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SIYE Time:12:17 on 28th March 2024
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Spark
By Ginny_Potter_89

- Text Size +

Category: Post-OotP
Characters:All, Harry/Ginny
Genres: Angst, Tragedy, Drama, General
Warnings: Sexual Situations
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 21
Summary: In many ways one would consider Harry Potter victorious. He had conquered the dark Lord Voldemort and managed to live. He had put many of his Death Eaters in Azkaban. He drove away the greatly feared Dementors. He saved the world from a dark fate. However, Harry Potter did not see himself as some victorious hero. Blood stained his hands -- blood that would never wash away.
Hitcount: Story Total: 4679







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Spark



 


In many ways one would consider Harry Potter victorious.


He had conquered the dark Lord Voldemort and managed to live. He had put many of his Death Eaters in Azkaban. He drove away the greatly feared Dementors.


He saved the world from a dark fate.


However, Harry Potter did not see himself as some victorious hero.


Even after he’d killed Voldemort, Harry felt guilty. He’d been forced to kill Lucius Malfoy as well. Blood stained his hands - blood that would never wash away.


Harry couldn’t bear the loss for the Light side.


He lost some of his best friends, friends that had joined the D.A.: Luna Lovegood, Seamus Finnigan, and Dean Thomas had all been murdered.


He could hardly bear to break the news to the ones they’d left behind.


Harry knew he would never know victory after hearing the heartbroken sobs of Neville Longbottom, knowing he couldn’t do anything to ease or mend the pain.


Neville had loved Luna dearly. He wanted to ask her to marry him. He wanted to start a life with her.


And it was all snatched away.


Harry would never know victory after going to every one of those funerals. . .


Even Ron and Hermione were dragged into the loss as well.


Hermione had lost her father. Ron lost Percy.


Harry knew he wouldn't know victory after the war.


In a way, from the moment his godfather had died, Harry knew he would never know real victory. . .


Harry was sorry for it all.


He was sorry for dragging everyone into that war. Sorry for all the fear it caused. For all the death. . . All because of him. Because of that dammed Prophecy.


And now, three years after the Last Battle, Harry was in hiding.


He’d been in Scotland for the past two years now, trying to adjust -- attempting to heal. . .


Harry Potter could no longer see.


In the Last Battle as the bodies of students, members of the Order, Death Eaters were spread over the Hogwarts grounds, an explosion came as Harry and Voldemort continued their vicious battle -- a battle that had gone on for sixteen years.


Beforehand, Harry knew the spell he would use was going take something from him -- force a sacrifice upon him as it drained Voldemort’s life. He had been robbed of his sight.


His eyes, once a beautiful bright green, were clouded and faintly green.


Harry hated this. He hated living in this eternal darkness.


Those at St. Mungo’s had tried to come up with a cure, but nothing had worked for him, and after twelve months worth of trying he left England.


He hadn’t seen the Weasley’s, Hermione or any other of his friends since. Remus was the only person he kept in contact with -- but Remus did not know where Harry was. Nobody did.


He’d fled away from people proclaiming him to be some righteous hero. But in some desperate way, it was a need to flee from himself.


On this winter afternoon, he sat alone in his front room, somewhere near the windows, as it was colder here than in other areas.


He’d managed to get himself a steamy mug of tea, lounging in his favourite chair for hours.


He’d thought of Ron and Hermione the most. What they were doing -- were they married, were they engaged, did they live together. Did they still see their old schoolmates? And Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, what about them? Arthur was the Minister of Magic now -- that he’d heard it from Remus.


He only received little information from Remus nowadays, as he was still working for the Order. Apparently, some Death Eaters had not been caught that night, and were on the run.


Harry constantly pondered what it would be like to see everybody again.


Hearing their voices again would hurt him. Bring him back to those wretched memories he’d pushed away for so long.


He couldn’t bear it. He wouldn’t. . .


No. After two years here, he’d managed a state of numbness. He didn’t want to feel anymore. He didn’t want to speak about how he felt.


Clunk!


Startled, Harry dropped his mug, hearing it shatter to pieces near his feet as hot liquid splashed onto his trousers.


He cursed, standing up with great care.


This was not the first time this had happened. Some reckless teens had snuck in here before, but Harry was still sharp; had they been wizards, he would have hexed them. But they were Muggles, and he didn’t want to be found by Wizarding society for using magic on Muggles.


However, he did not expect to hear a voice so familiar. He did not expect to be stunned, frozen on the spot.


He didn’t expect to hear the voice of the very woman he’d loved since he was sixteen.


“Harry,” came the soft voice of Ginny Weasley.



*~*~*~*



It felt surreal when Ginny stood outside a small cottage in the forest. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw it. She actually found it. Harry’s home.


The forest surrounded a small Wizarding village in Scotland.


She saw the smoke puffing out of the chimney, a jolt of excitement surged through her.


He was home.


Ginny hurried up the embankment to his door, only to find it was locked.


But no matter. It was locked magically.


Pulling out her wand, she pointed it at the knob and muttered “Alohomora!


A small click and she pushed the door open.


She had entered a kitchen. Just a plain, clean and empty. But a steaming kettle sat on the stove.


“Hello?” she asked.


No answer.


Ginny swiftly crossed the kitchen, her heart pounding in her throat as she entered another room -- this time warm. There was a fire. . .


And there he was.


He was sitting in a chair facing away from the fire. He was in front of the cottage windows, which were splattered with rain.


So excited and anxious to see him, she did not see the small table to her right. She tripped over it, where it hit the floor with a loud clunk!


Shit! She quickly corrected the table, but the damage had been done. She probably startled him.


There was a shatter that told her something else had hit the floor, something glass or porcelain.


She fought to keep her would-be-shaky voice in control. “Harry.”


Ginny watched him quietly, her heart beating wildly, her hands shaking terribly.


He was tall, so much taller than she remembered. But his hair was still the same -- that beautiful jet-black and all over the place.


However, she was startled when she saw his eyes.


She had known that the Last Battle had left him blind, but she never saw what they looked like.


They were no longer that beautiful green. They were nearly white, only a little bit of green.


His eyes stared about, before coming to rest on her when she shifted toward him.


“Who’s there?” he asked.


“Harry -- it’s me,” Ginny said, closing the distance between them. “Its Ginny, Harry.” She reached up to touch his cheek, making sure to be very gentle. She didn’t want to scare him.


He cupped his larger hand over hers, blinking rapidly.


And that was when he breath caught in her chest. She could feel his vulnerability, his loneliness, and his sadness.


And that wrenched her heart.


Ginny slid her hand from under his and guided it to her face, willing him to remember her. Needing him to remember who she was, what she looked like.


She patiently watched him, only closing her eyes as he fingers caressed her face. And when his thumb stroked her cheek, she inwardly shivered. He had never touched her like this, no matter how much she wished for it.


His fingers finally left her face, gently pulling at a strand of her bright red hair.


“It is you,” he said with a smile.


Ginny wrapped her arms around him in relief, biting back a sob as she caressed her cheek against his.


This was her Harry. The very man she loved for ten years.


“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she breathed in his ear. “Harry I’ve missed you so much. We’ve all missed you. I can’t believe I found you.”


He squeezed her tightly, and that’s when she broke down.


God, even if it was relieving to find him, her heart hurt so badly. She could barely take it.


She could sense how shut down he’d been. How much he was hurting.


She lost count of how many times she had cried over these years. How many disappointments she’d had in search for him.


“Shhh. . .” Harry breathed against her ear. “Don’t cry, Gin. I’m sorry.”


He drew away, his hand finding her cheek, wiping her tears away.


But she shook her head.


“I’m just so happy to see you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.


“How did you find me?”


“Remus,” Ginny answered. “I lost count of how many dead-end searches I’d had, so I begged Remus to tell me where you were in the end.”


Brushing away the last of her tears, he took her hand.


“What’s happened since I’ve been gone, Ginny?” he asked.



*~*~*~*



Lacing her fingers with his, Ginny led him across the room, carefully seating him on the couch with her.


“Well,” she sniffed, taking off her jacket, “Ron and ’Mione got engaged last night.”


“Really?” Harry asked, looking very taken by this news. “About bloody time!”


“I know,” Ginny agreed, taking his hand again. “Mum went bonkers. She was practically dancing on the roof when she found out.”


Harry grinned, gently squeezing her fingers as his hand rested in her lap.


“And last week Fred and Angelina announced that their having a baby,” Ginny went on.


“Oh, that’s great,” Harry said with a smile. “So the joke shop is doing well, then?”


“Fantastic,” Ginny said. “They’re expanding to Hogsmeade and Paris.”


“Hogsmeade and Paris?” Harry repeated. “Wow!”


“I’m not so sure Remus told you, I‘m sure he hasn‘t but -- well, he and Tonks have been seeing each other for the past two months,” Ginny went on with a little laugh.


What?!R 21; Harry said. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”


“I’m not,” Ginny said.


He mouth was dropped open for only a few moments before he closed it again. “Good,” he said. “What about Bill? How is he?”


“He’s moving back to England with Fleur.”


“Really? Why?”


“Because he’s been engaged to her for a year and finally convinced her to move to England,” Ginny said.


“What about the Order?”


“Mostly everyone has left. Remus, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Tonks and Moody are the only ones in the Order -- and Dad got them a special office in the Ministry.”


“Remus has a teaching job at Hogwarts if he hasn’t told you.”


Harry sighed as she used her thumb to stroke the backside of his hand.


“He doesn’t tell me much, and I always have to remind myself that I didn’t want to know much.”


Ginny laid her head on his shoulder.


“Harry I miss you,” she said. “We all do. It’s just not the same. . .”


Harry held her hand between both of his own.


“I know,” he mumbled.


She felt him stiffen a bit as they held onto each other’s hands, Ginny thinking of a way to convince him. To do the impossible.


She lifted her head from his shoulder.


“Then why not come back with me?” she asked.


Harry shook his head.


“No,” he said. “I -- I can’t yet, Gin. Nobody wants to see me like this.”


“Harry, it doesn’t make a difference to any of us!” Ginny argued. “You’re still Harry. Mum really wants to see you; Ron and Hermione want you to be in the wedding, Fred wants to make you his child’s godfather. We still love you, Harry. I love you.”


He stared about, his mouth a grim line.


Then his head lifted. “How? Wha--?”


“Yes, I love you,” said Ginny.


He went silent, his brow furrowed. “But Ginny, I. . . . How can you possibly --? After all this time? Ginny -- I’m useless. I can’t provide you with anything.”


“I don’t care,” Ginny whispered. “You’re not useless to me.”


“You deserve a man that can work for you, Ginny,” Harry said flatly. “One that can give you a house -- and everything else.”


Ginny shook her head.


“No,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him. “I just want you.”


Harry pulled a bit to reach a hand to her cheek. “Ginny . . .”


“You, just you,” Ginny continued to whisper. “I do love you, Harry.”


Harry closed his eyes as his hand cupped her cheek. “Ginny, I . . . I can’t.”


“Then let me prove it,” she said. “Please.”


He hesitated, but she did not back away. She gently cupped her hands around his neck and stood on tiptoe to press her lips to his.


He stiffened at the contact, so she began to move her lips against his, praying for a response.


But he was silent. So she drew away and kissed him again. She wouldn’t give up. They couldn’t just be “friends” after this.


Making a small noise in the back of his throat, his hands slid up her arms and to her neck, tilting her head upward.


He deepened her kiss pouring everything into her.


She nearly cried as she discovered his secrets. His grief. His feelings . . . were they actually love?


Ginny pulled him closer to her, wanting to be as close to him as humanly possible. If he loved her she had to know.


“Ginny . . .” he moaned, pulling away from her. “We should stop.”


She only pulled him toward her again, devouring his lips with hers. “Let’s go,” she whispered when she had finally broken away. When kissing wasn’t enough.


He did not object this time as she began to lead him away. Through the hallway and up the stairs, they reached the attic that was his bedroom. There she led him to the bed, where she gently pushed him down onto it.


Ginny was trembling with need by now. She was so taken by the fact that he cared for her. She longed for his touch, and if she didn’t have it she would soon lose her mind.


She gently took his hands in hers, guiding them to the buttons of her blouse as she stepped closer. They shook slightly as they undid each little white button slowly. She tenderly kissed his forehead as he managed the last one. His strong hands slid up into her shirt, caressing her milky-white skin as he removed the blouse. She moaned, pressing herself closer into him.


She reached down to remove his jumper and oxford shirt in one swift movement, and took a moment to stare at his beautiful form. Yes, he had some scars over his torso, but they had never been more beautiful to her. Simply because they were a blessing -- every one meant he’d survived. That he was given another chance to live. She tilted his head upward, kissing his forehead again, but this time right over his lightening scar.


“Ginny.”


From the moment he spoke she ached to be with him. She would eventually kiss and caress every one of those beautiful scars, but that would be for later.


He stood up over her, seeking her out with his hands. She allowed him to remove the rest of her clothing as she managed his belt buckle, closing her eyes as he whispered affectionate words against her temple. He stepped out of his trousers as her own jeans pooled at her feet.


She was amazed that he seemed to know her body as well as his own. He did not need sight to know all of her sensitive spots, to know what would make her arch against him, moan for more.


As they removed the rest of their clothes, Ginny lowered him to the bed. She moved on top of him, and then he was in her, and she found his pace, moving slowly and purposely. She cannot recall a time of ever being so complete. So full of love. And she never wanted it to end.


He touched her everywhere before his broad hands came to a rest on her hips as his thrusts gained speed. The whole time he kept his eyes closed. Her eyes were open as she watched him.


He moaned in fulfilment, and she came not long after.


She could feel it -- their hearts beating in unison. She was sure he could hear it thumping in her chest. She wanted him to.


Ginny rolled off of him and curled up in his arms. He groggily pressed his forehead to hers, lightly kissing her lips.


For a long while they were silent. She traced each scar across his torso, mimicking how they were probably made. She admired how well they fit together, feeling the quickened rise and fall of his chest.


“Ginny . . .”


“Hm?”


“I want to . . . I want to go.”


“Go where, love?”


“Back home.”


She sighed in relief. “Mum will be happy. . . When will you come?”


“Tomorrow,” he said.


She snuggled into his neck, and his arms tightened around her in possession.


She was getting sleepy. . . Everything would be all right now. . . He would be coming home. . . .


“And Ginny?”


“Yeah?”


“I love you.”


For a moment there was only silence and a smile.


“I love you, too.”



*~*~*~*



“Are you ready, love?”


Harry nodded as Ginny took his hand in hers.


True to his word, he had returned to England with her. They had flooed to her flat in London for a quiet afternoon before travelling here to the Burrow on the Knight Bus.


Ginny walked Harry to the door, watching him as he used his walking stick. Click, click -- clack, click.


“What it is?” Harry asked.


“Nothing,” said Ginny. “I’m just so amazed . . . how do you do that?”


He gave a knowing grin and tapped his ear.


It was so strange to Ginny that it had been raining in Scotland a week before Christmas. Then again, she didn’t live there, so she did not know the regular weather. It was snowing in Ottery St. Catchpole, though. The third snow of the holiday season. So there wasn’t much, but it was still beautiful to her. And it meant more because she was sharing it with Harry.


“Ready when you are,” was all he said as they came to a stop at the door.


She leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Everything will be okay.”


He squeezed her hand. “As long as you’re with me.”


Taking a deep breath, Ginny pushed open the back door of the kitchen, leading Harry in. He seemed to remember how everything worked in here. She glanced at him as his head turned in the direction of the family clock, then to the dishes scrubbing in the sink. His hand even drifted over the scrubbed wooden table as they passed by. Amazing.


She could hear the voices of the family in the living room. She stopped Harry as they were about to enter, hiding him just inside the door.


“Just stay here for a moment, okay?”


He nodded.


Taking another deep breath, Ginny released his hand and walked through the next room. Her mother and father were there. Her mother had her knitting needles floating in front of her, yet another Weasley sweater in the making. Her father was reading the latest Daily Prophet with a furrowed brow. And she could hear Ron’s voice in the other room.


“Hi Mum,” Ginny said. “Dad.”


Her mother got up and swept her into a bone-crushing hug. “Ginny, dear, are you all right? I was worried when you didn’t send a letter yesterday.”


“I’m fine, Mum,” Ginny said. “Sorry about that. I never got the chance.”


“All right, Gin?” her father asked as they finally broke apart.


“’Course, 221; she answered. “Are Ron and Hermione here?”


“Yeah -- we’re here.” Ron and Hermione entered the room. “Gin -- worried Mum, you did.” He gave her a hug.


“Yeah, she told me,” said Ginny as she drew away from her oldest and closest brother to hug her future sister-in-law. “How are things going with the wedding?” she asked.


“Gin -- it’s been a day!” said Ron indignatly. “But we’ve already formed a guest list,” he added grugingly.


Ginny laughed. “Good. But you might want to add one more.”


“What?”


Without a word, Ginny exited the room for a moment to get Harry. He was still standing there, hands clasped in front of him, but looked up at the sudden sounds and movement.


“Come on,” she whispered.


Taking his hand, she led him through the door and into the living room.


There was utter silence as they recognized who it was, and nobody seemed to breathe for ages. All faces were pale; the Prophet lay on the floor, forgotten.


Then tears rose in Mum and Hermione’s eyes. Even Dad’s. Ron had a slow grin lighting up his features, though he was still pale from the shock of seeing his friend after three long years.


“Surprise,” said Ginny quietly.



~End~






I wrote this fic over a year ago. I couldn't believe it when I found it while I was cleaning out my old computer and transferring files to my new one. After being my personal Beta (and adding some more to it), I decided to post it.

No, there probably isn't going to be a continuation. Simply because I have other fics to work on (a Memories and Cinderella Story update soon). But won't you please review and tell me what you think?

Thanx!
Reviews 21
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