Sorry if the timeline's a bit off- I don't know exactly when Harry and Ginny got married or had their first son. This is my first Harry/Ginny, as well, so I apologize for any disgust on your part on my portrayal.
Review, please! Reviewreviewreview from your fairytalemanipulator
Standard disclaimers apply, I don't own HP, blah blah blah.
Setting: Two years after the war.
Characters: Weasley clan, Hermione, Harry, etc
Summary: Oneshot. "This seems too much like a fairytale to be true."
Read and review, and enjoy!
"This seems too much like a fairytale to be true."
Ginny paused in pummeling the pillows on Harry's bed. Bloody things need to come with automatic plumpers. "Fairytale?"
"Yeah, you know…Cinderella, Rapunzel…" Harry squinted at her from behind his glasses, turning from the bathroom mirror and gazing out the bathroom door at his girlfriend.
Ginny furrowed her brow in concentration. "I remember Dad telling us about that, I reckon he read Muggle stuff on the job sometimes…wasn't Cinderella some sort of a romantic sap with no friends?"
A loud sigh came from the bathroom, as Harry's bespectacled face peeked out the door again, a toothbrush in his mouth. Removing it, he rolled his eyes at his girlfriend. "Do you understand what I mean, though? I mean, it's been two years since the war, the rogue Death Eaters are mostly rounded up, Hermione hasn't had a nightmare in weeks, Teddy is finally learning NOT to spit out everything Andromeda cooks, you found a job with Witch Weekly like you wanted…" Harry paused in bewilderment as Ginny marched towards him and slapped her hand on his forehead.
"Are you feeling alright, Harry? I thought George threw that Quaffle at you rather hard earlier, it was quite uncalled for, I worry about his aggression sometimes…"
Harry removed her hand from his forehead and put it over her mouth, albeit gently. "Gin, I'm fine, it's just…oh never mind."
Ginny smiled at him. "Oh you know I'm having fun. Tell me, please," she said, fluttering her eyes for added effect.
Harry grinned, sweeping her up in his arms and tossing her onto the bed as she squealed. He sat himself beside her, as she unconsciously reached out and began rubbing his back.
"Our lives seem so unreal, but here we are—I never thought this would actually happen. Of course, I realized quite a bit ago that destroying Voldemort would change the world; but I never actually thought that this could happen. That WE could be together. That WE could be happy. We've been through so much…and everyone we care about is here with us…well, almost everyone," he said, his face falling a bit as he recalled the faces that resided in his memory. Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Sirius…Dumbledore…
Brought back to reality by Ginny's soft touch on his back, he shook his head. "Not everything always goes right in fairytales, but somehow everything turns out all right. Think about it, Gin. We're living a fairytale. Our story is a fairytale, isn't it?"
Ginny winked at him, reaching her arms around his neck to give him a kiss on the cheek. "I always knew it would turn out right in this way," she said optimistically. "You simply couldn't survive without me!"
"Oh, is that right?" Harry growled, flipping himself over on the bed and tickling Ginny as she shrieked in hysterics. Neither noticed the footsteps coming to the door until it crashed open with resounding force, breaking apart the couple and sending Harry tumbling to the floor.
"Oh Ginny dear, your old room is all made up for you to stay in, although I do believe Teddy got into the closet a bit so you might not want to open that. Andromeda and Teddy will be sharing with you, pity we don't have more rooms," Mrs. Weasley said fondly, watching her daughter hurriedly straighten out her nightgown as Harry leapt up from the floor as if on fire, his glasses askew and cheeks burning.
"But Mum…"
"No ifs, ands, or buts about it! You may be ALMOST all grown up now"—Mrs. Weasley emphasized the "almost" with a piercing glare at her redheaded child-- "but think of what your brothers will do to Harry if they find out you stayed the night in his bedroom!"
Harry blanched at this thought, whipping his head around to his girlfriend, who shrugged.
"Why should I care what they think, Mum, I'm an adult now, and it's not as if Ron has room to talk what with visiting Hermione every night she works late at the Ministry and—"
Ginny's declarations were interrupted by a horrifying crash resounding throughout the Burrow, shaking the very foundation of the cozy home. Mrs. Weasley jumped up in the air with a cry and flew down the stairs, Ginny and Harry hot on her heels, followed by an exclaiming Hermione who, for the duration of their visit, was residing in the room next to Harry's.
"It came from the kitchen—"
"What was—"
"Better not be—"
The entirety of the Weasley clan gathered in the tiny kitchen, Fleur exclaiming in French, a sleepy Charlie mumbling and rubbing his eyes, George grinning at the sight he saw in front of the refrigerator—
"RONALD WEASLEY!"
Ron cowered under the hostility coming from Hermione and his mother at the same time, Hermione shaking in fury at seeing Mr. Weasley's leftover birthday cake and platter scattered all over the refrigerator door and kitchen floor.
"It just slipped out of my hands, 'Mione, I swear…"
"You told me you were going to get a DRINK OF WATER and then GO TO YOUR ROOM and GO TO SLEEP, you idiot, you KNOW you shouldn't eat so many sweets, think of your health!—"
"Your FATHER'S CAKE, Ronald! How shameful, did you not think that perhaps he had wanted to eat the rest of it as well?" Mrs. Weasley shook her finger at her youngest son, causing him to back further into the corner, blubbering apologies as he went.
"Oh come now, Molly, don't terrify the poor boy, we can fix it—" Mr. Weasley chimed in, looking highly amused.
"Yes, Ronald, we can fix it!" Hermione piped, her bushy hair partially covering her face. She removed her wand from her robe, reciting "Reparo!". The platter rose into the air and settled back in its usual place on the counter, fully formed once again. The cake, however, was another matter.
"Forgetting the rules, Ronald? I suppose it's natural, considering you rarely ever come home to visit anymore except for BIRTHDAYS and special occasions, correct?" Mrs. Weasley stated, causing a flush to creep up on Ron's cheeks. "No food after midnight, kitchen closed! Clean this up, no magic!"
By this time, most of the Weasleys had departed from the kitchen, seeing the amusement pass. Hermione harrumphed and stomped up the stairs to her room, muttering about blithering idiots and moronic boyfriends, while Harry and Ginny shared an entertained look. Ron meekly continued to apologize to his mother while she summoned a dishrag for him to mop up the mess with.
"Honestly, family occasions are so fun," Ginny said, giving Ron a cheeky grin as he mouthed "Save me!" to her while Mrs. Weasley had her back turned.
"Agreed," Harry said, nuzzling against his girlfriend's neck. "It's always on your father's birthday that something like this happens though, remember Teddy's adventure last year?"
"Oh yes, how could I forget, he nearly totaled the entire house, he gets it from George, I believe. A fairytale, you said?" Ginny grinned at Harry.
"Gin, this is everything I could have ever asked for," Harry said seriously, whisking her up into his arms. "Your family may be slightly mad, but I say, I couldn't live without them,"
"Well, Mister Potter, I can personally vouch for the fact that I couldn't live without you," Ginny stated matter-of-factly, capturing Harry's lips in her own and forgetting for the moment that her rampaging mother was in the same room.
"Ginny, dear," Mrs. Weasley panted, keeping her beady eyes on her youngest son, trudging up the stairs with frosting in his red hair from the now-shining kitchen floor. "I'll take you up to your room now, say goodnight to Harry,"
"Well, every fairytale must come to an end," Ginny sighed, to which Harry smiled and shook his head.
"Ginny, this fairytale will live on so much longer than us—even our children will know our stories,"
"Oh, so now you're talking about children?" Ginny whispered seductively, watching with amusement as Harry's eyes widened.
"Come along, dear!"
"Night, Potter," Ginny winked at her boyfriend as he replied with a faint "Night", watching her depart.
Following her mother up the stairs, Ginny wasn't surprised to find another loving couple making up for their recent argument on the second floor landing.
"Ron!" Mrs. Weasley whispered, scandalized. "Honestly, dear!"
"Sorry Mum,"
"Sorry Mrs. Weasley," Hermione muttered, ducking away from Ron and running towards her room with a quiet "Good night!", leaving Ron looking after her in a daze.
"Wipe that smirk off your face this instant, Ronald! Do I need to charm your door locked until the morning, or can I trust you? Children these days…" Mrs. Weasley grabbed Ginny's arm and marched her to her old room.
"You better be in here in the morning, dear!"
"And what if I'm not, Mum?" Ginny pressed her luck, grinning. She was surprised by a lack of reaction from her mother.
"Dearie, I remember what it was like…honestly, me and your father had our share of midnight trysts…" Mrs. Weasley sighed with a smile, ignoring the look of disgust from her youngest child. "But we were responsible, and so you shall be as well! Tomorrow I will have a discussion with you and Ronald about, as the Muggles say, the 'birds and the bees'…I hope that you will think twice about your passion after that conversation!"
Blissfully ignorant to her daughter's fierce mutterings and disgusted glances, Mrs. Weasley patted her on the head and exited the room, shutting the door.
Ginny settled herself on the mound of blankets on the floor, Andromeda and Teddy already having occupied the bed and both contentedly snoring the night away. She turned onto her side with a smile, thinking about Harry.
A fairytale, he says.
Our fairytale.
Little did she know what was to come in the following months; exactly two years and one hour after Ron's nimble and graceful execution of the leftover birthday cake, Harry Potter proposed to Ginny Weasley, and exactly six months after that, she was Mrs. Ginny Potter. And she never forgot her then-boyfriend's words on her father's birthday two and a half years ago.
Four years after that, Ginny was telling the epic tale of love during a time of war and peace to her own son, James.
Their epic tale; their fairytale.
"Ginny, this fairytale will live on so much longer than us—even our children will know our stories,"