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We Had to Start Somewhere | ||||||
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Category: Post-OotP Characters:Draco Malfoy, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Minerva McGonagall, Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley Genres: Comedy, Drama, Fluff, General, Humor Warnings: Death Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 314 Summary: Some believe in love at first sight, but for Harry and Ginny first sight happened years ago and they're far from enamored. It seems they will have to settle for the gradual kind, the kind that drives us all mad but makes sense - in the end. Hitcount: Story Total: 84339; Chapter Total: 5561 Author's Notes: I have the absolute biggest smile as I post this, it's such a relief to come close to the end. Thanks to all who are reading this. (Title courtesey of Are We There Yet by Ingrid Michaelson. Go listen to it and be wrapped in warmth and loveliness.) |
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“Harry.” He hadn’t been sure the approaching footsteps were those he was waiting for, but he knew that voice. Opening his eyes, Harry looked up to see Ginny a few steps above him, her dressing gown belted loosely and hair long over one shoulder. She caught his gaze and then looked up past him; he hadn’t even felt Hermione passing by and now she was nearly across the room. “Tell Ron I’ll be by later?” “All right,” Hermione replied with a quick glance between the two of them. She exited the portrait hole without saying anything else, but gave Harry once last encouraging look. Ginny smoothed the dressing gown behind her and sat closer to where he was, within reach, though she didn’t reach out. “You look better,” he told her quietly. And she did; she must have seen someone who knew healing charms, as her bruises didn’t look as severe as he remembered and her cheek looked normal again thanks to the Skele-Gro. “Have you slept?” “No. You?” “No.” Harry shifted, feeling the unforgiving stone on his backside even more in his tired state. Standing, he opened his hand to Ginny’s and she clasped hers with his. Leading her to a couch against a window on a far wall, one with curtains just open enough to reveal the pale purple sky, he sat and waited for her to join him. In something like an odd, awkward dance, Ginny sat on the adjoining cushion, then shifted, folding one leg under and then both. She fidgeted, stroking her hair over one shoulder and then the other. Her eyes stayed on the room instead of him and Harry saw the faintest amount of tension in the way she held herself, how there still seemed to be so much space between them even though her clothes rustled against his. Harry watched, wondering and then with just a glimmer of understanding, pulled Ginny towards him as if granting a permission for which she would never, ever have had to ask. But he’d never told her that, had he? So he wrapped his arms around hers and tucked her head under his chin. She relaxed little, so Harry brushed his fingertips on the elbow beneath his hand and said, “Ginny, I love you.” She finally went still, for just the briefest, barest moment, the bit of time he could use to say except, but, however, to use any contraction at all. And when he didn’t take it, Harry at last felt her ease into him; Ginny’s hand opened on his chest and he felt it warm through his shirt, a talisman that kept fear from creeping in. He dropped his cheek against her hair and let out a long breath. And after she whispered, “I love you, too,” a peaceful slumber finally overcame them both. He woke to an audience that tried valiantly to pretend it wasn’t one in the first place. First years played gobstones on the carpet in front of a low fire, some older students sat in the chairs and traded conversation in mumbled tones while others behind them at the tables busied themselves with blank pieces of parchment. His eyes caught a few side glances and sheepish faces turned away quickly. They’d all left a wide berth around the sofa on which he and Ginny had slept for what must have been hours. It really didn’t matter. That in itself surprised him and made sense all at the same time. When he moved to stretch his legs, Ginny eased away from her place against his shoulder and chest. The brightness in her eyes told him she’d been the first to wake, that she’d been waiting. Then she smiled softly and said, “Bit familiar, isn’t it?” Putting his hand against her face, Harry smiled back. “Better, I think.” A steady flush rose from her neck to her hairline and it all at once delighted and troubled him. She shouldn’t have been surprised to hear something like that from him, be it with an audience or not. And even if one part of him was glad in knowing that the girl with the butter dish was still in there somewhere, another part hated how he’d held back so much from her, for so long. Ginny caught it on his expression and her brow furrowed in confusion. Dropping his hand, Harry said, “About time for breakfast, yeah?” “Yeah,” Ginny replied, blinking rapidly and then glancing out at the room. They traded another look, heavier this time with all the words they knew still had to be said. Harry busied himself with his watch when Ginny added, “I’ve got to get dressed, though.” Harry gave a quick look at himself, surprised to find sooty trainers and battered jeans, a somewhat clean shirt that he’d been passed in the hospital wing when it was all over; he closed his eyes for a moment as the last twenty-four hours came rushing forward, barreling in unhindered from the back of his mind. Breathing deep, he said, “As do I.” They agreed to meet in half an hour and Harry found himself only half reluctantly leaving Ginny behind. It wasn’t easy, knowing there was still so much to discuss, to admit and seek forgiveness for. She deserved that much, given how long he’d made her wait; even he knew the words they’d given each other wouldn’t be enough to sort the mess he’d made. He felt eyes watching his back as he climbed his stairs, but they were easily ignored. When he pushed open the door to his dormitory, however, it was hard to miss Dean standing right before him. “Hey,” Dean said with a slight tilt up of his chin. Harry nodded back, but couldn’t quite get himself to move. Instead he found himself stammering, “Yesterday, Dean, you know, um, with everything… thanks.” Eyebrows high, Dean replied, “Yeah, of course.” He wanted to say more, felt he had to say something else, but Harry only stood in place as Dean passed by him and went down the stairs. After a quick shower and shoving all the items he’d tossed out of his trunk back in, Harry made his way back to the common room to find Ginny waiting. Without missing a beat, Harry laced her hand in his and then lead her out past their fellow students and then the Fat Lady. If he was walking too fast or holding her hand a little too tight, Ginny said nothing. She kept in pace with him and, before he knew it, seemed to be guiding him to the kitchens, where he’d been intending to go all along. They spoke briefly with the house elves, received a couple platters worth of toast, eggs, jams and juices and continued onward. Despite their shared silence, their feet took them to the exact same part of the castle, to their room, unused for months and seemingly the only place they could really say something. The air between them was heavy again, not so much that scared him, but enough to make him nervous. Sitting on the floor with Ginny, Harry wrestled with his thoughts. There were so many places he could have started, but just as Ginny took a bite of jam slathered bread, Harry abruptly said, “I stole you from Dean, didn’t I?” Ginny slowly put down the remainder of the bread and brought her eyes to his. She swallowed and said, “It looks like that to some people.” Before he could say anything, Ginny continued. “But they don’t know us, you and me, or even me and Dean. There was more to it.” “Just, tell me,” Harry sighed and the picture came unbidden, Ginny and Dean standing in their dorm room. It looked different from where he sat now in a room with broken desks and dusty corners, their own safe place. In it, Dean didn’t look angry, but hurt, Ginny sad, but resolute. “How did it end?” “I broke it off,” Ginny said quietly. “Because of what I felt for you.” Of course. “But… earlier that night, you seemed… happy, that he was going to ask you to stay over break for the ball,” Harry said haltingly. Yet even as he said it, the night cleared in his mind’s eye, the false cheer in Ginny’s voice and the uncertainty that had precluded it. Ginny gave him a sad half-smile as Harry ran over the whole night and then brought his knees up to rest his forehead on them. “I got that completely wrong, didn’t I?” He’d chased after her, gotten mad at Dean, all the while the guy had just been chucked for someone else, for him. Harry groaned and banged his head against his knees again, marveling at his own foolishness. And then he’d chased after Dean again later, yelled at him in that corridor. Stupid, stupid prat, Harry thought to himself. “I didn’t mean to make you think he’d done it, Harry, I really didn’t,” Ginny’s frustrated tone matched his own, “but I couldn’t find a way to tell you that I did it. I didn’t even figure out what you thought of it until we were back here and if I told you I’d done it, I would have told you why, and it would have been terrible right then, just when we were starting to speak again and things were still so awful between us…” “It was bad off all around,” Harry bracingly agreed. “Yeah.” The quiet fell between them again and Harry took out his frustration on a particularly helpless piece of toast, tearing it to pieces before consuming it in hard, punishing bites he wished he could deliver to himself. “None of this was ever simple, though.” Ginny pushed back her vibrant hair, tied it up in an elastic and then rubbed at the base of her neck. “It took me so long to see what it was between us, mostly because I wouldn’t let myself. If the thought popped in my brain, I pushed it down, ignored it, ran from it eventually.” Harry nodded. What else could he say but that he’d done the same? “And then, Lisa,” Ginny clenched her eyes shut, flushed and covered her eyes with her hands. “Gods, Harry, I’m so sorry. All we’re talking about is us, again, and yesterday, your friend, our school mates-” Reaching out, Harry wrapped his hand around the closest part of her, just her ankle and grazed his thumb back and forth. They sighed almost in unison, but it was Harry who shook his head, “I wish it hadn’t happened, but we can’t change it, Ginny.” “You were supposed to go with her, you’d planned on going with her,” Ginny said miserably. “I was supposed to go with you,” Harry said firmly. “And if it hadn’t been for you, I don’t think Lisa and I would have been friends to begin with. And I’m glad we were.” Ginny eased her face out of her hands, eyes watered, but questioning. “Last summer, it changed a lot of things, some of them I probably don’t even know yet,” Harry said. “But what I know is that even if you and I hadn’t ended up here, that you were still the first person who tried to get me to open up to something new. And you did, I mean, I did. A little at a time, but the way Lisa became a friend to me was because you taught me how to do it.” “But you’ve had Ron and Hermione-” “And I’ve kept pretty tightly just with them for years, Ginny,” Harry explained. “Who else has there been until last summer, really?” “Neville, Luna,” Ginny started, but Harry shook his head again. “Lisa knew about us, before even Ron and Hermione, anyone. She figured it out before I tried to break off our plans for Hogsmeade, was nice about it even though I’d disappointed her. And when she saw what was between us, it wasn’t annoying like all the others. It felt good to have Lisa know. I could relax around her, we got along well, actually talked about things.” It burned in his chest as he said it, the sudden loss feeling that much sharper and painful. Hindsight was bitter in this case, how he hadn’t realized at the time, let alone told Lisa that he found her important for more than passing Potions marks. Ginny’s hand wrapped around his at her ankle, she nodded when he said, “I miss her. I hate that I’m not going to see her in class anymore, in the halls or at dinner. She’d gotten a bloke she really liked. It’s not fair and I wish I could change it, but I can’t.” He turned his hand in hers, made a study of her palm and fingers, using the time to tamp down on the ache in his throat. When he could finally gulp it down, Harry added, “But she never would have gotten so far in if you hadn’t gotten there first.” Wiping her eyes against her sleeve, Ginny said, “What’s funny is that Dean couldn’t get in far because you were there first, too.” “Yeah?” Harry lifted his face to hers. “It all came together for me that night in the Room of Requirement, during our row,” she let out a wet chuckle, “I’ll always remember how you looked, the way I was so damn angry and you were screaming that I stood by you and my head felt like it was on fire and the only thought in my mind…” His breath caught. “Was of course I do. Right then I knew, like I hadn’t let myself know or say even to myself was that I loved you. So much that it scared me, in a way that wasn’t going to change for anything or anyone.” “Of course I couldn’t let that stand,” Ginny said harshly, she pulled her hand from him, curled into herself. “I ran, like I promised myself I would never do again, but I did. It scared me too much, Harry, you saying all those things that I didn’t even know I wanted you to say, that I was special to you, and I ran like a child.” Harry moved across the stones to be closer to her, their bodies aligned drawn up knee to knee, feet to hip, as they faced each other. He dropped his palm against her opposite knee, looked on as Ginny slowly released the coil she’d made of her own body. She rested her head on his hand and directed her gaze toward him. “I tried to do the right thing, but it was so hard to see what that was. You talked about friendship and I felt like a complete and utter idiot for feeling the way I did, falling into it again, but so much deeper than I had before. Of course there was also Dean, and he’s such a good bloke and I felt ghastly that I could feel that way about someone who wasn’t him, even if it wasn’t just someone, it was you. That was what I had been fighting all those weeks we didn’t speak, the thought that I was falling into old habits, looking at you like I did as a first year, that stupid infatuation.” “It wasn’t like before,” Harry said quietly. “No,” Ginny said back. “This isn’t anything like it was before. It was more because you meant something more to me. You weren’t the famous Harry Potter, you were my friend Harry, who knew I wanted to go into the ministry and encouraged me. The boy who made me a partner in leading the DA. The idiot who tossed me in the lake. ” She cracked a faint smile. “You made me feel special in a way no one else had. It changed everything.” “You changed me, too.” He ran his hand down her hair, wrapped it around his hand, played with the heavy weight of it. “We didn’t mean for it to happen.” “It still happened, though. We hurt people. I hurt someone, someone who didn’t ever deserve it. All the same, I couldn’t pretend anymore. I ended it with Dean because it was unfair to him,” Ginny’s smile turned grim, “so when it comes down to it, I suppose I stole myself.” Harry frowned. “Can you do that?” “That’s the only way I can explain it,” Ginny said with a shrug. “I knew what I felt for you, but I didn’t break up with Dean for you. I had no idea how you felt, all I knew was that I couldn’t lie anymore. If that meant that I had to be alone, get over you again on my own as you found someone else, then so be it. That’s what I tried to do, but, well, here we are.” “You thought Lisa was the someone else,” Harry said half-questioningly. Though she sat by his side, Harry felt a different Ginny drape against him, felt the memory of a fire in front of him as she promised she’d always be there for him, for help with another girl, for anything. “Ginny, I only said yes to her because I saw you with Dean.” Horribly embarrassed at his presumption, the mess he’d made of it, Harry had to work loose his suddenly tight jaw. “I saw you in the corner with him before we left, he was apologizing and I thought you were taking him back-” “He was just letting me know what people were saying, even though he didn’t have to,” Ginny said after a moment, obviously recalling that night. “He knew, even though I didn’t tell him, he’d figured it out, stuck it out as long as he could. I think he would have ended it if I didn’t, but it still doesn’t make it right. And Lisa… “Gods, I hated myself for being jealous of her,” Ginny sighed out. “But I promised myself that I wasn’t going to mess up your chances of being happy with someone even if it wasn’t me. I never would have been able to say I’d help you if Dad hadn’t let me cry on his shoulder on Christmas.” Harry sat up with a start. “Your Dad knows?” In return, Ginny let out a sharp yelp in response. In his quick jump, Harry had accidentally pulled at her gathered hair and caught some strands in his watch. Their hands fumbled together and Harry wanted to sink into the floor when his squirming caused Ginny to curse aloud. But then Ginny let out something like a strangled laugh and Harry bowed his head, unable to believe that a grumble of laughter was starting in his own chest. Eventually Ginny pushed his grappling hand away and used both of hers to finally free her hair from his watch band. They both stopped as their eyes met and then gave in to laughter, bodies shaking, Ginny hiccupping and pretending to yank on her hair while Harry buried his head in his knees again, this time to muffle the desperate sounds his lungs and mouth were making. It wasn’t as funny as their bodies made it, but they needed it, needed the loss of breath, the absurd for just a moment. Raising his head, Harry wheezed out an apology and Ginny flapped a hand at him, all is forgiven it said. Harry grabbed it and brought it to his mouth, pressed his lips against her knuckles and that was all it took for the laughter to fade. Ginny stared at where her hand met his lips, watched as he did it again. Harry nearly continued, wanted to move forward and bring her face to his, but he forced himself to stay where he was. Taking the cue, Ginny said, “My dad knows. Not all of it, but a lot. He’s the one I was able to talk to because, well, that’s the way it’s always been.” “I never thought about that,” Harry admitted. “I didn’t think about who you talked to about it, I mean Hermione didn’t really know anything, did she?” “Merlin knows I love Hermione, but she’s too much yours to be mine, at the least with this. It was hard to talk to her about it. Even when I caught the way you were looking at me the last couple of months, you made some hope grow inside of me, when you met me that day after class, it was still hard to believe it was real. She would have pushed at me to tell you.” Harry chuckled. “She pushed at me to tell you.” Ginny met him with a wide grin and it warmed him inside and out. “Like I said, I love that girl. Even so, I was scared that I would scare you away, scared that it was casual for you when it wasn’t for me.” “It was never casual for me,” Harry said plainly. He hated himself a little right then for ever giving her that idea. But that’s what he’d done with all the hiding and sneaking around. She gave him a searching look. “When did you know?” “I was like you, I fought it.” Running his hands up and down her arm, decidedly safer than playing with her hair, Harry said, “For a long while, but I admitted it to myself when we were dancing that night. It felt… really good.” “Yes, it did,” Ginny whispered. Her face shone with it and Harry brought her hand up again, kissed the inside of her wrist. “I made a mess of it for a while, I know, but,” Harry breathed in deep, somehow still a little scared to say it aloud, maybe because he could see her straight on this time, “I love you, Ginny Weasley. I should have seen it sooner and I shouldn’t have made you wait, but I love you.” She brought him forward, touched her forehead to his. The fervent look in her eyes assured him even before she said it again. “I am ridiculously in love with you, Harry Potter.” “I’m sorry,” he said forcefully, just as much to say it as to keep from putting his mouth to hers. “For making you hide it, for caring more about what others thought, when it just doesn’t matter, it was wrong, I was wron-” Ginny kissed him then, her lips soft and forgiving all at once. Harry pulled her closer, wrapped his arms around her shoulders and brought her flush against him. She all but climbed into his lap and Harry welcomed her gratefully. There were likely more things to say, stands of conversations and misunderstandings to sort out so that they could all be laid to rest, but they could have this moment of just being with one another, their own truth laid out. She loved him. Ginny loved him. Harry drew back with a sharp intake of air. He drew his hands up and rested them against her face, so similar to where they’d once been before but already so much better. He’d lost a friend, deeply hurt another and none of that was okay, but Ginny was here, Ginny was real and even if she couldn’t fix it, Ginny’s presence made all the difference. He outlined her bottom lip with a fingertip and then brought his wide eyes up to hers. “You’re not going to tell your dad about this, are you?” Ginny laughed out loud. “Harry, my father is the least of your worries.” Maybe so. But here was a time where he could have no worries at all, if only for a little while, so Harry leaned forward and kissed her again. A/N: *throws confetti in the air* Took them (and me) long enough, huh? One chapter left, but take a moment and let me know what you thought about this one. Thanks for reading! |
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