Quidditch League, Round 8
Position: Beater 1
Prompts:
(word) Beastly
(word) Demon
Thing: Basilisk
Word Count: 1,734
The floor of the chamber was soaked, water mixing with the blood of the dead basilisk, which lay by one of the walls. Harry stood by it, the Sword of Gryffindor clutched loosely in his hand.
He had done it.
Tom Riddle had gone and the book that had caused him, and others, so much trouble this year was gone, too. It was lying in a pool of water and blood, a gaping, jagged hole through the middle – Harry's handiwork.
And lying on the floor in the middle of the chamber, her arms hugging her body, her bright ginger hair fanning out around her, was his prize; the damsel in distress; the girl he had rescued; Ginny.
She had been pale, paler than anyone he'd ever seen, at the doors of death. But he had stopped it. He, Harry, the Boy Who Lived, had gone against impossible odds and he had done it all for her.
He walked to her side, not needing to rush; there was nothing that stood in his way anymore. As Harry reached Ginny, she stirred at last. Her eyelids fluttering, she groaned softly and sat up slowly. Opening her eyes slowly, the first thing she saw was Harry's emerald eyes, looking worriedly back into hers. She smiled at her saviour. He was the only person she wanted to be there; the only person she would have wanted to save her.
It sounded bad when she put it like that. Didn't she want her brothers or her parents to rescue her? Or any of her other Gryffindor friends? But the truth was, although they all meant well, she didn't think any of them were the same as Harry.
He was a warrior; a man trapped in a boy's body, willing and ready to fight for what he believed in, fight against evil. But he wasn't bloodthirsty. Harry had great friends – one of which was Ginny's own brother – who he cared about immensely, and would never let down.
Was she one of his friends?
She supposed, since he had risked his life to save hers, that probably meant they were friends. But that wasn't all she wanted. Not by a longshot.
Ginny, although she would love to be one of this amazing boy's friends, would not rest, could not rest, until he loved her with as much passion as she loved him. She had known from the first day they had met that she would grow to adore this man, their love would surpass all other feelings and they would spend their lives together, in bliss and happiness. They would have many beautiful children, with her hair and his eyes, and at last, many years from now, they would die together, in each other's arms.
She could not possibly have said how she knew all of this, just from the moment she set eyes on him. It was such a fairytale thought, and very naïve of her to think it might actually happen. But how could she stop herself? Harry was everything she'd ever wanted and ever would want in a friend, a husband, a lover. And, really, what was stopping them from strolling off, hand in hand, into the sunset?
Nothing was stopping them except for Harry. Ginny loved Harry, she knew she did, but she couldn't say the same for him. How did she know what went on in his mind? How could she possibly trick herself into believing that they actually had a future together?
But all her questions were answered; all her doubts disappeared, when she opened her eyes.
Harry was flooded with relief, instant and all-consuming, when he saw that she was alright. Ginny was alive. She was fine. It would all be okay.
He stared at her with warmth and affection, his hand cradling her small, gentle head. Ginny stared up at him with those bewitching eyes, her long eyelashes fluttering ever-so-slightly.
"Harry," she murmured, so quietly Harry almost didn't hear. He nodded, pulling her close.
"It's alright," he whispered into her ear. "You're safe now."
Ginny gave in to the hug, pulling Harry in, resting her head on his shoulder, her hands wrapped around his back. She breathed in his scent, nuzzling against his neck.
Eventually, she pulled away, but Harry grasped her hands instead, clutching them hard, willing them to get a bit warmer. She felt as cold as stone.
Realising she had been staring at Harry, Ginny wrenched her eyes away and, instead, took in the room around them.
The tall, rock walls towered above them, the rough stone dirty and cracked. The smooth stone floor had a layer of clear, cold water covering it; Ginny could only guess where it had come from. Over by the wall, in front of some jagged rocks, was the basilisk. The scales had gone limp and loose, as if the skeleton had shrunk and the skin no longer fit it. It's mouth was open, the fangs bright white, dripping with blood and venom.
Had she been here on her own, or on any other day, the snake carcass would have terrified her. But not today. This beastly creature did not scare her. Not while she had Harry here, not while her hands were clasped in his.
His presence was giving her strength, his hands covering hers showing her courage. She would not be afraid. She had no need to be afraid, not with Harry here.
"Harry," she whispered again, her voice catching just on his name. She paused, unable to go on for a moment. "Harry," she tried again, "Thank you," she smiled and took a deep breath. "Thank you for saving me. I-I don't know how, I don't think I would have made it out of here without you."
Her words may have sounded a bit melodramatic, but it was true. It was only dawning on her now that, had Harry not showed up to save the day, she would still be lying there on the ground, growing colder and colder, weaker and weaker, as Tom Riddle drew her strength out of her and took it for himself. The very thought of it made her want to gag. He wasn't a person, though, not really. He was a phantom; a demon, a memory of a twisted, evil boy who grew up to be Lord Voldemort. A man who made wizards tremble just at his name, a dark wizard with magic so powerful he made the whole wizarding world fear for their lives.
But Harry had saved her. He Who Must Not Be Named could not get to her here, not now, not while Harry was here. He had saved her, and she could not be more grateful.
Harry smiled. Ginny was okay. It was still sinking in. The immense relief he felt that she was alright, that she had not died, was still sinking in and he felt numb. How could he process his emotions right now? The truth was, they were too strong.
He felt so much for this little ginger witch. Her pale, cold hands clutched in his, her face deathly pale, she didn't look like much. But inside, she was a fierce, strong lady, ready to defend herself and her loved ones at any cost.
What Harry wouldn't give to be included as one of her loved ones. But he knew it was hopeless.
Why would Ginny ever go for a guy like him? He could never have a normal life, never just get a job, get married, have a family. Harry was sure that even if he survived to the end of Hogwarts, the world would never give him a break. As he always said, he didn't find trouble; trouble usually found him. And who said that would stop after Hogwarts?
No. Better to just isolate himself from romantic feelings and relationships until he could be sure that he would at least live long enough for it to mean something.
Only… he would give anything for Ginny to love him. Even if it lasted a mere week. Or a day. She could love him for only an hour, for all he cared. However long it was, it would be the best time of his life.
Surely, he couldn't jeopardize that just because he was afraid of losing her, or of being lost himself?
But then something snapped inside his mind. He realised; what was stopping him from kissing her, right now? Nothing, that's what. There she was, sitting right in front of him, her soft lips practically beckoning him.
So, swallowing his fears, his doubts, his misgivings, he leant in and, closing his eyes, pressed his lips against Ginny's.
Ginny couldn't contain her surprise. He had kissed her. He had kissed her! It was everything she had imagined it to be. She felt like there were fireworks exploding in her head. For all she cared, the rest of the world could just disappear. As long as she was here, with Harry, Ginny couldn't be happier.
She wrapped her arms around Harry's neck, pulling him closer, never wanting the kiss to stop. Ginny felt like her entire life had been leading up to this moment, and it was absolutely, positively, completely perfect.
Eventually, after what seemed like an age, Harry reluctantly broke away. He broke into a grin, ecstatic that he had finally kissed her. And she had kissed him back!
He pulled Ginny into another hug, wrapping his arms protectively round her. "Ginny," he breathed.
"Harry?" she asked in reply. "What is it?"
He took a deep breath. "Ginny," he whispered into her ear, "I think… I think I love you."
Ginny didn't care that they were in a filthy, dingy, long-forgotten chamber. She ignored the fact that ten minutes ago, she was basically lying on her deathbed. The giant basilisk carcass lying less than 10 metres away didn't bother her.
None of it mattered, because he loved her. Harry Potter loved her. Nothing else in the entire world would ever be important again, because The Boy Who Lived had just professed his feelings for her and they were the three most beautiful, amazing words she had ever heard in her life. What's more, they were spoken by the most beautiful, amazing boy she had ever met in her life. And he loved her!
"Harry," she said, a smile playing on her lips, her eyes sparkling. "I love you too."
Author's Note: Sorry about the fluff. It was part of the challenge.