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Category: Post-Hogwarts Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley Genres: Romance Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 78 Summary: The war is over and Ginny returns to school, but it isn't easy to pretend like everything is the same as before. [sequel to 'all your fumble words'] Hitcount: Story Total: 33912; Chapter Total: 2086 Awards: View Trophy Room |
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“Hermione, if you spend another minute on your hair, I swear on Merlin’s saggy–” “I’m coming, I’m coming!” Hermione (finally) emerges from the bathroom. Her bushy hair’s been tamed, and now falls in gentle waves around her shoulders. It would look quite natural if Ginny hadn’t been witness to the half an hour battle, beginning with Sleekeazy’s and ending with heating her wand up to curl her hair using the charm that the both of them had learnt from Witch Weekly over the summer. “You look good,” Ginny admits, begrudgingly. Hermione blushes. “Thank you.” “Valentine’s Day really isn’t such a big deal, though,” Ginny adds. She’s been trying not to think about the last Valentine’s Day she spent at Hogwarts. Hogsmeade visits had been out of the picture, obviously, and she’d had to deal with Vincent Crabbe leering at her and saying Maybe you’ll do, even though you’re a blood traitor, Weasley. “Well–no, of course it isn’t,” Hermione says, bringing her back to reality. “It’s not a big deal at all. It doesn’t mean anything, it’s just an artificial holiday, and–” “Breathe, Hermione,” Ginny says, amused. “But it’s the last time I’ll meet Ron before his birthday,” Hermione says, and bites her lip. Ginny’s suddenly reminded of the Hermione she first met, a nervous twelve-year-old with wide eyes and an overbite. Impulsively, she leans forward and tugs Hermione into a hug. “It’ll be fine, Hermione,” she said. There’s a pause, and then Hermione’s arms come up to wrap around her, returning the hug tightly. Ginny sometimes think Hermione’s used to dealing with everything alone when it comes to her feelings and nervousness and worries. She thinks it’s maybe what they have in common sometimes. “Thanks,” Hermione says quietly. “Come on. We’ll get late,” Ginny says, linking her arm through Hermione’s. She doesn’t want to admit it, but she’s quite eagerly been looking forward to seeing Harry. They’ve been speaking on the mirror, of course, a few times a week, but it’s not the same. She wants to see him, wants to touch him and see the way his eyes sparkle when she teases him. They make their way downstairs, and once they leave the Gryffindor Common Room, they see Luna, leaning against the wall and thumbing through their latest issue of the student Quibbler. “Hi, Luna. Are you coming to Hogsmeade with us?” Hermione asks. “Oh, yes. I’m meeting Neville,” Luna says. At Ginny and Hermione’s confused looks, she adds, “We’re spending the day together, as friends. I think Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillan might be joining us, too.” “That sounds fun,” Ginny says. “Yes. I would ask you to join us, but I assume you want to spend the day with your boyfriends, don’t you?” Luna says. “I’m pretty sure they would love to meet you, though,” Ginny says with a grin. “That’s true. I’ve been writing to Harry, to ask him about his comment about the Rotfang Conspiracy. He is part of the Ministry inner circle now, you know. So are Neville and Ron,” Luna says. “Excellent point,” Ginny agrees. * It’s a surprisingly sunny day for February, despite how cold it is. Ginny’s wrapped up in a jumper knitted by her Mum and her warmest scarf, but she can feel the sun on her face, and it makes her smile. When they’re entering Hogsmeade, she stops suddenly. “Did you hear that?” she says. That sounded almost like–no, but it can’t be… “Hear what?” Luna says, but Hermione frowns, looking to the left. Aha. She hears it too. So Ginny wasn’t imagining it. She turns to the left, in the direction Hermione looked at, and then steps forward, towards the rustling sound. She reaches out, grasping at nothingness until she finds what she’s looking for, and then she tugs at it. Beneath the Invisibility Cloak, Harry grins at her, hair rumpled, leaning against a tree. “Harry!” she says, and then flings her arms around his neck. “You’re really tough to surprise, Weasley,” he says, but she feels his warm hands on her back, and she doesn’t have to look up at him to know that he’s grinning. “You’re really shit at sneaking around, Potter,” she retorts, and closes her eyes. She rests her cheek against his chest, and she can hear his heartbeat against her ear. Steady. Reassuring. “Hi, Harry,” Hermione says, but Ginny doesn’t open her eyes, doesn’t dare step back from him, just in case this is some kind of fevered hallucination. She’d be fine if it was, actually, as long as she doesn’t have to wake up or let go of Harry. “Hi, Luna. Hey, Hermione. You look nice,” Harry observes. His grip on Ginny is just as tight as hers, and she can feel him rub a hand over her back, in that absentminded way he has of touching her that makes her feel warm and safe. It’s that that finally gets her to open her eyes. She looks up at Harry, and then goes onto her tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before she reluctantly steps back. “Thank you,” Hermione says, looking delightedly. “Do you, uh — do you know where–” “The Three Broomsticks,” Harry says. “I managed to convince him not to wait for you at Madam Puddifoot’s.” “Thank God for that,” Ginny mutters. “I’ll walk with you, that’s where I’m meeting Neville,” Luna says brightly. “Bye, Harry. Have fun! But not too much fun, because Valentine’s Day means you’re at a higher risk of Wrackspurts.” “I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry promises. “So,” Ginny says, once Hermione and Luna have left and Harry’s promised to speak to Luna about the Rotfang Conspiracy in depth later, “I very much hope we’re not going to Madam Puddifoot’s.” Harry laughs, actually throws his head back and laughs, even though it really wasn’t that funny at all. “Oh, we are, actually. I have a table booked for us,” he tells her. “How better to celebrate Valentine’s Day?” Ginny muses. Harry’s arm is still around her, so it’s easy for him to start leading her down the path. She falls into step beside him without a word. “Exactly. I put in a request for the pinkest table they have,” Harry says, very seriously. “If we’re actually going there, I might have to break up with you,” Ginny says. “I would judge you if you didn’t,” Harry says. “We’re not going there. But I can’t tell you where we’re going.” “Why not?” Ginny asks. “Because it’s a surprise,” Harry says. Ginny rolls her eyes. “There aren’t many places you can surprise me here, you know,” she points out. “There’s maybe two pubs and three places to eat…” “Who says I’m surprising you here?” Harry says mysteriously. He has his poker face on, his Auror mask, but Ginny can see that his eyes are shining with excitement, so she decides to go along with the surprise. They’re walking towards back towards Hogwarts, Ginny realises, towards the outskirts of the village. “You’re being very presumptuous, Auror Potter. Who says I’m going to come with you?” she teases. Excitement’s building up, though, bubbling up in her chest. It’s been ages since she’s been properly surprised. “You ready?” Harry says, instead of teasing her back. He draws to a halt, right at the boundary of the village. She nods. “Okay. Close your eyes.” “What?” “Close your eyes,” Harry repeats. “Trust me, Gin.” She hesitates for another second, but then nods, closing her eyes. Harry pulls her even closer, arm securely around her waist and then there’s a pop! and squeezing sensation around her, pushing her in from every direction. Just when it’s getting too much, it eases up, and even before Ginny opens her eyes, she knows they’re not in Hogsmeade anymore. It’s loud, much louder than it gets in Hogwarts, the kind of noise that can only be caused by Muggle cars. And people, lots of people, she can hear the distant buzz of that. “You usually tell someone when you’re going to Apparate them somewhere, Potter,” she says. “Open your eyes,” Harry says. She does. Her eyes go wide as she takes it all in. They’re standing on the front step of Grimmauld Place. “Oh,” she breathes. She still doesn’t understand why Harry’s brought her here, for Valentine’s Day. She wasn’t expecting anything romantic, not exactly, but… “Here,” Harry says, and opens the door for her. “Kreacher isn’t in tonight. Nor is Andromeda. We have the place all to ourselves. No Ron and George here, either.” Oh. “Well, then, Potter. How do you propose we pass the time here?” Ginny asks, stepping in. Harry closes the front door behind himself, mirroring her smirk with one of his own. “Oh, I think we’ll find a way,” he says, and she’s already laughing even as he leans down to kiss her. * In her fourth year, the year after Voldemort returned, the year her dad got bitten by Voldemort’s godawful snake, she spent quite some time in Grimmauld Place. She associated the house with lots of images: Sirius, Tonks, Remus. Ghosts. She associated it with Boggarts, and waiting anxiously for news about her father, and the place her brothers invented their Extendable Ears. None of those memories are pleasant. Even the good ones are tinged with bittersweet edges, remind her of people who aren’t around anymore. Today, though. Today might be the best memory she’s ever created in this house, she thinks. She and Harry are lying down in a spare bedroom that Kreacher’s redecorated so much that she doesn’t even know who it belonged to, originally. They’re still panting, and her head’s propped up on his chest, right on the scar over his heart. “I should be getting back soon, don’t you think?” she says lazily. Next to her, Harry groans. “No.” He wraps his arm around her bare waist. “You shouldn’t. We should stay here.” “Mm. Can you imagine McGonagall’s face? I’m sorry I missed curfew, Professor, I was too busy with my boyfriend,” Ginny chuckles. “I bet it’d be priceless,” Harry says. “Or maybe not. She’d let you get away with more than you think, maybe.” “Always said she was a dark horse,” Ginny says, muffling a yawn against his chest. She’s starting to feel dangerously cozy like this. “I’ve missed this,” Harry says after a moment, rubbing his hand in slow, concentric circles over her back. “Being here with you.” “Yeah, I know,” Ginny says with a sigh. “This was… fuck, this was a really good Valentine’s Day gift. Sorry I didn’t get you anything.” “I have Ginny Weasley in my bed, naked. Don’t need much else,” Harry says. “This isn’t even your bed, tosser,” Ginny says, but she grins at him. “Technically it is. It’s my house,” Harry points out. “You’re getting very good at seeing the technicalities in a case, Auror Potter,” Ginny says. “It’s almost weird, how much you sound like Robards,” Harry says thoughtfully. “That’s just what every girl wants to hear,” Ginny says with a grin, and sits up in bed reluctantly. She gets to her feet and stretches out, and she can feel his eyes on her even as she grabs her hand and Summons her clothes back to her. “Just a few more months,” Harry says, and she hears the rustling of the sheets as he gets up, as well. “And then we won’t have to work so hard for a few hours’ alone.” Ginny smiles and turns to look at him. “A few more months,” she repeats, like a mantra. “This was the best Valentine’s I’ve ever had,” she admits. “Me too. By far,” Harry says. Ginny turns to look at him; he’s fully dressed now, and he steps towards her, tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear so gently she feels as if she might cry. She clears her throat, goes on her tiptoes and kisses her cheek. “Come on, then. If you Apparate us now, we’ll be able to join the others for a drink before I have to go back to school.” “Yeah,” Harry says, and tangles their fingers together as they start to walk downstairs and out of the house. A few more months. She can do this. This will have to do, for now. * |
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