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SIYE Time:1:36 on 29th March 2024
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All Right Now
By StarlingFlight

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Category: Post-OotP
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley
Genres: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Songfic
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: G
Reviews: 5
Summary: Harry struggles to deal with Sirius' death, until Ginny gives him a little help.
Hitcount: Story Total: 1398



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.





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He’d been at the Burrow for three days. The awkward atmosphere that descended at the mere mention of Sirius’ name was becoming less palpable with every incident. The lump that rose in Harry’s throat every time someone broached the subject of his late godfather was also becoming somewhat less constricting. The hole in Harry’s chest, the gaping emptiness that seemed to have been left by the loss of Sirius wasn’t lessening, however.

What he’d told Dumbledore in the Weasley’s broom shed was true, Harry did know that Sirius wouldn’t want him to mope and he also knew that Sirius would never blame Harry for what happened at the Ministry but knowing that didn’t lessen the aching guilt that seemed to permanently reside in Harry’s core.

Sometimes he could trick himself into believing he was feeling better. When he was in the orchard playing Quidditch or when Ginny entertained them all with her impressions over dinner and he lost himself to the rumble of laughter around the table. But then Hermione would declare she was sick of playing and they’d stop or dinner would come to an end and the laughter would cease and the suffocating guilt would crawl over Harry once more.

Just this morning Harry had been in high spirits playing 2 on 2 Quidditch in the orchard with Ron, Hermione and Ginny when an apple that Bill had enchanted to act as a bludger for them had gone a little too out of control and hit Hermione smack in the middle of her nose, causing it to start bleeding profusely.

Ginny had guided Hermione - whose vision was seriously impeded by tears and blood - to the ground and Ron had rushed her off to see Mrs Weasley to fix her nose, which along with the black eye Hermione was still sporting from Fred and George’s punching telescope, was making Hermione look much scrappier than she actually was.

As soon as Harry’s feet met solid ground the cloying grief began to re-emerge, spreading throughout him like fire through a forest. Ginny’s previously sunshine yellow t-shirt was now splattered with crimson red blood and she rushed off the second she landed in order to change into something less covered in bodily fluids, leaving Harry alone.

He walked slowly to the broom shed, willing himself to appreciate the pleasant way the sun warmed the exposed skin of his arms or how the light summer breeze tickled his scalp as it ruffled his hair. Sirius was gone, but the world still spun and Sirius would want Harry to savour it.

The welcoming kitchen of the Burrow seemed gloomy after the brightness of the July sunshine in the orchard. Hermione was sat at the table with her head tipped back, a piece of tissue soaked red with blood was clutched to her nose.

Ron came bursting through the door at the opposite end of the kitchen. He was quickly followed by Mrs Weasley who was clutching her copy of The Healer’s Helpmate once again. Harry slipped past her as she began to thumb through it.

He quickly made his way up to Fred and George’s old room and quietly shut the door behind him. Despite their game of Quidditch being cut short Harry suddenly found he felt exhausted. Without further thought, he collapsed upon his bed and lay staring at the stark white ceiling.

He’d left the window ajar this morning and the light breeze Harry had been enjoying outside reunited with him. The birds were singing loudly in the tree just outside and a ray of sun had broken through the window, casting the dust mites above Harry into sharp relief. He closed his eyes beneath his glasses and let the despair overtake him.

Harry supposed he must have drifted off in the comfortable warmth of the room for he was awoken by a light tapping on the door. He knew Ron wouldn’t bother knocking so he assumed it must be Hermione. He didn’t want Hermione to think he was wallowing and give him that pitying look again so Harry quickly rolled off the bed and pulled the door open.

He was not met by Hermione or Ron, but Ginny. She’d changed into a clean white t-shirt which contrasted dazzlingly with her long red hair and she was clutching a stack of records to her chest.

“Can I come in?” She said brightly.

Harry quickly stepped aside to allow her entry, he went to close the door behind her but quickly thought better of it, realising at the last second that Mrs Weasley probably wouldn’t approve of Harry being alone in a bedroom with her daughter, even if Ginny did have a boyfriend and Harry definitely didn’t see her that way. Not that he didn’t objectively realise that Ginny wasn't unattractive, but he suspected that would simply make Mrs Weasley more protective.

“I think I’ve been harbouring some of your possessions,” Ginny said, waving the records in Harry’s direction as he turned from the now ajar door.

“My possessions?” Harry asked, confused. Growing up with the Dursley’s he hadn’t had much opportunity to accumulate a music collection.

Harry reclaimed his spot on the bed, leaning with his back against the wall and his knees drawn up to his chest.

“Yeah,” Ginny said as she settled on the twin bed across from him. “I heard mum saying that Sirius left you all his stuff.”

Harry pointed to the records which Ginny had placed beside her on the bed, the messy stack wobbled haphazardly on the unsteady surface of the mattress. “Those were Sirius'?’”

Ginny nodded. She didn’t look at Harry with pity or caution she was smiling at him. “He lent them to me at Christmas, he heard me listening to some of Hermione’s muggle music and he said I needed an education.”

Harry smiled in spite of himself. “What music had Hermione given you?”

“Whitney Houston - I Want to Dance with Somebody.”

“Wow, Hermione." Harry’s smile transformed into a grimace. "I can see why Sirius felt the need to step in.”

“I liked it!” Ginny said through a laugh. “It was good to dance to, which given the title, was the point I think.”

A vision of Ginny jumping around her grimy room at Grimmauld Place blasting Whitney Houston, her vibrant hair swirling entrancingly around her sprang fully formed into Harry’s mind. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of it.

“Did you like the stuff Sirius gave you?” Harry inclined his head in the direction of the records which had toppled into a messy spread across the bed when Ginny had jostled them too much with her laughter.

“Yeah,” Ginny said brightly. “I didn’t get all of the references obviously with them being muggle but I liked the vibe. Do you know them?”

She began to hold the records up, titles facing Harry so he could see the selection Sirius had given to her. Harry shuffled forward on the bed, crossing his legs and mirroring Ginny’s position, so that he could see better.

“He said this one didn’t used to be his favourite but he had a newfound appreciation of it since getting out of Azkaban,” Ginny said as held up a copy of I fought The Law by The Clash for Harry to inspect.

It felt as though he’d been given a gift, a joke that was so clearly Sirius’ sense of humour it could only be from him. Harry began to laugh harder than he had in months. Ginny beamed at him from across the room.

Growing up with the Dursley’s hadn’t given Harry much exposure to rock music but even the Dursley’s couldn’t control the radio and they definitely hadn’t been able to stop Harry from hearing snippets of songs that the other kids were listening to at school, even if no one had wanted to risk Dudley’s wrath by sharing their walkman with him.

As he’d entered his Hogwarts years and they’d begun to leave him the house alone more often he’d been able to listen to the radio without their interference more regularly and so he found that Sirius’ muggle music collection was at least familiar to him.

He nodded to confirm to Ginny that he recognised both My Generation by The Who and All Right Now by Free.

“Which is your favourite?” Harry asked as Ginny began casting around for the next record to show him.

Rather than answering him Ginny slid from the bed and rolled beneath it. She emerged a few moments later with an old record player. She held it at arm's length while she blew the dust off of it and then placed it on the desk in front of the window.

Harry silently watched as Ginny selected one of the records scattered upon the bed and carefully slid it from its cardboard sleeve.

She placed it on the turntable and set the needle atop it. There was silence for a few seconds as the record player began to spin and then the opening bars of Rebel Rebel floated across the room.

Ginny closed her eyes and bobbed her head to the beat as she slowly made her way back to the bed opposite Harry.

“He gave me quite a few by David Bowie, I like him,” Ginny said once she was settled amongst the record collection.

“I bet Sirius’ mum didn’t,” Harry said wryly. They caught one another's eye and began to snicker at the idea of the real-life version of Sirius’ mum’s portrait screeching at a teenage Sirius to turn off his loud muggle music.

“To be fair my mum keeps telling me to turn it down,” Ginny said wistfully.

She shuffled on the bed so the collection of records were laid out in front of her and began to examine them once more. A little line appeared between her eyebrows as she frowned down at the selections in front of her.

“No wonder Rebel Rebel is your favourite,” Harry quipped.

The crease between Ginny’s brows disappeared as she began to smile again. The record fell silent as the song came to an end and Ginny rolled off the bed once more. She changed the record with practised speed and Harry was greeted by the sound of Children of the Revolution.

Instead of going to the unoccupied bed across from Harry, Ginny took a seat beside him. The mattress dipped slightly as Ginny joined him.

She was close enough now that Harry could count the perfect smattering of freckles across her nose, they were more pronounced than usual thanks to their morning in the sun.

Ginny leaned back against the wall and let her eyes flutter closed, she hummed quietly along to the song. Harry sat watching her, feeling quite mesmerised by how at peace she looked.

He let the music wash over him, and couldn’t help but think that Sirius had once listened to this record, maybe with his dad and Lupin too. Maybe even with his mum.

The music that was filling Harry with a sense of contentment might have once done the same for his parents and even though they were separated by time maybe they were connected by little experiences. Experiences like sitting with your friends in summer and listening to music loudly enough to annoy any sensible adult in the vicinity.

“I promise that’s all of your property that I’m currently holding for ransom,” Ginny said quietly, her eyes still closed.

“You can keep them,” Harry found himself saying.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want the records. Listening to them had made him feel closer to Sirius than he had since he’d died but he didn’t want to take something away from Ginny that she obviously enjoyed.

“Do you even own a music collection?” Ginny asked. Her eyes fluttered open, they were alight with curiosity.

“Er, no,” Harry answered honestly. He hesitated for a second, not wanting Ginny to look at him with pity but he felt reasonably confident she wouldn’t so Harry continued. “The Dursley’s would never have let me listen to it when I was younger and by the time I got to Hogwarts I had other things going on and I never really thought about it.”

“Forget the orphan thing,” Ginny said casually, with a small smirk on her face. “That’s really tragic.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh. If Harry had said it to Ron he would have become awkward and uncomfortable, Hermione would have probably tried to hug him, but Ginny seemed to understand that he’d accepted the Dursley’s treatment of him a long time ago, it was nothing but a mildly annoying fact of his life now.

The song faded and Ginny got up once more to change the record. “You should keep them,” She said as she slid Children of the Revolution back into its jacket. “And next summer you have to play them as loudly as possible whenever your aunt and uncle are trying to sleep.”

They were both laughing as Ginny returned to her spot beside Harry on the bed. He knew she was right, it was the legacy Sirius would have wanted to leave behind.

“Okay,” Harry agreed. He leaned across the space between the two beds and plucked up the battered copy of Rebel Rebel. “You keep this one though.”

Ginny’s chocolate brown eyes met his, she reached out a tentative hand. “Are you sure?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, consider it an early birthday present.”

A radiant smile split across Ginny’s face. She gently took the record from Harry’s hand. “Thanks, I promise to play it loudly whenever is least appropriate.”

“Good. That’s what Sirius would have wanted,”

When he said Sirius’ name he found that the aching hole in his chest was still there but it felt smaller somehow. Sirius was still with him, in the music and in the will to fight he had left in Harry.

“GINNY! HARRY!” Mrs Weasley’s voice called from downstairs. “Turn that racket off and come to dinner!”

Ginny stood first and offered Harry her hand to pull him up from the bed. He took her hand fully expecting to have to lift himself up but Ginny was surprisingly strong and he almost toppled into her due to the force with which she pulled him.

“Leave the music on,” She said quietly, a devilish glint in her eye. “It’ll drive Phlegm mad.”

Harry realised as he followed Ginny through the door, the final verses of You Really Got Me playing behind them, that he’d smiled more in the past hour than he had all summer.

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