#hinnyfic

[runningtwiceasfast]

I’ve Never Not Wanted You

This is my contribution to the Hinny Ficfest organized by the wonderful @clarensjoy - Thank you for organizing and for the fantastic contributions. I haven’t published a fic in awhile and this one is very not proofread and rough but I wanted desperately to contribute something. I hope you don’t mind this one is under the wire! Eventually I will post a cleaned up version on AO3, but in the meantime I hope you enjoy!

Prompt: “I’ve never not wanted you”

“You have to come to dinner tonight. Mum has invited another suitor and we are all going to want to watch the bloodbath.” Ron’s mouth was full of curry, so it was hard to make out exactly what he meant, but the gist was an invite for dinner.

Harry scowled in response and pushed his food away from him, suddenly having lost his appetite.

“When will Molly stop? After Ginny has killed someone?”

Ron gave a barking laugh. “Maybe. It’s hard to stop a determined Weasley though.”

“So, who is more determined? Molly to marry Ginny off or Ginny to resist?” Harry wondered out loud, still staring at his noodles as if they had offended him.

Shrugging, Ron reached over and helped himself to Harry’s discarded lunch. “Mum just wants Ginny to be happy. Wizards marry pretty young in our world and everyone else has mostly coupled off,” Ron pointed his chopsticks at Harry. “Well, except you mate.”

Harry frowned.

“I’ve been busy,” he finally said, and Ron gave a series of nods.

“Of course. Ridding the world of unstoppable evil and what not. I’m sure that’s why Mum is focused on Ginny and not you.”

“That’s a bit of a double standard, isn’t it?” Harry asked, irritated at the way the conversation had changed. The last thing he wanted to talk about was his sorry dating life. Or Ginny’s for that matter.

“The entire wizarding world is a double standard innit? Best to just make the best to just make the best of it and enjoy the show.”

Harry merely gave a small noise of assent, turning back to his noodles to find them completely gone. He looked up at Ron’s sheepish look.

“I thought you were done.”

_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Avoiding the floo network entirely, Harry opted to apparate to the Burrow, pausing outside the familiar door to collect his thoughts.

Using his free hand, he smoothed down his shirt and jeans, his other hand grasping the bottle of red wine Arthur had mentioned he liked the last time they had dined together at Grimmauld Place. He rose his hand to knock, but the door swung open before his fist even made contact.

“Harry! You’ve come to save me!” Harry was rather unprepared for the sight of Ginny, fresh faced and beautiful, greeting him at the door and found himself unable to say much of anything other than a grumbled hello as he shoved the bottle of wine at her.

She was wearing a simple black cotton dress that hugged her waist and flared out at the bottom. Her hair was down and bouncing around her shoulders. He gestured stupidly at his ears.

“You are wearing the earrings.”

She gave a tinkling laugh and pushed her hair behind her ear so he could see more clearly the diamond studs that he had given her last Christmas. “I’ve practically never taken them off. They are gorgeous. Probably one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten.” She smiled at him sincerely and he felt his heart rate accelerate uncomfortably.

“I’m glad you like them so much.” He smiled back at her and they remained that way, smiling at each other silently before Ginny was called rather abruptly from the other room.

She gave a grimace in response. “She’s invited Ernie Macmillan over can you believe it? Him and Hermione are currently fighting over some horribly boring historical fact in the other room and she expects me to marry this man?” She rolled her eyes and Harry gave a weak laugh in response.

Learning up, she gave him a light kiss on the cheek, her hand resting on his arm. “It’s so lovely to see you, Harry. Please feel free to rescue me from inane conversation as you see fit.”

She floated away and he stood there struck rather dumb for a few moments.

Following the trail of voices from the entryway, Harry entered the living area to various greetings. It appeared he was one of the last to arrive and he grabbed a butterbeer and joined in where Ron and George were huddled together by the fireplace.

“I think the formula is off. People shouldn’t be incapacitated. Just unconscious for a short while.”

George shook his head. “They are fine if you just poke them—Harry! You’ve come to join us!” George gave him a broad smile that Harry couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“Is this for something you’ve already invented, or you have created something else to wreak havoc on the wizarding public?”

“Harry my dear boy, I’m not sure why it can’t be both,” George said sincerely causing Harry to snort into his bottle.

Ginny’s laughter brought their attention to where she was standing in the center of the room with Ernie.

Ron frowned. “Maybe mum actually found a winner.”

They watched as Ginny laughed again at something Ernie said, her hand placed on his arm.

“Apparently he works with Percy. Probably in the Department of who has the biggest stick up their arse,” George laughed to himself.

Harry frowned as he watched Ernie with his patrician features and pedigree push a tendril of crimson hair behind Ginny’s ear causing her to blush.

“What did that bottle do to you mate?” Ron joked and Harry looked down at the tight grip he was maintaining on his butterbeer. He loosened his grip and stretched his fingers.

Molly’s appearance in the room quieted most conversations as she herded everyone into the dining area where amazing smells were wafting. It required gymnastics in order for everyone to get into the magically enhanced room.

“No no Ginny. Don’t sit there. Sit over here by Ernie,” Molly smiled warmly at the tall boy. Ernie smiled back in a way that made Harry’s hand flinch towards his wand, imagining all the new curses he had recently mastered in his second year auror training.

“Mum it took me straining my hop to even get a seat. I’m going to stay right here,” she turned to Harry who suddenly realized how close she was. “You are ok with that right Harry?” Her eyes widened slightly and he managed to cotton on.

“Er yes sorry Molly. Ginny is fine here.” She gave him a brilliant smile and nudged his shoulder with hers.

“I think I’ve lost some of my brain cells.” Harry had to resist flinching as he felt her breath brush his hair as Ginny leaned over and whispered to him.

He gave a tight-lipped smile. “You seemed rather fond of this one,” he whispered in return to her causing her to wave a hand at him dismissively.

“I’m just trying to be nice. If I hex this one she will just bring in someone worse. I heard Malfoy was keen,” she gave a dramatic shiver, her impish smile telling another story.

Harry felt a rush of relief he tried not to analyze. “Molly can keep on bringing by all the unsuitable young men of the English wizarding world if it means I get to sit next to you.” The words are soft and filled with way too much feeling and for one frightening heartbeat he wished he could take them back.

She remained silent, grabbing a dinner roll form the passed tray and fidgeting with it between her hands. “Harry, you shouldn’t say such things to me,” she finally said mildly, refusing to look at him. “I might start getting ideas.”

Impulsively he reached for one of her hands, forcing her to drop the bread. He pulled her hand under the table and squeezed it gently.

They sat with hands clasped under the table, but otherwise ignoring each other, answering direct questions but otherwise staying mostly silent. Harry thought he saw Ginny’s face was rather shiny and he wondered what he looked like. Probably pale white and sickly.

“Ginny, how goes the season? Should I be placing my Harpy’s bets now?” Ernie asked Ginny directly causing her to drop Harry’s hand and inhale shakily.

“Oh, I’m just reserve for now. But a bet on the Harpies is always a safe bet,” Ginny gave a wicked smile causing the table to collectively give a ruckus laugh.

“Ernie, you know Ginny is the youngest reserve chaser in the league,” Molly boasted, and Harry noticed Ginny resist rolling her eyes.

“Mum, I’m so glad you support my career choice now.” The words were biting but the soft look in her eyes made Harry think Ginny actually meant them.

Harry stole a look at Justin. To his disgust the boy was looking at Ginny rather starry eyed. It isn’t like Harry could blame him; a similar look frequently graced his own face.

He was rather sick of it all though. The constant parade of unworthy men being thrust at Ginny.

The rather petulant thought that Molly had never asked him to be one of those unworthy men flew through his brain unhelpfully. Perhaps everyone had given up on the possibility of him and Ginny ever making it work.

They had made it work though. For a few blissful months they had been something new and delicate and untouchable. Frequently Harry thought back to some of those times. Of walks around the school, hands clasped and of breathless goodbyes leaving them both wanting and late for class.

Ever since the war Harry had been trying to pick up the pieces, but it had been hard and often he had found himself rather aimless. Without even realizing it, he had found that he had pulled back on all the ties that bound him-rarely coming by the Burrow, never seeing friends other than around the office and busying himself with work and tracking down rogue Death Eaters.

He had finally looked up and while he had stayed in the same spot, everyone else had moved on. Ron had ditched the aurors and found his calling with George in the joke shop. Hermione had proven herself immensely capable apart from him in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

And Ginny had graduated from Hogwarts and immediately absconded to Harpy training camp.

Unfortunately, in all his chosen one lessons with Dumbledore, the wise wizard had never told him what happens after the bad guy has been slain. What happens to the chosen one when he’s done being chosen?

In this instance it seemed as if Harry was doomed to sit there and watch as everyone he loved moved on without him. Bitterly he looked down at the roast on his plate, moving the discarded pees around with his fork.

“You gonna finish that?” Harry looked up to find he was almost done at the table, Ron leaning over him, fork in hand.

Scowling, Harry pushed his plate towards Ron who tucked in happily. “Ernie left a bit ago,” Ron said, in between bites. Harry’s eyes snapped up at that.

“Why would I care whether or not Ernie had left?” Harry snarked at him, frowning when Ron paused his eating to give Harry a knowing look.

“Either way, Ginny is in the backyard if you want to talk to her,” Ron scooped up some mashed potatoes. “Or not.” He shrugged.

Harry pushed away from the table and paused in front of the living room. He could hear the rest of the Weasley’s making their normal noises and he hesitated before joining, his eyes straying to the backyard where Ron had said Ginny was.

Whatever gravitational pull Ginny had made the decision for him as Harry turned and slipped out the door.

She was silhouetted against the starry sky, the light of the moon reflecting off her hair in a way that made his throat dry. He approached her slowly and she turned at his footsteps, giving him a warm smile.

“I came out to get some fresh air,” she told him unnecessarily and he plopped down next to her, his arm brushing hers. “These family gatherings can be a lot,” she said, her voice so quiet he could barely hear her, but that’s probably more to do with the quick sound of his heartbeat in his ears.

Feeling that same impulsive urge he had felt during dinner that let him hold her hand, he lifted his arm up and over her shoulders. They both froze at the contact, but before he could regret it, she leaned in, setting her head on his shoulder.

“Where did Ernie go?” Harry asked eventually, that familiar monster roaring in his chest.

Ginny leaned even further into his side. “He got an owl, had to go into the office.” Her hair brushed against his neck and he caught a whiff of her comforting flower scent that hadn’t changed since sixth year.

“Did you want him to stay?” He asked her, the darkness giving him some sort of courage.

She shook her head. “Not really. He wasn’t as bad as the other’s, but he’s not really who I want,” she said, voice low and husky.

Finally, she sighed deeply and pulled away, pulling her knees under the skirt of her dress and into her stomach.

“At least he seemed to want me,” she mumbled, and Harry took a deep breath, tired of always waiting for the right moment.

“I’ve never not wanted you, Ginny.”

Amazingly, the words didn’t sound weak or pathetic out loud like they did in his head. Instead, all he felt was relief.

The sound of a sharp intake of breath was the only indication that he had been heard. Summoning his Gryffindor courage, he looked up at Ginny. She was staring at him, eyes wide.

“You want me?” She asked finally, incredulously.

He ran a hand through his hair nervously. “Watching your mum parade those boys in front of you has been a special kind of hell for me Gin. I miss you.” They aren’t the most eloquent words, but they are the ones he had.

“Then why didn’t you say anything, you stupid arse?” Ginny finally spit out and Harry let out a choke of laughter.

“I’m an idiot?” He told her helpfully and she shook her head, a fond smile on her face.

“Can you come closer Harry? I need to smack you,” she laughed, and Harry obliged, scooting back towards her until there was no space between them, his body tingling in anticipation.

“So no more set ups from your mum?” He asked, moving his face toward hers so close he could feel each breath she took, could count the freckles on her face from just the soft light of the stars.

“Harry I can confidently tell you I will no longer let my mum dictate my romantic life from here on out,” she giggled and Harry fought the smile that threatened to climb up his cheeks.

“Harry,” she said, drawing his attention back to her and her lips.

“Yes?”

“I’ve never not wanted you to kiss me,” she said before closing the small gap between them, her soft, sweet lips under his. Suddenly all the pining and scowling became worth it as he rolled them over, her body under his, molding to each other as if reminding him that they’ve done this before.

As he kissed and kissed her, lips trailing down her neck, he sent a silent thank you to whatever work emergency had claimed Ernie’s attention. Tonight and forever Ginny was his. And he set about showing her over and over.

_*_*_*_*_*_*_

“Ernie Macmillan? Really?” Ron took a noisy bite of his biscuit.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Ronald,” Molly tutted, waiving her wand so the corresponding feather duster would wipe down the windows properly.

“I just want you to know that I know what you did,” Ron shrugged, gesturing out the window Molly was cleaning to where Harry and Ginny were clearly engaged in some unwholesome activities.

Molly smiled at the image the pair made before closing the curtain and turning back towards her youngest son.

“Don’t you have your own home?” He lifted his hands in surrender before leaving the room. Molly watched as he disappeared from view. Really, what was she supposed to do? Let them pine away for each other forever? No, she did the right thing. She did feel a little bad poor Ernie would have to go all the way into work to find that emergency cauldron bottom situation wasn’t quite the emergency that ministry owl had made it seem. But the boy had gotten a home cooked meal for dinner so he surely made out alright.

Smiling one more time to herself, a very satisfied Molly Weasley set about cleaning dishes, brainstorming how she might next get Percy to dinner along with that nice young man Oliver Wood.

[ladyknightleyisundercover]

A Baker’s Dozen

some saccharine sweetness because quarantine means time to write again and all i wanted to produce was hinny fluff :) read on AO3

“Something smells good,” Harry calls, on arriving home. He follows his nose to the kitchen, where Ginny is eyeing a cake she has clearly just pulled out of the oven. “Oh, yum. Is that dinner?”

She pulls a face, and swats him away when he tries to reach for it, so he settles for wrapping his arms around her waist, and they stand there, pressed against each other, surveying it. “It’s for Helen’s birthday,” she explains. “Which is tomorrow, and I don’t have time to bake another, so no touching.”

“I didn’t realise you and Helen were that close?” says Harry. Helen was one of three Healers the Harpies employed to ensure their team were at the peak of their physical fitness. As far as he could remember, though, she mostly worked with their reserve squad, so Ginny, who was always in the starting seven, didn’t have that much contact with her.

“It’s this new thing we’re trialling at work this year,” she explains. “We were just getting absolutely inundated with cake—whenever it was someone’s birthday, everyone would bake a cake and bring it in. Gwynog was starting to worry about our nutritional intake. So this year, she made us pull names out of a hat, and whosever name you got, you and you alone were responsible for baking their birthday cake. Everyone went in, all the players and coaches and Healers, and I got Helen.”

“Well if it tastes as good as it smells, she should count herself lucky,” Harry declares.

“It does,” say Ginny with confidence. “There was some stuck to the bottom of the tin that I helped myself to. And no,” she adds, “there is no more.”

“That’s terrible,” he teases, “I’m cake-deprived. You’re a terrible girlfriend.”

She rolls her eyes, grinning. “Yeah, yeah,” she says. “Honestly, though, I’m more worried about how it looks. Last month, Jen brought this amazing cake done out in the Harpies colours for Miriam’s birthday, and when we cut it open, a load of confetti and fireworks burst out of it. This might taste okay, but it doesn’t look great, and I’m not exactly skilled on the icing front...”

For all the tempting smells, Harry has to admit it is very misshapen. Ginny isn’t going to win any marks for presentation, that’s for sure. “I’d never want to eat a green cake, though,” he says loyally.

Ginny smiles, and extracts herself from his arms. “Even though you’re cake-deprived?”

“Even though I’m cake-deprived,” he confirms. She’s digging around inside the cupboard now, and pulls out a jar of buttercream and some candles, each of which are shaped into the letters of ‘happy birthday’.

“I’ve got this—shop-bought, but don’t tell anyone—and some edible glitter,” she says. “If I pile it on, it should hide any lumps, and then I’ll stick the candles on. It won’t win any awards, but it should do, right?”

Harry nods. “Don’t overthink this,” he assures her. “If it tastes good, no one will care what it looks like. I just think it’s nice that everyone at the club will get an additional birthday cake on their birthday. A family-and-friends cake and a work cake. That’s great! When I was a kid, I’d have killed for just one cake. I mean, it’s not like the Dursleys ever...” He trails off, aware that Ginny is looking at him in that way she does sometimes.

Well, ‘sometimes’.

She only ever looks that way—shocked, even appalled for a moment, then quietly, utterly furious—when he mentions one thing: the Dursleys. She opens her mouth, closes it for a long moment, then, when she speaks again, her tone is very, very carefully controlled. “You never had a birthday cake, growing up?” she asks.

“I guess my parents must have, my first year...” he says. “I don’t know, there aren’t any pictures. But then I didn’t have one again until my eleventh, you know, when Hagrid turned up.” He’s trying to make light of it, to move the conversation on, but he can’t be doing a very good job because Ginny continues to look absolutely furious. “You know, on the scale of all the things the Dursleys did, not giving me a birthday cake is not that big of a deal��”

Ginny makes one of her angry cat noises. “When we were kids...well, you know how poor we were,” she says, a moment later. “Some years, our birthday presents were just hand-me-down clothes wrapped up in old newspaper because Mum and Dad literally couldn’t afford to get us anything else. Not even proper wrapping paper. But we always, always had a birthday cake. And Mum never skimped, either. It was always whatever flavour we wanted, nothing too much trouble, decorated however we chose!”

“Your Mum is really good at baking,” Harry jumps in, trying to head her off as her voice rises in agitation. “I mean, that Snitch cake she did for my seventeenth? Made up for all the ones I didn’t get!”

“And it’s not like Mum and Dad were doing anything unusual there. Every kid gets birthday cake. That’s your job as an adult,” Ginny carries on regardless, and Harry realises he hasn’t done a great job in calming her down. “Even if you go to the shop and buy it because you’re crap at baking. Even if you’re dentists like Hermione’s parents and don’t believe in sugar, you still get a cake. And maybe it’s not that big of a deal compared to the other stuff those people did, but it is just another example of how they are absolute, complete—”

“Alright,” Harry says hastily. “It’s okay, Gin, honestly it is. I’m over it. They’re the past, now, and I survived, and—”

“They are terrible people,” she says, shaking her head. “What you said earlier about being cake-deprived—”

“That was just a dumb joke,” he says. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Honestly I’m not traumatised by it, I was just kidding.”

“I know, I know,” she says. She sighs, and puts down the tub of buttercream she’s been holding onto, waving it around in agitation as she speaks. “I know it was just a joke, but it is true. You were cake-deprived. And yes, like you say, on the scale of all the things they did to you, it’s not that big of a deal. But it’s just so representative of what despicable humans they are. You had eleven birthdays without a single cake—and I assume no cards or presents, too?”

“No cards or presents, yes, but not eleven birthdays—Hagrid came through for me, remember? So just ten. Well, nine, I guess, because my parents must have done one when I was one, like I said. It’s fine, I swear.” She gives him a look. “I guess next birthday, rather than a present, you can just bake me nine cakes, plus one for this year, so a nice round ten, and I’ll be all caught up, yeah?” he says.

Ginny still looks troubled, so he tries to make more of a joke of it by going back to the cake she made for her colleague, which is still on the worktop. “Actually, I could start by eating this one, and...” He flicks his wand at it, so it starts levitating, and he pretends to take a bite.

She pulls a face again. “Damage my cake, Potter, and I’ll make you pay,” she says, but her heart isn’t in the teasing like it usually is.

“Ooh, sounds fun,” he tries, but carefully lowers it back down nonetheless. Then he walks over to her and wraps his arms around her again, and she rests her head on his chest. “Honestly, don’t spare them any thought,” he says. “They are terrible people. I know this. The no-birthday-cake thing was an awful thing to do to a kid, and I used to get upset about it. But now, I’m over it. Really.”

She gives him a look—not disbelieving, as such, but still not completely convinced that he’s not just saying these things to make her feel okay. She thinks its subtle, but he, of course, understands. “Look,” he says, “I have you, and Ron and Hermione, and everything and everyone else, and I am happy. And they are sad, sad individuals living their sad, sad lives and they will be until the end. Who wins, really?”

“Well,” she says, “when you put it like that...”

“It’s obvious,” he agrees. Then he grins. “This summer, we’ll do a cake-tasting, or something. Like wine-tasting, but with cake. Much better.”

She laughs. “Cake-tasting! I am on board.”

“See, it’s almost like they did me a favour!” he says.

Ginny wrinkles her nose. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far…”

*

Her cake for Helen, while not one that sets the world on fire, goes down just fine at work. Harry, meanwhile, is normal. Happy. Busy with work, sure, but he shows no signs of lasting trauma after their conversation. Not that Ginny expects it: even after all these years, she’s still not used to the casualness with which he will announce something totally shocking about his past. Not being given a birthday cake is clearly not on a par with having bars put on his bedroom window, or being forced to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs.

But it still shocks her to her core.

And she can’t shake it. She has half a mind to organise the cake-tasting he’d been joking about, but truthfully, baking has never been her strong suit, and she doesn’t want to let anyone else know, for Harry’s sake. She knows he mentions things about his upbringing to Ron and Hermione sometimes, but she also knows she has to let him drive these conversations. Her mentioning this latest revelation to them would only upset him. So she keeps quiet, until, one day in early June, nearly a month later, it comes to her.

“When do you come off nights, again?” she asks him, over breakfast-for-dinner.

“Wednesday, why?” he asks. “You want to do something?”

“I’m feeling a party coming on,” she replies. “Friday sound good?”

“Sure,” Harry says, “but what’s the occasion?”

“Well, we had our housewarming back in February,” she says, referring to the party they had when they had officially moved in to Grimmauld Place together. “But we never had a garden warming.”

“Well, no,” Harry says, “because the garden’s tiny. Not much to warm.”

“It’s big enough for our lot,” she replies. This is hard to argue with: ‘our lot’ can anything from the two of them, Ron and Hermione, to everyone. At their housewarming, ‘our lot’ meant assorted Weasleys (a houseful on their own); other ex-DA and Order members; some of Ginny’s fellow Harpies; a few colleagues of Harry and Ron’s from the Auror Department; anyone who’s ever been employed at Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes; and a fluctuating number of plus ones as all of the above get into, and sometimes out of, relationships. Harry somehow senses, by the gleam in Ginny’s eye, that this time she’s means everyone.

“The forecast’s good,” she adds. “The garden is pretty big, plus we’ve got the kitchen—and the rest of the house if it comes to it. BYOB, we’ll get a few snacks in, get Lee to play for us... It’ll be fun!”

It would be fun, Harry had to admit. The parties the two of them threw were not usually anything special, really—they didn’t spend lots of money on entertainment, just invited people round, asked them to bring drinks, and left it at that—but this was what made them special. Their housewarming had been ace: why not a garden warming?

“If you insist,” he says, rolling his eyes like she’s asked him for a kidney, and she laughs.

“That’s settled, then,” she says, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll let everyone know: party here on Friday. Get your dancing shoes out, Potter!”

*

Come Friday, Ron and Hermione are the first to arrive.

Harry’s in the garden, magicing up some extra chairs when they apparate in, and he waves them over, giving Hermione a hug while Ron carefully arranges a cake on the centre of the table Ginny’s set up. This takes longer than it should, and both Harry and Hermione watch, amused. “Behold,” he says, when it’s placed precisely how he wants it. “Pumpkin pie and custard cake.” He waits for a flourish which doesn’t come.

“Er…?” says Harry.

“I told you it sounded revolting,” Hermione says, rolling her eyes affectionately.

Ron looks mortally wounded. “How dare you!” he says. “I have spent hours concocting the precise recipe for a cake-pie hybrid, and this—”

“Oh please, not the cake-pie speech again!” she cuts in, throwing her hands up in front of her face in horror. “I swear, ever since he took up baking he’s become absolutely unbearable,” she adds to Harry and Ginny, who has just appeared from inside the house.

“You just can’t deal with the fact that I’m better at something than you,” Ron says smugly.

“Oh...whatever,” she replies, trying—unsuccessfully—to hide her smile. “Anyway, Ginny, how are you?”

Before she can answer, they are interrupted by Dean and Seamus, who have just arrived. Harry knew Ginny had invited them, so their presence is not exactly unexpected. What is unexpected is what is in the box they are holding, and the shriek Hermione lets out on seeing it. “Is that a Colin the Caterpillar cake?!” she squeals.

“Sure is,” grins Dean. Seamus gives an I-don’t-know-either shrug in the direction of the two Weasleys, but Hermione is all but clawing it out of Dean’s hands.

“I have never wanted something for my birthday as much as I wanted one of these,” she sighs almost dreamily. “But my parents were absolutely horrified by the sugar content and wouldn’t let me have one. Plus, they said it was rampant consumerism when a perfectly good, unbranded plain sponge cake would do just fine. Which probably wasn’t too far wrong. But...oh, goodness, you must let me have a piece.”

Dean laughs. “Of course! We always got one every year for our birthdays when we were kids.”

“Dudley used to love ’em,” Harry says. “One year, he had three. One just for him, and the other two to be split between the rest of the kids at the party. But he still ate the face from both of them.”

“What are they?” asks Ron, looking slightly displeased at the excitement Hermione is showing for a shop-bought cake in a box, especially after she was less than enthused about his own creation.

“Chocolate swiss roll smothered in chocolate, with a white chocolate face and feet, and smarties for decoration,” Dean says promptly.

“That sounds—” Ron begins.

“Incredible,” Ginny nods, and everyone laughs. Harry briefly wonders why the two of them have brought a muggle children’s cake to the party, but then Seamus starts ribbing Ron about the Cannons’ last game, Hermione disappears inside with Ginny in search of more plates, and Katie Bell arrives, distracting him.

“Hi, Katie,” he says, waving her over. She’s apparated into the yard like the others had, and she, too, is carefully carrying a cake on a plate.

“Hi, Harry!” she says. “Thank you so much for having us over, it’s great to see you again. Can I put this on the table?”

“Uh...sure,” he says. He eyes the cake with some confusion, which she sees, but misinterprets.

“It’s pineapple upside-down cake,” she explains. “Only,” she adds, sounding slightly worried. “I’ve never made it before. So I’m not sure if it’s actually pineapple right-side-up cake.”

“As long as it tastes good, right?” he asks, deciding to roll with it.

“That’s the spirit,” Katie says, laughing. “Anyway, how are you?” They chat about inconsequential things for a few moments, and it never seems to him quite the right time to ask why she’s brought a home-made, slightly wonky looking pineapple upside down cake to a garden party. But when Bill and Fleur, and then Susan Bones and her partner arrive almost simultaneously, both couples carrying cakes as well, he starts to suspect something is up.

Susan has brought a very neat Victoria sponge cake, dusted with icing sugar and layered with strawberry jam and cream. It is, Harry thinks, a very Susan cake. Bill and Fleur have bought Victoire (who is to go down a storm: later, they’ll say they’re only going to stay for a half an hour, but will end up staying nearly three, mostly because they get to nap whilst the baby is passed around and cooed over) and a galette des rois.

“Of course, traditionally, one only eats this at the New Year,” Fleur explains. “But Ginny said—” unfortunately, Ron, Dean and Katie Bell all burst out laughing at something Seamus has said at this exact moment, and Harry doesn’t hear exactly what Ginny said, though he’s starting to suspect, “—and so I could not not introduce you all to French culture.” She makes her you’re welcome face, but fortunately Victoire starts squawking and her attention is diverted before Harry has to come up with a response.

A few more people arrive: Oliver Wood, looking very sheepish with two muffins he confesses he stole from the Puddlemere staff canteen at the last moment, having forgotten Ginny’s request; Parvarti and Lavender, carrying a honey cake. George and Angelina arrive with a delicious-looking chocolate cake which everyone eyes with intense suspicion until Angelina rolls her eyes and loudly says that she made it at which point everyone relaxes. (When the first person to take a bite from it turns into a large cockatoo for a moment, a la the Canary Creams, she rolls her eyes again and says that she said she made it, not that she wasn’t also capable of creating a Wheeze. Fortunately, the cake itself so delicious that nobody actually minds turning into a parrot).

While this is all going on, Ginny remains in the kitchen, or else when she comes outside, she’s always deep in conversation with someone. At first, it seems natural—she’s always been sociable, but after a while, Harry starts to think she’s avoiding him. Glancing in through the window, he sees her talking in the kitchen with a couple of girls from the Harpies’ squad who have just arrived, with, it appears, a large cake apiece.  

Everyone wants to say hello to Harry when they get there, so he ends up taking up residence by the table on the yard for a while, welcoming everyone and watching the cakes pile up. He starts to feel like he’s ended up at the village show by mistake and will be asked to judge everyone’s offerings. Alicia Spinnett turns up with what is essentially a giant, handmade cauldron cake, and Percy brings something covered in buttercream with rows of sweet cherries on the top that are so neatly arranged Harry suspects he used a set square.

Lee Jordan brings his decks and an incredibly boozy trifle; Harry makes a mental note to not let anyone who has a helping also have any of Hannah Abbott’s Firewhiskey fruitcake. “Half the bottle’s in there, I swear,” Neville says, when they place it down among the growing collection. Hannah elbows him and makes a comment that the other half would’ve been in there, too, had he not helped himself to it, and they walk off, laughing.

The party already has a good vibe to it and it’s hardly begun—the weather’s turning into summer, and so the yard is warm, but not stifling and Ginny’s placed flobberworms in jars around the place which give the yard a magical luminosity. Lee sets up his music, everyone’s talking and laughing, drinks in hand, and Harry’s just about to go over to where Ron and Neville appear to be having a very animated conversation when someone places a plate down on the now bulging table. While Harry logically knows it must be a cake, if only because literally everyone else has bought one, it bares a startling resemblance to burnt toast.

“I’m sorry,” says Dennis Creevey, by way of a greeting. “It’s a travesty, I know. I wouldn’t have bought it, but I was too scared of Ginny to turn up empty handed.” He tips Harry a wink, and Harry grins back.

“You realise you could’ve stopped off at the corner shop and picked up something readymade?” he says.

Dennis makes a show of slapping himself on the forehead, like he forgot something really obvious. “See, mate, this is why you’re the Auror and I’m not. Can’t think on my feet, me,” he says. “No, seriously, that did occur to me. But I wasn’t sure what the rules were with non-homemade things.”

“The rules?” Harry asks.

“Yes, you know, after Ginny’s frankly terrifying invitation.”

“I seem to have misplaced mine,” Harry says, “remind me again what she said?”

“We bumped into each other last week in Diagon Alley,” Dennis replies. “And she’s all, oh, we’re having this party next Friday, are you free? And I said yes, and she said we’ll that’s great, we’ll see you around seven, oh and on pain of death, bring a cake. So I asked what kind of cake, and she said that any would do. But she said she was concocting a special punishment for anyone who turned up empty-handed. I mean, she sounded like she was joking. But d’you remember the fancy dress party, last winter? And what happened to Percy, when he didn’t turn up in costume?”

“I do,” Harry says, matching his grave tone. “Well, we can’t have a repeat of that.”

“Anyway, I asked: why cake? I mean, fancy dress at least makes sense, right?” Harry nods, and Dennis carries on, oblivious to his sudden focus. “And she just said, and I quote, ‘I just love cake, and so does anyone with a brain, so why not have a party where all there is to eat is cake?’”

“Why not indeed,” Harry says. It’s such a Ginny thing to do: make up something that sounds like a silly game, a quirk, a touch of whimsy. Let everyone think it’s just because that’s how she is, but actually, make it a secret present to him.

Truth be told, he’d forgotten about their conversation a couple of weeks ago, when his joke about being cake-deprived had accidentally become A Thing. But clearly she hadn’t, and not only has she now done all this for him, she’s done it in such a way that no one will ever know. She’s squared it so that no one will ever know about the Dursleys and their treatment of him, but he gets all the cakes he missed out on anyway. It’s the silliest thing—it’s just cake!—but at the same time, it’s the best thing.

“...think it’ll be okay?”

Harry blinks. “Sorry, what was that?”

“My cake,” Dennis says. “I know it’s a disaster, but do you think it’ll count?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll vouch for your monstrosity,” he says cheerfully. “Besides—and I never thought I’d say this—I think if anything we might have too much cake.”

“Nah,” says Dennis. “No such thing.” Harry laughs, and then Dennis is summoned over by George, leaving Harry free to do what he wants to most right now: find Ginny.

What he gets, instead, is Luna.

Despite the fact that she’s pretty much the last person to arrive, and so the table by which he’s still standing is now absolutely covered with cakes of all description, she still manages to look incredibly vague as she places one down next to all the others. It looks like a fairly basic sponge, except that it’s a rich purple colour and covered with a bright orange frosting. “Oh, hello Harry,” she says, looking slightly surprised to see him at his own house party. “Fancy seeing you here. Would you like a piece of my cake?”

Harry thinks he would rather eat a slice of Dennis’s burnt monstrosity—would rather eat the whole thing—but gamely agrees, then, with an overly-dramatic slap on the forehead, exclaims that he doesn’t have a knife to cut a piece. “Not to worry!” Ron and Hermione have appeared, both carrying several knives and forks, and a pile of plates. “Ginny sent us out with these.”

Harry looks over, and finds her now talking to Bill and Fleur, baby Victoire balanced on her hip. As he watches, she carefully hands Victoire over to her parents, then slides over to where Susan Bones and her partner are talking, saying something which makes them both laugh, then drops in to say hi to Lavender and Parvati, getting briefly drawn into whatever good-natured debate they’re having. She flits in between everyone’s conversations, and maybe it’s just him projecting, but it feels like everyone lights up when she joins them.

She catches him staring at her when she’s midway through a chat with Neville and Hannah, and even though they’ve been together for years now, it still makes him blush. She winks at him, and smirks, and he deliberately looks away, making a conscious effort to refocus on the conversation at hand. Luna is going into great detail about her cake, which appears to be made of Dirigible Plums, chocolate, and Gillywater essence, which both sounds revolting and, according to Hermione, is not technically legal.

“...should let her know that distilled Gillywater is a class-three non-tradeable—”

“What was that, sorry?” Luna says, and Hermione opens her mouth again, looking vexed.

“Hermione was just saying how delicious your cake looks,” Ron says smoothly, and Luna looks flattered.

“You should give Ron the recipe,” Ginny adds, coming over to join them. “He’s a fantastic baker, and he’d love to try it.”

“You must have the first slice!” beams Luna. Ron looks panic-stricken. “Is there a knife? And some plates?”

“Oh, look at that, we’re out of plates,” Ron says, quickly sliding a stack behind Alicia Spinnet’s giant cauldron cake.

Harry catches Ginny’s eye, then they both have to look away for fear of laughing.

Fortunately, Neville comes over and start asking Luna about some new species of Murtlap which has been bred by a team of Magizoologists in Argentina, and the conversation turns away. Hermione starts magically slicing the cakes, and Ron goes rooting around in the kitchen for all the cutlery he can find, whilst Ginny walks around the different groups, inviting people to dig in.

And dig in they do: everyone, it turns out, thinks a cake party is an excellent idea (“But then it would be, wouldn’t it?” Ginny says when Lavender says this to her, “I thought of it!”). The music is turned up, darkness falls, and the drinks flow, and it’s certainly well into the early hours before the last stragglers have left. Ron and Hermione offer to stay to help with the clearing up, but Harry and Ginny both wave them away. “We’ll do it in the morning,” Ginny says, yawning. “The proper morning,” she adds, glancing at Gideon Prewett’s battered old watch on Harry’s wrist. And, after a final round of goodbyes, it’s suddenly just the two of them in the yard.

Well, the two of them and the remains of upwards of twenty cakes.

Ginny lets out a huge, long yawn which leads into a full body stretch and Harry seizes the moment to reach out and pull her close, dropping a kiss down on her head. “Thank you,” he says quietly.

“...mmm?” she responds, snuggling in.

He could brush it off, pretend he’s said nothing—or at least nothing of any importance—and lead her off to bed, but somehow that doesn’t seem right. “Thank you,” he says again, more clearly. She’s been burrowing into his chest, but she stops for a moment, not pulling away, exactly, but certainly not going any further.

“Harry,” she says, very very softly—and it’s clear that, as usual, she know exactly what is is he is saying, even when he’s not saying anything at all.

“Thank you,” he says, for a third time, and more firmly still. “Thank you for tonight, and for the cakes, and for...for everything. It means a lot.”

She pulls back far enough that she can see his face, and her own has never looked so loving. She gives him a smile so small as to be almost shy. “I’m glad,” she says, and he thinks, then, that it is impossible for anyone to have ever understood another person as much as she understands him, and that he must be the luckiest person living. She gives his arm the gentlest squeeze. “It was a good night,” she says, and he nods in agreement.

“There’s just one thing...” she says hesitantly. She seems to be pausing, collecting her words, and Harry turns his head ever so slightly to one side.

“What is it?” he asks after a moment, as she hesitates. He wonders if she’s leading up to a question about the Dursleys, something sensitive and delicate which leaves her reaching carefully for the right words.

“Oh...” she says. “Just...” It happens so fast that he can hardly credit it—but, he supposes, she is an international Quidditch star, known for her almost inhuman reflexes. Still, it crosses his mind that his boss, Gawain Robards, might be less than enamoured to know that the leading light of his Auror department can be caught out by a five foot one menace, shouting “Gotcha!” and shoving the remains of Percy’s buttercream sponge in his face.

He blinks for a moment, pulling his glasses off to wipe them on his shirt even as he can feel the rest of the icing sliding down his face. Ginny’s musical laughter comes from somewhere over to his right, as she’s sensibly stepped out of retaliation’s way, and he freezes in place for a few seconds. The laughter trails away, until: “...Harry?”

And then he moves, lunging towards Luna’s Dirigible Plum cake, grabbing a handful, and lobbing it in her direction. Her shriek lets him know he hasn’t missed his target, even shooting (practically) blind. He takes the moment to wipe his glasses clean, placing them back on his face just in time to see her eyes narrow.

“Oh, Potter,” she says, grinning in delight. “It is on.”

My thanks to Emily, for the encouragement, and everyone who’s ever re-written *that* HBP movie mince pie scene, for the inspo x

[sunlit-days]

Begin Again

Pairing: Harry/Ginny

The Leaky Cauldron was empty, there were no more than ten people inside the bar, nothing unusual for a Monday night. At least there were only few people who were witnessing a Ginny Weasley, alone, sitting at a table in the corner, drinking her third dose of firewhiskey in less than thirty minutes. She’d get drunk very fast if she kept up at that pace, but that was exactly why she went there after work.

She sighed loudly. Everything was going well, Ginny didn’t know what that exactly meant, but in her conception, things had already been so much worse, so now it was not so bad. That year marked the third anniversary of the ending of the war and the day Tom finally had the end he deserved, it’s also been two years since Ginny had left Hogwarts and a year since she had begun to work for the Quidditch World Magazine.

Working for a magazine was not at all what Ginny dreamed of working. She really wanted to be a Quidditch player — to be a chaser, more precisely — but things didn’t turn out the way they were meant to be. After leaving Hogwarts, she almost immediately received an invitation to try to join her favorite team, the Holyhead Harpies, but the timing didn’t feel right.

The war was harsh for everyone, Ginny knew that very well, each person had his own way of dealing with the pain, and losing Fred was... Ginny didn’t like to remember and that's exactly why she decided to refuse Gwenog Jones’s invitation. Leaving the Burrow and spending more time with the team than with her family wasn’t what Ginny wanted for that moment. Ginny always had been an independent person, but in her defense, she was not quite feeling like herself back then.

And that's how she ended up going to work for the magazine. Writing about Quidditch was almost as good as playing — though the feeling of flying on a broom and the excitement a game provide was something Ginny still couldn’t compare — and the paycheck was not so bad. For now, she was still just a trainee, but soon she would have a chance to be much more than that.

It was for this reason that Ginny Weasley was drinking on a Monday night.

"Hard day?" Ron asked after getting his own dose of Firewhiskey and joining her.

"You can say that." She toasted her glass with her brother's.

"What happened, sis?"

"Mark Robsman, the owner of Quidditch World will choose one of the trainees to become the magazine's official writer." She paused for another sip and Ron waited until she continued. "We should interview someone for the next week and the best report wins. And of course, stupid Jack Rogers' uncle is Richard Rogers, one of the greatest keepers of all time so he'll probably win.”

Ginny finished her speech and bravely hid the tears that were insisting to drop, Ron heard something like "fuck this" in a low voice before Ginny ordered another dose of firewhiskey. He waited until she had taken a little sip before he spoke.

"You could interview Harry." He looked at his sister, waiting for a reaction. A few seconds later, Ginny began to laugh.

"Harry? Harry Potter?"

"Do you know another Harry?" Ron asked wryly, raising an eyebrow to emphasize the question. "He would do it for you, you know, right?" Ron was serious now. "You could talk to him tomorrow at the party at the Ministry."

"Yeah, right."

It was never easy for Ginny to talk about Harry Potter. Speaking of bad timing... Ginny had been in love with Harry since childhood, somewhere in her subconscious she believed she had been born already in love with Harry Potter.

Until finally she got over him, Ginny even dated other people in her school time and they ended up becoming great friends. The friendship came easily, in between so many conversations under the tree at the Burrow, while Ron and Hermione bickered for the thousandth time in less than fifteen minutes, and every time they came back from the Quidditch training side by side while they laughed at something no one else could understand.

To this day Ginny didn’t know if it was the remnant of his crush for him that made her see things that didn’t exist, but she could swear that Harry felt something for her more than friendship too. Thinking back then, back to her fifth year at Hogwarts, even when she was dating Dean at the time, the most consistent thing of that year was Harry. Harry laughing with her in the common room, Harry helping her to study, Harry, Harry and Harry. Pathetic, she knew that very well.

Ginny remembered that she used to think it was only a matter of time before she and Harry finally got together, but then Dumbledore died, the war reached its peak and Harry, Ron and Hermione had to leave and nothing was ever the same. After the war there never seemed to be the right time to talk to Harry about this, something so unimportant near so many lives they lost. Remus, Tonks, Fred... The list was vast.

Soon Ginny was back for her last year and Harry was busier than ever in an attempt to rebuild the wizarding world. The big surprise came later, in the second year after the war, everyone thought Harry would become an Auror as he always wanted, but then he decided to become a professional Quidditch player, and that’s what he has done ever since.

Harry didn’t usually give interviews, in fact, he had never given a single one since he joined Puddlemere United. His intention was clearly to not to attract more attention to himself, something that everyone around him knew that Harry hated, but Ginny didn’t know if this was a good strategic because the more he denied, the more curious the journalists got, and that was why Ginny didn’t want to ask him to do that interview.

That and the fact that they hardly talked with each other in the last few years, they moved on with their lives, new priorities were occurring — of course they still saw each other on Sundays when the family got together for lunch or when Ron and Hermione tried (not so) subtly create opportunities for them to get together — but the contact was almost minimal.

"I'm so drunk, don’t tell my mom. She doesn’t know that I drink. Shhh." Ginny made the silence sign with her finger to her brother who laughed desperately.

"I'm not going to tell your mom, but I'm going to tell mine."

"Nooo!" She growled. "If you tell your mom, my mom will know because they are the same person." Ginny approached Ron to speak the last sentence in a conspiratorial low tone like it was some big secret and laid her head on his shoulder. "I'll close my eyes quickly, for one second only."

When Ginny opened her eyes again, the sun was already shining brightly in the sky, she was in her own bed in the small flat where she lived alone, and her head hurt like hell. Thank Merlin a hangover potion was in the headboard next to her together with a note: 'Drink it as soon as you wake up and talk to Harry. Love, Hermione.'

Of course, her brother, the prat, would tell his fiancée everything at the first opportunity he had and of course Hermione would get involved in her life - and Ginny loved them immensely for it

Read the rest of this chapter and the next one on ao3

[anxiouslynumbme]

Last Hope

Hi! I’m new and I’m writing this thing, if you want to check it out.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. OBVIOUSLY.

A few things:

* Ginny and Harry never got together in this story. But, they are very close friends.

* This story contains mature and explicit content. Such as: Cursing, Violence, Explicit Sexual Situations, Suicide, Rape, sexual harassment/assault, etc.

* There will be Original Characters.

* This story is also available on FFN and AO3.

**DO NOT COPY OR USE MY STORY IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM.**

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Summary: It was hard for Ginny Weasley to find hope in the aftermath of the Battle Of Hogwarts.

                                             Chapter 1

Ginny Weasley was standing over a Death Eater's corpse. At some point during the battle she has lost count of how many lives she took, a part of her didn't care and she couldn't really deal with the other part; the part that wanted to throw up and cry in a corner somewhere. She's been keeping everything in check for over a year, not feeling anything, trying to survive, making sure that her friends stayed alive and trying to keep Hogwarts from burning to the ground.

Glancing up from the dead body she could see her best friend Neville in the distance fighting two of them, barely hanging on trying to duck and fire spells at both of them. She knew he could handle it, they made sure of it. They've been training, they were all ready but Ginny couldn't help but worry because Neville didn't want to cross the line. He didn't want to kill any of them, he believed they were misled. There's been arguments among the DA about the right and wrong of it all. And Ginny just wanted to save her loved ones no matter what she had to do.

She closed her eyes briefly. Fred. She couldn't save him, she felt suffocating sadness trying to overwhelm her but she had to push it down, she couldn't stop and process anything that was happening; she had to be all action and logic. She couldn't take a moment to think about the fact that she'd just seen Ron for the first time in a year and their reunion included witnessing their brother's death. They both knew they couldn't sit, cry, and deal with the trauma; they had to keep going. That was the hardest part; wanting to give up, wanting to just lie down and die but not being able to because people depended on you, because you had to be strong even though nothing seemed to matter anymore. And it was really messed up that all she wanted was to immediately hug Ron and thank the heavens he was okay but instead they had to watch their brother take his last breath. Ginny felt panic beginning to settle in again as she though of Fred, she knew she was about to lose herself in a dark bottomless pit if she didn't control her thoughts and emotions, she had to set everything aside once again, she had to keep fighting; she had to make sure his death meant something.

Behind the wall next to Neville she spotted a Death Eater sneaking up on him ready to fire a curse. Her body sprung into action as she sprinted towards him, jumping over bodies and leaping over bricks as she raised her wand with perfect aim.

"Reducto!"

The Death Eater went flying back from the force of the spell, a hole appearing in his chest where his heart used to be. Neville turned around at her voice, sweat dripping down his face. They nodded at each other once she reached him as they both started to fight the Death Eaters in front of them.

"Ginny! Neville!" They were both too busy fighting the two scumbags to turn towards Luna's voice, but Ginny knew something was wrong. Luna rarely, if ever, raised her voice. She let out a grunt in frustration as she fought; until finally disarming him and quickly using a stunning spell before turning to Luna she was covered in blood the color mixing morbidly with her dirty blonde hair.

"What is it?"

She could see Neville was still fighting his guy from her peripheral vision.

"I tried to stop them...but they got them- two second years! I was supposed to protect them...I tried Ginny."

Shit. Knowing that Neville finally dealt with the Death Eater, she grabbed both his arm and Luna's and dragged them running until they crouched behind a big brick that has fallen from one of the towers.

"Who took them?" Ginny immediately asked.

"I don't know. They were wearing masks."

"What are we going to do? We can't leave in the middle of battle." Neville said looking at her, waiting for her agreement.

He was right. They were under their protection, but Ginny had to be logical here. They were most likely dead and it wasn't like the first time they had lost kids. People needed them here, it was war and their place was in the middle of it. For a minute Ginny couldn't believe her thoughts, she was knowingly giving up on two kids. She knew they were in danger and they might already be dead or they were trying to recruit them, she knew it wasn't the right thing to do. But it was the tactical and tough decision that she had to make.

"They're probably dead."

"Ginny!" Luna protested instantly. "I know it's not the smartest decision to look for them, but I was in charge of them Gin. I can't just-" She paused, voice breaking, before she looked her in the eyes. "I'll look for them. With or without you."

Damn it, Luna. She thought to herself.

"Do you know where they took them?"

"Before I passed out, I saw them making their way to the Forbidden Forest." Her eyes suddenly glazed over and Ginny knew she was having one of her visions, or senses as she sometimes referred to them.

A figure suddenly dropped down next to them, it was Padma and she looked at them in panic.

"I can't find Parvati!" She cried. "I don't know what happened, I was fighting right next to her, and I turned around and she...oh god I-"

"Hey hey, Padma, take a breath." Neville raised a palm to her shoulder calmly. "We'll find her, okay? Just try and breathe."

Padma tried to nod but she was visibly shaking.

"Okay...right. She's fine. We'll find her." It really felt as if she was trying to convince herself, but in that moment it was as if they all had the same thought, shared the same feeling. It was that gut feeling that you get that told you something was wrong, someone was dead. And with that, Ginny has made a decision.

"Alright, Neville, you go with Padma and try to keep track of all DA members." She turned to Luna. "You're with me."

Padma sniffled. "Where are you going?"

"To look for two second years, they were taken."

"That's terrible, but Ginny, we need you here. Everyone needs to be here right now." Padma said, her shaking lessened slightly.

"Yeah, Ginny, I really hate to say this, but are we sure this is the best plan?"

"I can't let Luna go alone...and she's right. They are our responsibility." She hated how jaded they all became. They saw so many kids tortured and killed that it was in debate right then whether it was smart to leave and save them or not. Ginny felt so sick that for a second she thought she was actually going to throw up. They had to find them and they had to be alive. They just had to.

"Hell, I know- I know. Alright, I'm going with you then."

"No, you're not, the three of us can't go, you're needed here and Padma needs you-"

"I'll be fine." She interrupted with a shaking breath.

"Oh god, Ginny, I feel them. "Luna breathed from beside her, her eyes have gone so cloudy they were almost just white."No no no, they're in so much pain. We have to go now!" Luna raised a hand to her mouth trying to silent her sob as she finally came back to herself, eyes natural grey again.

"Okay, " Ginny looked quickly to Neville and Padma putting a hand on each of their shoulders. "Just stick together and we'll be back as soon as we can."

They all stood up and eyed each other in worry, it was not goodbye; they would meet again, they've been through way too much not to.

Neville stepped towards Ginny and Luna and threw his arms around them, holding them tight. "Be careful, please."

"You too." Luna mumbled.

"Uh...Nev, you should probably let go now." Ginny told him after a moment only half teasing, she didn't necessarily want to end the hug, but they were literally surrounded by chaos and people falling to their death. Ginny still made sure to smile at him when he finally pulled back.

She turned to Padma."I hope you find your sister."

"Me too. I will." She uttered with conviction.

"Be safe, alright?" They both nodded their heads in answer.

And with that Ginny and Luna took off, leaving Hogwarts grounds and marching straight into the Forbidden Forest.

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Ginny and Luna were trying to to be as quiet as they can, they had to be stealthy, fast, and silent. Luna was leading the way based on what she was sensing and Ginny was trying to form a plan-any kind of plan that she can put into action once they find them. If they find them. They had to take their time and be strategic about whatever situation they might be walking into.

Ginny's steps came to a halt as she raised an arm to stop Luna in her tracks. She heard something just then or maybe she felt it.

"Did you hear that?"

"No, what do you hear?"

"Let's hope I'm just being paranoid." She answered as they started to walk again.

But Ginny knew she wasn't being paranoid. She felt something and then a wave of realization hit her. Voldemort was here. She could feel him. Ever since the diary she always had these moments as if she could feel him watching her, or sense that he was near. And right then it was stronger than ever. And if Voldemort were there, she wondered if Harry were too, Ginny felt a sharp pang of fear and dread for him that she had to quickly push deep down to focus on the mission. Even though she wasn't sure, she wanted to tell Luna to stop and go back and let her find the second years. Ginny wanted to stay so she could face Voldemort, finally confront him and help Harry defeat him, but she knew Luna wouldn't leave her.

"It's that way." Luna suddenly whispered, her voice so soft and airy, Ginny knew she was lost in her own mind, she didn't have to see her eyes to know they have probably gone white.

As they approached the area Luna pointed out, Ginny could hear voices laughing and then a second later there were screams. They were crying out in pain and Ginny felt her stomach hurt as she and Luna sped up until they were close enough to hide behind a tree and observe the scene.

Ginny quickly evaluated the situation. Only two Death Eaters, thankfully. Then her eyes zoned in on the two kids tied against the tree and she recognized them immediately. Isaac and Allison. When she looked them over, it felt as if all air left her body. Aside from the tears and sheer pain on their faces. Their clothes were ripped. Oh god no no no not that. Her mind was screaming at her to just run in and get them, her body was dying to go in for the kill; but they had to wait and assess their next course of action.

Before Ginny could turn around to Luna, a child emerged suddenly from behind one of the Death Eaters. She couldn't have been more than twelve and while she had the body of child, she didn't carry herself like one. She couldn't believe that these two pieces of shit let that kid watch. Ginny tried to take a better look As the little girl walked closer and she could somewhat see her face and eyes; they were calm, no fear whatsoever. She looked almost demonic.

"Well, that was a waste of my time." The girl looked at the two men with boredom. "Now that you've had your fun. Please go away, so I can enjoy killing them in peace."

Luna let out a small gasp from beside her, Ginny's eyes were wide in shock. She felt Luna take a step forward before she grabbed her and pulled her back with a shake of her head that told her they needed to think first. She knew that Voldemort and Death Eaters were recruiting kids, but she had never actually seen one. The two men looked at the child with respect, almost fear.

"You can, of course, have the kill, " One of them responded. "But we have orders to never leave your side, Akkila."

Akkila. Akkila Carrow. Ginny and Luna shared a look, of course they've heard of her and how ruthless she was but the rumours never mentioned she was a bloody twelve year old. Nobody knew why she never joined the Carrows at Hogwarts.

"I don't care what orders you've been given. When I tell you to leave. You leave." Her voice was ice cold and Ginny felt a shiver run through her.

"Okay so, you'll take the one on the right and I'll take the left." She whispered to Luna.

"And Akkila?"

"Stunning spells only." She didn't want to think about how awful and sinister that little girl was. They weren't going to kill her.

"Oh, Ginny."Luna sighed and when Ginny looked at her, her eyes were cloudy yet again.

"What is it?"

"I don't think this going to end well."

Damn it, Luna.

"Did you...see or feel something?"

Her gaze shot up to Ginny's. "It doesn't matter. We don't have a choice." Her voice was small and sad.

She didn't have time to dissect that statement.

"How dare you disobey me?"

Ginny and Luna turned back to watch Akkila raise her wand and with no hesitation she fired the Killing Curse.

She could see that Akkila was too far gone. And Ginny wasn't surprised given who she was and how she was raised, but that didn't stop the disgust and disbelief at the sight in front of her. There was only Akkila and one Death Eater left, getting rid of them was going to be easy.

"Gin."

"Yeah?"

"Remember what I told you."

Really, Luna? Ginny thought. You expect me to remember everything you've ever told me?

"You have to give me more than that, L."

"You'll know."

Giving her a confused look. "I don't think we have time for riddles."

"We were in the library."

"Bloody hell! Which time!?" She whisper-shouted.

Luna looked at her then, something about her eyes made Ginny pause as she felt Luna's hand on her shoulder. "You know."

And it was as if she transferred the exact memory into Ginny's mind. She remembered exactly which time she was talking about. They had been sitting in the Library late one night studying; but Luna had felt bad all day even if she were trying not to show it. Some students had been calling her names and they were in the middle of pulling a very cruel prank, when Ginny had intervened for the third time that week. Ginny had stayed with her after it happened and had tried everything to cheer her up. She had cracked jokes and had told her a few hilarious Fred and George stories; but nothing'd worked. So Ginny had decided to just sit with her in silence, until she had suddenly spoken up.

"You're the best friend anybody could ever ask for, Ginny Weasley." She had stated staring out of the Library's window.

Ginny smiled. "Aw! You're a pretty great friend too, L."

Luna looked at her with a grin. "Oh! L ...I like that."

Ginny smiled softly at the memory, but looked at Luna in confusion. "Why that memory?"

It was a stupid question, deep down Ginny knew why. But there was no way she was going to let whatever was about to happen to actually happen.

"You're my best friend, Ginny."

"Luna-"

But she didn't get to finish. Luna sat up and looked down at her. "It's time."

Ginny nodded, standing up as well, making sure that all her daggers were in place and slowly they walked around the tree they were hiding behind. Without warning, Luna charged for Akkila aiming her wand.

"Stupefy!"

Ginny didn't wait to see if it hit the target, she ran towards the other Death Eater.

He deflected her attempt trying to stun him and fired back his own. She could hear Luna and Akkila sparring beside her. Curses were being fired in every direction.

"Expelliarmus!" He yelled, smirking at her because he knew she didn't expect him to use that spell. Ginny groaned in frustration when it hit her and she felt her wand flying out of her hand.

Acting quickly not waiting for her wand to reach him, she ran forward, her body slid across the ground once she was close enough she kicked her leg hard against his shin; successfully tripping him, his wand falling from his hand. Both of their wands were on the ground, Ginny immediately went for her wand, throwing her body towards it but he grabbed her ankle and dragged her back before flipping her around.

"Bitch!"

"Right back at ya." She growled, pulling her knee up and kicking him right in the balls. He glowered in pain, instantly releasing her.

Pushing him back, she moved to stand and he readily followed. Both leaving their wands behind, Ginny took a quick second to glance at Luna, she didn't need any help she was gracefully ducking and dodging as she shot a spell after spell at Akkila. She checked the two second years still tied to the tree and unconscious.

Pulling her attention back to her enemy, he was grinning before he advanced on her with a punch, she ducked, moving a step to the side twirling around until she was behind him. She raised her right knee and as hard as she could kicked him in the spine, he yelled out; dropping to his knees. Ginny quickly grabbed his hair and pulled; with her other hand extracted the dagger she kept on her right hip, lifting her arm back; she swung it back down around to his neck and slit his throat. Blood splattered onto her hand and the ground. She let his body go and it hit the ground with a thump.

"Ah!"

She turned around to see her friend tied to a huge tree the branches and roots wrapping themselves around her body tightly.

Ginny silently searched around for her wand, but sadly she wasn't that lucky. Akkila's head whipped around in her direction smiling maniacally.

"Oh no. You killed one of my own." She said monotonously. "I'll have to kill you now...well, I was going to kill you anyway."

Ginny has spotted her wand and as discreetly as possible she made a step towards it. But it was too late, Akkila's snake eyes caught it.

"Accio Wand!"

Both her wand and the dead Death Eater's flew right into her tiny hands.

"Look at that! I've got all of your wands." She pouted mockingly. "And I'm a twelve year old. This is embarrassing."

She pocketed two of the wands, leaving two; one in each hand.

"Listen, you don't want to do this, please." Ginny tried feebly; she knew it was no use but she didn't want to hurt her.

"But I do."

"You're very young and confused, it's not your fault...you just need help."

Akkila stared at Ginny incredulously. "Are you being serious? I'm about to kill both of you and this is your argument?"

"Listen, there's hope for you, you don't have to be like your family. You have a choice."

"Don't talk about my family." She snarled. "Don't talk to me like you know me."

"You're right, I don't. But I do know what it is like to feel like you can't control your life, to be used as just a pawn in someone else's plans."

"Oh, do you now?"

"Different circumstances, but yes. I bet everything's been decided for you since you came into this world; you never had a choice. But you have one now. You can make the right one."

Akkila laughed, the sound sadistic and unnatural. "You're funny, Weasley."

Ginny's shock must have shown on her face.

"Why are you so surprised? Of course I know who you are; after all we were counting on you trying to find these weaklings." She tilted her head in Allison and Isaac's direction.

"You're deeply despised in my world. Your entire family, actually, is on my list of people I want to kill before the end of the night."

She went too far.

"Careful." Ginny's voice was deadly calm, but the warning was more than clear in her tone.

"Ooh, I'm so scared." She lifted her head to the sky. "Help me, Almighty God! Ginny Weasley; the girl who couldn't fight a diary is threatening me."

Ginny's heart was beating wildly in her chest, she was about to lose her temper. She didn't want to think about how that little brat acquired this information, she didn't want to think about Death Eaters having information on her and her family. She wanted to focus on her anger.

"You should be scared." Luna spoke suddenly, her voice cutting through the tension in the air.

Akkila's eyes never left Ginny as she responded to Luna." You know, I have no idea why you're still alive, Freak."

"Don't call her that."

"I'll do far more than just call her a Freak." She replied with a scoff, talking to Ginny as she took a step closer in Luna's direction, one of the wand pointed at her."I was going to make you kill her yourself, but I know for a fact that you know how to resist the Imperius curse. So...I'll just settle for you watching me have all the fun!"

"Crucio!"

Luna's screams instantly pierced their ears.

"Stop!"

But before Ginny could move the curse was flipped on her, she immediately fell writhing on the ground in excruciating pain; she's been through this enough times but it never got easier, nothing could ever prepare you for a pain that you can feel in every single bone in your body as if they were all breaking at the same time over and over again. It was as if somebody setting you on fire from the inside. Everything just burned. While she couldn't get used to it, Ginny has learned to try and push through it; she whimpered trying to move her head.

"Please stop, don't...make me." She couldn't even hear her own voice through her sharp gasps, her lungs letting out a scream.

She couldn't think, she tried to move her body but she couldn't muster enough energy, the pain was blinding.

"Sadly, I'm not even sure if you can hear me right now, but I'm going to kill your friend."

Somehow Ginny got herself to look up, grunting loudly. Through her blurred vision, she could make out Akkila raising the other wand towards Luna; even though she couldn't focus on her, she could tell she was looking at her, trying to tell her it was okay.

Ginny wasn't going to lose anyone else, losing her brother and best friend on the same day was just not an option. There had to be a way, through her agony she prayed for a miracle, she prayed for a sliver of strength to get her to move.

Akkila's wand was at the ready.

Ginny was fighting her body, pushing through the pain and achingly slow tried to reach for her dagger.

Akkila was smiling at Luna in triumph.

"Ple-please don't!"

Ginny was groaning and grunting trying to cling onto the dagger once she was able to hold it.

"Avada-"

"NO!" She shrieked, swinging her arm back before throwing the dagger at Akkila with all the power she has left.

The pain suddenly stopped and Ginny gasped in relief, breathing harshly, she blinked, there were dots swimming in her vision, her heart was beating way too fast; it felt like she was about to pass out and maybe she did because a while later she began to feel her surroundings again.

"Ginny."

She tiredly lifted her head at her friend's voice; who was now kneeling beside her and sighed in relief. She was alive. The tree must have let her go after Akkila stopped.

"Wa - wait, is she...?"

Luna didn't meet her eyes. "Yes."

She tried to stand up, but her legs gave out from under her.

"Ginny, you need a minute, you were under the Cruciatus for a while."

"Help me to her."

She threw her arm around Luna's shoulder; while Luna wrapped hers around Ginny's waist. Together they stumbled their way over till they reached her body. She was scared to look down, she didn't want to see it, but she couldn't help it; she had to see for herself. Her eyes finally moved to the body, the dagger has struck her on the forehead; her eyes were staring up unseeing. She was dead.

She has just killed a kid.

She let go of Luna, moving quickly to a nearby tree and emptying her stomach. She didn't know how long she sat by the tree vomiting; she couldn't process what just happened, it was like remembering a memory that you didn't live. I had no choice. She kept repeating the words in her mind, hoping the words would calm her somehow, but she knew nothing would've helped her. I had no choice. Breathe breathe breathe. She couldn't even focus on the fact that her body was weeping in pain. She was mentally and physically drained. Breathe breathe breathe.

"Ginny."

She directed her gaze in the voice's direction, it was Allison and beside her stood Isaac and Luna. They were okay, they were alive. Focus on that, She thought to herself.

Her mind has slowly started to clear, she took a deep breath, before sluggishly standing up. "We need to go back."

They all quietly agreed; making their way through the Forest. She appreciated the silence but it was too dark, she wished they could use Lumos but they couldn't risk someone seeing them.

That was when she felt it again. Voldemort.

As they kept walking, it intensified, she wondered why Luna didn't say anything. Did she even sense anything. Or was it just Ginny because she was connected to Voldemort somehow. Peering ahead she thought she saw a few figures in the distance; the shapes got clearer as they got closer.

"Do you guys see that?" Isaac asked from behind her.

But Ginny didn't respond, because the one thing that was flashing in her mind was that one of the figures was Harry, she was sure of it; with her heart in her throat she started walking faster, leaving the others behind.

"Ginny!" Luna tried to keep her voice low."Don't. Ginny!"

But she didn't stop, she started running forward, her mind racing until she could finally view the scene clearly. Her heart dropped as her eyes fell on Harry for the first time in over a year. His back was to her, facing Voldemort and his little minions; they were both just staring at each other. She felt Luna come up behind her and was aware enough to know that she has cast a Muffliato Charm around them. What is Harry doing? She thought. What is happening?

And then her world crumbled.

She felt her her heart stop beating. It happened so fast - too fast.

"Avada Kedavra!"

She felt her mouth react before her mind could register as she wailed in agonizing devastation, the sound filling the space around them. Ginny felt a heavy weight crushing down her heart and squeezing it in a death grip as pure panic rose so sudden and fast, consuming every fiber of her body, paralyzing her as everything within her soul prayed for death, because she knew it would be a relief from this crippling pain that was washing over her, making her choke on her breath, struggling to breathe through the overwhelming tightness in her chest.

And then her body jumped into action with vengeance as she stepped forward but before she could take one step, Luna's arm caught her around the waist, pulling her back and holding her tight in place, as she put a hand on her mouth to silence her.

"Ginny, please, I was never that good at Muffliato. They might hear us."

Ginny was struggling so hard against Luna that she feared she might hurt her. She didn't know her friend was that strong, Luna never really liked to get overly physical with her training.

"Ginny, we are massively outnumbered. There's nothing you can do."

She managed to rip Luna's hand away, growling. "Let me go! I don't want to hurt you!"

She heard her gasp. "Oh wait. I can still sense his Aura."

Ginny wasn't in the right mind to digest the words. The only thing on her mind was getting to Voldemort and avenging Harry's death. Fred's. Avenging everyone's death.

With a grunt she elbowed Luna hard in the guts, hearing her yelp in pain and falling to the ground. Ginny didn't look back; she held her wand with determination. As she started moving towards her target, she heard Luna's voice from behind her.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Ginny's entire body stiffened, as the Spell worked its way over her limbs, incapable of moving, she felt her body falling backwards two arms catching her around the waist, trying to hold her up.

"I'm sorry, Ginny."

Her wide eyes looked onward to the scene that would be imprinted in her memory forever. Harry's dead body on the ground.

Harry. The person that before a year ago was one of her best friends. She thought at some point that they were each other's closest friend, until one day he had disappeared with Ron and Hermione; and she felt betrayed and she was so mad at him, especially because she knew what he was doing, even if she didn't know the details at first, it wasn't difficult to guess what they were doing. But none of that mattered then, they ran out of time. They were never going to fight about it. She was never going to see him again, was never going to make him laugh or smile. She was never going to hear his voice again.

Her frozen eyes observed Hagrid; whom she didn't even notice was there, pick Harry's body off the ground and into his arms. She felt Luna slowly trying to move back so she can rest Ginny's body on the ground.

She felt tears silently stream down her face as she caught a final glimpse of Harry; before her eyes were gazing up at the night sky.

[ladyknightleyisundercover]

Valentine

I had meant to write this for @harryginnyvcontest​ but I didn’t get it finished in time. Anyway, happy Valentine’s Day! [AO3]

With Harry away on an Auror mission, Ginny hadn’t expected much from her Valentine’s Day. Then, on the evening of the 13th, he’d arrived back home, not only early, but also unhurt and having done such a good job that Robards had awarded him a forty-eight hour furlough. And suddenly, it was the best Valentine’s Day—Valentine’s weekend—ever. The two of them had barely left their bed since—indeed, Ginny probably would still be there, had a very persistent owl not started tapping at their bedroom window.

Harry makes several rude comments about whoever had the audacity to write to her, before she holds up the envelope, which has their address in his handwriting. She raises an eyebrow, grinning, and he blushes slightly as she climbs back into bed.

“It’s a Valentine’s Day card,” he says, before she can open the envelope. “I, uh...” he coughs, then blushes again. “I assumed I wouldn’t be back in time for Valentines Day, I took your card to the post office before I left, with instructions for them to hold it temporarily, then owl it so that it would get here today. Just in case the mission wasn’t over.”

“Harry Potter,” Ginny says, leaning over to kiss him as she pulls the card out. “You are the sweetest, most thoughtful...oh.”

“Oh?”

She pauses, then grins. “Is this some sort of joke about how we’ve been together so long we don’t need to do proper Valentine’s anymore?”

“What do you mean?” asks Harry, confused. He’s even more confused when, rather than a card, Ginny holds up a sheaf of papers.

“When you did a dozen red roses last year, and a box of chocolates the year before that, it’s clear there’s only one solution for this year’s Valentine’s gift: a copy of the Ministry of Magic’s biannual report into the security status of Hogwarts,” she jokes. Then she registers the fact that Harry has turned pale. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

He turns to her. “Sooo…” he says, “you know how I said I took your card to the post office in advance, for them to owl to you on the fourteenth?”

“Yeaaah?”

“I’d just finished writing up the security report for the school and got Robards to sign off on it, so I took that, too. But I’d run out of envelopes, so I had to buy two at the post office. I was addressing them up—one to you, one to the school—but I got distracted. There was this little girl, and she wanted an autograph, she was very sweet, not like some people, you know, so I felt I had to, but then the bell went to say they were nearly closing, and then—”

“Harry, breathe,” Ginny says, laughing gently. “It’s okay, there’s just been a mix up, that’s all. It’s not the end of the world. I was only kidding about feeling unloved.”

“Ginny, you got the security report, which was supposed to go to Professor McGonagall,” he said, looking at her in horror. “So she got...”

“...my Valentine’s card,” Ginny says, lips twitching. “Oh, Merlin. Please tell me it didn’t include lacy underwear. Or, ooh, you remember when I went to Hermione’s cousin’s hen do? They had these absolutely amazing chocolate—”

“Worse,” says Harry, looking mortified.

“How?!”

“...I wrote you a poem.”

[anxiouslynumbme]

hinny

hinny fic

[runningtwiceasfast]

This is adorable

Hinny professor/student au?😘

A/N: lets see what you think 😏

“I have another class.”

He hears her step closer, trainers a low squeak on the marble floor. “I know.”

Harry refuses to turn from his needless pper shuffling. “I do keep office hours.”

Professional. Professional. Professional.

There’s a laugh in her voice when she says again, “I know.”

“So I can see you then regarding whatever question you have.”

“My first question is whether you’re physically incapable of turning to face me.”

He can’t help the chuckle that leaves his throat. “More like emotionally.”

Now she lets out a long sigh, they’ve discussed and discussed and it’s one of the few things they can’t seem to agree on. Or at least understand one another. “Harry - ”

He grunts.

“Really?” Another sigh “Fine, Auror Potter - I know you’re my instructor.”

Harry hums in agreement. Only flinches slightly when her hand finds the crook of his elbow.

He can’t help but comply when she guides him to face her. He can also hear students milling in the corridor.

Ginny squares her shoulders and gives him that blazing look like she’s going to snog him or whip out her wand. “I know you’re my instructor but you’re also my bloody husband and I think we’re allowed to acknowledge that.”

“But Kingsley said- ”

“Kingsley can shove it,” Ginny shoots back, “Now give me a kiss. I’m off to practice.”

“Remember the protective- ”

She leans in and presses a kiss to his lips. “See you later sir.”

[runningtwiceasfast]

Beautiful!

A/N: Evening babes! I’ve had an extremely normal day and to cope with that I’ve decided to sift through some more of those Hinny ficlets I usually only write for my own entertainment and polish up another one, so. You get another little guy taking place in the summer of 1998, and I get some distraction. And ideally some ibuprofen. Featuring nosy brothers and precisely one bed (purposefully).

Translations

Of course, the instant they finally decide to move Harry’s camp bed from Ron’s room to Ginny’s, half the Weasley family finds themselves in their path down the various wonky staircases and narrow hallways inside the Burrow, gawking like there’s no tomorrow.

“Not a word”, Ginny tells them, while Harry’s eyes remain purposefully fixated on the task at hand, the camp bed floating in mid-air at the bidding of their combined Hovering Charms. “I’ll hex your toes off one by one.”

She’s answered with much snorting and giggling from several of her brothers, while Ron stands in his doorframe and watches them with an expression that unfailingly calls to mind Molly, watching the train depart Platform 9 ¾.

By the time they’ve made it to Ginny’s room, her brothers have pulled so many audacious jokes out of their arses she doesn’t think the colour of Harry’s face is ever going to return to normal again. Then it’s only her parents, whose half-hearted protest about a boy – a boy! – staying in her room falters when Ginny points out that this isn’t any boy, thank you very much, this is Harry (“You know Harry! You love Harry!”), who they personally talked into into staying at the Burrow for as long as he pleased only a few weeks ago.

When Molly finally lets her bedroom door fall into its lock at bedtime – a miracle in its own right – Ginny has threatened every single one of her brothers with the loss of some sort of limb, except Ron; and she did cost Ron his roommate, so maybe that makes them even.

Lying there in the dark of her bedroom, listening to her mother’s receding footsteps on the other side of the door, Ginny allows for five whole seconds of prudence before she folds back her quilt and grins brightly in Harry’s direction.

“She’ll kill us”, he mutters, but pushes himself up from his camp bed and climbs onto Ginny’s mattress all the same, like he reckons that’s a price he’s willing to pay.

Ginny snorts.

“This is new”, she says as they’re settling in, their limbs rearranging themselves under her quilt. “No one else has ever slept in my bed before.”

“You can always kick me out again.”

She makes a show of taking this into serious consideration.

“No, I don’t think I will”, she grins. “You’re a nice enough pillow.”

As though to demonstrate this, she scoots closer, her arm draped loosely over his stomach, her cheek pressed to his chest, Harry’s heartbeat steady through his t-shirt.

Her bed is kind of comically small for two grown people. And what luck that is, she thinks, feeling his arm around her shoulders.

“You fit nicely”, she says, wholly unprompted.

You fit nicely, which is to say, you fit almost like you used to. Thank fuck you still fit like you used to.

Then: “You’re warm.”

You’re warm, which is to say, you are alive. You are alive and I can feel the heartbeat that proves it, steady and dependable through your t-shirt.

“Sorry if I wake you up”, he mutters, his voice not quite revealing if all that quiet weight in Ginny’s words made it through to him, the way they’re tip-toeing through the dark. “Won’t be on purpose.”

Her brows knit themselves together. “No, you should.”

When he makes noises of protest, she only doubles down. “Really, if you can’t sleep, just give me a good shake. I won’t mind”, she adds after a pause.

I won’t mind, which is to say, you don’t have to do it all alone. Don’t do it alone.

Harry eventually relents, albeit huffing slightly.

“I apologise if I end up hogging the blanket”, Ginny offers, and he vibrates with quiet laughter. She feels it more than she hears it, the way it rumbles through him. “Or if I wake you, for that matter.”

“You’re a blanket hogger?”

“Only one way to find out.”

She feels his hand squeeze her shoulder and has just about enough time to start wondering if the weight of her head is hindering the blood circulation in his arm when he says: “Have all the blanket you want.”

While he speaks, she listens for an undercurrent, something small and sincere tucked away in more unassuming words, like maybe she’ll be able to translate it all back if she pays close enough attention. Maybe he’s trying to say as much as she is. Maybe not.

Either way, she understands.

[runningtwiceasfast]

Jily lives is maybe my favorite AU. I want everything in this universe...everything. This is so good

Hi please start writing hinny getting together au's again i love your writing so much

A/N: mmmm maybe you will like this? I'm planning to do a casual series of one shots fresh pickled toad style except AU! Hinny isn't together here yet but it'll get there yes?

My favorite line in this fic is a direct quote of @inakindofdaydream

FF and Ao3

---

“So what do you and Ginny talk about?”

James shoots Harry a sidelong glance that goes unnoticed and smiles. Apparently Aurors aren’t necessarily perceptive in all areas of life. Or gifted in translating investigative techniques to familial scenarios.

“Not much,” James finally answers, light and breezy. “Quidditch, family, how you fancy her to the moon and back.”

“Shit!” Harry’s rhythmic chops end with a fumbled thunk against the cutting-board.

Perhaps teasing should be saved for times when his son isn’t wielding a 7-inch blade.

Harry’s already grabbed a nearby tea towel and wrapped it around his finger. “The hell Dad?”

“Give me your hand.”

“I think part of it is on the counter can you grab it?” Harry deadpans while James pulls at his wrist.

“Aurors used to be tougher in my day,” James teases with a grin. Though his eyes immediately focus in on Harry’s hand once it’s revealed, healing spells on his lips to cleanse and knit the skin back together.

“You mean Mum’s day?” Harry shoots back. “Mr May.”

“I played quidditch,” James corrects with a sigh.

“Played quidditch and did topless calendar photoshoots,” Harry says, wriggling his newly healed fingers.

“One calendar - and I was in uniform,” James adds, “Mostly.”

“I’ve seen the photo. Half in uniform at best.”

“Well I had to get your Mum’s attention somehow,” James says as he begins heating the wok.

Harry lets out a long sigh as he pushes up onto the countertop, heels thudding against the cabinet doors. “I’m not much for photoshoots.”

“But you do have the Potter physique that has been known to drive women to matrimony.”

“That is a lie,” Lily says, lingering in the doorway. “The bit about what it’s known to do anyway. You do look like quite your Dad.”

She steps into the kitchen and toward Harry, running her hand down his shoulder before grasping his hand. “Dad learned that little spell from me.”

“I do it better - the principles that make it work are more like transfiguration than charms. It’s really misclassed.”

Lily shares a glance with Harry and rolls her eyes. “Nerd.”

“Jealous,” James shoots back.

“Of what exactly?”

“Dunno,” James answers, tone light with faux thoughtfulness. “Maybe my O in Transfiguration 7th year?”

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response,” Lily mutters, snatching a few sliced carrots from the towering veggie pile.

She crunches down on a few and gives Harry a lingering look. “So what’s up?”

Harry and James’s responses are a conflicting cacophony, with the latter firmly in the ‘nothing’ camp.

James sets the veggies sizzling and gives them a preliminary toss. “We were talking about Ginny Weasley, contrary to what my son the liar says.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, is what I mean.”

“Lies.”

“I heard you held hands.”

Harry jolts. “From whom? I think I would remember that.”

“Fleur,” Lily answers easily, watching Harry. “At Dominique’s christening.”

“Wow,” Harry grumbles. “You all need a life.”

James scoffs. “More like you need some game.”

Lily stifles a laugh and shoves James’s shoulder. “Leave him be.”

“Besides,” Harry says, focusing intently on the hole wearing through the knee of his jeans, “We held hands for the prayer. That’s like - “

“Congrats,” James says with a grin, “You’ve made it to Shakespearean first base.”

“I - what?”

“Palm to palm is holy palmer’s kiss,” James quotes as he gives the veggies another toss.

Whatever follow up Harry might have formed dies when he spots the utterly nauseating look his mother is currently giving his father. “Really?”

She startles but doesn’t look the least bit guilty. “Yes?”

“That - gross.”

“Don’t be jealous your Dad wooed,” Lily says finally, patting Harry’s shoulder. “You may be older but he was a bloody mess. It took quite a bit of meddling.”

“Please don’t.”

James frowns. “I want grandbabies.”

[ghanjrho]

I thought this was cute. Then I got to the end.

Now it’s straight up adorable. Molly Weasly is the real captain of the good ship Hinny.

I’ve Never Not Wanted You

This is my contribution to the Hinny Ficfest organized by the wonderful @clarensjoy - Thank you for organizing and for the fantastic contributions. I haven’t published a fic in awhile and this one is very not proofread and rough but I wanted desperately to contribute something. I hope you don’t mind this one is under the wire! Eventually I will post a cleaned up version on AO3, but in the meantime I hope you enjoy!

Prompt: “I’ve never not wanted you”

“You have to come to dinner tonight. Mum has invited another suitor and we are all going to want to watch the bloodbath.” Ron’s mouth was full of curry, so it was hard to make out exactly what he meant, but the gist was an invite for dinner.

Harry scowled in response and pushed his food away from him, suddenly having lost his appetite.

“When will Molly stop? After Ginny has killed someone?”

Ron gave a barking laugh. “Maybe. It’s hard to stop a determined Weasley though.”

“So, who is more determined? Molly to marry Ginny off or Ginny to resist?” Harry wondered out loud, still staring at his noodles as if they had offended him.

Shrugging, Ron reached over and helped himself to Harry’s discarded lunch. “Mum just wants Ginny to be happy. Wizards marry pretty young in our world and everyone else has mostly coupled off,” Ron pointed his chopsticks at Harry. “Well, except you mate.”

Harry frowned.

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