the way you want it to.

Harry sighed, pushing himself to his feet, wiping away his tears. He grabbed the envelope he had thrown onto a chair when he first arrived and handed it to Ginny.

“Here,” he said, handing the envelope to her. “A little something to remember me by. I hope you never forget what we had.”

He kissed her on the cheek and walked towards the door. Right before he closed the door behind him, he heard her open the envelope and look at the picture inside, whispering to herself.

“I could never forget.”
*****
“Why don’t you try and find another girl? It’s not as if you’d have any trouble finding a date,” said Hermione, handing him another beer.

He was thirty-six years old, and had just broken up with Amanda Pennings, a woman he had been in a relationship with for almost three years. She had wanted him to commit to her.

“None of them are her.”

Hermione sighed, this was a conversation they had had many times over the last few years. “If you’re not going to say anything to her, which, knowing you, is the most likely occurrence, then why don’t you try and forget about her.”

Harry answered, his voice barely audible. “I could never forget her.”

*****
It was the night before Ginny’s wedding, and he sat alone in his apartment, progressing quite quickly through a bottle of scotch. He had begged off the small celebration the Weasley’s were having, with the excuse that he was a bit under the weather and didn’t want to be sick for the wedding tomorrow. He doubted they believed him, but he knew they understood.

It was for the best, Harry knew. He had no right to expect Ginny to give up her entire life for him, especially after he had spent the last two decades refusing to go out on a limb for her. He had depended on the love of the Weasley’s the entirety of his magical life, but he would never know what life would be like with the love of the Weasley he wanted the most.

It was at this moment he knew he would never be able to sit through her wedding tomorrow. He couldn’t bear to watch Ginny walk down the aisle into the arms of another man. All of them would be displeased, but he knew it was for the best. He didn’t want to cast a dark shadow over what should be a happy occasion for Ginny and her family. Hermione would probably curse him when he got back, but it would be worth it. His happiness truly did depend upon Ginny’s; even though she would never be his, her having found love with someone did make Harry happy. Just not happy enough to watch her make it final. He had been running away for twenty-two years, what difference would another few weeks make?

Decision made, he walked into his bedroom, haphazardly tossing some clothes and toiletries into a bag. It was time for a vacation. He’d send an owl to St. Mungo’s once he arrived–from somewhere warm–but he knew they wouldn’t complain. The Boy-Who-Lived, the Man-Who-Won, would have no problem cashing in vacation time on short notice. Jamaica was beautiful this time of year.

He turned off all of the lights, and securing his apartment, he opened the door, preparing to apparate. Instead of the sight of an empty corridor–or the visage of his feline smelling elderly next-door neighbor, Mrs. Phillips–he was expecting, the familiar red tresses and wildflower smell of Ginny Weasley jumping back in surprise was what greeted him.

“Ginny?”

“Oh, Harry, hi.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I, um, came to give you this.”

He opened the package she gave him. It was a picture. So similar to the one he had sitting on his mantle, and the copy he gave her yesterday, he thought for a moment she was giving it back to him again. But upon a closer look, he noticed a few differences. They both looked older, and he recognized the stupid little goatee he tried to grow when he was nineteen. This wasn’t from their sixth year, it was from Ginny’s graduation.

He looked at her, at a loss for words.

“I thought you’d appreciate it.”

With all previous resolve to give Ginny Weasley up forever gone, he wrapped her in a warm hug and kissed her. Kissed her with all of the feeling and passion he had allowed to simmer for twenty-two years. She returned his kiss, matching him move for move, feeling for feeling. It took everything he had to break himself away. He took a step back, taking a deep breath.

“I’m really sorry, Ginny. I shouldn’t have done that.”

She put a hand on his cheek, a warm smile on her face. Her eyes were lit with a fire he hadn’t seen directed at him in a very long time. “That’s alright, Harry, that’s actually what I came here to talk to you about.” She noticed his now forgotten bag sitting lopsidedly on the floor. “Say, are you going somewhere?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Actually, you see...”

She put a finger on his lips, and spoke, still with the fire alight in her eyes and the smile on her face.

“Take me with you.”
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