Another One-Shot...
Yet another, still written before HBP.
Through All Seasons
~ Bury the Hatchet ~
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in this ficlet. They all belong to JKR, especially considering that JKR does not post her writings online. I do own a cockatiel, 3 society finches, and two very evil luvbirds. They would be good pets for Snape. Siriusly. (Wow. I’m such a nerd.)
Author’s Note: Once again, candy canes for my looverly betas Christelle and Kellyn. Go look at their stories at Christelle Capucine or DreamsofSirius !!!!!!! This is the second installment in this series, though, I wrote it first. Anyway. Thanks to all my reviewers! I’m sorry this took so long, school has been crazy and I have roughly 17 hrs of guard a week. I have one other story for this, that is written, but it’s only a page and a half typed, so I’ll probably revise that. My sister thinks I should do a companion piece to Intimate Chaos, another situation from Harry’s POV, but I can’t write from a guy’s view. I have a roommate idea floating around in my head, whaddaya think? Sorry this is so long…
The moon was reflected on the dark rippling lake; a pool of liquid silver on soft black velvet. The stars twinkled frostily as the wind waltzed on the snow drifts. December night chill crept slowly in through the open window…
“Ginny! Close the bloody window! It’s December!”
Sixteen-year-old Ginny Weasley rolled her eyes, but followed her brother’s not-so-kind request.
“It’s not that cold, Ron.”
“There’s snow on the ground. You’re the only one here who doesn’t have a sense of temperature.”
“Ron, there’s no such thing as sense of temp-“
“Enough, you two,” Harry cut in, but he was smiling. *Its nice to see him smile again*. Harry had been pale and drawn since she’d first seen him in September. With Voldemort still steadily gaining power, the wizarding world was on edge. Dumbledore was still having Harry take Occlumency lesson’s from Snape, and, as far as Ginny knew, his nightmares had stopped. And this weekend they were all going back to the Burrow for a, hopefully, stress-free Christmas holiday.
The portrait hole opened and, with a muffled squeak, a pile of books collapsed to reveal their friend, Hermione.
“You’re not bringing all those home on holiday, are you?” Ron looked incredulous.
“Of course I am. You should, as well; most of them are for our homework...” Hermione stacked some of the books on the end table beside her, and then reached for the few left on the floor.
“It’s Christmas holiday!”
“There really isn’t that much, Ron! If you’d just put your mind to it for a couple of hours…” Ginny grinned and turned away. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Harry doing the same.
“Chess?” she asked brightly, pointing to Ron’s forgotten board.
It was the day before Christmas Eve and the Weasley household was packed. With eight Weasleys, plus Harry, Hermione, Pig, Hedwig, Errol, and Crookshanks, there was hardly any room to breathe. It was promising to be one of the best Christmases yet, but Ginny knew that there was a piece missing. Percy wasn’t her favorite brother, but he would always stick up for her when the others teased her. Percy was still refusing to speak to the family because of their involvement with the Order. Ginny felt her face flush with anger just thinking about his last “letter”. It was more of a memo, saying he wouldn’t be coming home soon. Ginny’s only consolation was that the great prat would get the longest tongue-lashing in history when he showed his face.
“Fred! George!” Her mother’s enraged voice jerked Ginny out of her thoughts. She ducked into the hallway towards the kitchen, where her mother had been washing the supper dishes. She stopped short, fortunately, before stepping onto floor that was covered in shards of porcelain and glass.
“Mum! What happened?” But her shell-shocked mother had found the twins in the crowd and was about to explode.
“What was that? You two swore up and down that you’d keep the shop product away for Christmas!”
“Well, we must have missed that one mum,” Fred replied quietly.
“It was experimental. Weasley’s Wet-start Wonder Rockets. Now we know to work out a few-“
“If it was experimental, you should never have taken it out of the bloody shop!” Bill’s angry rebuke cut through George’s excuse.
Hermione crouched down and began muttering Reparo, stacking up the repaired crockery. Ginny felt the usual pang of being the only one left, unable to do magic outside of school.
“You could have killed her! What were you two thinking?” Her father’s voice broke into the argument and the voice swelled. Ginny roughly pushed her way through the gathered crowd at the doorway, and ran upstairs. She couldn’t stand any more fighting…
Harry quietly followed Ginny upstairs and knocked gently on her bedroom door.
“Ginny? Are you okay?” Harry frowned when no one answered. A chill wind swept around him and he looked to see that the window at the end of the hall was open. He walked over to close it when a small voice came from outside.
“Don’t close it, please,” Harry stuck his head out the window and looked around. Because of one of the burrows many additions, outside the window was a large ledge. Ginny was curled up on a blanket, staring up at the sky.
“Can I, er…sit down?” He asked awkwardly. She looked at him for a moment and nodded slowly. “Are you okay?”
Ginny sighed and leaned back against the wall. “I suppose I should be used to it by now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Every year, they always fight. Whether it’s as simple as who has to stay with who, or something like this.” Ginny waved her hand vaguely below them. “I wish they’d stop for Christmas. I’m tired of fighting.”
Harry stared at her, wondering if she had meant the double meaning in her words. But Ginny’s gaze was lost, again, in the stars. The two sat in companionable silence for a little while, until snowflakes began drifting down and Ginny stood up stiffly. Harry followed and helped her fold up the blanket. She looked at him again, then smiled.
“Thanks, Harry. Goodnight.” She ducked inside the window.
Christmas Eve dawned cold and white, and the Weasley household was full of noise and savory smells. Last night’s argument was not mentioned; neither was Harry and Ginny’s excursion on the ledge. The Harry was more than a little confused by Ginny’s silence; he decided to wait for her to bring it up, and let himself get caught in the holiday spirit. He watched Hermione and Ron play chess, and then went and dug up his copy of “Flying with the Cannons”.
It was around five-o’clock and night was quickly setting in when there was a knock on the door. Mrs. Weasley bustled down the hall and, after a moment, her shriek rang through the house. With a start, Harry was up, wand in hand, and running to the front of the Burrow. He arrived to the sight of a purpling, bespectacled, red-haired face struggling to get out of his mother’s grasp. When Mrs. Weasley finally let go, Percy straightened, glasses crooked and ears pink, to look nervously at his gathered family.
“I hope there’s enough room...” he mumbled, very interested in the tiling.
“Of course there is!” Mrs. Weasley began heading to the kitchen and muttering about extra potatoes.
“Welcome home.” Mr. Weasley shook Percy’s hand stiffly.
“You think that you can just walk back in?” An icy voice cut through the crowd. Everyone turned to look at Ginny, standing at the end of the hallway, her arms crossed defensively over her chest, and glaring at her older brother.
“You believe us now? Have you come to us for protection? Finally seen the bodies beneath the Dark Mark?” She spat, her face hardening.
“Ginny…I…”
“But,” she spoke louder, drowning out her brother’s feeble excuses. “I wonder why you didn’t believe us before. Why you thought we made it all up? Why, after all Harry’s done, you would think that he made it up? That it was just a ploy to get attention. Even after your siblings risked their lives you wouldn’t believe us! Why was that? Oh, yes, because of power! Because, by betraying your family, you could get on Fudge’s good side, and possibly get a job in the Ministry, which could be destroyed at any day! So don’t just expect to walk in and be welcomed home with open arms, you horrible prat!” With that final, resounding statement, Ginny stormed upstairs for the second day in a row.
Today, Harry didn’t even bother to knock on Ginny’s bedroom door. He went
Straight down the hall and climbed onto the ledge. Ginny was huddled in a corner, scowling as tears ran down her cheeks.
“I hate him.” Her whisper dripped deadly poisons of betrayal, and constrained worry.
“No, you don’t,” Harry replied after a moment. “You missed him. You were worried about him. He left because he didn’t want to believe Voldemort was back. Percy was alive during his first reign. We’ve only heard the stories. Percy lived them.” Ginny was silent, but her tears had slowed.
“Five-year-olds can be very perceptive.” Harry smiled hopefully at Ginny. The corners of her mouth twitched, but Ginny seemed determined to stay in her bad mood. Harry thought, momentarily, of tickling her, but he quickly banished away that idea.
“It’s Christmas, Gin. Time to forgive and forget. People make mistakes. It’s just that Percy’s used up about half of his allotted life-time amount.”
“I can’t forgive him just like that!”
“Sure you can, he’s you brother.”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “And your point is?”
“He’s the ‘missing piece’. No one’s said anything but you can feel it. Even with all these people here, something was missing…”
“You’re not going to shut up until I go down and apologize, are you?” Ginny was torn between amusement and annoyance. And annoyance was winning.
“I never said you had to apologize,” Harry grinned at her. “But you do have to go down and enjoy Christmas.”
“This is the first Christmas in years that we’ve all been at home. Usually Bill and Charlie can’t make it.”
“All the more reason to go back downstairs.”
“Maybe I should forgive him, if only in the spirit of Christmas.”
Harry laughed. “You know you should…” Ginny looked at him hesitantly. Then her resolve hardened.
Harry watched her curiously. She leaned in and her lips gently met his. Harry’s mind went blank. A moment later, she had climbed into the hallway. Her voice floated over her shoulder.
“Merry Christmas, Harry.”
~*Fin*~
I’m really sorry this took so long! Again many thanks to Christelle and Kellyn! Reviews are appreciated. Flames will be used for hot cocoa.
~Embyr
QUOTE TIME:
"Calm," he said. "Breathe, Bell, breathe."
Okay, that was when I got really wigged out. I mean, he’s not supposed to know my private mantra! Especially not the mantra I use when he’s affecting me too much! No one’s supposed to know that mantra, not even Angelina and Alicia. I suppose it’s not a very original private mantra, but still... ~Remind Me to Breathe
Can anyone tell I LOVE this story?
Through All Seasons
~ Bury the Hatchet ~
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in this ficlet. They all belong to JKR, especially considering that JKR does not post her writings online. I do own a cockatiel, 3 society finches, and two very evil luvbirds. They would be good pets for Snape. Siriusly. (Wow. I’m such a nerd.)
Author’s Note: Once again, candy canes for my looverly betas Christelle and Kellyn. Go look at their stories at Christelle Capucine or DreamsofSirius !!!!!!! This is the second installment in this series, though, I wrote it first. Anyway. Thanks to all my reviewers! I’m sorry this took so long, school has been crazy and I have roughly 17 hrs of guard a week. I have one other story for this, that is written, but it’s only a page and a half typed, so I’ll probably revise that. My sister thinks I should do a companion piece to Intimate Chaos, another situation from Harry’s POV, but I can’t write from a guy’s view. I have a roommate idea floating around in my head, whaddaya think? Sorry this is so long…
The moon was reflected on the dark rippling lake; a pool of liquid silver on soft black velvet. The stars twinkled frostily as the wind waltzed on the snow drifts. December night chill crept slowly in through the open window…
“Ginny! Close the bloody window! It’s December!”
Sixteen-year-old Ginny Weasley rolled her eyes, but followed her brother’s not-so-kind request.
“It’s not that cold, Ron.”
“There’s snow on the ground. You’re the only one here who doesn’t have a sense of temperature.”
“Ron, there’s no such thing as sense of temp-“
“Enough, you two,” Harry cut in, but he was smiling. *Its nice to see him smile again*. Harry had been pale and drawn since she’d first seen him in September. With Voldemort still steadily gaining power, the wizarding world was on edge. Dumbledore was still having Harry take Occlumency lesson’s from Snape, and, as far as Ginny knew, his nightmares had stopped. And this weekend they were all going back to the Burrow for a, hopefully, stress-free Christmas holiday.
The portrait hole opened and, with a muffled squeak, a pile of books collapsed to reveal their friend, Hermione.
“You’re not bringing all those home on holiday, are you?” Ron looked incredulous.
“Of course I am. You should, as well; most of them are for our homework...” Hermione stacked some of the books on the end table beside her, and then reached for the few left on the floor.
“It’s Christmas holiday!”
“There really isn’t that much, Ron! If you’d just put your mind to it for a couple of hours…” Ginny grinned and turned away. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Harry doing the same.
“Chess?” she asked brightly, pointing to Ron’s forgotten board.
It was the day before Christmas Eve and the Weasley household was packed. With eight Weasleys, plus Harry, Hermione, Pig, Hedwig, Errol, and Crookshanks, there was hardly any room to breathe. It was promising to be one of the best Christmases yet, but Ginny knew that there was a piece missing. Percy wasn’t her favorite brother, but he would always stick up for her when the others teased her. Percy was still refusing to speak to the family because of their involvement with the Order. Ginny felt her face flush with anger just thinking about his last “letter”. It was more of a memo, saying he wouldn’t be coming home soon. Ginny’s only consolation was that the great prat would get the longest tongue-lashing in history when he showed his face.
“Fred! George!” Her mother’s enraged voice jerked Ginny out of her thoughts. She ducked into the hallway towards the kitchen, where her mother had been washing the supper dishes. She stopped short, fortunately, before stepping onto floor that was covered in shards of porcelain and glass.
“Mum! What happened?” But her shell-shocked mother had found the twins in the crowd and was about to explode.
“What was that? You two swore up and down that you’d keep the shop product away for Christmas!”
“Well, we must have missed that one mum,” Fred replied quietly.
“It was experimental. Weasley’s Wet-start Wonder Rockets. Now we know to work out a few-“
“If it was experimental, you should never have taken it out of the bloody shop!” Bill’s angry rebuke cut through George’s excuse.
Hermione crouched down and began muttering Reparo, stacking up the repaired crockery. Ginny felt the usual pang of being the only one left, unable to do magic outside of school.
“You could have killed her! What were you two thinking?” Her father’s voice broke into the argument and the voice swelled. Ginny roughly pushed her way through the gathered crowd at the doorway, and ran upstairs. She couldn’t stand any more fighting…
Harry quietly followed Ginny upstairs and knocked gently on her bedroom door.
“Ginny? Are you okay?” Harry frowned when no one answered. A chill wind swept around him and he looked to see that the window at the end of the hall was open. He walked over to close it when a small voice came from outside.
“Don’t close it, please,” Harry stuck his head out the window and looked around. Because of one of the burrows many additions, outside the window was a large ledge. Ginny was curled up on a blanket, staring up at the sky.
“Can I, er…sit down?” He asked awkwardly. She looked at him for a moment and nodded slowly. “Are you okay?”
Ginny sighed and leaned back against the wall. “I suppose I should be used to it by now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Every year, they always fight. Whether it’s as simple as who has to stay with who, or something like this.” Ginny waved her hand vaguely below them. “I wish they’d stop for Christmas. I’m tired of fighting.”
Harry stared at her, wondering if she had meant the double meaning in her words. But Ginny’s gaze was lost, again, in the stars. The two sat in companionable silence for a little while, until snowflakes began drifting down and Ginny stood up stiffly. Harry followed and helped her fold up the blanket. She looked at him again, then smiled.
“Thanks, Harry. Goodnight.” She ducked inside the window.
Christmas Eve dawned cold and white, and the Weasley household was full of noise and savory smells. Last night’s argument was not mentioned; neither was Harry and Ginny’s excursion on the ledge. The Harry was more than a little confused by Ginny’s silence; he decided to wait for her to bring it up, and let himself get caught in the holiday spirit. He watched Hermione and Ron play chess, and then went and dug up his copy of “Flying with the Cannons”.
It was around five-o’clock and night was quickly setting in when there was a knock on the door. Mrs. Weasley bustled down the hall and, after a moment, her shriek rang through the house. With a start, Harry was up, wand in hand, and running to the front of the Burrow. He arrived to the sight of a purpling, bespectacled, red-haired face struggling to get out of his mother’s grasp. When Mrs. Weasley finally let go, Percy straightened, glasses crooked and ears pink, to look nervously at his gathered family.
“I hope there’s enough room...” he mumbled, very interested in the tiling.
“Of course there is!” Mrs. Weasley began heading to the kitchen and muttering about extra potatoes.
“Welcome home.” Mr. Weasley shook Percy’s hand stiffly.
“You think that you can just walk back in?” An icy voice cut through the crowd. Everyone turned to look at Ginny, standing at the end of the hallway, her arms crossed defensively over her chest, and glaring at her older brother.
“You believe us now? Have you come to us for protection? Finally seen the bodies beneath the Dark Mark?” She spat, her face hardening.
“Ginny…I…”
“But,” she spoke louder, drowning out her brother’s feeble excuses. “I wonder why you didn’t believe us before. Why you thought we made it all up? Why, after all Harry’s done, you would think that he made it up? That it was just a ploy to get attention. Even after your siblings risked their lives you wouldn’t believe us! Why was that? Oh, yes, because of power! Because, by betraying your family, you could get on Fudge’s good side, and possibly get a job in the Ministry, which could be destroyed at any day! So don’t just expect to walk in and be welcomed home with open arms, you horrible prat!” With that final, resounding statement, Ginny stormed upstairs for the second day in a row.
Today, Harry didn’t even bother to knock on Ginny’s bedroom door. He went
Straight down the hall and climbed onto the ledge. Ginny was huddled in a corner, scowling as tears ran down her cheeks.
“I hate him.” Her whisper dripped deadly poisons of betrayal, and constrained worry.
“No, you don’t,” Harry replied after a moment. “You missed him. You were worried about him. He left because he didn’t want to believe Voldemort was back. Percy was alive during his first reign. We’ve only heard the stories. Percy lived them.” Ginny was silent, but her tears had slowed.
“Five-year-olds can be very perceptive.” Harry smiled hopefully at Ginny. The corners of her mouth twitched, but Ginny seemed determined to stay in her bad mood. Harry thought, momentarily, of tickling her, but he quickly banished away that idea.
“It’s Christmas, Gin. Time to forgive and forget. People make mistakes. It’s just that Percy’s used up about half of his allotted life-time amount.”
“I can’t forgive him just like that!”
“Sure you can, he’s you brother.”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “And your point is?”
“He’s the ‘missing piece’. No one’s said anything but you can feel it. Even with all these people here, something was missing…”
“You’re not going to shut up until I go down and apologize, are you?” Ginny was torn between amusement and annoyance. And annoyance was winning.
“I never said you had to apologize,” Harry grinned at her. “But you do have to go down and enjoy Christmas.”
“This is the first Christmas in years that we’ve all been at home. Usually Bill and Charlie can’t make it.”
“All the more reason to go back downstairs.”
“Maybe I should forgive him, if only in the spirit of Christmas.”
Harry laughed. “You know you should…” Ginny looked at him hesitantly. Then her resolve hardened.
Harry watched her curiously. She leaned in and her lips gently met his. Harry’s mind went blank. A moment later, she had climbed into the hallway. Her voice floated over her shoulder.
“Merry Christmas, Harry.”
~*Fin*~
I’m really sorry this took so long! Again many thanks to Christelle and Kellyn! Reviews are appreciated. Flames will be used for hot cocoa.
~Embyr
QUOTE TIME:
"Calm," he said. "Breathe, Bell, breathe."
Okay, that was when I got really wigged out. I mean, he’s not supposed to know my private mantra! Especially not the mantra I use when he’s affecting me too much! No one’s supposed to know that mantra, not even Angelina and Alicia. I suppose it’s not a very original private mantra, but still... ~Remind Me to Breathe
Can anyone tell I LOVE this story?