After The Flaw (TDH)
Title: Fifteen Minutes Later: After The Flaw
Author: kanedax
Rating: PG for mild language and situations
Spoilers: Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows
Summary: Only one thing left to be said…
Pairings: Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny
Notes: I finished the book last night. I absolutely loved it. But I’m a big fucking sap and I’ve loved Harry and Ginny since I first read Chamber of Secrets, and I knew one more thing had to be said. I needed this scene. I didn’t get it. So I made it myself, although this is quite possibly my first real attempt at romantic writing, so hopefully it came out okay. All thanks and congratulations to JK Rowling for finishing a fantastic novel, a fantastic series. She owns everyone and everything.
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“Holy…”
Ron’s mouth dropped open as he, Harry, and Hermione approached the White Tomb of Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore. Ron swallowed as the trio stopped ten feet shy of the tomb.
“Wow…” Harry breathed. It was all he could think to say as he saw the giant white marble split in two.
“Really did a number on it, didn’t he?” Ron muttered as Hermione wrapped her second arm around his waist and laid her head against his chest.
“With his old wand, yeah,” Harry said, nervously rolling the Elder Wand between his fingers. “Thank God he was such an arrogant berk. I don’t want to think what would have happened if he had been smarter and actually used the wand he was supposed to use.”
Harry took a deep breath. He turned to the couple.
“Do you want to come see him?” he asked quietly.
“I think it’s something you have to do, Harry,” Hermione replied. “By yourself.”
Harry nodded. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, and walked to the destroyed sarcophagus. As he approached, he saw the outline of the purple-shrouded figure that was once his Headmaster and the closest he ever knew to a grandfather. He thought he would feel fear. Sadness. Shame, even, at seeing Dumbledore in such a state. But as he finally saw the pale, sunken, yet amazingly preserved face, he couldn’t help but smile.
“Hey, Professor,” he said quietly, the stick of elder still twirling in his fingers. “I brought your wand back. Thought you’d want it more than I would.”
Harry reached down and, barely flinching at the coldness of them, lifted Dumbledores hands just long enough to slip the wand back between them and his lifeless chest.
“We won,” he explained. “Voldemort was defeated. He’s not coming back. But,” Harry chuckled despite himself, “I suppose you knew that already.”
Harry reached up to Albus Dumbledore’s face and re-adjusted the glasses that had gone slightly askew either when he was first entombed or when Voldemort invaded this sanctum just weeks ago.
“I feel like I should be saying goodbye,” he said. “But, hey, ‘goodbye’ means never again, right?” Harry adjusted the purple velvet shroud and pulled his wand, his real wand, out of his back pocket.
“So I’ll just say ‘see you later,’ how’s that sound?” he said, smiling. “Till then, go ahead and rest, Professor. You’ve earned it. Reparo.”
Harry’s wand moved slowly up the torn seam of the shroud, and it resealed itself over Dumbledore’s face. Finishing that, he took a step back and placed his hand on the white marble, warming in the morning sun.
Death is the next great adventure, Dumbledore had told him that morning six years ago. And he could believe that now without a heavy heart.
He closed his eyes, and thought of Dumbledore, a snow-white owl perched on his shoulder, standing at King’s Cross with that small, kindly smile on his face. He carried no baggage, nor did those standing around him, boarding the train.
Colin Creevey.
Fred Weasley.
Remus and Dora Lupin.
Ted Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody, Dobby The House Elf. Even Peter Pettigrew, who, in the end, earned his place in line by saving Harry and his friends that night that now felt so long ago.
He saw three faces he knew well looking out of the window, waving on the arriving passengers. James Potter, Lily Evans-Potter, and Sirius Black smiled and yelled something down to the crowd, their hands beckoning to join them.
And Severus Snape, who stood beside Dumbledore, waved back. There was a smile on his face that Harry barely recognized. His hair was still long around his face, but no longer carried the greasy look that it had for so many years. His black robes were gone, replaced by robes of green and silver. There was a golden phoenix pinned to his lapel.
And he was happy.
Harry lowered his hand from the stone, and replaced it with his armed hand, the wand pressed against the wall by his palm. They may be gone from this earth, he thought. But we’ll see them again soon enough.
“It’s over,” he repeated. “You can rest. Reparo.”
As he spoke the words, he felt a wave of warmth flow through the wand. The marble walls pushed themselves upward, resealing themselves around Albus Dumbledore until they looked just as they did the day of the funeral last summer.
We’ll see them again, Harry thought as he turned back to Ron and Hermione. But in the meantime, we’re not alone.
Harry snorted quiet laughter as he walked back to the couple. From the moment that the battle had ended, it was like a floodgate had burst between them. When they were sitting in the Great Hall, the two had been holding hands. By the time they had reached the tomb they had their arms around each other’s waists.
And now…
“Hem, hem,” Harry said in his best Umbridge imitation. Ron and Hermione’s lips broke from each other in surprise, and they looked guiltily at Harry as they realized what they had been doing.
“Sorry,” said Hermione, brushing her wild brown hair forward to cover her red face.
“No problem,” Harry smirked.
“It was,” she strained, “um…”
“A comfort kiss!” Ron blurted out, and Hermione nodded vigorously in agreement.
Harry burst into laughter at the sight of their befuddlement.
“You all right, mate?” said Ron, his ears beet red.
“No, I’m fine,” Harry replied, tears of laughter rolling down his grinning face. “Really.”
“You sure?” Ron said carefully. “Shouldn’t we, like, say a few words?”
Harry laughed again, looking back to the tomb. “Nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak?”
Hermione giggled, covering her mouth with the hand not currently wrapped around Ron’s midsection, and Ron’s mouth broke into a twitch of a smile.
“Dumbledore already had his funeral,” Harry continued, as the three walked back toward the castle, Hermione walking between the two men. “I think he’d consider this more of a victory celebration.”
“Hear, hear!” Hermione trumpeted and, to Harry’s surprise, turned and kissed him quickly on the lips. Ron gave Harry a sharp look, one eyebrow raised. Sister? He mouthed as Hermione put her head on his shoulder.
Harry nodded just as vigorously as Hermione had moments ago, still in minor shock of the moment. Ron laughed out loud and, taking Hermione in his arms, dipped her into another passionate kiss, which she reciprocated in full.
“You know,” Harry said, shaking his head as watched the pair. “If you really want some alone time, I could… I don’t know… go make some excuses for you, or something.”
He waited for a few seconds for a reply. When none came, he continued. “You know, since Mr. and Mrs. Weasley might be wondering where we went off to. I could tell them you needed to… umm…”
Harry’s voice trailed off weakly. So this is what six years of sexual tension looks like when it hits the fan, he thought, sighing.
“Coming up for air any time soon?” he said a little too loudly, which once again caused Hermione to break off in mid-smack.
“No, no, no,” Hermione gasped, adjusting her robes. “We’re fine. We’ll…” she cleared her throat. “Yes, we’ll come back with you, of course!” Her arm flailed behind her as she smacked Ron’s traveling hand. “Won’t we, Ron?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Ron said quickly, although Harry wasn’t sure Ron even knew what he was responding to, as he continued to stare at Hermione’s face. “We’ll do the… the thing...”
“Yes, of course, the… the thing…” Hermione’s brow furrowed in confusion at Ron's random comment. She turned back to Harry, smiling encouragingly, but the grin quickly fell from her face as she looked past him.
“Actually!” she chirped. “I think we will take you up on that offer, Harry!”
“We will?” said Ron, his face buried in Hermione’s neck, as Harry turned around to look toward the front door. “Thank God, I was just being polite…”
Harry’s phoenix core wand fell numbly from his fingers as he saw the small figure silhouetted in the main entrance of Hogwarts. His heart was racing, and his breath stopped as Ginny Weasley slowly walked down the steps. Twenty feet away, Harry thought absently.
“So!” Hermione said loudly behind him, grabbing Ron’s arm. “We’ll just… be going… away…”
“Wha?” Ron mumbled, looking up for the first time and seeing his sister as Hermione dragged him toward Hagrid’s hut.
Harry and Ginny stared at each other from across the cobblestone walkway. She stood on the first step, pushing her height up to match Harry’s. Twenty feet, Harry thought quickly. It feels like nothing, and it feels like everything.
The silence rolled between them for what felt like hours, until Ginny finally said,
“Hi.”
“Hi,” Harry breathed. His tongue felt dry in his mouth. Oh, God, she’s beautiful.
“So,” Ginny said, trying to break the ice, but her smile barely cracked her face. “They finally got together, huh?”
“Yeah,” Harry said, his eyes never leaving hers. “About time, too.”
“Yeah,” Ginny said. She paused, took a deep, shuddering breath. “I saw them leave the table, and you were gone.”
“I know.”
“I thought you three had left again,” she continued, her voice wavering slightly. “Thought you had gone off on another secret mission.”
“Not secret,” Harry said quietly. “No more secrets. We’re not going anywhere. The mission’s over.”
Ginny’s hands clutched in front of her waist. “I never got to say goodbye before you left the wedding…”
“I know,” said Harry, his heart stopping. “I would have sent a Patronus… but…”
Ginny looked down at her hands. Harry dared to take a step forward.
“You must be furious with me,” he said.
Ginny nodded, her eyes still cast downward. “I must be,” she whispered. “I kept telling myself that all year. I must be depressed after you broke up with me. I must be angry after you disappeared from the wedding, me not knowing where you had gone. I must be furious that you didn’t come to help us when the Death Eaters took over the school. I must be, I have to be, because I didn’t know if you were going to ever come back. And it would be easier to get you out of me if I hated you.”
Harry’s heart froze at the words.
“I kept telling myself that,” she continued. “But I kissed you on your birthday. And I saw you, even behind the Polyjuice Potion, at the wedding. And I saw you when I stepped into the Room of Requirement tonight. And I saw you dead…”
“Ginny…”
“And I knew that I could never feel that way about you,” said Ginny, looking up at last, those amazing brown eyes filled with tears. “I could never hate you. I love you too much…”
Harry opened his mouth to reply, but words never came out. His feet were too busy running towards her; his eyes were too busy watching her red hair fly back as she leapt down the steps and his arms were too busy wrapping themselves around her.
Their lips met, and it was more than he had ever imagined during those long nights in the musty tent, more than he ever dreamed would happen again as he sat beneath the stars outside Godric’s Hollow, the moonlight letting him watch Ginny’s dot on the Marauder’s Map. It was a kiss that sent sparks through him, made his heart blaze in his chest, and their time spent in her bedroom last summer seemed like a shadow, a breeze, compared to this moment.
After what felt like no time at all, and an eternity, he pulled his lips away and looked into her eyes.
“I love you,” said Harry, and knew in his heart that it was right, that it was true. That this was the woman he would spend the rest of his life with.
“I love you,” Ginny replied, smiling as tears pouring down her cheeks, and he knew that she felt the same.
“I’ll never leave you again,” he said as he she hugged him, her scarlet hair brushing against the scar of his forehead.
Ginny’s hands ran through his hair, her tears wet against his cheek. “You never did,” she whispered. “You were always with me.”
“And you were with me,” Harry said, “Always.” And he kissed her. Kissed her even as Ron and Hermione, faces blotchy and hair messy, peeked their way from around Hagrid’s hut to make sure that no blood had been spilt. Kissed her even as the Weasleys came to the door, wondering where everyone had gone off to. Mrs. Weasley gasped, grinned from ear to ear, and made to start running toward them, but Mr. Weasley put a hand on her shoulder before she could make her move.
“Wow,” Percy said as Arthur gave Molly an understanding look. “Ginny and Harry, huh?”
“Well,” said George, patting his brother on the shoulder. “You have a lot of catching up to do. Break it up everybody!” he yelled to the suddenly expanding group of Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs behind him. “Nothing to see here, move it along, get your peep shows somewhere else!”
Through all the commotion, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley never separated.
And they never would again.
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