FIC: "The Waiting"
One year ago tonight, I was standing in a long line at a bookstore ticking off the last hour before the release of DH. My Mom was visiting and she went with me, and people were dressed up (including a very believable Bellatrix), and it was so much fun.
I loved the book, but I felt, like most H/G shippers, it would have been nice to see their reunion. Fortunately, one of the best things about this fandom is that it will fill in the blanks for you. In the days and weeks that followed the book's release, a flurry of reunion fics appeared, and many of them were very, very good. But I had this idea in my head of how they would get back together, and though some came close, nothing I read was quite like I had it pictured. I had some thoughts, made some notes and happily read lots of other stuff.
Stories usually take a long time to finish themselves in my head, and this one is no exception. As the months went by, it seemed appropriate to mark the one year anniversary of DH in some way, and I decided to celebrate by posting my own reunion fic.
Thanks to
magglenagall for the fast and thoughtful beta work; thanks also to D, who got to see this story first. Any remaining errors are mine alone. Obviously, I own nothing. If you read it, I hope you enjoy it. Concrit and reviews are always welcome.
Title: The Waiting
Pairing: Ginny/Harry
Rating: G
Word Count: approx. 6300
Summary: Ginny did not think of herself as a patient person, but she was learning.
Ginny sat in her customary seat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall eating a piece of toast. She felt...numb. It seemed hardly believable that just two days ago, she had been sitting at a somewhat smaller table at Auntie Muriel's, eating porridge and watching the twins in hushed conversation. Fred had been sitting directly across from her and asked her to pass the cream for his coffee.
Fred. Fred was...dead. Fred was dead. The phrase repeated itself in her mind like some macabre nursery rhyme as Ginny looked around the vast room at nothing in particular, and everything. There were no other Weasleys in the Hall. In fact, there were not many people here at all. But Neville was there, sitting on her left, and she realized that he was talking to her.
"...and Madame Pomfrey says that Gran will be just fine and I can take her home today."
"That's great, Neville." Madame Pomfrey must have worked on Neville too, for the wounds on his face had disappeared. His hair was still long, though, and Ginny thought he bore the unmistakable look of a boy who had grown up.
"You were really amazing, you know. Killing that snake and everything."
He blushed faintly. "Well, Harry told me to. I saw him on the grounds while we were moving some of the wounded inside and he said if he was busy and I had a chance to kill the snake that I should."
Busy? Busy? Ginny mused. More like dead. Or playing dead. Ginny wondered if somehow Harry had planned faking his own death.
"What do you think you'll do next?"
"Dunno. No idea if there will be NEWTs or not, but Professor Sprout said she knows a couple of Herbologists that might take me for an apprenticeship. 'Course, I want to make sure Gran is settled at home first."
"She'll be fine, Neville. She's got you. And you're going to be a brilliant Herbologist."
This was to be her final day at Hogwarts until next year. The last of the dead were being removed from the castle, and she would return to the Burrow to help her family prepare for the funeral.
She had not seen Harry since shortly after the battle. He had been here, in the Great Hall, comforting the wounded and talking to families that had lost someone. And then he had been gone - again. Luna told her later that he had gone up to Dumbledore's office with Ron and Hermione (of course), and after that, she guessed, to get some rest.
A cracked voice Ginny had been longing to hear shattered the pleasant silence between her and Neville.
"Can I sit here?”
Ginny’s mouth went dry and she stopped chewing. She did not need to look to know who asked the question. Why did he have to say it like that? If he'd said "Is this seat taken?" or "Anyone sitting here?" she would have had a snarky reply ready. As it was, she could only nod her head.
His clothes made a swishing noise as they brushed against her, and she felt the space on her right heat with his warmth. He greeted Neville and acknowledged the few others at the table, but Ginny couldn't hear what he said above the pounding of her heart.
This was it - the moment. She was here with Harry, and Voldemort was dead.
She had no idea how to start.
Harry reached out and took a piece of toast from the rack. Unconsciously, Ginny passed him the marmalade that she knew was his favourite.
She decided to start with the truth. Leaning into him just a bit, she whispered in his ear, "I'm glad you're not dead."
His knife stopped making sweeping motions across the bread, and a smile ghosted across his mouth before he turned to look at her; she read the question in his eyes. Do you still...?
Still what? she wondered briefly. Do I still think you're a prat for not wanting me to fight? Still catch my breath and feel lost when I think of Fred, which is about three or four times a minute? Still wish that I had been able to go with you? Still want to hit you for leaving my room last summer? Still like you?
For all of those questions, and more, she had an answer, the same answer. A blazing look. Yes.
"And I'm glad you're not dead. That curse from Bellatrix almost got you."
"You saw that?"
"Yeah, I was under the invisibility cloak. I saw the curse almost hit you, and I was going to come and help when...."
"Mum stepped in?"
He nodded. "And how."
She didn't want to say it because they were actually having a conversation and it was going well, but she just couldn't keep him from her mind for long. She was glad Harry wasn't dead. She just wished Fred wasn't dead.
"Mum told me she wished she could have saved Fred too."
Harry nodded. "Me too. I mean...I guess we all wish that." He looked down at his plate, toast still in hand. "But no one could've; that explosion came out of nowhere. George reckons we're lucky it didn't take us all out."
Ginny looked at Harry looking at his plate. She shouldn't have been surprised when she saw a tear pooling at the corner of his eye, but she was. She wanted to touch him and tell him not to feel guilty about Fred, that he and George had both been keen to go at the first sign of battle, but she knew it wasn't right. Harry wouldn't want her trying to reassure him after everything that had happened. At least she didn't think so.
"Harry -"
Shaking his head slightly and blinking, he turned to look at her. "You know, Ron's talking about trying to help George with the shop for a while."
She didn't know that. She knew a lot about Fred and George and a bit about what was going on at the Ministry from her dad. She knew what it felt like to be trapped at batty Aunt Muriel's when there was a war going on, but there were all kinds of things she didn't know. She suppressed her anger at once again being the baby sister, the one who was always left out. Maybe that was one of the reasons she missed Fred so terribly. He and George had never made her feel left out the way Ron could, at least not in a long time. And they hadn't teased her about her crush on Harry since first year.
"No. I didn't know," she said crisply. "But," she continued, a little more gently, "it's a brilliant idea."
There was a humming silence, and she was reminded of the noise her dad’s Ford Anglia used to make when the engine was running but it wasn’t going anywhere.
"So," said Ginny, relying as she so often did on humor to carry her through a difficult moment, “what does one do the day after becoming the savior of the wizarding world?"
Harry chuckled. "Well, there's this witch I need to talk to. She used to be my girlfriend, but -"
"Harry! There you are!" It was Percy. "Hi, Ginny," he said cursorily before turning his full attention to Harry. "Kingsley, I mean, the Minister, wants to see you straight away for debriefing. Ron and Hermione are already at the Ministry."
"I was just eating some breakfast -"
"No need! There is plenty to eat at the Ministry. Just come with me; we really mustn't keep him waiting." As Percy tugged on Harry's robes, Harry grabbed his toast and got up to follow.
Ginny watched his back as he walked behind Percy. She'd gone from feeling numb to hopeful to annoyed in less time than it took to eat a piece of toast. Was it really too much to ask for five minutes alone with her maybe-soon-to-be-again boyfriend without being interrupted?
As she watched, Harry turned and gave a little wave and half a smile.
It wasn't much, but it was something. It seemed that they at least had an understanding, and that was enough for now. She could wait.
*
She found him alone at the edge of the garden sitting on the fence and hopped up to sit next to him.
"So, Sis, you must be the designated George sitter for the morning," he said without looking at her.
She couldn't deny it. Mum had asked her to keep an eye on George while she and Dad went to make final funeral arrangements. Percy was still at the Ministry with Ron, Hermione, and Harry; Bill was at work, and Charlie was still at Hogwarts helping Hagrid round up escaped magical creatures. That left the two of them here on the fence.
"Mum's just worried about you." She paused. "So am I."
"You afraid I'm going to do something rash without Fred around to be the voice of reason?" he quipped. She admired the effort, but she wasn't fooled.
"I noticed all the Firewhiskey was gone."
"And we have the best hangover potion on the market."
"George-"
He held up his hand. "Please, no lecture. I promise not to make a habit of it."
They were quiet for a moment.
"I just wish it didn't have to be him."
George arched his eyebrows. "Who, then?"
"Oh, I don't know." She let out a long breath. "I wouldn't have been too sad to see Malfoy snuff it.”
George almost laughed. "Me either. But, as hard as this is to say, I'm actually a little relieved that it was one of us and not you."
She gave him an incredulous look.
"I'm serious. Mum would have killed us both if anything had happened to you. And even if she didn't, we'd have had to put up with Harry moping about." He put his finger to his lips in mock thought. "Now, there's a bloke that might fall into the Firewhiskey and never come out."
She sighed. "I don't know how much Harry would mope. I'm sure Ron and Hermione would be there to comfort him."
George rolled his eyes and adopted that big-brotherly voice that was so familiar to her. "Ginny, give him a chance. He just defeated Voldemort, for Merlin's sake."
"But he's been gone almost a year. How long do I have to wait?" She hated the adolescent tone of her voice, but she couldn't control it.
"Not much longer, I'd wager."
"It's hard seeing him again, but not being able to talk to him. Not knowing if he's still...interested. If he ever gave me a thought." She shook her head, trying to refocus her thoughts. "And now listen to me, whinging on about my ex-boyfriend, when my brother is..."
George shook his head and interrupted. "Don't. Fred wouldn't expect any less than for you to whinge on about Harry." He turned to look at her fully.
"Listen to me, Ginny. It's not a big surprise. We talked about it all the time. What would happen if one of us...didn't survive.
"It could have been worse," he continued. We could have been captured by Death Eaters, tortured, or sent to Azkaban. It's a wonder we lasted as long as we did."
She knew he was right. Other than Fred and George themselves, she alone knew the lengths to which they had gone to sabotage orders from known Death Eaters and how instrumental they had been in broadcasting Potterwatch and how much merchandise - protective cloaks and charms, Peruvian Darkness powder, anything that might be useful - they had donated to trusted Aurors and Muggle-borns in hiding. She had worked to fill legitimate orders while they spent most of their time on covert operations.
"But still..." She couldn't keep the tears from falling.
George leaned over and hugged her. It was a warm, strong comforting hug that she didn't want to end.
"I know," he told her, and she felt his chest convulse. "I miss him, too. You can't even imagine. I've started avoiding mirrors because I can't look at myself."
"What will you do?" she choked out through the snot and the tears.
"What I was doing before." He relaxed his hold a little before continuing. "Run the shop. Maybe branch out into Hogsmeade when Hogwarts reopens. Ron said he'd like to help. He won't be as good as you, of course, but you know, that boy's got potential."
Ginny smiled in spite of herself.
"I'll be okay, really," he assured her. "And look at the bright side: now I might have a shot with Angelina."
*
The next day, Ginny was sitting on the small wooden pier that jutted out into the pond at the Burrow.
She still had not seen Harry since he walked out of the Great Hall, and annoyance was giving way to despair. Harry, it seemed, was always going away from her.
To Hogwarts on the train that first time.
To the Dursleys.
To Hogsmeade with Cho.
To those damn detentions with Snape.
To find Voldemort.
She knew, of course, that Harry had not gone after Voldemort because he wanted to leave her. He had only wanted her to be safe, and even now, she couldn’t shake the notion that his desire for her safety wasn’t just a noble thing, it was because he really cared for her the way she cared for him. It was the only thing that had kept her from screaming at him in the Room of Requirement when he made it clear that he didn’t want her to join the fight.
Then, after all that he'd been through, he’d walked away again. Maybe she'd misread the look in his eyes.
The swinging motion of her toes in the water created ripples that kissed the shores of the pond and then ricocheted and came back to her. She grinned a little as the thought struck her - maybe Harry would come back to her.
What if he did? It didn’t mean that he would stay. One thing she’d learned from their brief time together was that it was hard to be with someone that you knew would leave, someone that had a mission. And even though Harry had completed that mission, there would be others. He’d told her he wanted to be an Auror, an occupation full of opportunities for him to leave - or be taken from - her.
She had to admit, though, that as often as he’d left, he had always come back. There were times he’d even sought her. There was the Chamber of Secrets, of course, but there were other things too. Like when he came to ask her if she would pick up the dragon hide Keeper’s gloves for Ron while she was in Hogsmeade. He wanted them to be a surprise and didn’t want to keep them in the boys’ dormitory until Christmas. When they'd been dating, he would come and wait for her to get out of class when he had a free period. And he had sought her out at breakfast that morning that now seemed a lifetime ago, but had really only been two days.
Her heart leapt when she heard a noise behind her, but turning around she saw that it was Hermione.
"Hey." She tried not to sound disappointed.
"Hello." There was a prolonged silence as Hermione kicked off her shoes and dangled her feet in the water next to Ginny's. "Harry said to tell you hi and that he should be here later - hopefully by dinner."
Ginny was glad for the news but didn't acknowledge it. "How are you?"
"Tired. It took a long time to tell them everything."
"If you told them everything, how come Harry is still there?"
"Well," said Hermione, "Harry had a little more to tell - you know, what happened in the Forest and all."
No. Of course she didn’t know. She didn’t know because no one would tell her a bloody thing.
"And," Hermione continued as she picked a thread on her skirt, "Harry did use two Unforgivables. I don't think he'll be punished, but they're asking a lot of questions."
Punished? The thought was ludicrous to Ginny. ""They would actually think about sending him to Azkaban after what he did? Defeating Voldemort and everrything?”
"No! No, I really don't think so." But Hermione's confidence in the Ministry wasn't what it once was, and she didn't sound sure to Ginny.
*
Harry was not at the Burrow for dinner, or later, but he did show up while the family was eating breakfast the following morning. Mum began fussing over him immediately, and he was flanked by Ron and Hermione at the table. Really, it was too crowded in the kitchen, thought Ginny, and she slipped quietly upstairs.
She hadn’t been up there long when she heard a tentative knock at her door.
Ginny was sitting on her bed, legs stretched in front of her. "Come in."
When Harry walked in, Ginny almost told him to leave; this couldn't end well. They would be interrupted, or he would have to leave for some important reason, or some stupid one, and she would throw a fit. Or a broom. Or a well-aimed hex.
He sat at the foot of her bed and looked out the window.
Taking a deep breath, he said, "I'm really sorry. I had no idea that would take so long."
"Are they sending you to Azkaban?"
His head turned sharply to look at her. "What? No. Why?"
“Hermione said they were questioning you about the Unforgivables. It seems ridiculous that they would even care given everything else that happened, but I was afraid you'd be going away again." She tried to keep the plea from her voice.
"No. I plan to spend the rest of my life not going away again." He didn't seem to realize what he'd said until the words were out, but he also did not try to take them back. He was looking at her steadily.
"Will you tell me what happened? What you did while you were gone?"
"Yes. I'll tell you everything. I promise. But later, okay? I just want to think about something else for awhile." He lay back on the bed. Together, they made an upside down T shape. Her toes grazed his belt before she moved them up a little to rub the side of his torso with her foot. He put his hand on her foot and began gently stroking it with his thumb.
It felt so nice. Ginny didn’t know how long they lay there, connected hand to foot to chest, before they were startled by a loud knock at her door. She groaned loudly as Bill walked in.
"Harry? Oh good, you're still here. You need to come with me to Gringotts. Seems that some of Bellatrix's inheritance may go to you as an heir to the Black estate. Maybe Andromeda too. It's complicated. And they won't let me get any gold from your vault...."
Harry made a motion to get off the bed, and she felt the sharp edge of impending separation as clearly as if someone had handed her the tip of a knife. Then inspiration hit and she grabbed his hand. "Wait. Can I come with you? We'll be in Diagon Alley anyway, and you probably need some new dress robes for his..." She couldn't bring herself to say the word. "Well, I expect there will be a lot of..."
Unexpectedly, Harry's whole face lit up and he squeezed her hand. "That would be brilliant," he said.
*
It did not take Harry long at all to tell anyone at Gringotts who would listen that, inheritance or no, he would not accept a Knut of the Lestranges' gold. Narcissa arrived at some point with a copy of Bellatrix's will, and though this should have simplified things, the unknown whereabouts of Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange presented a problem. In the end, Gringotts froze the assets in the vault and ordered a complete inventory, something everyone admitted would be difficult given the current state of the vault and the dungeon in general.
Ginny had seen Narcissa enter the bank and heard the raised voices in the conference room. She was pacing nervously and chewing the nail off her left thumb when Harry emerged from the room and reached her in three long strides.
"Come on," he said, grasping her elbow with his hand and steering her toward the large entrance doors. "Let's get out of here."
They squinted hard against the bright daylight as they descended the steps and turned in the direction of Madame Malkin's.
The sign said "Robes for All Occasions," but it seemed that there was only one occasion that the wizarding world needed robes for right now. The mannequins in the shop window all wore black, and the shop was so full, there was a small crowd of people waiting outside to get in.
Harry saw them first and came to a complete halt.
"Oh, no," he said. "This was a mistake."
"Why?" asked Ginny, puzzled.
"Because I've spent the last three days talking to people and telling them what happened, accepting their congratulations and offering comfort. I'm just not up for more right now."
"Harry, think how much it would mean to them to see you." She, who had waited so long to be alone with him, could not believe that these words were coming from her mouth. But she knew they were true. "They're all here because they know someone who died, and you being here would remind them that whoever it was died for a really good reason."
"You'll stay with me?" There was an earnest look in his eyes, and he reached out and touched her cheek briefly with his index finger. He seemed to be asking for something more than her company while he shopped for clothes. “Please?”
"Of course." He grasped her hand and interlaced his fingers with hers as they joined the small crowd.
When she saw him, Madame Malkin insisted that Harry be served first, and no one objected. She fitted him in an elegant set of black dress robes, edged, at Ginny's suggestion, in emerald green.
She refused to let Harry pay for his robes and had turned her attention momentarily to another customer when Harry put a finger to his lips and grabbed Ginny's hand again. He pulled her into a small stockroom and covered them both with his invisiblity cloak. "Let's see if we can find a back way out."
Circling around the building and once again on Diagon Alley, they began walking along the street, and without paying much attention, had soon come to Eeylops Owl Emporium. Harry stopped and put a hand on the window in front of a snowy owlet caged and on display in the window. Ginny had not seen a look like that on his face since Dumbledore died, and it broke her heart all over again to see it now.
"Do you want to go in?" she asked quietly.
He shook his head. "Not yet."
After a moment they began walking again, and in front of Number 93, they both stopped. The windows were still adorned with brightly coloured advertisements for Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes products, but some of them were peeling back from the windows at the corners. On the door, there was a simple, hand-lettered sign that said, "Closed due to a death in the family."
"Come on," Ginny said suddenly, tugging Harry into the small alley by the shop. "Someone needs to feed the Pygmy Puffs."
She drew her wand and tapped a sequence of bricks on the side of the building; a doorway appeared, and they walked inside the shop.
"How did you...?" Harry began.
"Fred and George showed me. Lee knows too. They wanted to make sure that a few people could get in in case anything...happened."
Without people or product displays to hinder them, they moved easily through the shop.
"It looks like they moved everything out," said Harry, gesturing to the empty shelves.
"Most of it," Ginny replied. "But Aunt Muriel absolutely refused to let the Puffs in her house. Except for Arnold. It was more dangerous to keep them at the Burrow than here, so they stayed." Harry followed her behind the counter into a room with a narrow set of stairs at the back. She kept talking as she led him up the stairs. "We put them in a room upstairs to keep them safe. Someone checks on them every few days, leaves food and water out, that sort of thing. They've done better than we thought they would. There were two new litters last time I checked."
"Which was when?"
"Last week. We took turns coming. They wouldn't let me come alone, but the Puffs like women better, so it always went faster when I was here."
They set to work, cleaning cages and counting, making notes on elaborate charts. Ginny refused to dwell on the fact that Fred had been with her the last time she was here, and she made a mental note to bring more food next time as supplies were running low.
A pink baby Puff wiggled its way into Harry's shirt and made them both laugh. Ginny knew it was the first time she had laughed since the battle, and for a moment, she allowed herself to feel hopeful again. She even smiled.
Harry held her gaze. "Ginny, I know this may not be the best time to talk, but-"
They both startled and drew wands at the soft pop of Apparition in the room. "Harry?" called Charlie. Ron was with him.
"Thank Merlin," Charlie continued once everyone had put their wands away. "Mum nearly had kittens when Bill came back without you two."
"What are you doing here?" Ginny demanded.
"George asked us to check on the shop and the Pygmy Puffs."
"Done and done," said Ginny. "Now you can go tell Mum that you found us and...."
"Not so fast, little sister," Ron chimed in. "We've all been ordered to Aunt Muriel's to clean out our things and eat lunch."
*
Ginny stood in her room at Aunt Muriel's trying to figure out what to pack first. An open school trunk lay on the bed. It shouldn't have been difficult; she really didn't have that many things here, and yet she couldn't bring herself to begin leaving the last place that she had lived with Fred, the last place where her family had felt whole even if they weren't all together. When Mum came to tell her that lunch was being served, she felt grateful for the reprieve.
It was a somber affair; everyone sat around the table quietly and pretended to eat, but even Ron had left food on his plate. What conversation there was centered on the logistics of the funeral and the fact that an increasing number of reporters were hanging around the Burrow trying to get an interview with the famous Harry Potter. In an effort to spare the Weasleys from having to grieve in front of the press, Harry had offered to stay at Shell Cottage for a few days.
Well, that's just perfect, thought Ginny. Who needs brothers to interrupt when Harry himself has just volunteered to go away again?
Now eager to leave Aunt Muriel's, she returned to her room and started throwing clothes into the trunk. This room was large and luxurious, much nicer than her room at home, or even at Hogwarts. She had her own loo and silk sheets to sleep on, and there was plenty of delicious food cooked by house-elves. It didn't matter, though. None of those things could make her happy in the dark days when she lay on the soft bed and worried about Neville, and Luna, and ...them.
Her mother had always told her that money can't buy happiness, and though Ginny believed her, she'd always secretly thought that if you had enough money, it could at least keep you from being unhappy. Now she knew how wrong she was. If she hadn't had Fred and George to keep her occupied, she'd have gone completely nuts in this room.
Lost as she was in her musings and hurried packing, she didn't notice Harry enter the room.
"Need some help?" he asked softly.
Now she was torn. Happy to see him, but knowing that he was leaving again, and angry that leaving seemed to be so easy for him. She shrugged and tossed a Quidditch glove into the trunk.
"I thought you were helping George."
Harry nodded. "We finished most of it. It's ...weird. Seeing Fred's writing and all those boxes of stuff. I kept waiting for him to walk in the room."
"I know." Her voice was barely a whisper.
"Anyway," he went on in a lighter tone, "George sent me in here to help you...if you want."
Ginny couldn't help but smile. Thanks, George. She shrugged again.
Harry drew out his wand and with one swift stroke Summoned the rest of her belongings. She watched as all of her things began arranging themselves neatly in her trunk; books on the bottom, then clothes, and on top, a small, unmarked white bottle.
She bent over the trunk and picked up the bottle of Lactating Lotion that she had brewed for Tonks. It was such a small thing; it really should not have had such an enormous effect, but seeing that bottle, knowing that Tonks would never hold it or the baby she’d needed it for again, made something in Ginny break. It wasn't just Fred she was mourning, it was Professor Lupin and her friend Tonks and her boyfriend Harry who had left her almost a year ago and was now back, but about to leave again.
She willed herself not to cry. She would not cry. She would not. Not now. Not in front of him.
So she looked up to see him looking at her, and they stood, not touching, looking at each other over an ocean of grief. And Ginny did not feel numb, or hopeful, or annoyed, or desperate. She felt terrified. What if, after everything that had happened to them both, after all of the loss, they couldn't find a way to be together? What if there were things she wanted or needed to know that he couldn't or wouldn't tell her? How could she tell him about what the Carrows did without making him feel guilty? How could she explain the ache in her heart without scaring him away?
She tried to tell herself she was being irrational, but the cold chill on her arms and the shaking hand that still held the bottle belied her.
Harry seemed to sense the change. He moved toward her, closing the gap and catching the bottle as it fell earthward.
"Ginny...are you all right?" He set the bottle down on the table by the bed and put both arms protectively and gently around her.
She tried to explain. "It's just...I had saved that for Tonks and now...." He tightened his embrace.
"Huh-hem." The sound of a clearing throat that did not belong to her or Harry changed the mood abruptly.
"I'm sorry, but Bill's ready to take Harry back to the cottage, and Dad says we need to leave soon too."
Where is my wand? she thought. It had been so long since she'd cast a Bat-Bogey Hex. Though it really wouldn't be nice under the circumstances. They were a grieving family after all, and George was the one who'd sent Harry to her room in the first place.
Harry said, "Thanks, George. We'll be down in a minute. I just-"
" - want to snog my sister?" George finished. "I'm sure you do. But make it quick. Mum'll be up here after you if you don't get down there soon." And with a wink, he was gone.
Harry looked at her and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "It will get better," he said. "It'll be okay." She wanted to believe him, but it seemed unlikely. It also seemed that a relationship with Harry was doomed for any number of reasons, all of which were manifesting themselves today, and she had been foolish to think otherwise. Maybe she should just give up after all. She released her hands from around his waist and closed her trunk.
Outside, Harry walked over to her in front of her remaining family and kissed her again, this time on the cheek. He squeezed her hand and said, "I'll see you tomorrow.” She could, at least, believe that.
After Bill and Harry Disapparated, Ron left Hermione's side for a brief moment. Ginny was surprised to see that he looked truly sympathetic. He even gave her an awkward hug. She took a deep breath and prepared to go home and try to get some rest for tomorrow. It was going to be a long day.
*
She sat on the cliffs outside Shell Cottage, arms wrapped around her knees, looking out over the sea. She could not know it, but she was sitting in the very place where Harry had so often sat in the weeks before now when he wanted to be alone. It was a cool, gray, rainy day, appropriate for a funeral, and the sea mist clung to her hair.
Like the ocean that splashed against the rocks, missing Fred was something that came in waves. She would feel his absence like water filling her lungs and driving out all air, and just when she couldn't take it anymore, the pain would subside and the water would recede, just enough for her to take another breath. In, and out. Sometimes now, she could go for a whole five, maybe ten, minutes without thinking about him. And then a fresh wave would breach and crash to the shore inside. She would feel herself being pulled under by the current, and then she would surface again, gasping and clinging to life.
Fleur had invited people over after the funeral. It was supposed to be just family, but Harry was there, of course, and Andromeda had stopped by with baby Teddy. Seeing Teddy had been an unexpected delight. He was so new and perfect. She caught Harry looking at her with a sort of glazed expression when she was holding him, rocking him slowly as he slept. She'd held him for a long time, watching her family and loved ones buzz about her. When Teddy woke, hungry, she had pressed him into Harry's unwilling arms along with a bottle. He was uncomfortable at first, but he soon got the hang of feeding, and when Teddy's hair turned black and spiky and a small mark appeared on his forehead, a look of pure awe washed over Harry's face. She felt a spark of joy at that, but when she happened to glance at George, a riptide of grief grabbed at her ankles. It was as if someone had thrown her a life raft, and she couldn't reach it.
She said her goodbyes to Ron and Hermione quietly in the kitchen and then snuck out the door. They were headed to Australia to find Hermione's parents. Ginny felt very lucky to have the chance to say goodbye to Ron this time, and she realized with a stab of shame that she had talked to him even less than she had talked to Harry in the past week. It occurred to her that Harry might be going with them, and she had not said goodbye to him. She wasn't sure if she could.
Suddenly, her cloak felt dry and warm. She looked around to see Harry standing behind her, wand drawn. He must have cast a Heating Charm. "Can I sit down?"
"Yes. Of course."
Instead of sitting next to her, he sat close behind her, so that his arms were wrapped around her knees too, and his hands covered hers. She leaned her head back into his shoulder.
"Ron and Hermione just left."
"You're not going with them?"
"No. I told you. I'm not going away again." She closed her eyes and felt something solid, like a life raft, nudging her.
"Where's Bill?"
"Inside helping Fleur with the dishes."
"And Percy?"
"With your dad and George. George wants to open the shop again tomorrow."
"Charlie?"
"At the Ministry, trying to get asylum for the dragon. He wants to take it back to Romania."
"So, you're saying that none of my brothers are around to interrupt?"
She could feel Harry grin.
"Yeah, I guess that's what I'm saying."
She wanted to turn so that she could see him, and kiss him properly, but just then he intertwined his fingers with hers and squeezed gently. She settled for lifting his hand to her mouth and giving it a soft kiss.
He kissed her neck just as softly. His breath was warm in her ear but sent a cold shiver up her spine. "I've missed you," he said. "So, so much."
"I missed you too. You have no idea."
"Do you think - Do you think we can be - ?"
"Yes. Yeah, I think we can."
She closed her eyes again and felt the weight and reality of him behind her, all around her really. She could feel his heart beat against her back, and she clasped his hands just a little tighter, and hung on. It was enough to keep her head afloat in the current. The tide was going out for now. The wait was over.
I loved the book, but I felt, like most H/G shippers, it would have been nice to see their reunion. Fortunately, one of the best things about this fandom is that it will fill in the blanks for you. In the days and weeks that followed the book's release, a flurry of reunion fics appeared, and many of them were very, very good. But I had this idea in my head of how they would get back together, and though some came close, nothing I read was quite like I had it pictured. I had some thoughts, made some notes and happily read lots of other stuff.
Stories usually take a long time to finish themselves in my head, and this one is no exception. As the months went by, it seemed appropriate to mark the one year anniversary of DH in some way, and I decided to celebrate by posting my own reunion fic.
Thanks to
magglenagall for the fast and thoughtful beta work; thanks also to D, who got to see this story first. Any remaining errors are mine alone. Obviously, I own nothing. If you read it, I hope you enjoy it. Concrit and reviews are always welcome.
Title: The Waiting
Pairing: Ginny/Harry
Rating: G
Word Count: approx. 6300
Summary: Ginny did not think of herself as a patient person, but she was learning.
Ginny sat in her customary seat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall eating a piece of toast. She felt...numb. It seemed hardly believable that just two days ago, she had been sitting at a somewhat smaller table at Auntie Muriel's, eating porridge and watching the twins in hushed conversation. Fred had been sitting directly across from her and asked her to pass the cream for his coffee.
Fred. Fred was...dead. Fred was dead. The phrase repeated itself in her mind like some macabre nursery rhyme as Ginny looked around the vast room at nothing in particular, and everything. There were no other Weasleys in the Hall. In fact, there were not many people here at all. But Neville was there, sitting on her left, and she realized that he was talking to her.
"...and Madame Pomfrey says that Gran will be just fine and I can take her home today."
"That's great, Neville." Madame Pomfrey must have worked on Neville too, for the wounds on his face had disappeared. His hair was still long, though, and Ginny thought he bore the unmistakable look of a boy who had grown up.
"You were really amazing, you know. Killing that snake and everything."
He blushed faintly. "Well, Harry told me to. I saw him on the grounds while we were moving some of the wounded inside and he said if he was busy and I had a chance to kill the snake that I should."
Busy? Busy? Ginny mused. More like dead. Or playing dead. Ginny wondered if somehow Harry had planned faking his own death.
"What do you think you'll do next?"
"Dunno. No idea if there will be NEWTs or not, but Professor Sprout said she knows a couple of Herbologists that might take me for an apprenticeship. 'Course, I want to make sure Gran is settled at home first."
"She'll be fine, Neville. She's got you. And you're going to be a brilliant Herbologist."
This was to be her final day at Hogwarts until next year. The last of the dead were being removed from the castle, and she would return to the Burrow to help her family prepare for the funeral.
She had not seen Harry since shortly after the battle. He had been here, in the Great Hall, comforting the wounded and talking to families that had lost someone. And then he had been gone - again. Luna told her later that he had gone up to Dumbledore's office with Ron and Hermione (of course), and after that, she guessed, to get some rest.
A cracked voice Ginny had been longing to hear shattered the pleasant silence between her and Neville.
"Can I sit here?”
Ginny’s mouth went dry and she stopped chewing. She did not need to look to know who asked the question. Why did he have to say it like that? If he'd said "Is this seat taken?" or "Anyone sitting here?" she would have had a snarky reply ready. As it was, she could only nod her head.
His clothes made a swishing noise as they brushed against her, and she felt the space on her right heat with his warmth. He greeted Neville and acknowledged the few others at the table, but Ginny couldn't hear what he said above the pounding of her heart.
This was it - the moment. She was here with Harry, and Voldemort was dead.
She had no idea how to start.
Harry reached out and took a piece of toast from the rack. Unconsciously, Ginny passed him the marmalade that she knew was his favourite.
She decided to start with the truth. Leaning into him just a bit, she whispered in his ear, "I'm glad you're not dead."
His knife stopped making sweeping motions across the bread, and a smile ghosted across his mouth before he turned to look at her; she read the question in his eyes. Do you still...?
Still what? she wondered briefly. Do I still think you're a prat for not wanting me to fight? Still catch my breath and feel lost when I think of Fred, which is about three or four times a minute? Still wish that I had been able to go with you? Still want to hit you for leaving my room last summer? Still like you?
For all of those questions, and more, she had an answer, the same answer. A blazing look. Yes.
"And I'm glad you're not dead. That curse from Bellatrix almost got you."
"You saw that?"
"Yeah, I was under the invisibility cloak. I saw the curse almost hit you, and I was going to come and help when...."
"Mum stepped in?"
He nodded. "And how."
She didn't want to say it because they were actually having a conversation and it was going well, but she just couldn't keep him from her mind for long. She was glad Harry wasn't dead. She just wished Fred wasn't dead.
"Mum told me she wished she could have saved Fred too."
Harry nodded. "Me too. I mean...I guess we all wish that." He looked down at his plate, toast still in hand. "But no one could've; that explosion came out of nowhere. George reckons we're lucky it didn't take us all out."
Ginny looked at Harry looking at his plate. She shouldn't have been surprised when she saw a tear pooling at the corner of his eye, but she was. She wanted to touch him and tell him not to feel guilty about Fred, that he and George had both been keen to go at the first sign of battle, but she knew it wasn't right. Harry wouldn't want her trying to reassure him after everything that had happened. At least she didn't think so.
"Harry -"
Shaking his head slightly and blinking, he turned to look at her. "You know, Ron's talking about trying to help George with the shop for a while."
She didn't know that. She knew a lot about Fred and George and a bit about what was going on at the Ministry from her dad. She knew what it felt like to be trapped at batty Aunt Muriel's when there was a war going on, but there were all kinds of things she didn't know. She suppressed her anger at once again being the baby sister, the one who was always left out. Maybe that was one of the reasons she missed Fred so terribly. He and George had never made her feel left out the way Ron could, at least not in a long time. And they hadn't teased her about her crush on Harry since first year.
"No. I didn't know," she said crisply. "But," she continued, a little more gently, "it's a brilliant idea."
There was a humming silence, and she was reminded of the noise her dad’s Ford Anglia used to make when the engine was running but it wasn’t going anywhere.
"So," said Ginny, relying as she so often did on humor to carry her through a difficult moment, “what does one do the day after becoming the savior of the wizarding world?"
Harry chuckled. "Well, there's this witch I need to talk to. She used to be my girlfriend, but -"
"Harry! There you are!" It was Percy. "Hi, Ginny," he said cursorily before turning his full attention to Harry. "Kingsley, I mean, the Minister, wants to see you straight away for debriefing. Ron and Hermione are already at the Ministry."
"I was just eating some breakfast -"
"No need! There is plenty to eat at the Ministry. Just come with me; we really mustn't keep him waiting." As Percy tugged on Harry's robes, Harry grabbed his toast and got up to follow.
Ginny watched his back as he walked behind Percy. She'd gone from feeling numb to hopeful to annoyed in less time than it took to eat a piece of toast. Was it really too much to ask for five minutes alone with her maybe-soon-to-be-again boyfriend without being interrupted?
As she watched, Harry turned and gave a little wave and half a smile.
It wasn't much, but it was something. It seemed that they at least had an understanding, and that was enough for now. She could wait.
*
She found him alone at the edge of the garden sitting on the fence and hopped up to sit next to him.
"So, Sis, you must be the designated George sitter for the morning," he said without looking at her.
She couldn't deny it. Mum had asked her to keep an eye on George while she and Dad went to make final funeral arrangements. Percy was still at the Ministry with Ron, Hermione, and Harry; Bill was at work, and Charlie was still at Hogwarts helping Hagrid round up escaped magical creatures. That left the two of them here on the fence.
"Mum's just worried about you." She paused. "So am I."
"You afraid I'm going to do something rash without Fred around to be the voice of reason?" he quipped. She admired the effort, but she wasn't fooled.
"I noticed all the Firewhiskey was gone."
"And we have the best hangover potion on the market."
"George-"
He held up his hand. "Please, no lecture. I promise not to make a habit of it."
They were quiet for a moment.
"I just wish it didn't have to be him."
George arched his eyebrows. "Who, then?"
"Oh, I don't know." She let out a long breath. "I wouldn't have been too sad to see Malfoy snuff it.”
George almost laughed. "Me either. But, as hard as this is to say, I'm actually a little relieved that it was one of us and not you."
She gave him an incredulous look.
"I'm serious. Mum would have killed us both if anything had happened to you. And even if she didn't, we'd have had to put up with Harry moping about." He put his finger to his lips in mock thought. "Now, there's a bloke that might fall into the Firewhiskey and never come out."
She sighed. "I don't know how much Harry would mope. I'm sure Ron and Hermione would be there to comfort him."
George rolled his eyes and adopted that big-brotherly voice that was so familiar to her. "Ginny, give him a chance. He just defeated Voldemort, for Merlin's sake."
"But he's been gone almost a year. How long do I have to wait?" She hated the adolescent tone of her voice, but she couldn't control it.
"Not much longer, I'd wager."
"It's hard seeing him again, but not being able to talk to him. Not knowing if he's still...interested. If he ever gave me a thought." She shook her head, trying to refocus her thoughts. "And now listen to me, whinging on about my ex-boyfriend, when my brother is..."
George shook his head and interrupted. "Don't. Fred wouldn't expect any less than for you to whinge on about Harry." He turned to look at her fully.
"Listen to me, Ginny. It's not a big surprise. We talked about it all the time. What would happen if one of us...didn't survive.
"It could have been worse," he continued. We could have been captured by Death Eaters, tortured, or sent to Azkaban. It's a wonder we lasted as long as we did."
She knew he was right. Other than Fred and George themselves, she alone knew the lengths to which they had gone to sabotage orders from known Death Eaters and how instrumental they had been in broadcasting Potterwatch and how much merchandise - protective cloaks and charms, Peruvian Darkness powder, anything that might be useful - they had donated to trusted Aurors and Muggle-borns in hiding. She had worked to fill legitimate orders while they spent most of their time on covert operations.
"But still..." She couldn't keep the tears from falling.
George leaned over and hugged her. It was a warm, strong comforting hug that she didn't want to end.
"I know," he told her, and she felt his chest convulse. "I miss him, too. You can't even imagine. I've started avoiding mirrors because I can't look at myself."
"What will you do?" she choked out through the snot and the tears.
"What I was doing before." He relaxed his hold a little before continuing. "Run the shop. Maybe branch out into Hogsmeade when Hogwarts reopens. Ron said he'd like to help. He won't be as good as you, of course, but you know, that boy's got potential."
Ginny smiled in spite of herself.
"I'll be okay, really," he assured her. "And look at the bright side: now I might have a shot with Angelina."
*
The next day, Ginny was sitting on the small wooden pier that jutted out into the pond at the Burrow.
She still had not seen Harry since he walked out of the Great Hall, and annoyance was giving way to despair. Harry, it seemed, was always going away from her.
To Hogwarts on the train that first time.
To the Dursleys.
To Hogsmeade with Cho.
To those damn detentions with Snape.
To find Voldemort.
She knew, of course, that Harry had not gone after Voldemort because he wanted to leave her. He had only wanted her to be safe, and even now, she couldn’t shake the notion that his desire for her safety wasn’t just a noble thing, it was because he really cared for her the way she cared for him. It was the only thing that had kept her from screaming at him in the Room of Requirement when he made it clear that he didn’t want her to join the fight.
Then, after all that he'd been through, he’d walked away again. Maybe she'd misread the look in his eyes.
The swinging motion of her toes in the water created ripples that kissed the shores of the pond and then ricocheted and came back to her. She grinned a little as the thought struck her - maybe Harry would come back to her.
What if he did? It didn’t mean that he would stay. One thing she’d learned from their brief time together was that it was hard to be with someone that you knew would leave, someone that had a mission. And even though Harry had completed that mission, there would be others. He’d told her he wanted to be an Auror, an occupation full of opportunities for him to leave - or be taken from - her.
She had to admit, though, that as often as he’d left, he had always come back. There were times he’d even sought her. There was the Chamber of Secrets, of course, but there were other things too. Like when he came to ask her if she would pick up the dragon hide Keeper’s gloves for Ron while she was in Hogsmeade. He wanted them to be a surprise and didn’t want to keep them in the boys’ dormitory until Christmas. When they'd been dating, he would come and wait for her to get out of class when he had a free period. And he had sought her out at breakfast that morning that now seemed a lifetime ago, but had really only been two days.
Her heart leapt when she heard a noise behind her, but turning around she saw that it was Hermione.
"Hey." She tried not to sound disappointed.
"Hello." There was a prolonged silence as Hermione kicked off her shoes and dangled her feet in the water next to Ginny's. "Harry said to tell you hi and that he should be here later - hopefully by dinner."
Ginny was glad for the news but didn't acknowledge it. "How are you?"
"Tired. It took a long time to tell them everything."
"If you told them everything, how come Harry is still there?"
"Well," said Hermione, "Harry had a little more to tell - you know, what happened in the Forest and all."
No. Of course she didn’t know. She didn’t know because no one would tell her a bloody thing.
"And," Hermione continued as she picked a thread on her skirt, "Harry did use two Unforgivables. I don't think he'll be punished, but they're asking a lot of questions."
Punished? The thought was ludicrous to Ginny. ""They would actually think about sending him to Azkaban after what he did? Defeating Voldemort and everrything?”
"No! No, I really don't think so." But Hermione's confidence in the Ministry wasn't what it once was, and she didn't sound sure to Ginny.
*
Harry was not at the Burrow for dinner, or later, but he did show up while the family was eating breakfast the following morning. Mum began fussing over him immediately, and he was flanked by Ron and Hermione at the table. Really, it was too crowded in the kitchen, thought Ginny, and she slipped quietly upstairs.
She hadn’t been up there long when she heard a tentative knock at her door.
Ginny was sitting on her bed, legs stretched in front of her. "Come in."
When Harry walked in, Ginny almost told him to leave; this couldn't end well. They would be interrupted, or he would have to leave for some important reason, or some stupid one, and she would throw a fit. Or a broom. Or a well-aimed hex.
He sat at the foot of her bed and looked out the window.
Taking a deep breath, he said, "I'm really sorry. I had no idea that would take so long."
"Are they sending you to Azkaban?"
His head turned sharply to look at her. "What? No. Why?"
“Hermione said they were questioning you about the Unforgivables. It seems ridiculous that they would even care given everything else that happened, but I was afraid you'd be going away again." She tried to keep the plea from her voice.
"No. I plan to spend the rest of my life not going away again." He didn't seem to realize what he'd said until the words were out, but he also did not try to take them back. He was looking at her steadily.
"Will you tell me what happened? What you did while you were gone?"
"Yes. I'll tell you everything. I promise. But later, okay? I just want to think about something else for awhile." He lay back on the bed. Together, they made an upside down T shape. Her toes grazed his belt before she moved them up a little to rub the side of his torso with her foot. He put his hand on her foot and began gently stroking it with his thumb.
It felt so nice. Ginny didn’t know how long they lay there, connected hand to foot to chest, before they were startled by a loud knock at her door. She groaned loudly as Bill walked in.
"Harry? Oh good, you're still here. You need to come with me to Gringotts. Seems that some of Bellatrix's inheritance may go to you as an heir to the Black estate. Maybe Andromeda too. It's complicated. And they won't let me get any gold from your vault...."
Harry made a motion to get off the bed, and she felt the sharp edge of impending separation as clearly as if someone had handed her the tip of a knife. Then inspiration hit and she grabbed his hand. "Wait. Can I come with you? We'll be in Diagon Alley anyway, and you probably need some new dress robes for his..." She couldn't bring herself to say the word. "Well, I expect there will be a lot of..."
Unexpectedly, Harry's whole face lit up and he squeezed her hand. "That would be brilliant," he said.
*
It did not take Harry long at all to tell anyone at Gringotts who would listen that, inheritance or no, he would not accept a Knut of the Lestranges' gold. Narcissa arrived at some point with a copy of Bellatrix's will, and though this should have simplified things, the unknown whereabouts of Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange presented a problem. In the end, Gringotts froze the assets in the vault and ordered a complete inventory, something everyone admitted would be difficult given the current state of the vault and the dungeon in general.
Ginny had seen Narcissa enter the bank and heard the raised voices in the conference room. She was pacing nervously and chewing the nail off her left thumb when Harry emerged from the room and reached her in three long strides.
"Come on," he said, grasping her elbow with his hand and steering her toward the large entrance doors. "Let's get out of here."
They squinted hard against the bright daylight as they descended the steps and turned in the direction of Madame Malkin's.
The sign said "Robes for All Occasions," but it seemed that there was only one occasion that the wizarding world needed robes for right now. The mannequins in the shop window all wore black, and the shop was so full, there was a small crowd of people waiting outside to get in.
Harry saw them first and came to a complete halt.
"Oh, no," he said. "This was a mistake."
"Why?" asked Ginny, puzzled.
"Because I've spent the last three days talking to people and telling them what happened, accepting their congratulations and offering comfort. I'm just not up for more right now."
"Harry, think how much it would mean to them to see you." She, who had waited so long to be alone with him, could not believe that these words were coming from her mouth. But she knew they were true. "They're all here because they know someone who died, and you being here would remind them that whoever it was died for a really good reason."
"You'll stay with me?" There was an earnest look in his eyes, and he reached out and touched her cheek briefly with his index finger. He seemed to be asking for something more than her company while he shopped for clothes. “Please?”
"Of course." He grasped her hand and interlaced his fingers with hers as they joined the small crowd.
When she saw him, Madame Malkin insisted that Harry be served first, and no one objected. She fitted him in an elegant set of black dress robes, edged, at Ginny's suggestion, in emerald green.
She refused to let Harry pay for his robes and had turned her attention momentarily to another customer when Harry put a finger to his lips and grabbed Ginny's hand again. He pulled her into a small stockroom and covered them both with his invisiblity cloak. "Let's see if we can find a back way out."
Circling around the building and once again on Diagon Alley, they began walking along the street, and without paying much attention, had soon come to Eeylops Owl Emporium. Harry stopped and put a hand on the window in front of a snowy owlet caged and on display in the window. Ginny had not seen a look like that on his face since Dumbledore died, and it broke her heart all over again to see it now.
"Do you want to go in?" she asked quietly.
He shook his head. "Not yet."
After a moment they began walking again, and in front of Number 93, they both stopped. The windows were still adorned with brightly coloured advertisements for Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes products, but some of them were peeling back from the windows at the corners. On the door, there was a simple, hand-lettered sign that said, "Closed due to a death in the family."
"Come on," Ginny said suddenly, tugging Harry into the small alley by the shop. "Someone needs to feed the Pygmy Puffs."
She drew her wand and tapped a sequence of bricks on the side of the building; a doorway appeared, and they walked inside the shop.
"How did you...?" Harry began.
"Fred and George showed me. Lee knows too. They wanted to make sure that a few people could get in in case anything...happened."
Without people or product displays to hinder them, they moved easily through the shop.
"It looks like they moved everything out," said Harry, gesturing to the empty shelves.
"Most of it," Ginny replied. "But Aunt Muriel absolutely refused to let the Puffs in her house. Except for Arnold. It was more dangerous to keep them at the Burrow than here, so they stayed." Harry followed her behind the counter into a room with a narrow set of stairs at the back. She kept talking as she led him up the stairs. "We put them in a room upstairs to keep them safe. Someone checks on them every few days, leaves food and water out, that sort of thing. They've done better than we thought they would. There were two new litters last time I checked."
"Which was when?"
"Last week. We took turns coming. They wouldn't let me come alone, but the Puffs like women better, so it always went faster when I was here."
They set to work, cleaning cages and counting, making notes on elaborate charts. Ginny refused to dwell on the fact that Fred had been with her the last time she was here, and she made a mental note to bring more food next time as supplies were running low.
A pink baby Puff wiggled its way into Harry's shirt and made them both laugh. Ginny knew it was the first time she had laughed since the battle, and for a moment, she allowed herself to feel hopeful again. She even smiled.
Harry held her gaze. "Ginny, I know this may not be the best time to talk, but-"
They both startled and drew wands at the soft pop of Apparition in the room. "Harry?" called Charlie. Ron was with him.
"Thank Merlin," Charlie continued once everyone had put their wands away. "Mum nearly had kittens when Bill came back without you two."
"What are you doing here?" Ginny demanded.
"George asked us to check on the shop and the Pygmy Puffs."
"Done and done," said Ginny. "Now you can go tell Mum that you found us and...."
"Not so fast, little sister," Ron chimed in. "We've all been ordered to Aunt Muriel's to clean out our things and eat lunch."
*
Ginny stood in her room at Aunt Muriel's trying to figure out what to pack first. An open school trunk lay on the bed. It shouldn't have been difficult; she really didn't have that many things here, and yet she couldn't bring herself to begin leaving the last place that she had lived with Fred, the last place where her family had felt whole even if they weren't all together. When Mum came to tell her that lunch was being served, she felt grateful for the reprieve.
It was a somber affair; everyone sat around the table quietly and pretended to eat, but even Ron had left food on his plate. What conversation there was centered on the logistics of the funeral and the fact that an increasing number of reporters were hanging around the Burrow trying to get an interview with the famous Harry Potter. In an effort to spare the Weasleys from having to grieve in front of the press, Harry had offered to stay at Shell Cottage for a few days.
Well, that's just perfect, thought Ginny. Who needs brothers to interrupt when Harry himself has just volunteered to go away again?
Now eager to leave Aunt Muriel's, she returned to her room and started throwing clothes into the trunk. This room was large and luxurious, much nicer than her room at home, or even at Hogwarts. She had her own loo and silk sheets to sleep on, and there was plenty of delicious food cooked by house-elves. It didn't matter, though. None of those things could make her happy in the dark days when she lay on the soft bed and worried about Neville, and Luna, and ...them.
Her mother had always told her that money can't buy happiness, and though Ginny believed her, she'd always secretly thought that if you had enough money, it could at least keep you from being unhappy. Now she knew how wrong she was. If she hadn't had Fred and George to keep her occupied, she'd have gone completely nuts in this room.
Lost as she was in her musings and hurried packing, she didn't notice Harry enter the room.
"Need some help?" he asked softly.
Now she was torn. Happy to see him, but knowing that he was leaving again, and angry that leaving seemed to be so easy for him. She shrugged and tossed a Quidditch glove into the trunk.
"I thought you were helping George."
Harry nodded. "We finished most of it. It's ...weird. Seeing Fred's writing and all those boxes of stuff. I kept waiting for him to walk in the room."
"I know." Her voice was barely a whisper.
"Anyway," he went on in a lighter tone, "George sent me in here to help you...if you want."
Ginny couldn't help but smile. Thanks, George. She shrugged again.
Harry drew out his wand and with one swift stroke Summoned the rest of her belongings. She watched as all of her things began arranging themselves neatly in her trunk; books on the bottom, then clothes, and on top, a small, unmarked white bottle.
She bent over the trunk and picked up the bottle of Lactating Lotion that she had brewed for Tonks. It was such a small thing; it really should not have had such an enormous effect, but seeing that bottle, knowing that Tonks would never hold it or the baby she’d needed it for again, made something in Ginny break. It wasn't just Fred she was mourning, it was Professor Lupin and her friend Tonks and her boyfriend Harry who had left her almost a year ago and was now back, but about to leave again.
She willed herself not to cry. She would not cry. She would not. Not now. Not in front of him.
So she looked up to see him looking at her, and they stood, not touching, looking at each other over an ocean of grief. And Ginny did not feel numb, or hopeful, or annoyed, or desperate. She felt terrified. What if, after everything that had happened to them both, after all of the loss, they couldn't find a way to be together? What if there were things she wanted or needed to know that he couldn't or wouldn't tell her? How could she tell him about what the Carrows did without making him feel guilty? How could she explain the ache in her heart without scaring him away?
She tried to tell herself she was being irrational, but the cold chill on her arms and the shaking hand that still held the bottle belied her.
Harry seemed to sense the change. He moved toward her, closing the gap and catching the bottle as it fell earthward.
"Ginny...are you all right?" He set the bottle down on the table by the bed and put both arms protectively and gently around her.
She tried to explain. "It's just...I had saved that for Tonks and now...." He tightened his embrace.
"Huh-hem." The sound of a clearing throat that did not belong to her or Harry changed the mood abruptly.
"I'm sorry, but Bill's ready to take Harry back to the cottage, and Dad says we need to leave soon too."
Where is my wand? she thought. It had been so long since she'd cast a Bat-Bogey Hex. Though it really wouldn't be nice under the circumstances. They were a grieving family after all, and George was the one who'd sent Harry to her room in the first place.
Harry said, "Thanks, George. We'll be down in a minute. I just-"
" - want to snog my sister?" George finished. "I'm sure you do. But make it quick. Mum'll be up here after you if you don't get down there soon." And with a wink, he was gone.
Harry looked at her and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "It will get better," he said. "It'll be okay." She wanted to believe him, but it seemed unlikely. It also seemed that a relationship with Harry was doomed for any number of reasons, all of which were manifesting themselves today, and she had been foolish to think otherwise. Maybe she should just give up after all. She released her hands from around his waist and closed her trunk.
Outside, Harry walked over to her in front of her remaining family and kissed her again, this time on the cheek. He squeezed her hand and said, "I'll see you tomorrow.” She could, at least, believe that.
After Bill and Harry Disapparated, Ron left Hermione's side for a brief moment. Ginny was surprised to see that he looked truly sympathetic. He even gave her an awkward hug. She took a deep breath and prepared to go home and try to get some rest for tomorrow. It was going to be a long day.
*
She sat on the cliffs outside Shell Cottage, arms wrapped around her knees, looking out over the sea. She could not know it, but she was sitting in the very place where Harry had so often sat in the weeks before now when he wanted to be alone. It was a cool, gray, rainy day, appropriate for a funeral, and the sea mist clung to her hair.
Like the ocean that splashed against the rocks, missing Fred was something that came in waves. She would feel his absence like water filling her lungs and driving out all air, and just when she couldn't take it anymore, the pain would subside and the water would recede, just enough for her to take another breath. In, and out. Sometimes now, she could go for a whole five, maybe ten, minutes without thinking about him. And then a fresh wave would breach and crash to the shore inside. She would feel herself being pulled under by the current, and then she would surface again, gasping and clinging to life.
Fleur had invited people over after the funeral. It was supposed to be just family, but Harry was there, of course, and Andromeda had stopped by with baby Teddy. Seeing Teddy had been an unexpected delight. He was so new and perfect. She caught Harry looking at her with a sort of glazed expression when she was holding him, rocking him slowly as he slept. She'd held him for a long time, watching her family and loved ones buzz about her. When Teddy woke, hungry, she had pressed him into Harry's unwilling arms along with a bottle. He was uncomfortable at first, but he soon got the hang of feeding, and when Teddy's hair turned black and spiky and a small mark appeared on his forehead, a look of pure awe washed over Harry's face. She felt a spark of joy at that, but when she happened to glance at George, a riptide of grief grabbed at her ankles. It was as if someone had thrown her a life raft, and she couldn't reach it.
She said her goodbyes to Ron and Hermione quietly in the kitchen and then snuck out the door. They were headed to Australia to find Hermione's parents. Ginny felt very lucky to have the chance to say goodbye to Ron this time, and she realized with a stab of shame that she had talked to him even less than she had talked to Harry in the past week. It occurred to her that Harry might be going with them, and she had not said goodbye to him. She wasn't sure if she could.
Suddenly, her cloak felt dry and warm. She looked around to see Harry standing behind her, wand drawn. He must have cast a Heating Charm. "Can I sit down?"
"Yes. Of course."
Instead of sitting next to her, he sat close behind her, so that his arms were wrapped around her knees too, and his hands covered hers. She leaned her head back into his shoulder.
"Ron and Hermione just left."
"You're not going with them?"
"No. I told you. I'm not going away again." She closed her eyes and felt something solid, like a life raft, nudging her.
"Where's Bill?"
"Inside helping Fleur with the dishes."
"And Percy?"
"With your dad and George. George wants to open the shop again tomorrow."
"Charlie?"
"At the Ministry, trying to get asylum for the dragon. He wants to take it back to Romania."
"So, you're saying that none of my brothers are around to interrupt?"
She could feel Harry grin.
"Yeah, I guess that's what I'm saying."
She wanted to turn so that she could see him, and kiss him properly, but just then he intertwined his fingers with hers and squeezed gently. She settled for lifting his hand to her mouth and giving it a soft kiss.
He kissed her neck just as softly. His breath was warm in her ear but sent a cold shiver up her spine. "I've missed you," he said. "So, so much."
"I missed you too. You have no idea."
"Do you think - Do you think we can be - ?"
"Yes. Yeah, I think we can."
She closed her eyes again and felt the weight and reality of him behind her, all around her really. She could feel his heart beat against her back, and she clasped his hands just a little tighter, and hung on. It was enough to keep her head afloat in the current. The tide was going out for now. The wait was over.