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SIYE Time:10:22 on 29th March 2024
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Dreaming a Life
By GryffindorHealer

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Other
Genres: Drama, Romance
Warnings: Extreme Language, Intimate Sexual Situations
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 56
Summary: The last thing Ginny Potter heard before the Bludger hit her was ‘Harry! Al!’ Then she woke up in St. Mungo’s, and no one knew who Harry, James, Al, Lily, or Teddy were that she kept asking for. What the hell was happening?
Hitcount: Story Total: 17147; Chapter Total: 1910
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
We started this journey on 28 March, and now we've come to the end of this dream. Thank you for coming on this imaginary journey, I sincerely hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed telling this tale. And my thanks again to Pottermum, for telling the tale that sparked this concept. You should go read that fic, Living a Dream

I also need to say a Profound Thank You to my Francophone Beta's, GinIsBetterThanFirewhiskey and JulieDX, for their help keeping what Fleur says sounding like, you know, Actual French. You two help me realize my HC of someone who is so much more than just a pretty face, and is somewhat neglected in that aspect. Thank you.




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Wednesday, 6 July, 2011

 

A regular, coughing chuff grabbed Ginny’s attention, but when she opened her eyes only clouds of steamy vapor filled her vision, everywhere she looked. A hand touched her shoulder lightly and she turned. Harry stood there, wearing his newest Weasley jumper and jeans. He wrapped warm arms around her, dispelling the initial cold spreading through her at her first sight of this nothingness.

‘Where are we?’ she asked him.

He shrugged, smirking, his bright green eyes glinting. ‘Dunno.’ he said, and she glared at him. ‘It’s your dream. But that regular chuffing noise and this steam reminds me of something.’ She looked around again through thinning mist at familiar passenger carriages lined up alongside them. At the front a polished red and brass locomotive periodically chuffed more clouds of steam which drifted along and about the platform.

‘Platform 9 and ¾,’ she whispered. ‘What ever are we doing at Kings Cross?’

Harry chuckled, the vibrations from his chest warming her. ‘Again, your dream so I don’t know. But I’m pretty confident it’s not for the same reason I came here when we first met.’ She slapped his shoulder lightly for his cheekiness.

‘Prat,’ she muttered, but the smile on her face felt warm. His eyes lifted from her and looked over her shoulder, a calm grin of recognition warming his eyes.

‘Hello?’ A young voice, tentative, and not very close by called out. Ginny turned and found herself facing … herself. Like looking into a mirror that melted time away. Long red-gold hair, falling in gentle waves around her shoulders, dressed much like they both were in jeans. And another Weasley jumper, with a G on the front.

‘She might know something,’ he said.

Ginny turned back to him, questioning. ‘How much did you hear yesterday?’

He nodded gently, stroking her cheek lightly. ‘Enough to know, you need to go talk to… your younger self.’ His cheeky grin grew larger. ‘Maybe you need to tell her to take the other me down a peg or two again. Now, how often am I going to be able to say that?’ She chuckled back, turned again to watch her younger self approach the train slowly. Harry’s arms fell away from her sides, the sudden absence raising a thrill of doubt. ‘Go on,’ he said, with a gentle push. ‘I’ll wait here.’

She glanced back at his encouraging nod, then walked purposefully forward. The younger woman reached out to touch a carriage, standing on tip-toes to peer inside when Ginny rested a hand lightly on her shoulder. With a startled jump her younger self spun around to face her, and froze.

‘Er, what's happening?” asked the girl. Ginny slipped her arm through the younger’s.

‘Let's take a walk,’ she said, reassuringly, and with a brief nod to Harry, led the younger girl away to a space where they shared some privacy. The silence drew out in an awkward sensation as she thought about her usual talkative self. Then young Ginny spoke. ‘You have a wonderful family.’

She smiled softly. ‘Thank you. I-- missed them, terribly, for a bit there.’

‘I understand. When I woke up, I missed them too.’

‘You were there, in my place,’ she said kindly, and the younger girl nodded.

‘Yes, I… ‘ The younger girl glanced over to where Harry waited, and blushing blurted out, ‘So, is that my future?’ A marriage and three children with Harry?’

Ginny smiled kindly. ‘Your future isn't written,’ she said, gently. ‘Don't be in such a hurry.’ Then impulsively she continued, ‘And who said we're stopping at three? We talked about it, before we married, and while the number three came up, we both agreed, as many as life brings us.’

The steam whistle tooted, and both women looked over to the train.

‘Are you going somewhere?’ young Ginny asked.

Ginny frowned slightly. Again she wondered why they were here, and grinned at Harry’s cheeky reply earlier. Her dream. She could do anything she wanted. ‘Harry likes to take the train,’ she said, ‘Hogwarts sometimes opens for families to visit during the summer.’

‘Well, keep an eye on James.’

Ginny laughed at the seriousness in the younger voice, watching Harry tilt his head. ‘He can be a handful, that one.’ She looked at her younger self as the younger girl lifted a hand and started to chew on a fingernail, then stop self-consciously. Longing filled those brown eyes as they followed someone in the windows of the train, and glancing over Ginny saw James and Al running along the corridor.

‘I envy you.’ The words flew out of the younger girl’s mouth, and Ginny looked at her in surprise. ‘I've been so driven to prove myself, to my family, to Mum, that I didn't spend any time being myself. Just... living, rather than being so wrapped up in becoming the best Quidditch player.’

Ginny contemplated what her younger self said, nodding slowly. ‘Our experiences during the Carrows year were similar, though with a few differences. Those were hard times; we needed to make hard decisions. I think… I believe you threw yourself into Quidditch to get away from how bad those memories can be.’ The younger girl looked at her, eyes wide. ‘And, since you didn’t know Harry yet, he couldn’t help you like he did me.’

They both turned to see Harry standing in the doorway of the train, watching them both, waiting. Ginny glanced at her younger self. A brief flash of an old feeling that hadn’t touched her since Hogwarts hit her at the look in those younger eyes, focused on her Harry. She shook her head, pushing it down. Even if what she now thought happened in the dream this other version of her experienced, it didn’t matter. Or it did, but for good reasons. Recollections of past thoughts of her own, wondering about her relationship, flitted through her head. She nodded. ‘And I envy you, for being at the start of a wonderful journey, for so many firsts to look forward to.’

‘With Harry?’ younger Ginny asked, a blush spreading over her face and down her neck. Older Ginny tilted her head, knowing the reaction younger Ginny displayed meant she remembered intimate moments with Harry, either Ginny’s own, or her younger one.

‘It's fine. I don't blame you one bit, he's quite a man.’ Then she smiled a bit wickedly. ‘Though it does shine an entirely new light on polyamory.’ The younger girl looked at her blankly.

‘What?’

‘Ne ver mind, it really doesn’t matter.’ Ginny regarded her kindly. ‘Knowing Harry, if anything he would feel he took advantage of you.’

The younger girl shook her head vigorously. ‘He didn’t! I should have told him…’

‘And what, have him or someone else think you were insane because all your memories were different?’ She nodded when younger Ginny’s face paled. ‘You’re starting your life. I’ve an unfair advantage there, more experience. And it still took me a lot to ask someone for help with something I didn’t understand. Plus, you’re, well, me. I did my absolute best back then to get Harry to act on his feelings. I’d have done the same as you.’

The younger girl looked deep into Ginny’s eyes, calmness returning, then curiosity filled those brown eyes, gold flecks blazing as she realized the older version of herself spent time in her place. ‘Who were you with?’

‘Bill. And Fleur. It took me several years to realize that our sister-in-law is a wonderful person, and you appear to know that already.’ They nodded to each other, and a quiet second passed. ‘I envy you another way. I didn't get to meet your Harry before I found myself back.’

She smiled shyly, and Ginny felt a resurgence of her joy the day Harry first kissed her. ‘You’re right,’ said younger Ginny. ‘He’s quite a man.’

Then the train whistle tooted again, and Harry’s voice came to them. ‘Ginny! It’s nearly time.’

The younger woman threw her arms around Ginny, holding tight. 'Percy... and Dad.' Her voice cracked, she stopped speaking. Ginny saw the shining eyes brimming with tears her younger self held back, determined not to cry. She'd always been so determined not to cry.

‘Fred, and Sirius. And… many years together, building your lives.’

‘Do you think we’ll visit? Will I see you again?’

Ginny nodded, grinning cheekily. ‘When you look in the mirror in another ten years or so.’ Their eyes locked together, and then they both laughed. ‘I better go.’ She pushed away from her younger self, and took a step towards the train.

‘Wait!” cried younger Ginny, and she paused, turning back. ‘Was it real? Or was I just living a dream?’

‘Even if you just lived a dream, even if I dreamed your life, what makes it any less real?’ Then she turned back to Harry, and he helped her up into the carriage. With a clatter of metallic clanks and squeals the train began to roll slowly, and Harry closed the door. Alongside, younger Ginny walked along to keep up.

‘Goodbye!’ the younger girl called, waving, as the train pulled ahead. Ginny stood watching through the window, Harry's arm around her comfortably, as younger Ginny ran alongside until the platform stopped, then grew smaller with the distance. When the platform disappeared from view as the train curled around a bend, with a smile on her face and a lighter heart, she turned back to Harry, her Harry, and melted into a tight hug.

She pulled back slightly to find his eyes, and melted into them. ‘Did I look like that, running along the train so long ago?’

Harry chuckled. ‘You were a bit smaller.’

She slapped his shoulder.

‘Hey, I like the size you grew into better!’

‘For that I shall forgive your rudeness,’ she quipped, lifting herself on tip-toes to kiss him gently.

‘Lets go catch up with the kids,” he whispered, She nodded to him, but stopped his turn to press her lips softly to his again, a timeless moment, before she too turned, twining the fingers of her hand into his as they walked along the passageway.

‘Do you want more children?’ she asked, and he stopped, his eyes wider when she turned to him.

‘What brings that on?’

She patted his cheek softly. ‘Oh, nothing.’

Harry chuckled, nodding slowly. ‘What?’

‘You did say, however many life brings us.’ She shook her head, scoffing, and pulled him along the corridor.

She woke to a dark room, Harry’s arm around her as he spooned her from behind, his hand cupping her breast while he slept. A proud bit of him pressed against her bum, and she chuckled softly to herself knowing that meant he still dreamed. She wondered briefly if he’d pulled her into one of the loo’s on the carriage for their private interlude. Cheekily she rubbed against him lightly, then settled.

The bed shook slightly from another body leaning into it. Opening her eyes, Al smiled at her, his green eyes filled with concern. She budged the covers up a bit making sure they covered her chest as she slid her arm over and stroked his forearm lightly. It wasn’t that Al hadn’t seen them both nude in the hot tub before; she simply didn’t want to move her husband’s hand yet. ‘What woke you up, Al?’

He shrugged, propping his chin in his hands. ‘Dunno. Was dreaming about a train ride.’ Ginny wondered briefly if all her family took part in her dream, watching her younger son think through something. She rested her hand on his.

‘It’s been a while since you’ve come to me in the night. Something woke you.’

‘Are you really all better?’ he blurted, and her heart skipped a beat at the fear and pain in his voice.

‘Oh, love, yes, I am.’ She took his hand in hers, squeezing gently.

‘But Uncle Percy said you almost died! And it would be my fault because you had to save me.’

‘I didn’t die, though, because my coaches and trainers with the Harpies taught me well, I didn’t even get badly hurt. Yes,’ she added quickly, forestalling his reply when his mouth opened, ‘I could have been. But it isn’t your fault, it couldn’t be. Part of my job as your mum, of your dad’s as well, is to protect you and keep you safe.’

His face relaxed as he thought about that, then a slight grin lifted his lips. ‘Uncle Percy was really upset.’ Ginny nodded.

‘He gets that way sometimes. And like all of us, he feels things very strongly.’

‘After Dad and Grams Tonks took you to hospital, Uncle Percy found the rock that you hit your head on. It wasn’t even very big, but he blasted it until it was sand, yelling the whole time "Not another one, not another one." Aunt Audrey made him stop, told him he was scaring all us kids.’

She continued stroking his arm softly, weighing his words. ‘Did it scare you? And not just Percy blowing up that rock, either.’

He nodded, and when he spoke she wondered again at how much like his father Al was. ‘A little, yeah. I mean, Uncle Percy isn’t, that’s not like him, Mum. He was red in the face, and yelling, and… I could see Uncle George doing that, but…’

‘George would turn the rock into a firework and blow it up that way,’ she said, and Al chuckled, nodding. She felt an insight as a memory flitted through her mind. ‘Do you remember this year, on Victoire’s birthday, when we all remembered your Uncle Fred?’ Al nodded, suddenly solemn as he recalled the day. It always felt such a mixture of joy and sadness to Ginny. ‘Uncle Percy was with Fred when he died. He feels that very strongly, Al. He doesn’t want any of the rest of us to ever go through that again.’

She watched her son mull that over and around, his expressions again so much those of the man snuggled up behind her. Then Al smiled shyly, nodding. ‘Can I stay here for a bit?’

‘Yes, for a bit,’ she replied, patting the bed next to her. He climbed on and lay down next to her over the duvet, the early summer air still warm, and rested his head on her pillow under her chin. ‘But I will wake you up and send you back to your room before your father wakes up,’ she added.

Al chuckled. ‘No worries. I don’t want to see all that early morning snogging you two do. Yuck.’ She smiled to herself, hugging him.

‘Do you really feel it’s yuckie?’

He turned his head enough to see her eyes, and shook his head. ‘I know you and Dad do that because you love each other, all you grown ups do that. Just, Roxy made me kiss her, to see why you do it, and… it only felt like touching.’ Then he shrugged, and settled in closer. She hugged her son, smiling to herself.

‘You’ll understand one day,’ she whispered, wondering if she felt ready for that day to arrive.

All the little things, she thought, though another corner of her mind wondered how little a thing reassuring her son she was all right should prove to be. Still and all, right here, warm between two people she loved so deeply, listening to their sleeping breathing so much alike, her heart swelled full with love. She belonged here. In her place and time.

And if this is only a dream , she thought, don’t ever wake me up.

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