Fic: Invisible
Title:Invisible
Rating: T for teens (13+)
Category: Harry Potter
Genre: Angst, Romance
Pairing: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione
Word Count: 2041
Summary: At the end of a year-long nightmare, Harry and Ginny struggle with their hurts and anxieties as they begin to find their way back to each other again.
Author's Notes: I wrote this at the request of rdprice29 as penance for having the audacity to write a Harry/Hermione story. She requested a story in which Ginny does not immediately forgive Harry for leaving for a year without a word. I hope I have done her request justice. I worked in the Invisibility Cloak, too, in response to this month's challenge prompt.
It was finally over. The nightmare that had begun so long ago had ended. The shadow that had hung over Ginny’s family for as long as she could remember had dissolved. Voldemort was dead. She had seen Harry kill him with her very own eyes. She should be happy, now that the end had come. But the price they had paid...the losses were almost more than she could bear: Fred, Professor Lupin, dear Tonks. And Harry, something inside her whispered. Ginny trembled as she remembered poor Hagrid, weeping uncontrollably, carrying Harry’s limp body in his arms as if he were a ragdoll. Hysteria threatened to overwhelm her again, and she glanced around the room until she found him, being led from family to family by Professor McGonagall. She had not imagined it all. He was there, alive and well.
Ginny drew a deep, shuddering breath and rested her head against her mother’s arm, content to be the baby again for the time being as she silently observed the rest of her family. On the other side of Mum was Percy, his arm wrapped around their mother’s shoulders far enough that he could clasp her shoulder, too. She glanced his way and shot him a teary smile, which he returned with a small smile of his own. Beyond Percy was Dad, who in turn had his own arm wrapped around the prodigal who had returned. Across the table were Bill and Charlie, sitting on either side of George, whose face was buried in his hands. Ginny’s heart ached for him. As much as losing Fred pained her, she knew it was George that felt the loss most keenly. The twins had been inseparable ever since she could remember, finishing each other’s sentences, sharing each other’s punishments and triumphs. She wondered if he’d ever recover from the blow.
Ron wasn’t with them. Ginny glanced around until she caught sight of his familiar mop of rust-colored hair, accompanied by a head of wildy touseled brown curls, bent together and murmuring to each other. As she watched, Ron wrapped his arms around Hermione, enfolding her completely, and they clung to each other, oblivious to the clamor and bustle around them. Watching the two of them together, Ginny couldn’t help the twinge of envy she felt, even though she was thrilled they had found their way to each other at last.
The dull, cold ache that had been with her since Dumbledore’s funeral a year ago intensified suddenly, and her eyes again sought the reason behind it amidst the throng of people in the Great Hall. Finally she spied him sitting next to Luna, exhaustion plain on his face. Every muscle in Ginny’s body tensed with the need to go and comfort him, but before she could move, Luna pointed to something in the air, and Ginny’s eyes followed. When she glanced back to Harry, he had disappeared from sight. He’s wearing the Invisibility Cloak, she realized. She sighed, unable to keep from hoping he might come to fetch her, but she knew better. She looked back instead towards Ron and Hermione. Moments later they broke apart, both focusing on a spot in front of them. Then they stood, arms still twined together, and left the Great Hall.
Once again, Ginny was left behind. Tears of hurt and frustration burned in her eyes, and she blinked furiously to keep them from spilling over. She knew she would have plenty of time to talk to Harry later, after he’d had a chance to rest, but she had begun to feel as if she were simply an afterthought to him. He hadn’t asked her to wait for him before he left last year. She was very much afraid he had moved on. She hadn’t. If anything, her feelings for him had only grown stronger over the past year. She had held on to the memories of their short weeks together as a life-line during some of her darkest hours at Hogwarts.
Maybe it was for the best if he had moved on. They would never be able to recapture the innocence of those days; too much had happened. They had experienced the deaths of friends and family. She had been tortured by the Carrows. He had killed a Dark Lord. She had thought she was over her hero-worship, but in light of the events that had taken place over the past twenty-four hours, she had begun to feel like her thirteen-year-old self again, awestruck by a green-eyed, messy-haired, bespectacled young man. He had the world at his feet, and while she knew him well enough to know that he didn’t necessarily enjoy life in the spotlight, wasn’t it possible that might change, now that he was no longer in mortal peril?
What could she, Ginny Weasley, possibly have to offer a hero?
Inadvertently, her fingers tightened in her mum’s and received a reassuring squeeze in return. Mum leaned over to whisper in her ear.
“Ginny, dear, why don’t you go home with Fleur? We may be here for hours yet.”
Ginny shook her head. “I’d rather stay here, Mum.” She couldn’t stand the thought of being left somewhere waiting yet again.
“Then at least go up to bed, dear,” Molly insisted gently. “You look completely worn out.”
Ginny couldn’t argue. She had heard the expression “bone tired” before, but this was the first time she could claim it fit. Her entire body ached, and her limbs felt limp. She didn’t know if she would be able to climb the staircases by herself. She sighed again and closed her eyes for a moment to try and muster the strength to move. The next thing she knew, she was tucked against Charlie’s chest, being carried gently through the portrait hole into Gryffindor Tower.
“The ride stops here, Ginger Snap,” his voice rumbled in her ear where it was pressed against his chest. “Can you make it up to the dormitory?”
“Yeah,” Ginny answered sleepily. “Thanks, Charlie. G’night.”
Charlie gently placed her on her feet and kissed her cheek. “We’ll be here when you wake up. There will be arrangements to make...for Fred.”
Ginny nodded wanly. “All right, then.”
Charlie glanced around for a moment, a faint smile on his face, and Ginny knew he was remembering his own days in Gryffindor Tower.
“Hasn’t changed much,” he said finally, shaking his head. He gave Ginny a quick squeeze before he stepped back through the portrait hole to return to the Great Hall.
Ginny looked around at the familiar surroundings. The common room was empty, mirroring the strange, empty numbness she felt inside. She considered the staircase to the girls’ dormitory for a moment, but it seemed like too much effort. Instead, she fell onto the nearest sofa and dragged a throw around her shoulders. Burying her face into a squashy pillow, she finally succumbed to her tears, and moments later to sleep, which was how Harry, Ron and Hermione found her.
“Oh, dear,” Hermione said. “She can’t be comfortable there.”
Harry said nothing as he gazed at Ginny, taking note of the dark circles and tear tracks under her eyes as well as the occasional hitch in her breath that told him she had likely cried herself to sleep. The last time he had been this close to her, just hours earlier, he’d had to force himself to walk away. He couldn’t do it again. Thoughts of the comfort of his four-poster bed evaporated as he moved on unsteady legs to Ginny’s side, where he lifted her gently to make room for himself on the sofa, then pulled her head against his chest. Once settled, he lifted his eyes to Ron and Hermione.
“We’ll be fine,” he said fiercely.
Ron opened his mouth as if to protest, but at a nudge from Hermione, he just nodded. “I know you will, Harry. We all will,” he said in a rough voice.
Hermione leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Get some rest. We’ll see you later.”
Harry waited until they left the common room before he pulled the Invisibility Cloak out and covered himself and Ginny with it. Next he drew his wand and murmured a Repelling Charm that would ensure no one tried to sit on them. Just as he was about to cast a Muffliato spell, he heard a familiar, deep croak.
“Master Harry?”
Harry shifted the Cloak just enough that he could peer out of it at Kreacher.
“Kreacher thought Master Harry might be hungry,” the house-elf said with a deferential bow. Harry saw that he was carrying a tray with several sandwiches, a warm mug of butterbeer, and a shot glass filled with amber liquid. Without asking what the contents were, Harry grabbed the glass and drained it in one gulp. The smooth burn of the Firewhisky seared his insides, leaving him warm and comfortable and able to push the horrors of the night's events to the back of his mind for a little while. He replaced the glass on the tray with a heavy thump and exhaled heavily.
“Thank you, Kreacher, for everything. You were very brave last night,” he said, recalling Kreacher’s charge at the head of the Hogwarts house-elves.
“It is Kreacher that must thank Master Harry,” Kreacher croaked, “for delivering us from the Dark Lord.”
“I couldn’t have done it without your help,” Harry insisted.
He reached out and patted the house-elf on the shoulder awkwardly. He thought he saw Kreacher blush as he bowed low again and vanished with the snap of his fingers, leaving the tray with the sandwiches behind. Harry’s hunger returned full-force and he devoured the first sandwich greedily. Glancing down at Ginny, he debated for a moment. He hated to wake her, but he doubted she had eaten since he had, and she was thinner than he’d ever seen her. The lush curves that had haunted his dreams were whittled down to angles and planes. Gently, he shook her arm.
“Ginny?” he whispered.
“Mmmhmm,” she murmured against his chest.
“Kreacher brought us some food. Aren’t you hungry?”
“Mmmmph,” Ginny said. When she didn’t move, Harry decided to take her answer as no. Quickly, he polished off another sandwich before ducking under the Invisibility Cloak again and stretching his legs out on the sofa alongside her. She shifted in her sleep, pressing herself closer against his side as she wound one arm behind his back and slid the other up his chest until her palm covered his heart. Harry’s arms closed around her shoulders and he rested his cheek against the top of her head.
His weariness warred against his desire to savor the feel of her body pressed intimately against his, and weariness finally won. Harry closed his eyes with a sigh. He had almost drifted off to sleep when he felt Ginny’s body tense against his. Opening his eyes reluctantly, he looked down to find her chocolate brown eyes staring up at his. They pulled him in, and suddenly he was battling the tide of her emotions along with his own: relief, love, desire, and hurt, all mingled with anger. When she struggled to push herself up away from him, he tightened his arms around her, keeping her close against him.
“Don’t, please,” he rasped, his voice froggy with exhaustion and pain. “I know we need to talk, and we will. Right now, I just want...need...to hold you. Please, Ginny,” he added again, praying she’d stay.
Slowly, she relaxed against him again as her own exhaustion won over the need to assert herself. He knew she was angry that he had asked her to stay in the Room of Requirement. He knew they were both hurting from the loss of friends and loved ones. Her scream of anguish at the sight of Hagrid carrying his body still rang in his ears, and he knew there would be a distance between them because of it, and because of the year they spent apart. But as Harry felt her arm tighten around his waist, and her palm cover his heart once more, he allowed himself, for the first time, to hope that everything would be okay.
Rating: T for teens (13+)
Category: Harry Potter
Genre: Angst, Romance
Pairing: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione
Word Count: 2041
Summary: At the end of a year-long nightmare, Harry and Ginny struggle with their hurts and anxieties as they begin to find their way back to each other again.
Author's Notes: I wrote this at the request of rdprice29 as penance for having the audacity to write a Harry/Hermione story. She requested a story in which Ginny does not immediately forgive Harry for leaving for a year without a word. I hope I have done her request justice. I worked in the Invisibility Cloak, too, in response to this month's challenge prompt.
It was finally over. The nightmare that had begun so long ago had ended. The shadow that had hung over Ginny’s family for as long as she could remember had dissolved. Voldemort was dead. She had seen Harry kill him with her very own eyes. She should be happy, now that the end had come. But the price they had paid...the losses were almost more than she could bear: Fred, Professor Lupin, dear Tonks. And Harry, something inside her whispered. Ginny trembled as she remembered poor Hagrid, weeping uncontrollably, carrying Harry’s limp body in his arms as if he were a ragdoll. Hysteria threatened to overwhelm her again, and she glanced around the room until she found him, being led from family to family by Professor McGonagall. She had not imagined it all. He was there, alive and well.
Ginny drew a deep, shuddering breath and rested her head against her mother’s arm, content to be the baby again for the time being as she silently observed the rest of her family. On the other side of Mum was Percy, his arm wrapped around their mother’s shoulders far enough that he could clasp her shoulder, too. She glanced his way and shot him a teary smile, which he returned with a small smile of his own. Beyond Percy was Dad, who in turn had his own arm wrapped around the prodigal who had returned. Across the table were Bill and Charlie, sitting on either side of George, whose face was buried in his hands. Ginny’s heart ached for him. As much as losing Fred pained her, she knew it was George that felt the loss most keenly. The twins had been inseparable ever since she could remember, finishing each other’s sentences, sharing each other’s punishments and triumphs. She wondered if he’d ever recover from the blow.
Ron wasn’t with them. Ginny glanced around until she caught sight of his familiar mop of rust-colored hair, accompanied by a head of wildy touseled brown curls, bent together and murmuring to each other. As she watched, Ron wrapped his arms around Hermione, enfolding her completely, and they clung to each other, oblivious to the clamor and bustle around them. Watching the two of them together, Ginny couldn’t help the twinge of envy she felt, even though she was thrilled they had found their way to each other at last.
The dull, cold ache that had been with her since Dumbledore’s funeral a year ago intensified suddenly, and her eyes again sought the reason behind it amidst the throng of people in the Great Hall. Finally she spied him sitting next to Luna, exhaustion plain on his face. Every muscle in Ginny’s body tensed with the need to go and comfort him, but before she could move, Luna pointed to something in the air, and Ginny’s eyes followed. When she glanced back to Harry, he had disappeared from sight. He’s wearing the Invisibility Cloak, she realized. She sighed, unable to keep from hoping he might come to fetch her, but she knew better. She looked back instead towards Ron and Hermione. Moments later they broke apart, both focusing on a spot in front of them. Then they stood, arms still twined together, and left the Great Hall.
Once again, Ginny was left behind. Tears of hurt and frustration burned in her eyes, and she blinked furiously to keep them from spilling over. She knew she would have plenty of time to talk to Harry later, after he’d had a chance to rest, but she had begun to feel as if she were simply an afterthought to him. He hadn’t asked her to wait for him before he left last year. She was very much afraid he had moved on. She hadn’t. If anything, her feelings for him had only grown stronger over the past year. She had held on to the memories of their short weeks together as a life-line during some of her darkest hours at Hogwarts.
Maybe it was for the best if he had moved on. They would never be able to recapture the innocence of those days; too much had happened. They had experienced the deaths of friends and family. She had been tortured by the Carrows. He had killed a Dark Lord. She had thought she was over her hero-worship, but in light of the events that had taken place over the past twenty-four hours, she had begun to feel like her thirteen-year-old self again, awestruck by a green-eyed, messy-haired, bespectacled young man. He had the world at his feet, and while she knew him well enough to know that he didn’t necessarily enjoy life in the spotlight, wasn’t it possible that might change, now that he was no longer in mortal peril?
What could she, Ginny Weasley, possibly have to offer a hero?
Inadvertently, her fingers tightened in her mum’s and received a reassuring squeeze in return. Mum leaned over to whisper in her ear.
“Ginny, dear, why don’t you go home with Fleur? We may be here for hours yet.”
Ginny shook her head. “I’d rather stay here, Mum.” She couldn’t stand the thought of being left somewhere waiting yet again.
“Then at least go up to bed, dear,” Molly insisted gently. “You look completely worn out.”
Ginny couldn’t argue. She had heard the expression “bone tired” before, but this was the first time she could claim it fit. Her entire body ached, and her limbs felt limp. She didn’t know if she would be able to climb the staircases by herself. She sighed again and closed her eyes for a moment to try and muster the strength to move. The next thing she knew, she was tucked against Charlie’s chest, being carried gently through the portrait hole into Gryffindor Tower.
“The ride stops here, Ginger Snap,” his voice rumbled in her ear where it was pressed against his chest. “Can you make it up to the dormitory?”
“Yeah,” Ginny answered sleepily. “Thanks, Charlie. G’night.”
Charlie gently placed her on her feet and kissed her cheek. “We’ll be here when you wake up. There will be arrangements to make...for Fred.”
Ginny nodded wanly. “All right, then.”
Charlie glanced around for a moment, a faint smile on his face, and Ginny knew he was remembering his own days in Gryffindor Tower.
“Hasn’t changed much,” he said finally, shaking his head. He gave Ginny a quick squeeze before he stepped back through the portrait hole to return to the Great Hall.
Ginny looked around at the familiar surroundings. The common room was empty, mirroring the strange, empty numbness she felt inside. She considered the staircase to the girls’ dormitory for a moment, but it seemed like too much effort. Instead, she fell onto the nearest sofa and dragged a throw around her shoulders. Burying her face into a squashy pillow, she finally succumbed to her tears, and moments later to sleep, which was how Harry, Ron and Hermione found her.
“Oh, dear,” Hermione said. “She can’t be comfortable there.”
Harry said nothing as he gazed at Ginny, taking note of the dark circles and tear tracks under her eyes as well as the occasional hitch in her breath that told him she had likely cried herself to sleep. The last time he had been this close to her, just hours earlier, he’d had to force himself to walk away. He couldn’t do it again. Thoughts of the comfort of his four-poster bed evaporated as he moved on unsteady legs to Ginny’s side, where he lifted her gently to make room for himself on the sofa, then pulled her head against his chest. Once settled, he lifted his eyes to Ron and Hermione.
“We’ll be fine,” he said fiercely.
Ron opened his mouth as if to protest, but at a nudge from Hermione, he just nodded. “I know you will, Harry. We all will,” he said in a rough voice.
Hermione leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Get some rest. We’ll see you later.”
Harry waited until they left the common room before he pulled the Invisibility Cloak out and covered himself and Ginny with it. Next he drew his wand and murmured a Repelling Charm that would ensure no one tried to sit on them. Just as he was about to cast a Muffliato spell, he heard a familiar, deep croak.
“Master Harry?”
Harry shifted the Cloak just enough that he could peer out of it at Kreacher.
“Kreacher thought Master Harry might be hungry,” the house-elf said with a deferential bow. Harry saw that he was carrying a tray with several sandwiches, a warm mug of butterbeer, and a shot glass filled with amber liquid. Without asking what the contents were, Harry grabbed the glass and drained it in one gulp. The smooth burn of the Firewhisky seared his insides, leaving him warm and comfortable and able to push the horrors of the night's events to the back of his mind for a little while. He replaced the glass on the tray with a heavy thump and exhaled heavily.
“Thank you, Kreacher, for everything. You were very brave last night,” he said, recalling Kreacher’s charge at the head of the Hogwarts house-elves.
“It is Kreacher that must thank Master Harry,” Kreacher croaked, “for delivering us from the Dark Lord.”
“I couldn’t have done it without your help,” Harry insisted.
He reached out and patted the house-elf on the shoulder awkwardly. He thought he saw Kreacher blush as he bowed low again and vanished with the snap of his fingers, leaving the tray with the sandwiches behind. Harry’s hunger returned full-force and he devoured the first sandwich greedily. Glancing down at Ginny, he debated for a moment. He hated to wake her, but he doubted she had eaten since he had, and she was thinner than he’d ever seen her. The lush curves that had haunted his dreams were whittled down to angles and planes. Gently, he shook her arm.
“Ginny?” he whispered.
“Mmmhmm,” she murmured against his chest.
“Kreacher brought us some food. Aren’t you hungry?”
“Mmmmph,” Ginny said. When she didn’t move, Harry decided to take her answer as no. Quickly, he polished off another sandwich before ducking under the Invisibility Cloak again and stretching his legs out on the sofa alongside her. She shifted in her sleep, pressing herself closer against his side as she wound one arm behind his back and slid the other up his chest until her palm covered his heart. Harry’s arms closed around her shoulders and he rested his cheek against the top of her head.
His weariness warred against his desire to savor the feel of her body pressed intimately against his, and weariness finally won. Harry closed his eyes with a sigh. He had almost drifted off to sleep when he felt Ginny’s body tense against his. Opening his eyes reluctantly, he looked down to find her chocolate brown eyes staring up at his. They pulled him in, and suddenly he was battling the tide of her emotions along with his own: relief, love, desire, and hurt, all mingled with anger. When she struggled to push herself up away from him, he tightened his arms around her, keeping her close against him.
“Don’t, please,” he rasped, his voice froggy with exhaustion and pain. “I know we need to talk, and we will. Right now, I just want...need...to hold you. Please, Ginny,” he added again, praying she’d stay.
Slowly, she relaxed against him again as her own exhaustion won over the need to assert herself. He knew she was angry that he had asked her to stay in the Room of Requirement. He knew they were both hurting from the loss of friends and loved ones. Her scream of anguish at the sight of Hagrid carrying his body still rang in his ears, and he knew there would be a distance between them because of it, and because of the year they spent apart. But as Harry felt her arm tighten around his waist, and her palm cover his heart once more, he allowed himself, for the first time, to hope that everything would be okay.