A/N: I felt like writing this, so I avoided all my other fanfic projects! I think I've really blown up my grammar, but I'm really inspired, so please enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Lovely J.K. Rowling does.
Boys With Glasses Love Redhaired Girls
By larrythestapler
Harry woke up that morning with an empty mind. He rose from his bed and looked at the redhaired woman on it. The woman he had been with for fifteen years. In cold blood, he opened the blinds. He gently shook Ginny.
"Ginny, love, wake up, it's morningtime." She remained sleeping, though reacted with incoherent mumblings. Harry sighed.
Something was missing. He did not feel any emotion with her, and their flame of love had finally been blown over. They both worked long shifts and spent much time away from home, and when they finally reunited, a peaking emptiness filled the space between them.
But then Harry thought of his time with her, the entirety of their life. The moments played through his mind like clips from an old film.
***
He remembered being a boy, walking down the halls of Hogwarts aimlessly seeking for her. She passed him with an arrogant coolness and ignored him. Yet he craved her. He craved seeing her strut down the halls confidently, leaving a clearing flowery scent behind her as she left him standing there, both amused and bemused. He watched her leave, engrossed with her perfect legs and lustrous hair. He often got lost in her dark brown eyes. And Harry knew why he wanted her so badly. She let off a homely aura. Home. She reminded him of something he never had once in his life.
"Wow," he breathed.
***
He remembered the first kissed they shared together. Everything came to life from that moment. It was wet, and they had been under an awkward situation, but it provided him with such a raw, potential energy. And at an aching, old man age of thirty-eight, he was a boy again. He brushed Ginny's lustrous orange hair out of her face and sank into her pool of warm, brown eyes as they reached out to his genuinely surprised green ones. The soft touch of her rosy lips moistened his chapped lips, and their faces angled to a degree where their noses brushed awkwardly. Nothing mattered at that moment anymore. They were two young lovers, and no force of evil could steal that love from them. He felt like the king of the world at that moment. And no one could take it away.
"Boys with glasses love girls with red hair," she teased.
***
He remembered the first time he was actually there for her, not as a hero, nor protector, but as a close friend. They sat on the freshly cut grass, not together, yet together. He saw the clouds in her eyes, and how they let the tears in her eyes helplessly fall. Harry listened. She was a train wreck, yet he felt a gravitational attraction to her. Harry sensed strength in her weakness; she rarely wept, but for the first time, she showed him her weakness hidden from her bold colors. Harry saw something beyond that; he saw the strings binding her heart together finally unraveling, and exposing a complete raw and beautiful honesty.
"Do you think we'll make it?" Ginny whispered her voice bound by the trickling trembling in her throat.
"Yeah," he answered directly. "You're so damn cute." Harry kissed her soft forehead and let himself fall into a warm and fuzzy mess.
Perhaps troubles didn't melt like lemon drops. But they melted every time he looked her in the eyes.
***
He remembered their wedding like it was yesterday. Ginny wanted the wedding outside, beneath the mellow spring breeze. And so the wedding happened outside.
Harry relived the nervousness that morning, as he placed the rose corsage in the pocket of his black Armani suit. He washed off the ink on his hands on which he wrote his wedding vow to Ginny. He knew that on this day, all he could do was speak from his heart. Ron, his best man, stood there quietly. He trusted Harry to invest all his love to his only sister.
"But would that promise be fulfilled?" Harry asked himself out loud in the future. He looked at the cupboard next to where Ginny lay heavily asleep. There, an enchanted photograph sat for fifteen years. He picked up the small, faded frame and brushed her face gently with his thumb. Their wedding day. He was too happy to cry, but he felt tears welling in the back of his eyes.
He remembered her confident strut as she made her way down the aisle. He saw her smiling face, her hair fixed in a beautiful bun on her head. Harry heard them both awkwardly giving their wedding vows at the altar, and felt the tears stain both their faces. Thin, yet strong, Harry held the weight of her body and the intricate frills and tassles from her white wedding dress, as he carried her down the altar, as rice pelted on their heads, everyone smiling for their utter bliss.
He was happy.
***
He remembered the sounds of crashing bottles and the angry comebacks from Ginny's voice. The words she spoke back at him turned themselves into knives stronger than her Bat-Bogey Hexes. The way they lay on bed together, yet not together, a cold line dividing them. His bedside felt cold and angry, yet he was not angry at Ginny. He never blamed her for a single thing.
But Harry also remembered their first reconciliation, and how he held her close with his embrace. He felt rotten, petty, and missed her teasing him and holding him tightly.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. He brushed his fingers through her red hair gently as his breath crawled down her neck. He knew, no matter how things went, he would always follow her into the dark.
She missed his touch and kindness. She stroked the silvery scar on his head gently. "I forgive you."
"I missed you."
***
He remembered her hand clasping on his so tightly when she brought their first child into the world. She rarely wept, or cried, and Harry loved that about her.
"Come on, we can do this, Harry, come on," Ginny exclaimed as she bit her lip. It bled, but she refused to cry under the excruciating conditions. Harry shared that pain. Sweat covered her forehead; her arms were tired, yet she persisted. He felt the pain subsist, and Ginny's grip loosened.
"Are you two ready to be parents?" the Healer asked with a tinge of mutual joy and happiness in her professional voice. She cut the odd looking placenta, and a baby's scream filled the room. The scream combined happiness and joy and natural parental worry all into one feeling. The Healer handed the baby to the couple gently.
"It's a boy," she said as she kissed the baby's head. Harry held the child in his arms. He finally had home in his entire body. The newborn's fuzzy temporal hair felt soft and warm to his touch, the touch of family.
***
Harry went back onto the bed and embraced the woman he had been with for fifteen years. She had grown jaded and contradicting. But she kept her liveliness and independence in her heart, where she kept him forever. And though that spark was gone, it was just clearly in need of a stimulant. Her love never failed him.
Every morning he woke up beside her, a beautiful, energetic goddess in his eyes. It was a brand new day.
"I love you," he whispered in her ears. She smiled.
Fin.
A/N: I couldn't go to sleep last night because of this! I just felt like writing fluff! It's unbeta'd , so it might be a little informal. Hope you enjoyed it! Read and Review~