FIC--When You Figure Out You, Come Back to Me, chapter five by almond_joyz
For ithinkiamlost
Title: When You Figure Out You, Come Back to Me, chapter five
Pairings: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione
Rating: PG13
Words: 2020
Summary: Accrued vacation time, an injury, and two people who never really got over each other make for an interesting scenario.
Betas: queenb23more and lunalovepotter
"Come on, Ginny, push!" Harry held her foot in his hands, barely putting any pressure on it.
"I'm tired. I need a nap!" She tried to pull her leg away from him, but still lacked the strength to do so.
"No! You heard what Serena said. Ten times each leg."
The way he said 'Serena' was appallingly irritating.
"Oh, and I suppose you'd do anything dear Serena said, wouldn't you?" She widened her eyes and couldn't help noticing the shocked look on Harry's face. "Don't think I missed the way you were ogling her, Potter."
He dropped her leg onto the mat beneath her. "So what if I did? What's it to you?"
What was it to her exactly? They weren't dating, they weren't anything actually. Why did she care?
She huffed and blew her fringe off her face. "Come on, let's finish this, okay?"
In silence, Harry grabbed her leg again and put pressure on it, her cue to try and push against him. Ginny pursed her lips and concentrated with all her might. Her foot pushed against his hand, and despite the pain that was burning up the inside of her leg, she continued, holding the pressure for the required count of twenty.
"Twenty. Good. Take a deep breath. We only have two more." His voice was without emotion; he was still annoyed with her.
"I'm fine. Let's just get it done."
He pushed again and she began to push back. A tingle started in her thigh, and before she knew it, she kicked out, hitting him in the middle of the chest, sending him to the floor.
"Damn! What'd you do that for?" he asked from the hardwood floor.
Ginny started laughing, not out of meanness at what she'd done to him, but out of joy.
"I didn't mean to. It…it was a spasm. I did it!" At his confused look, she tried to explain. "She said this could happen. Let's see if I can move my foot!"
Ginny eagerly concentrated on moving her foot, biting her bottom lip and furrowing her eyebrows.
Move, she told her foot. Move, damn you!
Nothing happened.
"Ginny…."
"SHH!" Her attention went back to her foot, yet nothing happened. She felt herself sink against the floor in resignation.
"Don't worry about it. It's only the first day." He crawled up and sat beside her on the floor, putting an arm around her shoulder, which she tried desperately not to enjoy. "You did good, Weasley." He gave her a little squeeze.
"I…I was just hoping…you know," she sniffed.
"I know. Come on, let's get you to bed. I think you need a nap."
She nodded in answer and put her right arm around his neck while he stood up awkwardly. Once he was upright, he helped her into the wheelchair. She missed the contact of his warmth through his shirt. The chair moved before she could reach down and move it herself.
"I enlarged the doorway so the chair fits inside." He opened the door to a very masculine bedroom.
"Is this your room, Harry?" She turned around and saw his nod. "I thought I was staying in the spare room."
"No, I said I had a spare room. The spare room is right over there." He nodded to the left and she turned her head to see into the small room lined with full bookshelves.
"Looks like Hermione's library."
"Yeah, well, I read a lot. I've got a lot of time to myself." He pushed her into the room. "Besides, I thought this'd be more comfortable for you.
I have to not only stay in his house but I have to sleep in his bed? He's a sadistic son-of-a-bitch.
The bed was large, and she briefly wondered who he had shared it with in the past. Shaking her head, she tried to get that thought out of her mind. Unfortunately, she couldn't and images of him writhing there with Sylvia flashed through her mind's eye.
"Aargh!"
"What's the matter?" Harry came around in front of her, concern all over his face. "Are you in pain?"
"No. I'm okay. Frustrated is all." Yeah, frustrated in more than one way, and it's all your fault, you handsome bugger!
"All right then. Let's get into bed."
At his words, she shot a look at him and he looked absolutely mortified.
"Er…uh, you need your nap." He put an arm around her waist, which she noticed was very strong, and lifted her out of the chair and onto the bed.
He hovered above her, staring at her. Neither of them said a word; their breathing sped up and she was floored with how strong his jaw looked. And his lips, sweet Merlin, parted slightly before he ran his pink tongue over the top lip before straightening up. He waved his wand and the blankets fluttered down upon her, sending what could only be Harry's scent into her nostrils.
"I'll wake you at three-thirty. You've got therapy at four." He smiled and ruffled her hair in an all-too-brotherly fashion. "Get some rest."
When he turned to leave the room, her eyes settled on his arse, which was always so delectable before but looked even better now. She flushed a bit when he yanked up his jeans right before shutting the door.
As it turned out, she couldn't sleep to save her soul. She was usually a side sleeper and Harry placed her on her back. She wasn't physically able to turn over without getting angry at herself, so she just lay there, staring at the ceiling. Ginny looked to her left and saw his nightstand with a book laid on top. Curiosity got the best of her and she reached over carefully with her re-boned left arm and brought it in front of her.
The Notebook.
It had to be a Muggle book, as wizards had no clue what a notebook was, including Ginny. She opened the book to the middle of it and read a few pages. She kept going longer than she wanted to and had to put it away; it was a romance. Did he put it there for her or had he actually been reading it? Unwilling to continue with the reading, she tossed it next to her on the bed and leaned toward the nightstand again, this time, opening a drawer and removing a folder. She brought it to her lap and opened it; it was full of newspaper articles about him, most of which she remembered.
She leafed through them, shaking her head and wondering why he kept them at all. The most recent ones were about his self-imposed exile from society and the supposed reasons behind it. There was one clipping that made her stomach turn: a photo of Harry and Sylvia snogging against the wall between the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley. Having to watch them snog over and over was perhaps the worst sort of torture she could imagine. With a sigh of disgust, she closed the folder, eased it back into the drawer, and looked around the room.
The walls were off-white with a large window draped with blue plaid curtains that matched the duvet on the bed. His old Hogwarts trunk was at the foot of the bed and several photos of him, Ron, and Hermione lined the top of the bureau. As she looked to the right, she saw something that brought a tear to her eye: a picture of her and Harry from her fifth year at Hogwarts, displayed on a shelf with several books and mementos. She distinctly remembered when Colin had taken that photo.
She and Harry sat in front of the fireplace in the common room, when most of the others had gone to bed; Ron gave them a rather pointed look as Hermione pushed him toward the staircase.
"What would you wish for if there was no Voldemort?" she asked as he cradled her in his arms with his legs wrapped around her from behind.
"More time like this," he whispered into her ear, sending a shiver through her. "Time to just be myself and enjoy the simple things in life. You?"
She sighed and closed her eyes. "I think I'd tour the world, visiting all the places I've only read about. Take a whole year."
"Muggles call it a gap year. Travelling before studying at university," he explained while his hand went up and down her arm.
"Would you come with me?" She cocked her head to the side and caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye.
"I'd love to, but your seventh year would be my gap year."
"Do your seventh year over. Skive off next year. Get all 'Ts' and then you'll have to repeat." They both chuckled and he squeezed her tighter.
"Then I can have more moments like this," he answered and turned her to face him, gently placing her lips upon hers, urging her to open her mouth and stroking her tongue when she obliged. Ginny moaned into the kiss and put her hands in his hair.
The sound of the portrait hole slamming shut made them jump apart; it was Colin Creevey.
"Oh…er, sorry, there." Colin slowly walked toward them. "I have the worst timing, don't I?"
"It's all right," Harry reassured him; Ginny didn't agree but kept her mouth shut.
"Hey…can I take your picture? The lighting is brilliant." He bent over and rummaged through it, finally retrieving his camera. "Put your arms around her, Harry. And Ginny, snuggle in close with your head on his shoulder."
When Colin was finally satisfied with the pose, he lined up the shot in the viewfinder and released the shutter.
"Excellent. I'll get it for you tomorrow."
"Thanks, Colin," Ginny said. "Why were you out so late? Nearly everyone's in bed?" She gave him a pointed look that she thought would make him blush but didn't.
"Nothing like that, Weasley," Colin teased. "I was photographing some nocturnal plants for Professor Sprout. She's writing a book, you know." He gathered up his things and gave them one last smile before ascending the stairs to his own dormitory.
"We should get to bed, too," Harry murmured, still holding her close. "Ron won't go to sleep until I'm back."
Ginny playfully punched him on the opposite shoulder. "You never waited up for him when he was off writhing around like an eel with that cow. Why should he?" The subject of Ron and his snogging hypocrisy was a very sore spot for her.
"Lavender's not my sister."
"Now what if he was off snogging Hermione?"
Harry snorted. "If that ever happened, I think I'd throw confetti into the air in celebration."
She surprised herself to find tears in her eyes; that all happened just two days before Dumbledore was killed. Colin was true to his word and gave each of them a copy of the photo. During the year Harry was gone with Ron and Hermione, she had placed her picture right next to her bed with an Unbreakable charm on it, wanting to make sure it was always safe. It now lay in the bottom of a box marked 'Memories' inside a closet in her flat.
She closed her eyes and allowed all the memories of Harry come back to her: the good and the bad. Memories at Hogwarts. Memories at The Burrow and number twelve Grimmauld Place. Memories of Quidditch. Memories of time alone with him and time spent thinking about him. The last memory was the one in which she told him she didn't want to stop her life for him, that she needed to be herself.
But the time spent away from him, all four years of it, was not the happy time she had anticipated it to be. It was full of mistakes, regrets, and what ifs. The part of her that wanted time to herself was grieving for the time she had with him. Life was so much better when he was in it. It was time to make things right for them both.
Starting now.
Title: When You Figure Out You, Come Back to Me, chapter five
Pairings: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione
Rating: PG13
Words: 2020
Summary: Accrued vacation time, an injury, and two people who never really got over each other make for an interesting scenario.
Betas: queenb23more and lunalovepotter
"Come on, Ginny, push!" Harry held her foot in his hands, barely putting any pressure on it.
"I'm tired. I need a nap!" She tried to pull her leg away from him, but still lacked the strength to do so.
"No! You heard what Serena said. Ten times each leg."
The way he said 'Serena' was appallingly irritating.
"Oh, and I suppose you'd do anything dear Serena said, wouldn't you?" She widened her eyes and couldn't help noticing the shocked look on Harry's face. "Don't think I missed the way you were ogling her, Potter."
He dropped her leg onto the mat beneath her. "So what if I did? What's it to you?"
What was it to her exactly? They weren't dating, they weren't anything actually. Why did she care?
She huffed and blew her fringe off her face. "Come on, let's finish this, okay?"
In silence, Harry grabbed her leg again and put pressure on it, her cue to try and push against him. Ginny pursed her lips and concentrated with all her might. Her foot pushed against his hand, and despite the pain that was burning up the inside of her leg, she continued, holding the pressure for the required count of twenty.
"Twenty. Good. Take a deep breath. We only have two more." His voice was without emotion; he was still annoyed with her.
"I'm fine. Let's just get it done."
He pushed again and she began to push back. A tingle started in her thigh, and before she knew it, she kicked out, hitting him in the middle of the chest, sending him to the floor.
"Damn! What'd you do that for?" he asked from the hardwood floor.
Ginny started laughing, not out of meanness at what she'd done to him, but out of joy.
"I didn't mean to. It…it was a spasm. I did it!" At his confused look, she tried to explain. "She said this could happen. Let's see if I can move my foot!"
Ginny eagerly concentrated on moving her foot, biting her bottom lip and furrowing her eyebrows.
Move, she told her foot. Move, damn you!
Nothing happened.
"Ginny…."
"SHH!" Her attention went back to her foot, yet nothing happened. She felt herself sink against the floor in resignation.
"Don't worry about it. It's only the first day." He crawled up and sat beside her on the floor, putting an arm around her shoulder, which she tried desperately not to enjoy. "You did good, Weasley." He gave her a little squeeze.
"I…I was just hoping…you know," she sniffed.
"I know. Come on, let's get you to bed. I think you need a nap."
She nodded in answer and put her right arm around his neck while he stood up awkwardly. Once he was upright, he helped her into the wheelchair. She missed the contact of his warmth through his shirt. The chair moved before she could reach down and move it herself.
"I enlarged the doorway so the chair fits inside." He opened the door to a very masculine bedroom.
"Is this your room, Harry?" She turned around and saw his nod. "I thought I was staying in the spare room."
"No, I said I had a spare room. The spare room is right over there." He nodded to the left and she turned her head to see into the small room lined with full bookshelves.
"Looks like Hermione's library."
"Yeah, well, I read a lot. I've got a lot of time to myself." He pushed her into the room. "Besides, I thought this'd be more comfortable for you.
I have to not only stay in his house but I have to sleep in his bed? He's a sadistic son-of-a-bitch.
The bed was large, and she briefly wondered who he had shared it with in the past. Shaking her head, she tried to get that thought out of her mind. Unfortunately, she couldn't and images of him writhing there with Sylvia flashed through her mind's eye.
"Aargh!"
"What's the matter?" Harry came around in front of her, concern all over his face. "Are you in pain?"
"No. I'm okay. Frustrated is all." Yeah, frustrated in more than one way, and it's all your fault, you handsome bugger!
"All right then. Let's get into bed."
At his words, she shot a look at him and he looked absolutely mortified.
"Er…uh, you need your nap." He put an arm around her waist, which she noticed was very strong, and lifted her out of the chair and onto the bed.
He hovered above her, staring at her. Neither of them said a word; their breathing sped up and she was floored with how strong his jaw looked. And his lips, sweet Merlin, parted slightly before he ran his pink tongue over the top lip before straightening up. He waved his wand and the blankets fluttered down upon her, sending what could only be Harry's scent into her nostrils.
"I'll wake you at three-thirty. You've got therapy at four." He smiled and ruffled her hair in an all-too-brotherly fashion. "Get some rest."
When he turned to leave the room, her eyes settled on his arse, which was always so delectable before but looked even better now. She flushed a bit when he yanked up his jeans right before shutting the door.
As it turned out, she couldn't sleep to save her soul. She was usually a side sleeper and Harry placed her on her back. She wasn't physically able to turn over without getting angry at herself, so she just lay there, staring at the ceiling. Ginny looked to her left and saw his nightstand with a book laid on top. Curiosity got the best of her and she reached over carefully with her re-boned left arm and brought it in front of her.
The Notebook.
It had to be a Muggle book, as wizards had no clue what a notebook was, including Ginny. She opened the book to the middle of it and read a few pages. She kept going longer than she wanted to and had to put it away; it was a romance. Did he put it there for her or had he actually been reading it? Unwilling to continue with the reading, she tossed it next to her on the bed and leaned toward the nightstand again, this time, opening a drawer and removing a folder. She brought it to her lap and opened it; it was full of newspaper articles about him, most of which she remembered.
She leafed through them, shaking her head and wondering why he kept them at all. The most recent ones were about his self-imposed exile from society and the supposed reasons behind it. There was one clipping that made her stomach turn: a photo of Harry and Sylvia snogging against the wall between the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley. Having to watch them snog over and over was perhaps the worst sort of torture she could imagine. With a sigh of disgust, she closed the folder, eased it back into the drawer, and looked around the room.
The walls were off-white with a large window draped with blue plaid curtains that matched the duvet on the bed. His old Hogwarts trunk was at the foot of the bed and several photos of him, Ron, and Hermione lined the top of the bureau. As she looked to the right, she saw something that brought a tear to her eye: a picture of her and Harry from her fifth year at Hogwarts, displayed on a shelf with several books and mementos. She distinctly remembered when Colin had taken that photo.
She and Harry sat in front of the fireplace in the common room, when most of the others had gone to bed; Ron gave them a rather pointed look as Hermione pushed him toward the staircase.
"What would you wish for if there was no Voldemort?" she asked as he cradled her in his arms with his legs wrapped around her from behind.
"More time like this," he whispered into her ear, sending a shiver through her. "Time to just be myself and enjoy the simple things in life. You?"
She sighed and closed her eyes. "I think I'd tour the world, visiting all the places I've only read about. Take a whole year."
"Muggles call it a gap year. Travelling before studying at university," he explained while his hand went up and down her arm.
"Would you come with me?" She cocked her head to the side and caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye.
"I'd love to, but your seventh year would be my gap year."
"Do your seventh year over. Skive off next year. Get all 'Ts' and then you'll have to repeat." They both chuckled and he squeezed her tighter.
"Then I can have more moments like this," he answered and turned her to face him, gently placing her lips upon hers, urging her to open her mouth and stroking her tongue when she obliged. Ginny moaned into the kiss and put her hands in his hair.
The sound of the portrait hole slamming shut made them jump apart; it was Colin Creevey.
"Oh…er, sorry, there." Colin slowly walked toward them. "I have the worst timing, don't I?"
"It's all right," Harry reassured him; Ginny didn't agree but kept her mouth shut.
"Hey…can I take your picture? The lighting is brilliant." He bent over and rummaged through it, finally retrieving his camera. "Put your arms around her, Harry. And Ginny, snuggle in close with your head on his shoulder."
When Colin was finally satisfied with the pose, he lined up the shot in the viewfinder and released the shutter.
"Excellent. I'll get it for you tomorrow."
"Thanks, Colin," Ginny said. "Why were you out so late? Nearly everyone's in bed?" She gave him a pointed look that she thought would make him blush but didn't.
"Nothing like that, Weasley," Colin teased. "I was photographing some nocturnal plants for Professor Sprout. She's writing a book, you know." He gathered up his things and gave them one last smile before ascending the stairs to his own dormitory.
"We should get to bed, too," Harry murmured, still holding her close. "Ron won't go to sleep until I'm back."
Ginny playfully punched him on the opposite shoulder. "You never waited up for him when he was off writhing around like an eel with that cow. Why should he?" The subject of Ron and his snogging hypocrisy was a very sore spot for her.
"Lavender's not my sister."
"Now what if he was off snogging Hermione?"
Harry snorted. "If that ever happened, I think I'd throw confetti into the air in celebration."
She surprised herself to find tears in her eyes; that all happened just two days before Dumbledore was killed. Colin was true to his word and gave each of them a copy of the photo. During the year Harry was gone with Ron and Hermione, she had placed her picture right next to her bed with an Unbreakable charm on it, wanting to make sure it was always safe. It now lay in the bottom of a box marked 'Memories' inside a closet in her flat.
She closed her eyes and allowed all the memories of Harry come back to her: the good and the bad. Memories at Hogwarts. Memories at The Burrow and number twelve Grimmauld Place. Memories of Quidditch. Memories of time alone with him and time spent thinking about him. The last memory was the one in which she told him she didn't want to stop her life for him, that she needed to be herself.
But the time spent away from him, all four years of it, was not the happy time she had anticipated it to be. It was full of mistakes, regrets, and what ifs. The part of her that wanted time to herself was grieving for the time she had with him. Life was so much better when he was in it. It was time to make things right for them both.
Starting now.