Fic: Where the Rift Mends (Part 2/2)
Title: Where the Rift Mends
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~20,000
Pairing(s): Ginny/Scorpius [other pairings as backgrounds, including established canon relationships]
Warnings: major character death (Harry), ADW: 47/22 for Ginny/Scorpius
Summary: Once there was a man named Harry Potter. Then, one day, there wasn't.
Author’s notes: Written for hereticalvision for hp_nextgen_fest 2010.
Huger than huge thanks go out to the mods for putting up with my slacking muse and of course to my beautiful beta, literaryspell-you are a doll and a half for being able to stand my blatant abuse of adverbs and massive canonfail. <3
Where the Rift Mends
A month passed in relative contentment. While the arrangement had originally been for Scorpius to stay for a few weeks, neither Ginny nor Scorpius ever mentioned him leaving, so he just stayed on. For Ginny, it was nice not to be alone, and when Albus, James, or Lily came by, she felt like she had a family again, that her life was slowly beginning to put itself back together. For Scorpius, it was an escape from the lonely solitude of his flat, a chance to stay with someone who cared for him.
In the mornings, Scorpius often made breakfast. In the evenings, they made dinner together or had Indian take away. They played Quidditch with Albus, James, and Lily, visited the Burrow on weekends to see Hermione, Ron, and their kids, and stayed up late almost every evening talking. Scorpius liked to hear about Ginny's work for the Prophet, asked her about every detail of the Quidditch matches, even though he admitted he wasn't really a fan.
Scorpius returned to the Ministry for work, recounting that it was the most tedious job in the history of quill pushing, but he would be able to work his way up. And with his eye on a future career with Albus in the Department of Mysteries, he had to work hard to get there. Both of them knew Albus got his job partially due to his surname; while he was a talented wizard, he had a foot in the door thanks to Harry.
Life continued for everyone. Ginny found it easier to bear talking about Harry in public, thinking of him in private, without anger, guilt, or wrecking sorrow gutting her.
After a big weekend dinner with the kids, Ginny was anxious to unwind with a glass of Elderflower wine or two, so she popped the cork from one of the Elderflower wines she'd been saving for a rainy day and poured a glass. Dressed down in a comfortable white camisole and blue-and-black plaid pyjama shorts, Ginny swished the wine around in her glass and inhaled the familiar lavender-and-fermented-berry scent before she tipped it back for a long drink. Already, she felt her muscles loosening and her mind warming to the idea of sitting around for an entire evening in lethargy.
Scorpius entered from the back door, brushing snow off of his boots as he stood in the threshold. He pulled off his hat, blond hair tousled and sticking up at odd ends.
"Al forgot his broom again," he announced with a roll of his eyes. They'd had a mid-afternoon Quidditch match in the backyard again. "Want me to lock it in the shed?"
"Yeah, probably for the best," Ginny said, leaning against the counter as she poured another glass. "The Muggle kids down the road are just dying to see what is so special about our brooms." She grinned. "Wouldn't want them to get too close to finding out."
Scorpius nodded and turned to go back out into the cold, but Ginny stopped him.
"Wait! Wait, forget that plan. Get the extra broom out and we'll have a race or two."
Scorpius' pale eyes widened as he snorted. "At this hour? In, er, that?" He nodded towards her shorts. "You'll freeze."
"When I was in training for the Harpies, I was dared to race Celestine Ceres in the nude when it was twenty below, so I think I can handle a bit of English winter cold."
"All-female nude Quidditch?" Scorpius said, biting at his grin. "I'd have liked to see that."
Smacking his arm as she grabbed a coat from the closet, Ginny gestured towards the door. "Sounds to me like you're afraid I'll win."
"Oh, no-I know you'll win. I'm not under any false pretences of your talent on a broom compared to mine." As Scorpius opened the shed and grabbed Ginny's broom to hand to her, he quirked one fine, blond brow. "Although, don't you think it's a bit of a one-sided competition if only one of us has trained and played professionally on one of the most vicious teams in the league and one of us never made it past lessons as a firstie?"
"Nonsense," Ginny replied, shrugging his fears off as she mounted her broom and kicked off.
The backyard at the Potter house had been one of the major selling points in purchasing it for Ginny, who had always adored the Burrow's sense of space and privacy. The ten acre plot was fenced in with tall gates and shielding charms to prevent the neighbourhood Muggles from seeing all the magic that went on in the backyard, allowing many a Quidditch game or race. From above, it all seemed both meaningless and special at the same time.
Whizzing through the air, Ginny shivered and damned Scorpius for being right. It was freezing, snow still clinging to the bushes and flowers below, but at the same time, the cold air was freeing in a way. It had only been a little over a month since Harry's death, and she hadn't afforded herself any opportunities to really feel foolishly alive since. Work was work: she had begun to travel again to the Quidditch matches, and things were moving in the right direction. But that didn't mean she'd had the chance to feel the air in her lungs or the beat of her heart or the ache in her gut that meant she was pulsing with life and thankful for the chance.
Scorpius caught up to her relatively quickly and spun the tail of Al's broom to nudge her own. Their eyes met, and Ginny grinned.
"To the end of the fence and back. Ready?" she called over a particularly rough gust of wind.
"Do I have a choice?"
"Nope."
Biting back a laugh, Ginny gripped the handle of her broomstick. Beneath her fingers, the broom responded to her touch, all warmth and shuddering acceptance of her dominance over it. There was a distinct reason why riding a broom was one of Ginny's favourite things in the world.
Gaze caught, they counted together in some silent agreement of when the race should begin and took off at the start of it, both of their bodies bent doubled over and close to the handles of their broomsticks. The wind made it difficult, but Ginny took an early start and didn't let up on her easy advantage. Eyes focused, her red hair whipped wildly behind her in long waves of speed, snapping and lashing against the night sky.
Whizzing to the fence, she chanced a quick look over her shoulder and saw Scorpius struggling on Al's broom, laying nearly flat to the handle to will magic into the wood. The look on his face made something catch in Ginny's throat, caused a sting at the back of her eyes. Harry looked just like that so long ago, lost in the passion of the race, the sizzle of magic, the hard bite of the winds, the pulse of the wood, and the hunger to win, to capture, to defeat.
In her moment of contemplation, Scorpius began to gain some ground, but they had reached the end of the fence by then, so Ginny whipped the tail of her broom around with a hard kick and fierce lean of her body. Thighs clenched tight against the wood, she whizzed past Scorpius with her nostrils flaring and jaw tight. It had been years since she had lost a race, even to Harry, and Scorpius had never even been on a team.
The two of them, Harry and Scorpius, were so different. There was no reason for Ginny to think it, to even draw any comparisons at all between them, but she couldn't help the odd drop of her stomach when she thought of Scorpius losing the race, dismounting breathlessly, his legs surely trembling and weak, sweat upon his brow, and cheeks red. Against her better judgment, she thought of how nice his blond hair might look washing over his forehead as he tried to tuck the errant stands behind his thin ears. She even thought of her own fingers combing through the tangles, easing them into place, her cold fingertips pressing to his warm, warm scalp, of the day she kissed him after Harry's funeral and how he hadn't moved a muscle except to push her away.
Despite the loss of concentration, Ginny easily won the impromptu race and turned her broom to watch Scorpius come in panting afterward. The grimace on his face and the wobble of the broom under his weight made her grin.
"So," she hummed, drawing closer and sweeping her eyes over him. "There is something Scorpius Malfoy isn't good at. Didn't think it'd be Quidditch. Your father was-"
"A fantastic Seeker, I know," Scorpius drawled, pointed features flushed in a way that made Ginny's heart stop. "Please, you don't have to rub it in. You're brilliant. I knew that going in. I was just trying not to fall off and embarrass myself."
"Well, it is Al's broom," she conceded.
"Al's fantastic broom with my lousy lack of talent," Scorpius added, rolling his eyes even though a grin threatened to break. As he sat up on the shaft and gripped the wood in one hand, he brushed his blond hair back with the other. Ginny's eyes followed every twist and curl of his hair. "Anyway, are you quite done? I'm going to freeze my bollocks off, and you'll be nothing more than a pretty icicle on a broomstick if we don't get inside soon."
Ginny started. Nobody had called her 'pretty' in years. She had been pretty once upon a time, when she was Scorpius' age, before the kids, before the stress of the marriage, before Harry died.
"You think I'm pretty?" she whispered, frowning.
Scorpius coloured. "Oh, no-I mean, yes, of course you're pretty, but…" He sighed, a delicate white puff exhaling from his lean, pink mouth. "I'm sorry."
Ginny's broom vibrated under her touch as she guided it forward as slowly as she dared. Maybe Scorpius would spook. Maybe she ought to go inside and put on something decent. Maybe Scorpius hadn't meant anything by that. Maybe it was time for Ginny to grow up and stop pretending all things were possible at her age, even second chances.
The hard-contoured handle of Ginny's broom rubbed wantonly against the delicate-curved handle of Al's broom, and Ginny felt a jolt of something stir inside her bones. Scorpius looked at her like he thought he'd seen a ghost, like he wanted to bolt but didn't know a nice way to ask if he could, like he wasn't expecting her to lean in and press her hand over the shudder of his wrist to still him or lean in until her breath mingled white with his and then it didn't because they kissed to smother it.
Unlike their previous kiss, Scorpius eagerly returned it, his tongue swiping over the crease of her lips like he knew just what she wanted. Rushed with the overwhelming excitement sizzling through her body, Ginny pulled herself closer, until their legs and brooms and arms were touching, and gripped a handful of his white-blond hair until he made a noise. With a jolt, Scorpius pushed forward. Their teeth knocked clumsily, but the noise of it like a clash in the wind only made Ginny want Scorpius all the more.
Both hands gripped at Scorpius' body, touching all the places to claim them-his imperfect and bony shoulders, his sharp jaw, his long throat, the tender flesh hidden beneath cloak and jumper. Carelessly, she tore at him like a wild animal until her bare fingers met his bare flesh and then growled in triumph at the noise she elicited from him.
Scorpius was the first to break the hot, wet kiss to make a sloppy trail over her neck and to the fleshy part of her ear lobe. He drew it between his teeth, flicked his tongue along the cold-hot skin, and Ginny ground down against the broom for something more. Already her hands were sliding up his thighs, seeking everything from him. Her body felt warm all over, despite the frigid reality of the temperature in the backyard.
A gust of wind rocked them, Ginny bit Scorpius' lower lip, and then somehow they were on their feet on the ground but no less frantic to touch and claim and kiss and mark. Ginny gripped Scorpius' hair with both hands, dug her fingers through his hair and to his scalp just like she'd pictured, dragged his head back so she could mouth down to the jut and bob of his Adam's apple. Fitting her lips around it, she sucked, delighted by the visceral grunt that escaped Scorpius' lips.
Scorpius never sounded like this. Never. Not for anybody else. It was with this knowledge that Ginny grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the kitchen door, through it, and into the warmth of the house.
Broomsticks forgotten against the floor, Ginny had Scorpius pressed to the door before it had even closed. Slamming his body against it, the locks clicked into place behind his back, and Scorpius arched away from them and into Ginny's firm, wanting figure. She was still as toned as she could maintain after years of vigorous eating and exercising habits for the Harpies, and for the first time in over twenty-seven years, she wondered if she was attractive. What if Scorpius didn't like the hard muscles in her abdomen or her tight, small breasts?
Scorpius panted as Ginny pulled away and yanked the cloak from his skinny body. Clothes began to pool on the floor, until Scorpius stood in jumper, pants, and socks, the hard contour of his erect cock stretching the fabric of his black underwear. Eagerly, she palmed him, eyes darting over his pale mouth, parted in an ever-present 'o', stretched around the letter as if in agony-but she knew better.
Her fingers fit over his long length, massaging him through the thin material of his pants, pinching the bulbous, soft head between thumb and forefinger. At that, Scorpius jerked, bony hips bucking off the wall and towards her. Hands tangled in her long, red hair, gripping and guiding until their mouths met again and Scorpius sloppily kissed the breath from her. Despite the growing dizziness swirling through her body, Ginny continued to rub at Scorpius's dick and when it seemed he wouldn't pull away to help her, she struggled her hand into his pants and pulled his erection free, nudging his pants down with her free hand so they caught at his skinny thighs.
When Scorpius grunted, Ginny stole the opportunity from him and nudged his head back against the door with animalistic tenacity. Scorpius simply didn't stand a chance as her mouth bit and sucked down the tight lines of his jaw and over the white of his throat. She left angry red bites in her wake, but Scorpius never said stop, so she didn't. Instead, she bit harder, sucked firmer, licked sloppier, until Scorpius's entire face, neck and chest were blotched with love bites and a flush that had him gasping for air. In her hand, Scorpius had hardened completely, his pale dick arched up to his stomach, sticky-sweat at the red head, veins prominent and pulsing under her palm. He made noises like a creature running on passion alone, as if he was completely submissive to her whims.
Finally, Ginny managed to let go of him long enough to struggle out of her pyjama bottoms. Embarrassment crept over her freckled cheeks and flushed her throat as she revealed the simple purple-and-black panties and her too-big thighs, bulging with muscles that she knew had always made Harry uncomfortable. No man wanted a woman with muscles-they wanted soft and curvaceous and feminine, not hard-bodied and masculine and toned.
But when she looked up, Scorpius's fingers were twitching at his sides, and the look in his eyes flashed with something she had never seen before. She wondered if he… Had he ever? Certainly, she would not be the first to… But he wanted her. That much was undeniably clear as his pale gaze swept her over from the fiery crown of her red hair to the paint at the tips of her toes.
Neither of them said a word. Ginny wondered if she should be sensible and call this off before it got out of hand-then she saw Scorpius palming his dick and knew they were too far gone already. Before she could beckon him close, Scorpius closed the scant distance between their bodies as if guided by magnetic force and crashed into her, shoving her against the island counter. Half-bent over it, Ginny was assaulted by Scorpius's frantic, breathless kisses, and she groaned as his fingers pressed firmly between her legs, a good guess or perfect mistake when he rubbed the thin material of her pants over her blood-rushed clit.
Gasping for him, Ginny drew her leg up, and Scorpius gripped under her thigh with his free hand, keeping her suspended on one leg as he teased and pleasured her. Arched onto her very tip-toes, Ginny abandoned the counter for balance and used Scorpius's scrawny shoulders instead. She thrust and ground and bucked into him, letting his nimble fingers push too hard or slide too softly against all the places on her body that were warm with want. When he let her go, she let out a disappointed whine.
Despite the disappointment, there was a rush of clear, focused adrenaline. She remembered this part. This was the rush of being shoved against the wall or into the mattress, being held down and taken, being ravaged and fucked, being driven to the end of her sanity and beyond, head thrown over the bed, springs creaking, sweat streaming between lean bodies, muscles strained and breath caught and eyes rolled.
But Scorpius didn't move. For a silent moment, he stood still, and only when Ginny's eyes raked over his own did he slip to his knees before her. This… this was new. This was not the kind of thing Harry normally did, but at the sight of Scorpius's pale blond head bowed before her, Ginny couldn't stop the grunt that slipped from her lips. She tried to say something, to tell Scorpius yes, please, go on, but the only noises falling free were lost to incoherence in her excitement. Between her legs, she could feel wetness and heat swelling, the pain of it intense and acute, a desperate rush of blood and arousal to the lips of her opening and the hard round of her clit.
Without waiting for directions, Scorpius yanked the crotch of Ginny's knickers aside, exposing the red, swollen folds of her vagina. He leaned in without hesitation and pressed his mouth to her opening, and Ginny gasped as she gripped handfuls of his perfect hair to tug and centre herself. She felt as though she would collapse if he went on but that she would explode if he stopped. Wordlessly, she abandoned his hair with sloppy haste and reached down to spread her lips obscenely for him.
"No."
It was the first word spoken between them in so long that it frightened Ginny, coming out of the silence like that. Scorpius's voice was gruff and growling, the word a single command that Ginny mutely obeyed. Scorpius pulled her hands away and pressed them firmly against the counter near her hips. He held them there as if to say stay, though he didn't need to say it for Ginny to know it was what they both wanted.
Slowly, Scorpius's hands swept up the insides of Ginny's thighs, over the hard curves of her muscles, and he pressed his thumbs into the line between groin and thigh tenderly, as if massaging. The gentleness of his touch began to drive her wild, and though she ached to thrust her hips against his mouth again, she didn't want to move and break the tentative moment between them.
Finally, Scorpius seemed satisfied, and he jerked her knickers until they fell down at her ankles and spread her lips properly. His tongue was the first thing to sweep over her clit-his small, pink, wet, hot tongue, lapping up her juices lightly. His small tongue, followed by a puff of warm breath and then the whole of his face smothered against her, his teeth brushing her wet skin, entire mouth sucking against the length of her cunt, and finally his tongue again, probing right into her without question or pause.
With a shout, Ginny's nails dragged against the hard wood of the counter cabinets as she fought to keep her hands away from herself. It had been years since a man had done this to her, years since she had felt so dangerously close to the brink of orgasm in such a short time, and she itched to rub two fingertips just under the ball of her clit and bring herself off. Already her legs were quaking, hips jutting towards Scorpius, head lolling back and forth, lips parted and jaw slack in pleasure. It was only then that Scorpius's fingers slid from the upper fold of her lips down further between her legs and right into her slick, hot slit.
"Oh-oh!" she gasped, fingers flying from the cabinets to take control of the back of his head with both hands. She gripped hard, forced her clit into the suction of his taut lips, and bucked wildly.
Scorpius let loose a muffled moan that only further succeeded in heightening Ginny's pleasure as it reverberated against her sex. One last buck and swipe of his tongue, cat-like against the underside of her clit, and she came. Folding over Scorpius's form, she clenched her fingers through every tangle of hair she could hold, thrust in jolting undulations as she smeared her cunt on his mouth and face. She rode his slim fingers as she rocked through her climax and eventually shoved him away when the pressure became too much and she crumpled, weak-kneed, to the floor beside him.
Ankles caught in her panties, Ginny gripped Scorpius by his cheeks and pulled him in to lick the taste of her orgasm from his mouth and jaw and chin. She was still aching inside, as if she hadn't come at all, so she crawled closer and ravaged his mouth to show him she wasn't done. One hand abandoned his face to seek out his dick, calloused fingers wrapping around the base and stroking in one slow motion to the head and back. Against her mouth, Scorpius whined, and the noise drove Ginny wild. With a laugh, she crawled over his body and shoved him to the kitchen floor.
Straddling his waist was easy-getting Scorpius to lie still and not thrust up into her was much more difficult. She found him eagerly thrashing under her as she jerked his stiff length off too slowly to let him climax. She had a wild, immediate desire to let him shoot off inside her. How long had it been since she'd let Harry do that? How long since they had fooled around in such a rush? Since she let Harry enter her ass instead or suck him until her lips were raw and swollen? In an impulsive rush, she wanted to do everything to Scorpius, to let him do everything to her, to discover the weird little parts of his sexual perversions that he kept hidden from everyone else, to share her own with him and allow him into her in every intimate way imaginable.
"Please," Scorpius said, finally wrestling the control away from Ginny enough to grip both of her wrists. He held them out to her sides, sat up to nip at her mouth, even when she laughed and pulled away so he couldn't kiss her. "Please, let me-"
"Let you do what, exactly?"
Scorpius' eyes flashed with a feral look, but his expression went slack, as if torn between raunchy honesty or the watered-down version. Ginny wondered how he liked it. If he was the slow, sensual type who wanted to push her on her back and slide between her legs. Or maybe he was just like this, hard and passionate and a little too eager, desperate to make his partners scream. It had been so long, Ginny would have done whatever it was he preferred.
"I want to be inside you," he said. "Have wanted it for so long… felt like such a freak… I didn't think-"
"Shh…"
Ginny watched Scorpius' skinny chest rise and fall with every deep breath he sucked in and let out. His lips parted, eyes searched, and the grip on her wrists loosened. Taking the opportunity Scorpius afforded her, Ginny twined their fingers and slammed his hands down flat against the cold kitchen floor. She held him there just a short minute, long enough to show him she wanted his hands to stay there when she let go. Scorpius' fingers twitched without hers holding them in place, but he remained where she put him as her hands touched his face, roamed down over his throat, under his shirt to feel the flat of his stomach, and finally rested on his skinny hips.
Leaning back, she took hold of his erection, lifted herself up, and sank down onto him. It hurt a little, getting used to the sheer length of Scorpius' dick and the immediate thrust of his hips to bury himself to the hilt. Arched, she cried out and let go of his erection once it rested in her body. She took the time to feel the way he filled and stretched her, then pressed both hands to his hips to steady herself as she lifted, pulled off, and sank back again and again and again.
The lethargy of her movements was a strict contradiction to the eagerness of Scorpius' sharp bucks, but somehow they fell into a rhythm. Ginny's body rose and fell, and her hands swept over his stomach and under his shirt to claw at his chest. When she opened her eyes, Scorpius was staring at her. His brows were furrowed, lips parted and curled, face contorted. It was exquisite, watching him gape at her with those wide, blue eyes. With her body bent, Ginny leaned down to catch his mouth for a searing kiss.
Scorpius finally moved his hands from where Ginny had positioned them; his fingers began to dig bruises into her skin. Their lips moved wet and rough, Ginny's hair fell in cascades over onto Scorpius' face, and their soft grunts filled the air between them.
It wasn't long before Ginny was drawing close to another orgasm; she knew all it would take would be the pressure of her fingers against her clit to send her into climax. But when she moved to touch herself, Scorpius slapped her hands away, wrenched her off his body and pinned her face-down on the floor. His dick rubbed in between her thighs, against her arse cheeks, and she felt the slickness of her own juices slithering out of her cunt.
"I love the way you smell," Scorpius said suddenly, breath hovering over Ginny's sex. "The way you taste."
She cried out when his tongue delved into her from behind, raised her hips to give him a better angle, and shuddered when he flicked his tongue over her clit. His mouth teased upwards, over her perineum, and she screamed anew, the sensation overwrought with so much pleasure that it almost hurt. Distracted, she didn't realize exactly when Scorpius spread her arse cheeks and thrust his tongue inside, but when he did, the noise she made was nearly inhuman. The sensation that jolted through her made Ginny's entire body flush with heat. Between her legs, her cunt throbbed painfully, blood rushing to all the places Scorpius had touched.
Scorpius took his time licking her arse, perineum, and slit, and then pressed two fingers into her cunt. Smearing her come from vagina to arse, Scorpius used her own juices to finger her arse, and it was then that Ginny began to beg. Almost incoherent, she began to whisper Scorpius' name with embarrassing pleas for him to fuck her arse, to rub her clit, to wipe her come all over her mouth-anything, as long as he'd get her off.
With a laugh, Scorpius finally abandoned her backside, fingers slipping out of Ginny's arse with a wet noise. She could feel her own come squishing in her arse when she shifted and didn't know if she should ask him to stop or beg him to go on when the head of his dick pressed to the pucker of her arsehole and slid inside.
Clawing at the kitchen floor, Ginny sobbed out Scorpius' name again and again, as if it were the only word she was capable of speaking. Sweat beaded down the small of her back, her clit and cunt throbbed for attention, and her arse began to welcome Scorpius' length into her.
"Is it… okay?" Scorpius panted. The strain of his voice was perfect, the low pitch a rumbling reminder that he was getting off on taking her exactly how he wanted.
"Yes, don't stop," Ginny growled. "Don't you dare stop."
Scorpius seemed to take her words to heart, but was clumsy when he thrust in the remaining distance. Ginny wasn't sure if that was because he hadn't had very much experience or because he just might love her and wanted to be careful. She didn't dare ask; instead, she arched her arse back towards him, inviting him to go further and harder. Snaking one hand between her legs, she found her clit, and when she rubbed her slick, come-covered fingers over it, the pleasure intensified tenfold.
"Oh-oh, Merlin," Scorpius ground out. "So-so tight… hot…"
That was all it took, just those simple and obvious words exhaled from Scorpius' thin lips, just the brief catch in his voice and the hard push of his hips to shove his dick in and out. Ginny clenched as she came for the second time that evening. Rubbing her clit furiously, she thrashed back, impaling herself on his length over and over until her body went numb.
When she came down, she half-collapsed, resting her forehead down against the cool tiles to ease the fever that overwhelmed every inch of her skin. Behind her, Scorpius continued to thrust, but he wasn't long in coming. Somewhere beyond the haze, Ginny managed to whisper, "Inside," before Scorpius came, his come spurting within her arse and squishing when he pulled out. Relaxed, she felt the come dribble out of her arse, a strange sort of embarrassment rolling over her.
Scorpius didn't seem to mind or think it was weird as he lay down flat on his back and exhaled. Ginny turned to look at him, ran her gaze greedily over the sweat-dampened lines of his young body, wondering what the hell he wanted with a woman her age, with so much mental baggage, so much weighing her down. He was young, had a whole wonderful life ahead of him, and she was a mid-forties widow with three kids and empty nest syndrome.
Their eyes met. Scorpius breathed heavily as he propped himself up on one arm and rolled over to face her. So close she could smell the tea from dinner on his breath, Ginny couldn't resist stealing a quick kiss. It turned into something more when Scorpius' fingers gingerly dragged through her hair, combed through it, and cupped her cheek. They kissed for much longer than Ginny intended, but it was hard to pull away when Scorpius was so warm against her. Relishing the heat of his mouth, Ginny kissed him until fatigue washed over every limb and she realized they were lying half-naked in the middle of the kitchen.
Ginny pulled away, careful in her slow movements so she wouldn't spook Scorpius. He looked elated, eyes half-lidded and heavy as they raked over her body when she stood. Seeking out her wand, Ginny cast a few cleansing spells to rid the mess on her body and on Scorpius' before she sent their clothes flying into the laundry bin. She made her way into the living room, pointed her wand at the hearth, and lit a fire. When she glanced over her shoulder and saw Scorpius hesitating in the doorway, she smiled in invitation.
"Coming?" She waved at the couch, which lengthened and elongated into a queen-sized bed.
Ginny half-expected Scorpius to run off, to make up some excuse that nothing had even happened, to leave her there wondering what she'd done, but to her relief, he nodded. Pulling his shirt off, finally exposing the last inches of his boyish form to the dim firelight, Scorpius strode to her in the nude and tugged at the last remnants of her own clothes. Once they were both naked, they lay in bed together, shared a brief laugh, and allowed sleep to come.
~*~
When Harry was a boy, things were not easy but they were at least preordained. As he grew up, Harry learned that a simple, quiet life would never come without complications.
There was no part of Harry that wanted the heroics, but Legacy followed him to his grave. Asleep under the shade of thick-branched trees, Harry felt the first hint of normalcy he'd ever known. Not everyone could slay a dark lord, but everyone died-it was ordinary, just like breathing or falling asleep, and it was the reason no ghost of Harry Potter would ever haunt the Wizarding world.
Harry was at peace.
~*~
Waking up in an empty bed to an empty house was not exactly the morning-after experience Ginny had hoped for. If anything, Ginny had more of a right to tell Scorpius that what they'd done had been a mistake. Scorpius had no right to leave her like that, to sneak out of her house with suitcases packed, and leave her a note that said he was sorry. Ginny didn't even believe he was sorry-what good was a note when he could have told her in person that he regretted having sex with an old hag?
The note he left was wrinkled and awkwardly folded when she found it beside her in the large, makeshift bed in the morning. It read:
Ginny,
I'm sorry. I'm moving back to my flat. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you. Please forgive me.
Scorpius
For a few seconds, Ginny wondered why he bothered apologizing. It was pretty clear he either thought he'd made a terrible decision and regretted every second of their impromptu fuck and happy aftermath… or he was scared shitless. Ginny hadn't given him any reason or excuse to feel either of those things, but she knew what he was like, and even she couldn't deny it was possible that what they'd done had been a mistake.
Yet… it felt good. Ginny felt happy, loved, warm and comfortable in his presence. And it wasn't as if she had asked him to marry her or take Harry's place or any of those awful thoughts. Is that what he thought? That he was a rebound fuck? Even Ginny wasn't sure what he was, but certainly she was too old for rebounds.
At the kitchen table, Ginny drew out a quill and piece of parchment to begin a response. She wouldn't be foolish enough to run after him like a schoolgirl chasing her crush, but she wanted to ensure he knew she didn't think badly of him for what they'd done. In fact, she would have preferred it continue beyond a one-night stand.
In steady hand, she wrote:
Scorpius,
You owe me nothing. I don't expect you to stay here if you feel like you do. Take some time if you need it.
I'd like to see you again. I wish you wouldn't have left in a rush, but what can I do?
I won't wait forever. Please owl me.
Ginny
Maurice, the family owl, was cooing happily in his cage when Ginny found him. He hooted at her, flew to her side, and let her attach the letter to his leg.
"Find Scorpius and give this to him, hm?" she asked, ruffling the feathers under Maurice's chin.
He nipped her fingertips and flew off into the early morning.
A response wouldn't arrive until later that week, well after Ginny had decided Scorpius just wouldn't be able to handle anything more than a one-night stand. His response was short and to the point:
Ginny,
I'm sorry. I want to see you. Friday night, Indian food at Shiva's at eight?
Scorpius
A smile tugged the corners of Ginny's small mouth. She couldn't help the foreign sizzle of elation she felt in her heart that said maybe it was possible to move on. Dinner was a start.
~*~
Teddy waits for a response. He has been waiting for something his whole life. Waiting to be old enough to know more about his father, waiting to grow up, waiting for Harry to say he's sorry, waiting for Victoire to say yes, waiting for Ginny to answer his owls, waiting for the funeral date to pass, waiting and waiting and waiting for something.
He tries to bide his time, to pass it with insistent apologies and whispered confessions of all his guilt into the empty bottles that pass before his eyes on the bar.
Teddy writes another letter, scribbles it out, writes another, balls it in his fist to feel it crumble, writes another and sends it without thinking.
Lamenting the time it takes to be a better man, he waits.
~*~
The letter arrived, half-destroyed by the brutal winter weather. It ready Ginny Potter on the outside and in a small, scribbled scrawl, from Teddy Lupin in cursive on the back. It was Friday afternoon. She wondered if Teddy was somewhere drowning his sorrows in alcohol or bullying, completely alone in the world…or if Victoire was with him again, if he'd found someone new, if James, Lily, or Albus ever wrote to him.
Turning the letter over in her palm, she studied the dark parchment, sighed, and tore the damned thing open in one go. What use was there in ignoring him now? So much time had passed. Maybe Harry would have liked to know what Teddy had to say.
Dear Ginny,
I doubt your eyes will ever pass over these words, so I will just lay it all out:
I didn't go to the funeral because I didn't want to crowd you guys, and because I was scared.
I'm still scared.
Every day, I regret all the stupid things I did as a kid.
I know I let Harry down, let you and the kids down, too, but I've changed.
I wish I didn't drink so much-I'm trying to stop.
Victoire says I shouldn't smoke, but it keeps my hands busy.
I miss being a part your family.
If you can forgive me, if there is even the smallest part that thinks it's possible, please meet me at Rosine's Café in Muggle London tonight at seven. If you aren't there, I won't write again.
I'm sorry.
Yours,
Teddy
The words brought something to choke in Ginny's throat. She read the letter three times before she was satisfied and then rushed to the bread-box near the sink, where Scorpius had stashed Teddy's original letter. Holding it in her trembling fingers, Ginny tore the seal and read it through, hand over her mouth as she began to sob.
It was already half-past six. Hoping she would have enough time to meet Teddy and then see Scorpius afterward, Ginny ran upstairs and threw on a wool jumper, jeans, and boots. She fished out her scarf and gloves, twisted her hair back into a long plait to keep it from tangling, and grabbed her coat before she Apparated. The safe point where she would find herself was five blocks from the café, the one she remembered Harry had often taken Teddy when he'd been a boy.
By the time she arrived, the Muggle café was bustling with customers. Pairs on dates, kids blowing straws across private booths, and the scent of pastries and chai wafting in warmly from the bakery in back. Standing in the entryway, Ginny twisted the fringe of her brown scarf nervously. Maybe Teddy wouldn't show. She hadn't thought that he would stand her up, but it would be very like the old Teddy to write, to apologize, and then have it all be some horrible joke that wasn't funny.
The flash of blue hair at the counter told her she was wrong. Teddy was there, huddled over a large mug of coffee, picking idly at an oversized blueberry muffin. She wondered how long he had been there, waiting for her to stand him up. Head bowed, Ginny made her way to him and slid into the seat beside him without a word. Before either of them spoke, she felt his eyes drag over her and turned to see his blue hair singed with yellow at the tips.
"Hello, Teddy," she said, unable to keep the choke of emotion from catching in her voice. "All right?"
"I… didn't think you'd come. Not really. Not after I…"
Ginny cringed a little, turning away to peruse a menu, though she wasn't hungry at all.
"You look, er, good," Teddy added, toying with the spoon in his drink. "How are you?"
"All things considered, well. You?"
Teddy didn't answer right away. The chatter of the café washed over and between them. Finally, Ginny sighed and shifted to get up. Teddy's hand caught her wrist to still her.
"Miserable," he answered darkly. When their eyes met, she saw the red in his. "I'm so sorry. About Harry, about what I did when… about everything. I spend half my days thinking about what an idiot I was and the rest thinking about what an idiot I've become. I thought if I saw you, if you could forgive me, that I'd be… But I can see you don't even want to look at me. How could you? Shite."
Teddy fished in the pockets of his large plaid coat to get a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out. He tapped out a cigarette, placed it nervously between his lips, and fumbled with his lighter. Ginny plucked the fag from his lips and fixed him with a dark look.
"That's illegal in here, Teddy," she admonished. But with a sigh, she gestured outside. "Want to take a walk?"
"Yeah." Teddy stumbled off his stool. "That'd be brilliant."
After leaving a couple pounds on the counter for his tab, Teddy followed Ginny out into the cold, snowing night. They walked down the sidewalk in relative silence; Ginny let Teddy light up to calm his nerves before she spoke.
"So you smoke and drink too much," she said, shrugging. "There are worse vices."
Teddy laughed, his chuckle nervous and off. "Yeah. Bet Harry would've hated it, though."
"Probably." Ginny glanced sidelong at him and offered a tight smile. "Harry just wanted what was best for you. I know it didn't always seem like it, but he respected you so much. He considered you a friend, and that's a considerable honour."
"I know." Teddy inhaled and let the smoke puff out naturally as he spoke. "I wish… I mean, there's so much I wish, so much I know was my fault, so much that was beyond my control. I fell into some bad shite, got in so much trouble after you guys kicked me out."
Ginny stopped walking and turned to face Teddy, letting her gaze wash over his dishevelled appearance and the red rims around his eyes. He looked haggard, like he'd been running from ghosts that managed to catch up with him.
"That was Harry's doing," Ginny admitted. "I didn't really fight for you, though. We were both so angry. After all we'd told you, all the history and honest stories from the war, you went and stole the wand and the Cloak, were terrorizing Muggles, for Merlin's sake. I thought you needed therapy; Harry thought you needed a good kick in the arse. But that's how he grew up, and I know he felt bad later for throwing you out. He thought he was turning into his uncle. In the end, when you just disappeared, we both figured it was for the best. As time went on… I mean, of course we wondered what happened to you, hoped you were okay, but the things you did, the things you said… I dunno, Teddy. I know it wasn't the best thing to do, but you weren't keen on listening to us, either, so what good would it have done just slapping your wrist for it?"
Teddy shook his head. "I know, I know. I can't wish hard enough to erase the past, Ginny. Fuck knows I've tried. But I'm different now. I just want to start over or at least be a welcome face in the Potter house again."
Ginny's frown stretched across her face. She watched the smoke from Teddy's cigarette curl into the air and above their heads. Teddy sounded sincere, and Ginny wanted to believe him. The last thing she had ever wanted was for Teddy to grow up not knowing the kind of love she had known as a child. The large Weasley family continued to be a source of support for her, through everything.
"I haven't even been able to visit his grave," Teddy added, staring down at his worn trainers with the sort of pensive, sullen look Remus had been capable of. As little as Ginny had known Remus, Harry had always pointed out how closely Teddy resembled his father at times. "I feel horrible… but I don't want to let him go. I kept thinking he would write, he would apologize, and then when I realized what I had lost because of what I did, all I wanted was to be in your family's good graces once more."
Ginny grabbed the cigarette from Teddy's lips and stomped it out under the heel of her boot. "Start by cutting back on these," she said, pressing both hands to Teddy's cold, rosy cheeks. "And the alcohol, too, maybe?"
Teddy nodded, large eyes twinkling with tears. "Yeah, I can do that."
"And a visit to Harry's grave," Ginny added, searching Teddy's gaze. "With me."
A laugh let loose from Teddy's parted lips. He hung his head, shook it from side to side, and let the tears come. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I'd like that."
~*~
What does it mean to say goodbye? Leaving things unsaid from one conversation to the next, little secrets withheld until later dates, rain checks and fears piling up on the table between husband and wife, brother and sister, godfather and son, friend and father. They are lost to the winds, tucked under dirty rugs, stuffed in nooks and crannies of consciousness until there's nowhere left to hide the little things that begin to clutter the trust and acceptance that makes them whole.
From somewhere beyond, the spirits know that things must pass. Everything does. Breaths fade, flowers wither, strings are cut-everything dies, in time. Nothing is safe from the end of things; it is how you spend the time between the first breath and the last that signifies meaning, that fosters legend.
Harry Potter did a lot of noble, wonderful, selfless things while he lived. In the memories of those who loved him, he lives forever.
~*~
Ginny knew where it existed. There was no doubt in her mind as she walked through the dark, empty hallways of the Ministry of Magic, that she was doing the right thing. She had put it off, put it out of mind, but it was healthy. It would help.
"You'll be all right?" Kingsley asked, pressing his hand on Ginny's shoulder.
Staring at the office for the Minister for Magic, Ginny froze. She counted each breath she took, chewed on the inside of her lip, and remembered what it was like to be so scared of something that no amount of physical or emotional support could ease the anxiety. She remembered standing in the Room of Requirement with Harry, running through the passage under the Whomping Willow with Neville, writing her deepest desires into Tom Riddle's diary, but nothing felt as horrible as standing in front of a simple office.
"Yeah," Ginny exhaled, closing her eyes to brace herself for what needed to be done.
"I'll wait outside for you. Take all the time you need."
With a nod, Ginny stood still for a moment before she pressed the large doors open and walked into the office. Instead of dwelling on the memories she had of standing there with Kingsley and Harry when he'd been offered the position of Auror, then Head Auror, and finally when Kingsley had told her Harry was dead, Ginny made her quick way to the row of portraits that lined the walls. Kingsley surrounded himself with the most intelligent and well-respected names in Wizarding history, and Ginny knew that a new portrait would sit amongst the others now: a portrait of Harry Potter.
As she approached, Ginny spotted the slouch of the handsome shoulders she would know anywhere, Harry's salt-and-peppered head bowed as he slept. The thick-rimmed glasses that had become a staple of Wizarding subculture had slid down the bridge of his strong nose, and his Auror robes were pressed and dignified. It looked for a moment as if Harry were simply asleep through the looking glass, adrift in another world. Ginny forgot herself and reached out to touch the sharp jut of his jaw. Her fingers pressed uselessly against the canvas, which rippled under her touch.
Harry jolted awake with a light noise. He sat up as Ginny stepped back and pushed the glasses up so he could see her better. A wide, familiar smile spread across his lips. The twinkle in his eyes that had long ago drawn Ginny to him lacked the same lustre it'd had when he was alive, but he was there, looking at her, perfectly animated in the canvas, held together by the wood of the ornate frame.
"Hello, Ginny," he said, smile breaking into a grin. "I wondered when you'd come see me."
Choking on her reply, Ginny leaned forward and let her forehead fall against the canvas. Both hands rose, touching all the places she could never reach him again. As she sobbed, she tried not to watch the smile fade from Harry's lips, tried not to notice the bob of his Adam's apple, or the lowering of his eyes as he gazed at her. But she saw everything, and he looked just as he did months ago, still so vibrant in her arms.
"Oh, Ginny," he whispered. "It's all right…"
Harry was a man of few words, had never been great with consoling her emotionally, never knew how to respond if she broke down into tears. It would have made her laugh if it wasn't another sorrowful reminder that Harry was gone and would never helplessly attempt to make her feel better again.
Ginny looked up find Harry's fingers trying to comb through her hair. His gnarled fingers jabbed awkwardly against the canvas.
"I can't, er, touch you," he said. "I wish I could."
"I wish you could, too, Harry," she whispered, wiping her tears and stroking the place where his palm lay flat. If she willed herself, she could almost feel the heat of his skin on her own. It was a horrible illusion, a trick. "I miss you. So much."
Harry frowned and pulled his hand back. "I know. Kingsley said you're handling it okay, though. I always ask about you." He offered a shrug and a smile. "Can't do much else but wait."
Ginny bit her lip to keep from sobbing anew. Inhaling, she could almost smell him, could almost smell the aftershave and the sweat and just the scent that still clung to his side of the bed sometimes or wafted through the air or remained in his robes and jumpers.
"I didn't think I could," she said. "It's bad enough, visiting your grave…"
"It's by my parents, right?" Harry asked, almost eagerly. "Kingsley said it was a really nice ceremony until the damned reporters got in."
"It was really nice," Ginny said, laughing a bit. "Hagrid nearly took down the tent while he blew his nose, Scorpius gave a eulogy, and I was trashed out of my wits."
"You?" Harry teased. "Never."
It was nice to smile again in Harry's presence, to joke with him, to be teased, to see him happy. She wondered when the portrait had been made, at what point in their failed marriage Harry had sat down for it, what he knew of his life and kids and career.
"The kids miss you," Ginny added. "And Scorpius, too."
"I know. Al, James, and Lily came by with your parents after the ceremony, and Scorpius just a few weeks ago. The kids looked good, but Scorpius… He didn't seem to take it too well."
"None of them ever told me that they…" Ginny bowed her head, rested her cheek to his portrait, and sighed. "Scorpius loved you. A lot. I never realized how much until all this."
"The Malfoys need to yank the sticks from up their arses if you ask me," Harry growled, sitting back to watch Ginny. "Scorpius is such a good kid. He could have had a great family, like ours."
Ginny looked up, eyes wide. "You think our family was great?"
"Still is," Harry said. "You're a brilliant mum, and I was a pretty good dad, right? I mean, James and Albus didn't kill either other, Lily's balanced, and even if you and I weren't picture perfect, I think we'd have managed."
With a vigorous nod, Ginny's smile lit up the room. The elation from his praise sparked through her like a bolt of lightning. Instantly, all the anxiety she felt about seeing Harry like this melted away. Shoulders slumped, she allowed herself to really relax, and then looked at Harry with awed admiration.
"You're still so beautiful when you're happy," Harry sighed. "Are you? Happy?"
"I didn't want to lose you," Ginny argued. "So, no, I'm not. But I'm working on it."
"Good. Because there's nothing worse than dying except dying and knowing everyone's miserable when you're gone." Harry shrugged. "Go out. Enjoy life. Have fun. Merlin knows if anyone deserves it, it's you, Gin."
As they talked, Ginny lost herself in the magic that hung like an aura around Harry's portrait. For an hour, they laughed and cried and shared secrets and came to terms with faults and forgiveness. Ginny told Harry about Teddy, explained that he'd be coming around to visit more often and possibly going with James to see Charlie about a job that would keep his hands much busier than any cigarette ever could. Emotions laid bare, Ginny left with hope in her heart that even if things couldn't be perfect yet, she had the rest of her family to surround herself with and half a lifetime more to attain the happiness she desired.
And there was Scorpius. Ginny hoped whatever they had shared in a moment of passion might be more than just a one-night stand, that between their pain and misunderstanding they could find some tether of happiness.
With a heavy exhalation, Ginny exited the Minister for Magic's office with a smile fresh on her lips.
~*~
This is not a happily ever after story. After the death of a lover, no one is ever the same. A little piece of them will remain always, buried deep down or embraced closed to the chest like a shield.
Ghosts stay for a reason-they choose to remain, to stay behind, to fear moving on. They are scared all the time, and it is not an easy afterlife, to forever wander aimlessly through the dark and cold fog of the in-between places, never again to touch or taste or feel.
Harry is happy in his choice. Ginny is happy knowing he made the right decision. Without each other, life spins into motion.
~*~
Standing outside Scorpius' small flat, Ginny hesitated before she drew her fist up to knock at his door. Three raps at the dark wood was all it took; a moment after, the door creaked open, and Scorpius stared blankly at her.
"Ginny," he said, pale eyes sweeping over her from head to toe in concern. "Are you all right? Do you want to come in?"
"Yeah, that'd be great."
Sliding in through the barely open door, Ginny didn't bother looking around the flat-she'd seen it before when Albus had lived with him, before his job at the Ministry set him up with a better one farther away. She knew the chipping peels of paint by heart, the rusted balcony and skinny hallways, too.
"What's, er, going on?" he asked, immediately distancing himself from Ginny under the guise of picking up some dirty laundry from the couch cushions.
"I'm sorry… about Friday."
Scorpius went very still. His blue eyes hesitated as they swept over her again. When he shook his head, Ginny could almost see him working through what he would say before the words came out.
"Don't be. It was my fault. I waited too long, and it's okay. I figured you were, um, you know, not ready." He cleared his throat. "Really. It's fine. You didn't need to come here just to tell me that."
"Well, I didn't really say any of that, did I?"
Scorpius shook his head slowly. "No… Not exactly. Then, why are you here, Ginny?"
"To apologize, as I've done, and to see if you'd be willing to take a rain check." At his hesitation, Ginny drew a tentative step forward, careful to move with enough lethargy so she wouldn't spook him. "Teddy owled, wanted to meet up, and after a good talk, we went to visit Harry's grave together. We ironed some things out, and I really needed to do that. I hope you understand-it wasn't that I didn't want to see you. Merlin knows that's not true."
"Oh." Scorpius looked away, a delicate flush on his cheeks. "Oh. I thought-"
"I know." She laughed, disregarding pretence to clear the space between them in several strides. "I know exactly what you thought, Scorpius, because it's what I thought that morning after you left."
"I didn't mean to," Scorpius whispered. Ginny's hand cupped his cheek, and he exhaled, eyes closing as he shook his head. "I woke up and I felt so bloody guilty-I thought about Harry, about how you must be feeling, of all the times that I wanted you and knew it was impossible… I just ran. I thought I wouldn't be good enough."
"Oh, Scorpius." Ginny leaned in, pressed her lips to Scorpius' mouth and hummed as they shared a tender kiss. When she pulled away, she held his gaze and smiled. "I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm not even asking you to move back in. In fact, I think you should stay here. I'll visit, you'll visit-we can date like normal people."
Scorpius tried to kiss her lips again, but Ginny pulled away, tapping his lips with her forefinger.
"Like normal people who take things slow."
Scorpius grinned. "Ah, right, slow." He wound his fingers through her hair. "I can handle slow."
"Good. And one more thing." Ginny gestured to Scorpius' dining table, where she knew he kept a stash of writing supplies. "You are going to owl your father and invite yourself to dinner at the Manor."
"I…" Scorpius cringed a bit, shaking his head. "What if he says no?"
"Then at least you tried," Ginny said. "I know he loves you, and your mum, too. Trust me-there is absolutely nothing any of my children could say or do that could deter me from loving them. Even when I'm mad, even when I wanted to smack or spank them, I always loved them deep down. Your parents are no different."
"It's been… five years."
"Five years to rip the sticks out of their arses," Ginny grumbled, rolling her eyes. The look in Scorpius' eyes struck her. "What?"
"You sounded just like Harry," he said, smiling.
"Yeah? Well if that's what it takes, I'm glad."
As Ginny took Scorpius' hand and led him to the table, she knew things were about to change. Dating Scorpius wouldn't be easy, wouldn't erase the sadness she felt in losing Harry, and if it lasted long enough for her children or the papers to catch wind of it, Ginny knew all hell would break loose. But it was worth it, in that moment, to watch Scorpius write his father a letter for the first time in five years.
Ginny hoped it would be worth it in the long run, too.
~*~
Once upon a time, there was a man named Harry Potter. Then, one day, there simply wasn't. In time, that was okay.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~20,000
Pairing(s): Ginny/Scorpius [other pairings as backgrounds, including established canon relationships]
Warnings: major character death (Harry), ADW: 47/22 for Ginny/Scorpius
Summary: Once there was a man named Harry Potter. Then, one day, there wasn't.
Author’s notes: Written for hereticalvision for hp_nextgen_fest 2010.
Huger than huge thanks go out to the mods for putting up with my slacking muse and of course to my beautiful beta, literaryspell-you are a doll and a half for being able to stand my blatant abuse of adverbs and massive canonfail. <3
Where the Rift Mends
A month passed in relative contentment. While the arrangement had originally been for Scorpius to stay for a few weeks, neither Ginny nor Scorpius ever mentioned him leaving, so he just stayed on. For Ginny, it was nice not to be alone, and when Albus, James, or Lily came by, she felt like she had a family again, that her life was slowly beginning to put itself back together. For Scorpius, it was an escape from the lonely solitude of his flat, a chance to stay with someone who cared for him.
In the mornings, Scorpius often made breakfast. In the evenings, they made dinner together or had Indian take away. They played Quidditch with Albus, James, and Lily, visited the Burrow on weekends to see Hermione, Ron, and their kids, and stayed up late almost every evening talking. Scorpius liked to hear about Ginny's work for the Prophet, asked her about every detail of the Quidditch matches, even though he admitted he wasn't really a fan.
Scorpius returned to the Ministry for work, recounting that it was the most tedious job in the history of quill pushing, but he would be able to work his way up. And with his eye on a future career with Albus in the Department of Mysteries, he had to work hard to get there. Both of them knew Albus got his job partially due to his surname; while he was a talented wizard, he had a foot in the door thanks to Harry.
Life continued for everyone. Ginny found it easier to bear talking about Harry in public, thinking of him in private, without anger, guilt, or wrecking sorrow gutting her.
After a big weekend dinner with the kids, Ginny was anxious to unwind with a glass of Elderflower wine or two, so she popped the cork from one of the Elderflower wines she'd been saving for a rainy day and poured a glass. Dressed down in a comfortable white camisole and blue-and-black plaid pyjama shorts, Ginny swished the wine around in her glass and inhaled the familiar lavender-and-fermented-berry scent before she tipped it back for a long drink. Already, she felt her muscles loosening and her mind warming to the idea of sitting around for an entire evening in lethargy.
Scorpius entered from the back door, brushing snow off of his boots as he stood in the threshold. He pulled off his hat, blond hair tousled and sticking up at odd ends.
"Al forgot his broom again," he announced with a roll of his eyes. They'd had a mid-afternoon Quidditch match in the backyard again. "Want me to lock it in the shed?"
"Yeah, probably for the best," Ginny said, leaning against the counter as she poured another glass. "The Muggle kids down the road are just dying to see what is so special about our brooms." She grinned. "Wouldn't want them to get too close to finding out."
Scorpius nodded and turned to go back out into the cold, but Ginny stopped him.
"Wait! Wait, forget that plan. Get the extra broom out and we'll have a race or two."
Scorpius' pale eyes widened as he snorted. "At this hour? In, er, that?" He nodded towards her shorts. "You'll freeze."
"When I was in training for the Harpies, I was dared to race Celestine Ceres in the nude when it was twenty below, so I think I can handle a bit of English winter cold."
"All-female nude Quidditch?" Scorpius said, biting at his grin. "I'd have liked to see that."
Smacking his arm as she grabbed a coat from the closet, Ginny gestured towards the door. "Sounds to me like you're afraid I'll win."
"Oh, no-I know you'll win. I'm not under any false pretences of your talent on a broom compared to mine." As Scorpius opened the shed and grabbed Ginny's broom to hand to her, he quirked one fine, blond brow. "Although, don't you think it's a bit of a one-sided competition if only one of us has trained and played professionally on one of the most vicious teams in the league and one of us never made it past lessons as a firstie?"
"Nonsense," Ginny replied, shrugging his fears off as she mounted her broom and kicked off.
The backyard at the Potter house had been one of the major selling points in purchasing it for Ginny, who had always adored the Burrow's sense of space and privacy. The ten acre plot was fenced in with tall gates and shielding charms to prevent the neighbourhood Muggles from seeing all the magic that went on in the backyard, allowing many a Quidditch game or race. From above, it all seemed both meaningless and special at the same time.
Whizzing through the air, Ginny shivered and damned Scorpius for being right. It was freezing, snow still clinging to the bushes and flowers below, but at the same time, the cold air was freeing in a way. It had only been a little over a month since Harry's death, and she hadn't afforded herself any opportunities to really feel foolishly alive since. Work was work: she had begun to travel again to the Quidditch matches, and things were moving in the right direction. But that didn't mean she'd had the chance to feel the air in her lungs or the beat of her heart or the ache in her gut that meant she was pulsing with life and thankful for the chance.
Scorpius caught up to her relatively quickly and spun the tail of Al's broom to nudge her own. Their eyes met, and Ginny grinned.
"To the end of the fence and back. Ready?" she called over a particularly rough gust of wind.
"Do I have a choice?"
"Nope."
Biting back a laugh, Ginny gripped the handle of her broomstick. Beneath her fingers, the broom responded to her touch, all warmth and shuddering acceptance of her dominance over it. There was a distinct reason why riding a broom was one of Ginny's favourite things in the world.
Gaze caught, they counted together in some silent agreement of when the race should begin and took off at the start of it, both of their bodies bent doubled over and close to the handles of their broomsticks. The wind made it difficult, but Ginny took an early start and didn't let up on her easy advantage. Eyes focused, her red hair whipped wildly behind her in long waves of speed, snapping and lashing against the night sky.
Whizzing to the fence, she chanced a quick look over her shoulder and saw Scorpius struggling on Al's broom, laying nearly flat to the handle to will magic into the wood. The look on his face made something catch in Ginny's throat, caused a sting at the back of her eyes. Harry looked just like that so long ago, lost in the passion of the race, the sizzle of magic, the hard bite of the winds, the pulse of the wood, and the hunger to win, to capture, to defeat.
In her moment of contemplation, Scorpius began to gain some ground, but they had reached the end of the fence by then, so Ginny whipped the tail of her broom around with a hard kick and fierce lean of her body. Thighs clenched tight against the wood, she whizzed past Scorpius with her nostrils flaring and jaw tight. It had been years since she had lost a race, even to Harry, and Scorpius had never even been on a team.
The two of them, Harry and Scorpius, were so different. There was no reason for Ginny to think it, to even draw any comparisons at all between them, but she couldn't help the odd drop of her stomach when she thought of Scorpius losing the race, dismounting breathlessly, his legs surely trembling and weak, sweat upon his brow, and cheeks red. Against her better judgment, she thought of how nice his blond hair might look washing over his forehead as he tried to tuck the errant stands behind his thin ears. She even thought of her own fingers combing through the tangles, easing them into place, her cold fingertips pressing to his warm, warm scalp, of the day she kissed him after Harry's funeral and how he hadn't moved a muscle except to push her away.
Despite the loss of concentration, Ginny easily won the impromptu race and turned her broom to watch Scorpius come in panting afterward. The grimace on his face and the wobble of the broom under his weight made her grin.
"So," she hummed, drawing closer and sweeping her eyes over him. "There is something Scorpius Malfoy isn't good at. Didn't think it'd be Quidditch. Your father was-"
"A fantastic Seeker, I know," Scorpius drawled, pointed features flushed in a way that made Ginny's heart stop. "Please, you don't have to rub it in. You're brilliant. I knew that going in. I was just trying not to fall off and embarrass myself."
"Well, it is Al's broom," she conceded.
"Al's fantastic broom with my lousy lack of talent," Scorpius added, rolling his eyes even though a grin threatened to break. As he sat up on the shaft and gripped the wood in one hand, he brushed his blond hair back with the other. Ginny's eyes followed every twist and curl of his hair. "Anyway, are you quite done? I'm going to freeze my bollocks off, and you'll be nothing more than a pretty icicle on a broomstick if we don't get inside soon."
Ginny started. Nobody had called her 'pretty' in years. She had been pretty once upon a time, when she was Scorpius' age, before the kids, before the stress of the marriage, before Harry died.
"You think I'm pretty?" she whispered, frowning.
Scorpius coloured. "Oh, no-I mean, yes, of course you're pretty, but…" He sighed, a delicate white puff exhaling from his lean, pink mouth. "I'm sorry."
Ginny's broom vibrated under her touch as she guided it forward as slowly as she dared. Maybe Scorpius would spook. Maybe she ought to go inside and put on something decent. Maybe Scorpius hadn't meant anything by that. Maybe it was time for Ginny to grow up and stop pretending all things were possible at her age, even second chances.
The hard-contoured handle of Ginny's broom rubbed wantonly against the delicate-curved handle of Al's broom, and Ginny felt a jolt of something stir inside her bones. Scorpius looked at her like he thought he'd seen a ghost, like he wanted to bolt but didn't know a nice way to ask if he could, like he wasn't expecting her to lean in and press her hand over the shudder of his wrist to still him or lean in until her breath mingled white with his and then it didn't because they kissed to smother it.
Unlike their previous kiss, Scorpius eagerly returned it, his tongue swiping over the crease of her lips like he knew just what she wanted. Rushed with the overwhelming excitement sizzling through her body, Ginny pulled herself closer, until their legs and brooms and arms were touching, and gripped a handful of his white-blond hair until he made a noise. With a jolt, Scorpius pushed forward. Their teeth knocked clumsily, but the noise of it like a clash in the wind only made Ginny want Scorpius all the more.
Both hands gripped at Scorpius' body, touching all the places to claim them-his imperfect and bony shoulders, his sharp jaw, his long throat, the tender flesh hidden beneath cloak and jumper. Carelessly, she tore at him like a wild animal until her bare fingers met his bare flesh and then growled in triumph at the noise she elicited from him.
Scorpius was the first to break the hot, wet kiss to make a sloppy trail over her neck and to the fleshy part of her ear lobe. He drew it between his teeth, flicked his tongue along the cold-hot skin, and Ginny ground down against the broom for something more. Already her hands were sliding up his thighs, seeking everything from him. Her body felt warm all over, despite the frigid reality of the temperature in the backyard.
A gust of wind rocked them, Ginny bit Scorpius' lower lip, and then somehow they were on their feet on the ground but no less frantic to touch and claim and kiss and mark. Ginny gripped Scorpius' hair with both hands, dug her fingers through his hair and to his scalp just like she'd pictured, dragged his head back so she could mouth down to the jut and bob of his Adam's apple. Fitting her lips around it, she sucked, delighted by the visceral grunt that escaped Scorpius' lips.
Scorpius never sounded like this. Never. Not for anybody else. It was with this knowledge that Ginny grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the kitchen door, through it, and into the warmth of the house.
Broomsticks forgotten against the floor, Ginny had Scorpius pressed to the door before it had even closed. Slamming his body against it, the locks clicked into place behind his back, and Scorpius arched away from them and into Ginny's firm, wanting figure. She was still as toned as she could maintain after years of vigorous eating and exercising habits for the Harpies, and for the first time in over twenty-seven years, she wondered if she was attractive. What if Scorpius didn't like the hard muscles in her abdomen or her tight, small breasts?
Scorpius panted as Ginny pulled away and yanked the cloak from his skinny body. Clothes began to pool on the floor, until Scorpius stood in jumper, pants, and socks, the hard contour of his erect cock stretching the fabric of his black underwear. Eagerly, she palmed him, eyes darting over his pale mouth, parted in an ever-present 'o', stretched around the letter as if in agony-but she knew better.
Her fingers fit over his long length, massaging him through the thin material of his pants, pinching the bulbous, soft head between thumb and forefinger. At that, Scorpius jerked, bony hips bucking off the wall and towards her. Hands tangled in her long, red hair, gripping and guiding until their mouths met again and Scorpius sloppily kissed the breath from her. Despite the growing dizziness swirling through her body, Ginny continued to rub at Scorpius's dick and when it seemed he wouldn't pull away to help her, she struggled her hand into his pants and pulled his erection free, nudging his pants down with her free hand so they caught at his skinny thighs.
When Scorpius grunted, Ginny stole the opportunity from him and nudged his head back against the door with animalistic tenacity. Scorpius simply didn't stand a chance as her mouth bit and sucked down the tight lines of his jaw and over the white of his throat. She left angry red bites in her wake, but Scorpius never said stop, so she didn't. Instead, she bit harder, sucked firmer, licked sloppier, until Scorpius's entire face, neck and chest were blotched with love bites and a flush that had him gasping for air. In her hand, Scorpius had hardened completely, his pale dick arched up to his stomach, sticky-sweat at the red head, veins prominent and pulsing under her palm. He made noises like a creature running on passion alone, as if he was completely submissive to her whims.
Finally, Ginny managed to let go of him long enough to struggle out of her pyjama bottoms. Embarrassment crept over her freckled cheeks and flushed her throat as she revealed the simple purple-and-black panties and her too-big thighs, bulging with muscles that she knew had always made Harry uncomfortable. No man wanted a woman with muscles-they wanted soft and curvaceous and feminine, not hard-bodied and masculine and toned.
But when she looked up, Scorpius's fingers were twitching at his sides, and the look in his eyes flashed with something she had never seen before. She wondered if he… Had he ever? Certainly, she would not be the first to… But he wanted her. That much was undeniably clear as his pale gaze swept her over from the fiery crown of her red hair to the paint at the tips of her toes.
Neither of them said a word. Ginny wondered if she should be sensible and call this off before it got out of hand-then she saw Scorpius palming his dick and knew they were too far gone already. Before she could beckon him close, Scorpius closed the scant distance between their bodies as if guided by magnetic force and crashed into her, shoving her against the island counter. Half-bent over it, Ginny was assaulted by Scorpius's frantic, breathless kisses, and she groaned as his fingers pressed firmly between her legs, a good guess or perfect mistake when he rubbed the thin material of her pants over her blood-rushed clit.
Gasping for him, Ginny drew her leg up, and Scorpius gripped under her thigh with his free hand, keeping her suspended on one leg as he teased and pleasured her. Arched onto her very tip-toes, Ginny abandoned the counter for balance and used Scorpius's scrawny shoulders instead. She thrust and ground and bucked into him, letting his nimble fingers push too hard or slide too softly against all the places on her body that were warm with want. When he let her go, she let out a disappointed whine.
Despite the disappointment, there was a rush of clear, focused adrenaline. She remembered this part. This was the rush of being shoved against the wall or into the mattress, being held down and taken, being ravaged and fucked, being driven to the end of her sanity and beyond, head thrown over the bed, springs creaking, sweat streaming between lean bodies, muscles strained and breath caught and eyes rolled.
But Scorpius didn't move. For a silent moment, he stood still, and only when Ginny's eyes raked over his own did he slip to his knees before her. This… this was new. This was not the kind of thing Harry normally did, but at the sight of Scorpius's pale blond head bowed before her, Ginny couldn't stop the grunt that slipped from her lips. She tried to say something, to tell Scorpius yes, please, go on, but the only noises falling free were lost to incoherence in her excitement. Between her legs, she could feel wetness and heat swelling, the pain of it intense and acute, a desperate rush of blood and arousal to the lips of her opening and the hard round of her clit.
Without waiting for directions, Scorpius yanked the crotch of Ginny's knickers aside, exposing the red, swollen folds of her vagina. He leaned in without hesitation and pressed his mouth to her opening, and Ginny gasped as she gripped handfuls of his perfect hair to tug and centre herself. She felt as though she would collapse if he went on but that she would explode if he stopped. Wordlessly, she abandoned his hair with sloppy haste and reached down to spread her lips obscenely for him.
"No."
It was the first word spoken between them in so long that it frightened Ginny, coming out of the silence like that. Scorpius's voice was gruff and growling, the word a single command that Ginny mutely obeyed. Scorpius pulled her hands away and pressed them firmly against the counter near her hips. He held them there as if to say stay, though he didn't need to say it for Ginny to know it was what they both wanted.
Slowly, Scorpius's hands swept up the insides of Ginny's thighs, over the hard curves of her muscles, and he pressed his thumbs into the line between groin and thigh tenderly, as if massaging. The gentleness of his touch began to drive her wild, and though she ached to thrust her hips against his mouth again, she didn't want to move and break the tentative moment between them.
Finally, Scorpius seemed satisfied, and he jerked her knickers until they fell down at her ankles and spread her lips properly. His tongue was the first thing to sweep over her clit-his small, pink, wet, hot tongue, lapping up her juices lightly. His small tongue, followed by a puff of warm breath and then the whole of his face smothered against her, his teeth brushing her wet skin, entire mouth sucking against the length of her cunt, and finally his tongue again, probing right into her without question or pause.
With a shout, Ginny's nails dragged against the hard wood of the counter cabinets as she fought to keep her hands away from herself. It had been years since a man had done this to her, years since she had felt so dangerously close to the brink of orgasm in such a short time, and she itched to rub two fingertips just under the ball of her clit and bring herself off. Already her legs were quaking, hips jutting towards Scorpius, head lolling back and forth, lips parted and jaw slack in pleasure. It was only then that Scorpius's fingers slid from the upper fold of her lips down further between her legs and right into her slick, hot slit.
"Oh-oh!" she gasped, fingers flying from the cabinets to take control of the back of his head with both hands. She gripped hard, forced her clit into the suction of his taut lips, and bucked wildly.
Scorpius let loose a muffled moan that only further succeeded in heightening Ginny's pleasure as it reverberated against her sex. One last buck and swipe of his tongue, cat-like against the underside of her clit, and she came. Folding over Scorpius's form, she clenched her fingers through every tangle of hair she could hold, thrust in jolting undulations as she smeared her cunt on his mouth and face. She rode his slim fingers as she rocked through her climax and eventually shoved him away when the pressure became too much and she crumpled, weak-kneed, to the floor beside him.
Ankles caught in her panties, Ginny gripped Scorpius by his cheeks and pulled him in to lick the taste of her orgasm from his mouth and jaw and chin. She was still aching inside, as if she hadn't come at all, so she crawled closer and ravaged his mouth to show him she wasn't done. One hand abandoned his face to seek out his dick, calloused fingers wrapping around the base and stroking in one slow motion to the head and back. Against her mouth, Scorpius whined, and the noise drove Ginny wild. With a laugh, she crawled over his body and shoved him to the kitchen floor.
Straddling his waist was easy-getting Scorpius to lie still and not thrust up into her was much more difficult. She found him eagerly thrashing under her as she jerked his stiff length off too slowly to let him climax. She had a wild, immediate desire to let him shoot off inside her. How long had it been since she'd let Harry do that? How long since they had fooled around in such a rush? Since she let Harry enter her ass instead or suck him until her lips were raw and swollen? In an impulsive rush, she wanted to do everything to Scorpius, to let him do everything to her, to discover the weird little parts of his sexual perversions that he kept hidden from everyone else, to share her own with him and allow him into her in every intimate way imaginable.
"Please," Scorpius said, finally wrestling the control away from Ginny enough to grip both of her wrists. He held them out to her sides, sat up to nip at her mouth, even when she laughed and pulled away so he couldn't kiss her. "Please, let me-"
"Let you do what, exactly?"
Scorpius' eyes flashed with a feral look, but his expression went slack, as if torn between raunchy honesty or the watered-down version. Ginny wondered how he liked it. If he was the slow, sensual type who wanted to push her on her back and slide between her legs. Or maybe he was just like this, hard and passionate and a little too eager, desperate to make his partners scream. It had been so long, Ginny would have done whatever it was he preferred.
"I want to be inside you," he said. "Have wanted it for so long… felt like such a freak… I didn't think-"
"Shh…"
Ginny watched Scorpius' skinny chest rise and fall with every deep breath he sucked in and let out. His lips parted, eyes searched, and the grip on her wrists loosened. Taking the opportunity Scorpius afforded her, Ginny twined their fingers and slammed his hands down flat against the cold kitchen floor. She held him there just a short minute, long enough to show him she wanted his hands to stay there when she let go. Scorpius' fingers twitched without hers holding them in place, but he remained where she put him as her hands touched his face, roamed down over his throat, under his shirt to feel the flat of his stomach, and finally rested on his skinny hips.
Leaning back, she took hold of his erection, lifted herself up, and sank down onto him. It hurt a little, getting used to the sheer length of Scorpius' dick and the immediate thrust of his hips to bury himself to the hilt. Arched, she cried out and let go of his erection once it rested in her body. She took the time to feel the way he filled and stretched her, then pressed both hands to his hips to steady herself as she lifted, pulled off, and sank back again and again and again.
The lethargy of her movements was a strict contradiction to the eagerness of Scorpius' sharp bucks, but somehow they fell into a rhythm. Ginny's body rose and fell, and her hands swept over his stomach and under his shirt to claw at his chest. When she opened her eyes, Scorpius was staring at her. His brows were furrowed, lips parted and curled, face contorted. It was exquisite, watching him gape at her with those wide, blue eyes. With her body bent, Ginny leaned down to catch his mouth for a searing kiss.
Scorpius finally moved his hands from where Ginny had positioned them; his fingers began to dig bruises into her skin. Their lips moved wet and rough, Ginny's hair fell in cascades over onto Scorpius' face, and their soft grunts filled the air between them.
It wasn't long before Ginny was drawing close to another orgasm; she knew all it would take would be the pressure of her fingers against her clit to send her into climax. But when she moved to touch herself, Scorpius slapped her hands away, wrenched her off his body and pinned her face-down on the floor. His dick rubbed in between her thighs, against her arse cheeks, and she felt the slickness of her own juices slithering out of her cunt.
"I love the way you smell," Scorpius said suddenly, breath hovering over Ginny's sex. "The way you taste."
She cried out when his tongue delved into her from behind, raised her hips to give him a better angle, and shuddered when he flicked his tongue over her clit. His mouth teased upwards, over her perineum, and she screamed anew, the sensation overwrought with so much pleasure that it almost hurt. Distracted, she didn't realize exactly when Scorpius spread her arse cheeks and thrust his tongue inside, but when he did, the noise she made was nearly inhuman. The sensation that jolted through her made Ginny's entire body flush with heat. Between her legs, her cunt throbbed painfully, blood rushing to all the places Scorpius had touched.
Scorpius took his time licking her arse, perineum, and slit, and then pressed two fingers into her cunt. Smearing her come from vagina to arse, Scorpius used her own juices to finger her arse, and it was then that Ginny began to beg. Almost incoherent, she began to whisper Scorpius' name with embarrassing pleas for him to fuck her arse, to rub her clit, to wipe her come all over her mouth-anything, as long as he'd get her off.
With a laugh, Scorpius finally abandoned her backside, fingers slipping out of Ginny's arse with a wet noise. She could feel her own come squishing in her arse when she shifted and didn't know if she should ask him to stop or beg him to go on when the head of his dick pressed to the pucker of her arsehole and slid inside.
Clawing at the kitchen floor, Ginny sobbed out Scorpius' name again and again, as if it were the only word she was capable of speaking. Sweat beaded down the small of her back, her clit and cunt throbbed for attention, and her arse began to welcome Scorpius' length into her.
"Is it… okay?" Scorpius panted. The strain of his voice was perfect, the low pitch a rumbling reminder that he was getting off on taking her exactly how he wanted.
"Yes, don't stop," Ginny growled. "Don't you dare stop."
Scorpius seemed to take her words to heart, but was clumsy when he thrust in the remaining distance. Ginny wasn't sure if that was because he hadn't had very much experience or because he just might love her and wanted to be careful. She didn't dare ask; instead, she arched her arse back towards him, inviting him to go further and harder. Snaking one hand between her legs, she found her clit, and when she rubbed her slick, come-covered fingers over it, the pleasure intensified tenfold.
"Oh-oh, Merlin," Scorpius ground out. "So-so tight… hot…"
That was all it took, just those simple and obvious words exhaled from Scorpius' thin lips, just the brief catch in his voice and the hard push of his hips to shove his dick in and out. Ginny clenched as she came for the second time that evening. Rubbing her clit furiously, she thrashed back, impaling herself on his length over and over until her body went numb.
When she came down, she half-collapsed, resting her forehead down against the cool tiles to ease the fever that overwhelmed every inch of her skin. Behind her, Scorpius continued to thrust, but he wasn't long in coming. Somewhere beyond the haze, Ginny managed to whisper, "Inside," before Scorpius came, his come spurting within her arse and squishing when he pulled out. Relaxed, she felt the come dribble out of her arse, a strange sort of embarrassment rolling over her.
Scorpius didn't seem to mind or think it was weird as he lay down flat on his back and exhaled. Ginny turned to look at him, ran her gaze greedily over the sweat-dampened lines of his young body, wondering what the hell he wanted with a woman her age, with so much mental baggage, so much weighing her down. He was young, had a whole wonderful life ahead of him, and she was a mid-forties widow with three kids and empty nest syndrome.
Their eyes met. Scorpius breathed heavily as he propped himself up on one arm and rolled over to face her. So close she could smell the tea from dinner on his breath, Ginny couldn't resist stealing a quick kiss. It turned into something more when Scorpius' fingers gingerly dragged through her hair, combed through it, and cupped her cheek. They kissed for much longer than Ginny intended, but it was hard to pull away when Scorpius was so warm against her. Relishing the heat of his mouth, Ginny kissed him until fatigue washed over every limb and she realized they were lying half-naked in the middle of the kitchen.
Ginny pulled away, careful in her slow movements so she wouldn't spook Scorpius. He looked elated, eyes half-lidded and heavy as they raked over her body when she stood. Seeking out her wand, Ginny cast a few cleansing spells to rid the mess on her body and on Scorpius' before she sent their clothes flying into the laundry bin. She made her way into the living room, pointed her wand at the hearth, and lit a fire. When she glanced over her shoulder and saw Scorpius hesitating in the doorway, she smiled in invitation.
"Coming?" She waved at the couch, which lengthened and elongated into a queen-sized bed.
Ginny half-expected Scorpius to run off, to make up some excuse that nothing had even happened, to leave her there wondering what she'd done, but to her relief, he nodded. Pulling his shirt off, finally exposing the last inches of his boyish form to the dim firelight, Scorpius strode to her in the nude and tugged at the last remnants of her own clothes. Once they were both naked, they lay in bed together, shared a brief laugh, and allowed sleep to come.
~*~
When Harry was a boy, things were not easy but they were at least preordained. As he grew up, Harry learned that a simple, quiet life would never come without complications.
There was no part of Harry that wanted the heroics, but Legacy followed him to his grave. Asleep under the shade of thick-branched trees, Harry felt the first hint of normalcy he'd ever known. Not everyone could slay a dark lord, but everyone died-it was ordinary, just like breathing or falling asleep, and it was the reason no ghost of Harry Potter would ever haunt the Wizarding world.
Harry was at peace.
~*~
Waking up in an empty bed to an empty house was not exactly the morning-after experience Ginny had hoped for. If anything, Ginny had more of a right to tell Scorpius that what they'd done had been a mistake. Scorpius had no right to leave her like that, to sneak out of her house with suitcases packed, and leave her a note that said he was sorry. Ginny didn't even believe he was sorry-what good was a note when he could have told her in person that he regretted having sex with an old hag?
The note he left was wrinkled and awkwardly folded when she found it beside her in the large, makeshift bed in the morning. It read:
Ginny,
I'm sorry. I'm moving back to my flat. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you. Please forgive me.
Scorpius
For a few seconds, Ginny wondered why he bothered apologizing. It was pretty clear he either thought he'd made a terrible decision and regretted every second of their impromptu fuck and happy aftermath… or he was scared shitless. Ginny hadn't given him any reason or excuse to feel either of those things, but she knew what he was like, and even she couldn't deny it was possible that what they'd done had been a mistake.
Yet… it felt good. Ginny felt happy, loved, warm and comfortable in his presence. And it wasn't as if she had asked him to marry her or take Harry's place or any of those awful thoughts. Is that what he thought? That he was a rebound fuck? Even Ginny wasn't sure what he was, but certainly she was too old for rebounds.
At the kitchen table, Ginny drew out a quill and piece of parchment to begin a response. She wouldn't be foolish enough to run after him like a schoolgirl chasing her crush, but she wanted to ensure he knew she didn't think badly of him for what they'd done. In fact, she would have preferred it continue beyond a one-night stand.
In steady hand, she wrote:
Scorpius,
You owe me nothing. I don't expect you to stay here if you feel like you do. Take some time if you need it.
I'd like to see you again. I wish you wouldn't have left in a rush, but what can I do?
I won't wait forever. Please owl me.
Ginny
Maurice, the family owl, was cooing happily in his cage when Ginny found him. He hooted at her, flew to her side, and let her attach the letter to his leg.
"Find Scorpius and give this to him, hm?" she asked, ruffling the feathers under Maurice's chin.
He nipped her fingertips and flew off into the early morning.
A response wouldn't arrive until later that week, well after Ginny had decided Scorpius just wouldn't be able to handle anything more than a one-night stand. His response was short and to the point:
Ginny,
I'm sorry. I want to see you. Friday night, Indian food at Shiva's at eight?
Scorpius
A smile tugged the corners of Ginny's small mouth. She couldn't help the foreign sizzle of elation she felt in her heart that said maybe it was possible to move on. Dinner was a start.
~*~
Teddy waits for a response. He has been waiting for something his whole life. Waiting to be old enough to know more about his father, waiting to grow up, waiting for Harry to say he's sorry, waiting for Victoire to say yes, waiting for Ginny to answer his owls, waiting for the funeral date to pass, waiting and waiting and waiting for something.
He tries to bide his time, to pass it with insistent apologies and whispered confessions of all his guilt into the empty bottles that pass before his eyes on the bar.
Teddy writes another letter, scribbles it out, writes another, balls it in his fist to feel it crumble, writes another and sends it without thinking.
Lamenting the time it takes to be a better man, he waits.
~*~
The letter arrived, half-destroyed by the brutal winter weather. It ready Ginny Potter on the outside and in a small, scribbled scrawl, from Teddy Lupin in cursive on the back. It was Friday afternoon. She wondered if Teddy was somewhere drowning his sorrows in alcohol or bullying, completely alone in the world…or if Victoire was with him again, if he'd found someone new, if James, Lily, or Albus ever wrote to him.
Turning the letter over in her palm, she studied the dark parchment, sighed, and tore the damned thing open in one go. What use was there in ignoring him now? So much time had passed. Maybe Harry would have liked to know what Teddy had to say.
Dear Ginny,
I doubt your eyes will ever pass over these words, so I will just lay it all out:
I didn't go to the funeral because I didn't want to crowd you guys, and because I was scared.
I'm still scared.
Every day, I regret all the stupid things I did as a kid.
I know I let Harry down, let you and the kids down, too, but I've changed.
I wish I didn't drink so much-I'm trying to stop.
Victoire says I shouldn't smoke, but it keeps my hands busy.
I miss being a part your family.
If you can forgive me, if there is even the smallest part that thinks it's possible, please meet me at Rosine's Café in Muggle London tonight at seven. If you aren't there, I won't write again.
I'm sorry.
Yours,
Teddy
The words brought something to choke in Ginny's throat. She read the letter three times before she was satisfied and then rushed to the bread-box near the sink, where Scorpius had stashed Teddy's original letter. Holding it in her trembling fingers, Ginny tore the seal and read it through, hand over her mouth as she began to sob.
It was already half-past six. Hoping she would have enough time to meet Teddy and then see Scorpius afterward, Ginny ran upstairs and threw on a wool jumper, jeans, and boots. She fished out her scarf and gloves, twisted her hair back into a long plait to keep it from tangling, and grabbed her coat before she Apparated. The safe point where she would find herself was five blocks from the café, the one she remembered Harry had often taken Teddy when he'd been a boy.
By the time she arrived, the Muggle café was bustling with customers. Pairs on dates, kids blowing straws across private booths, and the scent of pastries and chai wafting in warmly from the bakery in back. Standing in the entryway, Ginny twisted the fringe of her brown scarf nervously. Maybe Teddy wouldn't show. She hadn't thought that he would stand her up, but it would be very like the old Teddy to write, to apologize, and then have it all be some horrible joke that wasn't funny.
The flash of blue hair at the counter told her she was wrong. Teddy was there, huddled over a large mug of coffee, picking idly at an oversized blueberry muffin. She wondered how long he had been there, waiting for her to stand him up. Head bowed, Ginny made her way to him and slid into the seat beside him without a word. Before either of them spoke, she felt his eyes drag over her and turned to see his blue hair singed with yellow at the tips.
"Hello, Teddy," she said, unable to keep the choke of emotion from catching in her voice. "All right?"
"I… didn't think you'd come. Not really. Not after I…"
Ginny cringed a little, turning away to peruse a menu, though she wasn't hungry at all.
"You look, er, good," Teddy added, toying with the spoon in his drink. "How are you?"
"All things considered, well. You?"
Teddy didn't answer right away. The chatter of the café washed over and between them. Finally, Ginny sighed and shifted to get up. Teddy's hand caught her wrist to still her.
"Miserable," he answered darkly. When their eyes met, she saw the red in his. "I'm so sorry. About Harry, about what I did when… about everything. I spend half my days thinking about what an idiot I was and the rest thinking about what an idiot I've become. I thought if I saw you, if you could forgive me, that I'd be… But I can see you don't even want to look at me. How could you? Shite."
Teddy fished in the pockets of his large plaid coat to get a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out. He tapped out a cigarette, placed it nervously between his lips, and fumbled with his lighter. Ginny plucked the fag from his lips and fixed him with a dark look.
"That's illegal in here, Teddy," she admonished. But with a sigh, she gestured outside. "Want to take a walk?"
"Yeah." Teddy stumbled off his stool. "That'd be brilliant."
After leaving a couple pounds on the counter for his tab, Teddy followed Ginny out into the cold, snowing night. They walked down the sidewalk in relative silence; Ginny let Teddy light up to calm his nerves before she spoke.
"So you smoke and drink too much," she said, shrugging. "There are worse vices."
Teddy laughed, his chuckle nervous and off. "Yeah. Bet Harry would've hated it, though."
"Probably." Ginny glanced sidelong at him and offered a tight smile. "Harry just wanted what was best for you. I know it didn't always seem like it, but he respected you so much. He considered you a friend, and that's a considerable honour."
"I know." Teddy inhaled and let the smoke puff out naturally as he spoke. "I wish… I mean, there's so much I wish, so much I know was my fault, so much that was beyond my control. I fell into some bad shite, got in so much trouble after you guys kicked me out."
Ginny stopped walking and turned to face Teddy, letting her gaze wash over his dishevelled appearance and the red rims around his eyes. He looked haggard, like he'd been running from ghosts that managed to catch up with him.
"That was Harry's doing," Ginny admitted. "I didn't really fight for you, though. We were both so angry. After all we'd told you, all the history and honest stories from the war, you went and stole the wand and the Cloak, were terrorizing Muggles, for Merlin's sake. I thought you needed therapy; Harry thought you needed a good kick in the arse. But that's how he grew up, and I know he felt bad later for throwing you out. He thought he was turning into his uncle. In the end, when you just disappeared, we both figured it was for the best. As time went on… I mean, of course we wondered what happened to you, hoped you were okay, but the things you did, the things you said… I dunno, Teddy. I know it wasn't the best thing to do, but you weren't keen on listening to us, either, so what good would it have done just slapping your wrist for it?"
Teddy shook his head. "I know, I know. I can't wish hard enough to erase the past, Ginny. Fuck knows I've tried. But I'm different now. I just want to start over or at least be a welcome face in the Potter house again."
Ginny's frown stretched across her face. She watched the smoke from Teddy's cigarette curl into the air and above their heads. Teddy sounded sincere, and Ginny wanted to believe him. The last thing she had ever wanted was for Teddy to grow up not knowing the kind of love she had known as a child. The large Weasley family continued to be a source of support for her, through everything.
"I haven't even been able to visit his grave," Teddy added, staring down at his worn trainers with the sort of pensive, sullen look Remus had been capable of. As little as Ginny had known Remus, Harry had always pointed out how closely Teddy resembled his father at times. "I feel horrible… but I don't want to let him go. I kept thinking he would write, he would apologize, and then when I realized what I had lost because of what I did, all I wanted was to be in your family's good graces once more."
Ginny grabbed the cigarette from Teddy's lips and stomped it out under the heel of her boot. "Start by cutting back on these," she said, pressing both hands to Teddy's cold, rosy cheeks. "And the alcohol, too, maybe?"
Teddy nodded, large eyes twinkling with tears. "Yeah, I can do that."
"And a visit to Harry's grave," Ginny added, searching Teddy's gaze. "With me."
A laugh let loose from Teddy's parted lips. He hung his head, shook it from side to side, and let the tears come. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I'd like that."
~*~
What does it mean to say goodbye? Leaving things unsaid from one conversation to the next, little secrets withheld until later dates, rain checks and fears piling up on the table between husband and wife, brother and sister, godfather and son, friend and father. They are lost to the winds, tucked under dirty rugs, stuffed in nooks and crannies of consciousness until there's nowhere left to hide the little things that begin to clutter the trust and acceptance that makes them whole.
From somewhere beyond, the spirits know that things must pass. Everything does. Breaths fade, flowers wither, strings are cut-everything dies, in time. Nothing is safe from the end of things; it is how you spend the time between the first breath and the last that signifies meaning, that fosters legend.
Harry Potter did a lot of noble, wonderful, selfless things while he lived. In the memories of those who loved him, he lives forever.
~*~
Ginny knew where it existed. There was no doubt in her mind as she walked through the dark, empty hallways of the Ministry of Magic, that she was doing the right thing. She had put it off, put it out of mind, but it was healthy. It would help.
"You'll be all right?" Kingsley asked, pressing his hand on Ginny's shoulder.
Staring at the office for the Minister for Magic, Ginny froze. She counted each breath she took, chewed on the inside of her lip, and remembered what it was like to be so scared of something that no amount of physical or emotional support could ease the anxiety. She remembered standing in the Room of Requirement with Harry, running through the passage under the Whomping Willow with Neville, writing her deepest desires into Tom Riddle's diary, but nothing felt as horrible as standing in front of a simple office.
"Yeah," Ginny exhaled, closing her eyes to brace herself for what needed to be done.
"I'll wait outside for you. Take all the time you need."
With a nod, Ginny stood still for a moment before she pressed the large doors open and walked into the office. Instead of dwelling on the memories she had of standing there with Kingsley and Harry when he'd been offered the position of Auror, then Head Auror, and finally when Kingsley had told her Harry was dead, Ginny made her quick way to the row of portraits that lined the walls. Kingsley surrounded himself with the most intelligent and well-respected names in Wizarding history, and Ginny knew that a new portrait would sit amongst the others now: a portrait of Harry Potter.
As she approached, Ginny spotted the slouch of the handsome shoulders she would know anywhere, Harry's salt-and-peppered head bowed as he slept. The thick-rimmed glasses that had become a staple of Wizarding subculture had slid down the bridge of his strong nose, and his Auror robes were pressed and dignified. It looked for a moment as if Harry were simply asleep through the looking glass, adrift in another world. Ginny forgot herself and reached out to touch the sharp jut of his jaw. Her fingers pressed uselessly against the canvas, which rippled under her touch.
Harry jolted awake with a light noise. He sat up as Ginny stepped back and pushed the glasses up so he could see her better. A wide, familiar smile spread across his lips. The twinkle in his eyes that had long ago drawn Ginny to him lacked the same lustre it'd had when he was alive, but he was there, looking at her, perfectly animated in the canvas, held together by the wood of the ornate frame.
"Hello, Ginny," he said, smile breaking into a grin. "I wondered when you'd come see me."
Choking on her reply, Ginny leaned forward and let her forehead fall against the canvas. Both hands rose, touching all the places she could never reach him again. As she sobbed, she tried not to watch the smile fade from Harry's lips, tried not to notice the bob of his Adam's apple, or the lowering of his eyes as he gazed at her. But she saw everything, and he looked just as he did months ago, still so vibrant in her arms.
"Oh, Ginny," he whispered. "It's all right…"
Harry was a man of few words, had never been great with consoling her emotionally, never knew how to respond if she broke down into tears. It would have made her laugh if it wasn't another sorrowful reminder that Harry was gone and would never helplessly attempt to make her feel better again.
Ginny looked up find Harry's fingers trying to comb through her hair. His gnarled fingers jabbed awkwardly against the canvas.
"I can't, er, touch you," he said. "I wish I could."
"I wish you could, too, Harry," she whispered, wiping her tears and stroking the place where his palm lay flat. If she willed herself, she could almost feel the heat of his skin on her own. It was a horrible illusion, a trick. "I miss you. So much."
Harry frowned and pulled his hand back. "I know. Kingsley said you're handling it okay, though. I always ask about you." He offered a shrug and a smile. "Can't do much else but wait."
Ginny bit her lip to keep from sobbing anew. Inhaling, she could almost smell him, could almost smell the aftershave and the sweat and just the scent that still clung to his side of the bed sometimes or wafted through the air or remained in his robes and jumpers.
"I didn't think I could," she said. "It's bad enough, visiting your grave…"
"It's by my parents, right?" Harry asked, almost eagerly. "Kingsley said it was a really nice ceremony until the damned reporters got in."
"It was really nice," Ginny said, laughing a bit. "Hagrid nearly took down the tent while he blew his nose, Scorpius gave a eulogy, and I was trashed out of my wits."
"You?" Harry teased. "Never."
It was nice to smile again in Harry's presence, to joke with him, to be teased, to see him happy. She wondered when the portrait had been made, at what point in their failed marriage Harry had sat down for it, what he knew of his life and kids and career.
"The kids miss you," Ginny added. "And Scorpius, too."
"I know. Al, James, and Lily came by with your parents after the ceremony, and Scorpius just a few weeks ago. The kids looked good, but Scorpius… He didn't seem to take it too well."
"None of them ever told me that they…" Ginny bowed her head, rested her cheek to his portrait, and sighed. "Scorpius loved you. A lot. I never realized how much until all this."
"The Malfoys need to yank the sticks from up their arses if you ask me," Harry growled, sitting back to watch Ginny. "Scorpius is such a good kid. He could have had a great family, like ours."
Ginny looked up, eyes wide. "You think our family was great?"
"Still is," Harry said. "You're a brilliant mum, and I was a pretty good dad, right? I mean, James and Albus didn't kill either other, Lily's balanced, and even if you and I weren't picture perfect, I think we'd have managed."
With a vigorous nod, Ginny's smile lit up the room. The elation from his praise sparked through her like a bolt of lightning. Instantly, all the anxiety she felt about seeing Harry like this melted away. Shoulders slumped, she allowed herself to really relax, and then looked at Harry with awed admiration.
"You're still so beautiful when you're happy," Harry sighed. "Are you? Happy?"
"I didn't want to lose you," Ginny argued. "So, no, I'm not. But I'm working on it."
"Good. Because there's nothing worse than dying except dying and knowing everyone's miserable when you're gone." Harry shrugged. "Go out. Enjoy life. Have fun. Merlin knows if anyone deserves it, it's you, Gin."
As they talked, Ginny lost herself in the magic that hung like an aura around Harry's portrait. For an hour, they laughed and cried and shared secrets and came to terms with faults and forgiveness. Ginny told Harry about Teddy, explained that he'd be coming around to visit more often and possibly going with James to see Charlie about a job that would keep his hands much busier than any cigarette ever could. Emotions laid bare, Ginny left with hope in her heart that even if things couldn't be perfect yet, she had the rest of her family to surround herself with and half a lifetime more to attain the happiness she desired.
And there was Scorpius. Ginny hoped whatever they had shared in a moment of passion might be more than just a one-night stand, that between their pain and misunderstanding they could find some tether of happiness.
With a heavy exhalation, Ginny exited the Minister for Magic's office with a smile fresh on her lips.
~*~
This is not a happily ever after story. After the death of a lover, no one is ever the same. A little piece of them will remain always, buried deep down or embraced closed to the chest like a shield.
Ghosts stay for a reason-they choose to remain, to stay behind, to fear moving on. They are scared all the time, and it is not an easy afterlife, to forever wander aimlessly through the dark and cold fog of the in-between places, never again to touch or taste or feel.
Harry is happy in his choice. Ginny is happy knowing he made the right decision. Without each other, life spins into motion.
~*~
Standing outside Scorpius' small flat, Ginny hesitated before she drew her fist up to knock at his door. Three raps at the dark wood was all it took; a moment after, the door creaked open, and Scorpius stared blankly at her.
"Ginny," he said, pale eyes sweeping over her from head to toe in concern. "Are you all right? Do you want to come in?"
"Yeah, that'd be great."
Sliding in through the barely open door, Ginny didn't bother looking around the flat-she'd seen it before when Albus had lived with him, before his job at the Ministry set him up with a better one farther away. She knew the chipping peels of paint by heart, the rusted balcony and skinny hallways, too.
"What's, er, going on?" he asked, immediately distancing himself from Ginny under the guise of picking up some dirty laundry from the couch cushions.
"I'm sorry… about Friday."
Scorpius went very still. His blue eyes hesitated as they swept over her again. When he shook his head, Ginny could almost see him working through what he would say before the words came out.
"Don't be. It was my fault. I waited too long, and it's okay. I figured you were, um, you know, not ready." He cleared his throat. "Really. It's fine. You didn't need to come here just to tell me that."
"Well, I didn't really say any of that, did I?"
Scorpius shook his head slowly. "No… Not exactly. Then, why are you here, Ginny?"
"To apologize, as I've done, and to see if you'd be willing to take a rain check." At his hesitation, Ginny drew a tentative step forward, careful to move with enough lethargy so she wouldn't spook him. "Teddy owled, wanted to meet up, and after a good talk, we went to visit Harry's grave together. We ironed some things out, and I really needed to do that. I hope you understand-it wasn't that I didn't want to see you. Merlin knows that's not true."
"Oh." Scorpius looked away, a delicate flush on his cheeks. "Oh. I thought-"
"I know." She laughed, disregarding pretence to clear the space between them in several strides. "I know exactly what you thought, Scorpius, because it's what I thought that morning after you left."
"I didn't mean to," Scorpius whispered. Ginny's hand cupped his cheek, and he exhaled, eyes closing as he shook his head. "I woke up and I felt so bloody guilty-I thought about Harry, about how you must be feeling, of all the times that I wanted you and knew it was impossible… I just ran. I thought I wouldn't be good enough."
"Oh, Scorpius." Ginny leaned in, pressed her lips to Scorpius' mouth and hummed as they shared a tender kiss. When she pulled away, she held his gaze and smiled. "I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm not even asking you to move back in. In fact, I think you should stay here. I'll visit, you'll visit-we can date like normal people."
Scorpius tried to kiss her lips again, but Ginny pulled away, tapping his lips with her forefinger.
"Like normal people who take things slow."
Scorpius grinned. "Ah, right, slow." He wound his fingers through her hair. "I can handle slow."
"Good. And one more thing." Ginny gestured to Scorpius' dining table, where she knew he kept a stash of writing supplies. "You are going to owl your father and invite yourself to dinner at the Manor."
"I…" Scorpius cringed a bit, shaking his head. "What if he says no?"
"Then at least you tried," Ginny said. "I know he loves you, and your mum, too. Trust me-there is absolutely nothing any of my children could say or do that could deter me from loving them. Even when I'm mad, even when I wanted to smack or spank them, I always loved them deep down. Your parents are no different."
"It's been… five years."
"Five years to rip the sticks out of their arses," Ginny grumbled, rolling her eyes. The look in Scorpius' eyes struck her. "What?"
"You sounded just like Harry," he said, smiling.
"Yeah? Well if that's what it takes, I'm glad."
As Ginny took Scorpius' hand and led him to the table, she knew things were about to change. Dating Scorpius wouldn't be easy, wouldn't erase the sadness she felt in losing Harry, and if it lasted long enough for her children or the papers to catch wind of it, Ginny knew all hell would break loose. But it was worth it, in that moment, to watch Scorpius write his father a letter for the first time in five years.
Ginny hoped it would be worth it in the long run, too.
~*~
Once upon a time, there was a man named Harry Potter. Then, one day, there simply wasn't. In time, that was okay.