ginnystrophyhusband

[ginnystrophyhusband]

@ginnystrophyhusband Microfics August 2025 Prompts Day 15: Insecure

It was subtle, which was probably why Ginny hadn't noticed before.

Also the fact that they just didn't use cars that often.

But now that she had noticed the time the Ministry sent special cars for them for the memorial, it was impossible not to see: that when Harry entered a car, his shoulders stiffened and he had to take a long breath and steel himself for it.

Unsure if she should approach him directly about this, she went to one of the people who knew him best.

"Oh, yes," Hermione said. "He's weird about cars. I never asked why, though - I was too nervous to. You might have better luck."

Ginny smirked. "I have different methods."

"Ugh. I really don't need to know. Anyway, Ron and I figured that it's easier for him if he's distracted, so we try to do that when we have to use cars - which, thankfully, is pretty rare."

Ginny recalled how Ron had chosen the exact moment to sling his arm around Harry's shoulders and make a crude joke; how Hermione had decided the time was ripe to tell them all the statistics of coming across double-deckers on the road, and felt a surge of gratitude that Harry had them.

She didn't have people who would do that for her. Sure, she had plenty of friends, and good ones too, but those who would work around her sore spots without asking after a discussion of their own? Especially when like Harry you had a never-ending supply of them through no fault of your own? Rare.

Now there was no choice but to go to Harry himself. She wasn't scared of him—ever—but she did use an unusual amount of tact in the asking, even though unlike Ron she typically already had a measure of it.

Harry actually only seemed embarrassed. "Oh. You noticed?"

"I did," she said, leaving out the fact that his best friends had long since known.

"It's nothing," he hedged, and she realized he was actually insecure about this.

What the hell?

"Hey, it can't be more embarrassing than that time you cut yourself on one of Teddy's dolls," she teased to relax him.

It worked. "Those things are impossible to handle," he grumbled.

"So are you. You should get along great!"

He fixed her with an amused, fond look. "I think you handle me pretty well."

She pecked him on the cheek. "I don't handle you—that's stupid—but I'm still not going to let you get away with that deflection."

He sighed. "No, that would've actually been good luck." He continued without prompting other than a squeeze of his hand: "It's stupid, but when I was a kid, the Dursleys told me my parents had died in a car crash."

Realization crashed over her. Sickened, she gasped. "Oh."

He seemed to take it for mocking. "I know, I know, the way they actually died is way worse and scarier. But in my defense, I have nightmares about that too."

So he had dreams about his parents in a fictional car accident. Her heart clenched.

"I wasn't going to say that at all," she said instead of doing what she actually wanted to do and cry and throw her arms around him. "Don't put words in my mouth, Potter."

She let herself do the latter now. "It makes sense. Absolutely."

Ginny thought about little Harry, knowing nothing about his parents except for this, living where cars would have been more common too—

Wait.

"The Dursleys used to take you in cars, right?" She asked, outraged.

"They didn't know, Gin," he caught on to her thought-process immediately.

"Would they have cared if they had?"

His silence was all the answer she needed. She hugged him even tighter.

"Kind of need to breathe?"

Ginny released him, but didn't step back. "I love you. Ron and Hermione love you. My whole family loves you. Hell, the entire wizarding world does too. You know that, right?"

Now he looked less insecure, just embarrassed. He dipped his head in a nod. "Yeah. But it really isn't that bad - it's just kind of hard getting in and when there's abrupt stops and stuff. I'm fine with cars, really."

He even managed to sound convincing.

"I don't care. We're never going anywhere by car again."

"Whatever you say, dear."

"Don't dear me, Harry James Potter—"

[ginnystrophyhusband]

Fighting

@ginnystrophyhusband microfics, prompt from yesterday (Aug 11): Fighting.

The Butterbeer is bubbly and sweet, and doing its very best at evoking the innocent nostalgia Harry had craved while falling just short of achieving it. 

He and Ginny are huddled together at a table in the back corner of the Three Broomsticks. It had seemed like a good idea, when he’d suggested it - coming here. They could finally go on a normal Three Broomsticks date like every other Hogwarts couple in existence, and share a cheeky butterbeer and a snog at a corner booth like they would’ve done last year if everything hadn’t gone to shit. 

In retrospect, perhaps making him feel normal again was a heavy lift for a butterbeer. 

“How’s Selwyn’s case coming?” Ginny asks, in a sporting attempt to combat the pall that seems to permeate the pub. 

He tells her – shit – and they spend a few minutes abusing the crap system that had allowed Selwyn to become so influential in the first place. She updates him on Quidditch and classes and the new ridiculous meetings Slughorn has organized to encourage them to talk about their feelings or some other rubbish that Ginny clearly finds distasteful. 

“--nobody says a word, unless it’s bloody Zacharias Smith trying to act as though he was integral to the war effort, the twat.”

“I supposed they’ve got to do something, haven’t they?”

Ginny raises an eyebrow. “Oh, and I suppose you’d be spilling your guts to Slughorn?”

“No need,” Harry says, lifting his drink again. “I already have a standing appointment with Ron on Tuesdays.”

She doesn’t laugh like he expects her to. She offers a tight smile, a beat too late. “What’re Ron and Hermione up to, then? I can’t believe they haven’t joined us.”

In truth, Harry does not want to imagine what his two friends might be doing in some hidden corner of Hogsmeade, a courtesy that he sincerely hopes Ron extends to him and Ginny as well. “Dunno. Enjoying themselves, I’m sure.”

“I’d’ve thought you’d want to, you know. Be together. The three of you haven’t been all together in months, have you?”

Harry furrows his eyebrows, perplexed by her question. “Well, I see Ron nearly every day…”

“Yes, but not Hermione.”

“Well, no.” 

He’s not quite sure what she’s getting at, and fights the sinking sensation and the thought perhaps she hasn’t been looking forward to this time alone quite as much as he had, that she’d rather have hung round with everyone together. 

“I just… I know the three of you have a… a bond, or whatever,” Ginny says, gesturing vaguely as though to illustrate it, and Harry finds that she won’t quite meet his eye. “They can join us, if you like. That’s all I’m saying.”

Harry opens his mouth to respond but realizes he hasn’t a clue what to say to that. “What? I mean yeah, I suppose…”

Ginny has started to peel the label off of her bottle of butterbeer. “Hermione misses you both. Loads. I can tell.”

“I’m sure she misses Ron a bit more.” 

She looks frustrated by his attempt at a joke, and Harry’s concern heightens. She presses again. “You know what I mean.”

“I… really don’t, actually,” he says. 

Ginny looks up from her tattered label and has something like resolve in her eyes. “If you wanted to see them, so you can, I dunno, talk or whatever, I get it–”

“What the hell would I need to talk to Ron for?” he laughs, though it sounds sharp even to his own ears. 

“I don’t know. Whatever you talk about at your standing appointment on Tuesdays–”

“Hang on,” Harry says, stung. “You know I was joking.”

“Do I?”

Harry stares at her, a leaden, sick sort of feeling in his stomach. Her mouth is pressed together in a defiant line, and her normally warm eyes are wary, defensive. The thought occurs to him far too late. 

“You’re angry with me.”

He can see the way she tries to wipe it from her expression, but the anger clings stubbornly to the furrow in her brow, the aversion of her eyes. “No. It’s– look, we haven’t seen each other in months, let’s–”

Harry wants to be sick. This isn’t how today was meant to go. God, he’d spent every day thinking of her, missing her, trying to pretend to be the version of himself that she brought out - lighter and funnier and more carefree. But he’s not any of that shit, not without her. He’s never really considered the prospect of losing her before, but the thought hits him bodily now. 

What’s the point of any of this if he doesn’t have her? 

“Gin,” he pleads. “What’s going on? Please just tell me, so I can fix it.”

Ginny flinches irritably, and his stomach sinks further. “Tell you? That’s rich.”

“Wh–”

“How about you tell me for a change?” Ginny snaps, setting down her butterbeer rather forcefully. “Anything about what happened with you last year, how you’re coping with it, I dunno, anything.”

He’s never been on the receiving end of her ire before, and it cuts deeper than he cares to admit. He lowers his drink to the table and says, “Alright.”

But the words don’t come. He stares at her, eyes burning in a way that stings, and he realizes all at once how it all must seem to her: that she was shut out, that he reserved his private thoughts exclusively for Ron and Hermione, his more trusted confidants. But he hadn’t meant to. He hadn’t wanted that - or at least, not for the reasons she must think. 

Frustration bubbles at his inability to communicate what he thought had been utterly obvious. But perhaps it hasn’t been fair of him. They understand each other so well – she so often can read him better than he can read himself – that he’s taken it for granted that she knows what she means to him without spelling it out. 

He can try to spell it out. He can try. 

So, he does. “Look, there were some things I couldn’t tell you before because it was dangerous, and–”

“Harry, I know that–”

“Please,” he begs, reaching out and gripping her hand. “Let me say it.”

She looks for a moment like she might argue – that little stubborn crease appears between her eyebrows – but she relents. 

He takes a breath, realizing as he says it how unfair he’s been to her. “But the truth is, even if it wasn’t dangerous, even if Dumbledore had said I could… I didn’t want to tell you before.”

He regrets the way the hurt sweeps across her face so immediately, so clearly, and he rushes to explain. “My life hasn’t been really… well… you know. The Dursleys. And then… Voldemort, and everything that came with it…”

He finds he cannot look at her directly, as though she’s the sun, and stares after an excitable crowd of third years passing by their table instead. “You were the best thing that had ever happened to me,” he says baldly, truthfully. “It felt like… like I got this taste of what my life might’ve been without Voldemort. Like I could be normal. Happy. With you.”

He looks up and she’s still staring at him intently, though her eyes seem a bit softer. “I didn’t want to tell you about any of it, because when I was with you I got to pretend there wasn’t anything to tell. And that’s bollocks.”

Ginny blinks.

“I hate it if… if I made you feel like I didn’t trust you. I did. I do. You just… made me so happy. Make me so happy. I didn’t want to… to spoil it. But you… you’ve got to know that I don’t give a fuck if we see Ron and Hermione today, because all I’ve been thinking about for the last two months is getting to see you.”

She lets out a breathy laugh, her eyes blazing in the way he loves so much. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She grips his hand and stares down at the table. Harry can’t quite read her expression, but he desperately wants to know whether he’s botched it all with this admission. Whether he’s hurt her.

“You make me so happy,” Ginny says, finally looking up and squeezing his hand. “But I want to be with you, all of you.” 

“I want to be with–”

“I won’t be a holiday from your real life anymore, alright?” she says firmly, her eyes flashing. “I want to know all of it. Even the bad stuff.”

His heart stutters, and warms. “I don’t want you to be a holiday.”

“Well, good,” Ginny sniffs. “Because I’m ginger, I burn to a crisp in the sun.”

He chuckles and pulls her toward him around the booth, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. She wraps an arm around his middle, and it’s tempting, so tempting to breathe in the comforting scent of her; to crack a joke and lift her chin so that he might steal a kiss from her soft lips like he’s been aching to do for months. But he doesn’t.

“What do you want to know?”

There’s so much to say, and yet it strikes him they have all the time in the world in which to say it. It’ll take more than one conversation to undo the dynamic he’s unwittingly fostered with her, but it’s a start. And really, that’s all he’s ever wanted with her, much better than a holiday in a life that's felt destined for nothing but endings: a beginning.

[ginnystrophyhusband]

We have a surprise late entry... Written as a gift for Kami-- @ginnyw-potter --our fearless leader (diligent mod, hostess with the mostess, and generous friend) as well as for the Masquerade Fest hosted by Ginny's Trophy Husband discord. My dear friends, this community is one of my favorite spaces online, so as a token of that gratitude, here is one prompt taken from each menu, used in the loosest definition, and updated daily…

The Seven Gems by ?????????

When Ginny secures an invite to one of the most exclusive (and notorious) secret clubs in London, she leaps at the chance to be involved in an Auror Investigation. But as they make their way through the establishment, Harry and Ginny realize things are not exactly as they seem. They learn a few things along the way, about magic, about the mysterious proprietor, and about themselves.

Pearl Prompt: Flirt | Rating: M | Words: 1,492

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[ginnystrophyhusband]

The gold room has a special treat for us today. Let's go all the way back to Regency London and see if Ginny can secure a match this season...

A Love Match by [redacted]

Ginny never thought that she would actually meet anyone during the London season, but then she runs into Lord Potter again and she finds herself completely smitten.

prompt: Chase, "I missed you" | rating: T | words: 1,606

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[ginnystrophyhusband]

Go undercover together with Harry and Ginny and their fellow aurors in the Gold room...

Run It Again by ??????

An Auror mission was the least romantic setting Harry could ever think of. So how on earth did it help him in his difficult relationship with Ginny?!

prompt: Squeeze, "I missed you", working together | rating: T | words: 2,854

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[ginnystrophyhusband]

The Ruby room is heating up with a secret meeting in a bar...

Beautiful Liars by ???????

Tonight of all nights, Harry does not want to be recognized.

prompt: "Let's get out of here" | rating: E | words: 2,000

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[ginnystrophyhusband]

The Pearl room takes us to a faraway land, where a prince awaits his princess...

Every Shade of Red by ???????

As the sole heir to the throne, humbling the Queen was his god-given duty, and so this was his compromise: he would not be announced at the top of the Grand Staircase (like a twit); he would arrive late (rather than not at all); and he would be masked (as everyone else would be), clad in a set of his simplest dress robes to go undetected for as long as possible. 

prompt: Flirt, Love at First Sight | rating: NR | words: 1,399

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[ginnystrophyhusband]

@ginnystrophyhusband Hinny Microfics August 2025 Day 10 Prompt: Rekindle

He wasn't sure when he'd realized the inequality of their previous relationship.

He, Ron and Hermione had agreed to tell her about the horcruxes—agreed that she and Neville of all people deserved to know—but he hadn't given her much detail about the horcrux hunt beyond that.

Even still, it was more than he knew about her year at Hogwarts.

He knew neither of them was the same person they'd been a year ago in those glorious, happy days.

But they'd agreed to get to know one another again, see if what they had had could be rekindled.

And this wasn't it.

It wasn't that they didn't have conversations, even meaningful ones.

But he had the feeling Ginny was hiding from him.

And that had prompted the realization that she still was. That she always had.

She'd always been chatty about her dormmates and gossip about everyone and quidditch.

But the deeper, more vulnerable parts—those she had never shared with him.

As he hadn't with her, in those days.

He was starting to think as much as those days being out of someone else's life had helped him, it hadn't been good for their relationship.

Ginny did not seem to agree. Her eyes flashed. "What do you want from me, Harry?"

"I want to know you again," he told her. "I want to continue to care about you, love you—"

Now she stepped back, face draining of all colour. "No. You don't—"

"You don't have to tell me everything, Ginny," he pleaded. "I keep stuff to myself too, or between me and Ron and Hermione. But we agreed. We're different now, but we promised we'd try our best again, see if we can rekindle that. And ... you're not doing that."

His voice became quieter towards the end.

"You don't want to get to know me," Ginny said flatly. "You don't want to know the things I went through, all the horrible things I, we all, did to survive."

"Yes, I do!"

"No, you don't, Harry!" She yelled back. "Because you'll blame yourself or get self-righteous and protective—"

"I—" He wasn't sure how to answer this accusation, completely wrong-footed. Harry forced himself to accept the truth of it. "I guess. I might. But I swear I'll try to listen, to understand, without making it about myself."

Which he had a tendency to do, he realized with a grimace.

It looked like the wind had been taken out of her sails, but she gathered herself. "I'm not a delicate thing for you to stash somewhere, Harry," she said quietly. "Or to protect. If we really do this, you'll have to accept that I'm a person. Who wants to be your partner, your equal."

"Gin," he tried hoarsely. "When you were eleven, you fought off a horcrux for months on the end. I barely did it at seventeen with a lot more knowledge and support. I have never doubted that you are at least my equal, if not even my superior."

She actually stepped back now. "You haven't acted like it." Now uncertainty crept into her voice; her gaze was darting frantically.

"I wouldn't have tried this again if I didn't believe that," he said truthfully. "It's dangerous for you to be with me. But God help me, I can't stay away - from you or Ron or Hermione or your family."

She looked like she'd been smacked. "You don't need to," she murmured automatically, but she still looked adrift.

"Ginny?"

"You said my name in the same breath as Ron and Hermione." Her jaw clenched. "You love them."

"Yes," he said puzzled. "I told you, I want to care about you too—"

"But you can't!" Burst out, and she slapped a hand over her mouth.

This, he realized suddenly. This was the nexus of their problems. "Why?" He pressed. "Why wouldn't I love you? Why do you think anything you could say or do would make me care less?"

"Because!" She was trembling now. "The last time I told someone everything, they sucked my soul out!"

Harry couldn't breathe suddenly. Ginny closed her eyes, defeated. "I'm not him," he whispered. It was something he tried to convince himself of day after day, that the horcrux hadn't affected him that much.

"I know that," she said with devastating simplicity. "Obviously you're not. But you're still - I don't know. You're asking me to trust you the same way I trusted him. That you'll stay. That you'll. . ." Her throat bobbed. "Love me," she finished lowly.

He reached for her hand, and to his relief, she let him take it and twine their fingers. "It was easy before," she revealed. "Because I knew there would be an end. I didn't have to let myself in all the way. I could give you bits of me, of happiness, and let it be enough."

Harry felt sick that he'd done this.

"But then I thought you died." Her voice was strangled now. "And I realized I'd given myself to you wholly anyway - that I could live without you. But I don't want to. I love you, Harry. You know that."

He nodded. "But trust is different for you."

"But trust is different for me," she agreed tiredly, and he could suddenly see how much effort it had taken her to say all this.

"Do you want to try?" He asked in a whisper.

She didn't say anything for a long moment that felt like years. "I guess if we want to try again, this is kind of necessary, huh?" She inhaled deeply. "Okay. Yes."

Relief flooded Harry, making him heady. "I'll do better too," he vowed. "Ask you more, tell you more, be more understanding, offer to listen."

"And there's the self-righteousness," she teased, with an undertone of warmth.

And it was then that he knew, that despite this being only the start, despite the long road ahead of them to build a life he desperately wanted together, they would be just fine.

[ginnystrophyhusband]

Don your mask and enter the Pearl room to see how Harry and Ginny fare when they hide their faces...

that dream you wish (will come true) by [redacted]

Safe behind her mask during the Black's Masquerade Ball, Ginny did not expect to meet someone she knew so well — only he didn't seem to be recognising her. This should hurt, only if this was the last opportunity for her to act on her feelings… isn't it better to do so anonymously?

prompt: Meet Cute | rating: Gen | words: 2,072

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[ginnystrophyhusband]

Visit the Gold room and find out who makes Ginny's day a bit brighter...

winning and beginning by [redacted]

Ginny had always been determined to win, and there being more prizes than one at the comic con she'd taken her niece to didn't distract her from that goal—only added on to it.

prompt: Laugh, Working Together | rating: Gen | words: 3,277

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[ginnystrophyhusband]

Drink first, ask questions later

Microfic for August prompt: pulse @ginnystrophyhusband

There he was, the handsome man sleeping upright at his desk chair. He had worked late into the night once again and falling asleep in the middle of work. Ginny had never intended to satisfy her hunger drinking his blood, he had simply caught her eye.

Whenever she was out looking for her next victim or willing volunteer, she saw the lights on in his home office again and again. She figured he had no family to take care of or to check in on him. He didn’t appear to be married and the only other living creature in the house was a cat that was rather indifferent to attention, though it had allowed Ginny to pet its little head when it was out on the balcony one night.

Now that he was asleep, she landed on the balcony and her wings folded into her shoulders. She pulled the hood of her cape down and looked through the open balcony door at him. She had never been that close to him before. His scent hit her like a train and her throat suddenly felt as though she would be dying of thirst soon.

She twisted herself away from him and tried to regain her composure but the scent swam around her still. Making no noise at all she walked to him. His head was tilted back, leaving his neck vulnerable and irresistible.

With every pulse of his heart, the aroma of him thickened and clogged up her senses. It was all she could think of. She hadn’t felt the urge to drink like this since she was a newly-turned vampire.

Just a little sip.

She leaned forward and her lips came to his neck. Her tongue tracked the vein, nearly whimpering from restraining herself so much. She leaned back, looking for the best place to sink her teeth in when his hand snapped to the back of her head and she froze.

Their eyes locked.

“Do it,” he said. “I know you want to.”

She hesitated, because how did he know…? Why wasn’t he more scared? “Do you trust me to stop?”

“No.”

He did not care. That worried her. It snapped her out of her thirst for the first time in minutes. She fitted herself on top of him, straddling his lap and held onto the back of the chair. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he said with serenity. “Nothing is right either, you know?”

She had grown up in London in the 1800s. She had a very different idea of when things were right or wrong. “Do you feel empty?”

He frowned for a moment, his green eyes focused on her. “I suppose.”

“I can help you—do you trust me?” she asked.

He nodded, without posing additional questions or expressing any kind of worry. It should have stopped her, but it didn’t. She found a spot on his neck where his pulse was teasing her with fresh blood. She closed her eyes and let her teeth sink in. She sucked the first drops of blood. They tasted like honey, golden and smooth on her tongue. Her fingers of her free hand dug into her palm to keep herself focused so she may not drink every last drop. He had to survive, she had just decided that she was the only one who could save him, and she would… once her thirst was quenched.

[ginnystrophyhusband]

Come join us in the Emerald room to discover what Ginny had in mind for Harry's birthday.

Scavenger Hunt by ????????

Ginny Weasley made sure Harry had a great 18th birthday.

prompt: Adventure | rating: T | words: 1,850

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[ginnystrophyhusband]

Peak into the Ruby room for a colliding of lips and reality...

say nothing sweet about love by ????????

Ginny didn't know it could be like this. Or maybe she did. Maybe that's why she'd worked so hard to convince herself of her own detachment. Why she'd forced herself into casualness. It hadn't been a pretense, or a ruse. Ginny had truly believed in her own evolution beyond the debilitating infatuation. Because deep down she knew--she fucking knew--Harry would ruin her.

prompt: their lips collided frantically | rating: M | words: 722

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[ginnystrophyhusband]

And here we have an Emerald fic to show you that this couple is never afraid to take on a challenge...

The Bet by [redacted]

Harry and Ginny place a bet over who can catch the most Dark Wizards. The loser must do whatever the winner tells them to.

prompt(s): Competitors, Winning | rating: NR | words: 2,262

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[ginnystrophyhusband]

The Sapphire room brings us a disturbing nightmare...

Solace by [redacted]

After a nightmare, Ginny Weasley only wants to ensure Harry Potter is still alive and well.

prompt: Ache | rating: NR | words: 2,000

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[ginnystrophyhusband]

You are invited to the Onyx room today, where we bear witness to the troubles of new parenthood.

The Fidelius Between Us (Your Pain is My Secret) by ????????

Their son has brought new light into Ginny’s life. She smiles so much her cheeks hurt. She wonders why Harry’s don’t quite reach his eyes.

prompt: Her heart clenched painfully | rating: T | words: 2,000

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[ginnystrophyhusband]

Join us in the Onyx room, where Healer Potter is charged with a very familiar patient...

Amortentia by ???????

Dropping his emergency portkey, Harry couldn’t fathom what he was seeing until the stench assaulted his sinuses- Golden syrup and crisp lemon peel wafting through the no-less tart-sweet peal of self-deprecating laughter. Too much zest, she opined, laughing into arms folded on Molly Weasley’s kitchen table, scored with years of scrapes and nicks as Harry fought his pucker reflex, eyes rolling in mock appreciation of her non-existent baking skills. -and with muttered curse, Harry realized St. Mungo’s reeked of Amor-fucking-tentia.

prompt: Rekindle, Fighting, Longing | rating: M | words: 2,523

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