Ficlet: The Clock
Title: The Clock
Author: r_becca
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Rating: light R
Length: 750 words
Summary: "I want this to be just between us," she said.
Notes: Thanks to my beta stmargarets, who always makes my stories better. She also deserves credit for the awesome magical clock prompt which inspired this piece, along with this item from the movies.
"Mum, I told you, Harry and I are just friends."
"Hrmph. You know, in my day a young wizard--"
"Mum! Just -- no. Listen, if anything changes, I will tell you. Until then, can you give it a rest? Please?"
Molly sniffed and turned away. Behind her, she heard Ginny utter a dramatic sigh and stomp out of the kitchen. Really, boys were so much easier to handle, so much more straightforward. She knew her own daughter, and she could tell when secrets were being kept under her own roof. There was no doubt in her mind that Ginny was seeing Harry Potter. But why would she want to keep it a secret?
-----
"I don't see why we have to keep us a secret," Harry said, trailing kisses down Ginny's ribcage. She lay diagonally across his bed, sheets rumpled in careless heaps around her, and the afternoon light made her freckled skin glow.
Ginny dug her fingers into Harry's hair and massaged his scalp, tilting his head so that he had to meet her eyes. "I want this to be just between us," she said. "Everything else is so -- so huge and so public right now. This is not for anyone but you and me, all right?"
Harry nodded, his chin bumping against her ribcage, because he did know. Newspaper reporters hounded him every day, historians Floo'd him all the time asking for interviews, and three unauthorized biographies had been released in the last month alone. Of course Ginny wanted privacy.
Still, when he saw Ron and Hermione walk down Diagon Alley holding hands, or watched Dean and Luna kissing over a gigantic sundae at the newly-reopened Fortescue's, it made the monster in his chest grumble. He wanted to be able to go out in public with Ginny, to dance with her at the endless victory balls, to tell the entire world that he belonged to her and no one else.
"Can't we at least tell your family?" Harry asked. There was a little whine in his voice, but he didn't really care. If begging would convince Ginny to go public, he would do it.
"Ugh, no," Ginny said, with a little shudder that seriously distracted Harry from the discussion at hand. "My mum would be so happy she was right about us, she'd be absolutely unbearable."
Harry didn't see how it would be so bad to have a mum who was happy for you, but before he could say so, Ginny gave him a meaningful look and a little shove. "Now, where were we?" she asked.
"Your wish is my command," Harry murmured, sliding down the bed and pressing kisses to her navel. He might've lost this battle, but there was a consolation prize in it for him.
-----
Molly puttered around the living room, straightening knickknacks and dusting the shelves. Behind her, the clock whirred as one of the hands moved, and she turned to glance at it.
In the past three years or so, she'd grown used to checking the clock many times each hour. The constant worry and fear that hung over the house like a cloud had made her nervous, and the clock was often the only thing that could reassure her. Now that the danger was passed, though she'd loosened her attachment to it somewhat, she still looked to the clock for reassurance several times a day.
No hands pointed to 'Mortal Peril', and Molly breathed a sigh of relief.
Most of the hands pointed to 'Work' which made sense, after all it was the middle of the day on a Wednesday. Charlie's hand pointed to 'Quidditch', which made her smile. Her grown-up boy, still playing with Snitches; his schedule at the Dragon Reserve was flexible enough to allow for such things. Her own hand pointed to 'Home', and Fleur's and little Victoire's both pointed to 'Garden', which was often the case.
Two hands of the clock pointed to someplace unusual, though. Ginny's hand as well as Harry's pointed to the same place. 'Bed.'
"I knew it," Molly whispered, jabbing the clock triumphantly with her feather duster. "You can't keep a secret from me, Ginevra."
-----
Far away in London, the clock began to strike the hour. Ginny cuddled next to Harry and let her eyes slip closed as she listened to it chime. It was such a lovely sound, one she always associated with this house. She'd lived with a magical clock all her life, after all, but the one at the Burrow never made a sound.
Suddenly she sat bolt upright, her eyes wide open and the sheets pooled around her hips.
"Whassamatter?" Harry grumbled.
"That bleeding clock! She knows!"
Author: r_becca
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Rating: light R
Length: 750 words
Summary: "I want this to be just between us," she said.
Notes: Thanks to my beta stmargarets, who always makes my stories better. She also deserves credit for the awesome magical clock prompt which inspired this piece, along with this item from the movies.
"Mum, I told you, Harry and I are just friends."
"Hrmph. You know, in my day a young wizard--"
"Mum! Just -- no. Listen, if anything changes, I will tell you. Until then, can you give it a rest? Please?"
Molly sniffed and turned away. Behind her, she heard Ginny utter a dramatic sigh and stomp out of the kitchen. Really, boys were so much easier to handle, so much more straightforward. She knew her own daughter, and she could tell when secrets were being kept under her own roof. There was no doubt in her mind that Ginny was seeing Harry Potter. But why would she want to keep it a secret?
-----
"I don't see why we have to keep us a secret," Harry said, trailing kisses down Ginny's ribcage. She lay diagonally across his bed, sheets rumpled in careless heaps around her, and the afternoon light made her freckled skin glow.
Ginny dug her fingers into Harry's hair and massaged his scalp, tilting his head so that he had to meet her eyes. "I want this to be just between us," she said. "Everything else is so -- so huge and so public right now. This is not for anyone but you and me, all right?"
Harry nodded, his chin bumping against her ribcage, because he did know. Newspaper reporters hounded him every day, historians Floo'd him all the time asking for interviews, and three unauthorized biographies had been released in the last month alone. Of course Ginny wanted privacy.
Still, when he saw Ron and Hermione walk down Diagon Alley holding hands, or watched Dean and Luna kissing over a gigantic sundae at the newly-reopened Fortescue's, it made the monster in his chest grumble. He wanted to be able to go out in public with Ginny, to dance with her at the endless victory balls, to tell the entire world that he belonged to her and no one else.
"Can't we at least tell your family?" Harry asked. There was a little whine in his voice, but he didn't really care. If begging would convince Ginny to go public, he would do it.
"Ugh, no," Ginny said, with a little shudder that seriously distracted Harry from the discussion at hand. "My mum would be so happy she was right about us, she'd be absolutely unbearable."
Harry didn't see how it would be so bad to have a mum who was happy for you, but before he could say so, Ginny gave him a meaningful look and a little shove. "Now, where were we?" she asked.
"Your wish is my command," Harry murmured, sliding down the bed and pressing kisses to her navel. He might've lost this battle, but there was a consolation prize in it for him.
-----
Molly puttered around the living room, straightening knickknacks and dusting the shelves. Behind her, the clock whirred as one of the hands moved, and she turned to glance at it.
In the past three years or so, she'd grown used to checking the clock many times each hour. The constant worry and fear that hung over the house like a cloud had made her nervous, and the clock was often the only thing that could reassure her. Now that the danger was passed, though she'd loosened her attachment to it somewhat, she still looked to the clock for reassurance several times a day.
No hands pointed to 'Mortal Peril', and Molly breathed a sigh of relief.
Most of the hands pointed to 'Work' which made sense, after all it was the middle of the day on a Wednesday. Charlie's hand pointed to 'Quidditch', which made her smile. Her grown-up boy, still playing with Snitches; his schedule at the Dragon Reserve was flexible enough to allow for such things. Her own hand pointed to 'Home', and Fleur's and little Victoire's both pointed to 'Garden', which was often the case.
Two hands of the clock pointed to someplace unusual, though. Ginny's hand as well as Harry's pointed to the same place. 'Bed.'
"I knew it," Molly whispered, jabbing the clock triumphantly with her feather duster. "You can't keep a secret from me, Ginevra."
-----
Far away in London, the clock began to strike the hour. Ginny cuddled next to Harry and let her eyes slip closed as she listened to it chime. It was such a lovely sound, one she always associated with this house. She'd lived with a magical clock all her life, after all, but the one at the Burrow never made a sound.
Suddenly she sat bolt upright, her eyes wide open and the sheets pooled around her hips.
"Whassamatter?" Harry grumbled.
"That bleeding clock! She knows!"