Pairing: H/G, with a hint of R/Hr and, of course, some mild Bill/Fleur.
A/N I haven't published anything in about two years but I've decided it's time to give it another try. I'd really appreciate constructive criticism, as I know this story is far from perfect and I could use the help. Thank you. 3
Always
Harry's lungs cried for air as he and Mr. Weasley apparated at the front of the Burrow. He took a few seconds to right himself and then looked up at the face of Arthur Weasley, which seemed to be lost in all the frown lines. "Thanks, Mr. Weasley, I know you're really busy with the wedding and Side-Along-Appiration isn't exactly what-"
"Oh, nonsense, Harry! Anyway, Molly wanted to make sure you'd get here in time, you're practically family too."
Harry nodded and then turned to look at his second favorite home in the world, which, at the moment, seemed to be on the verge of an apocalypse: chairs and tables were strewn on the lawn in no particular order, smoke seemed to be coming out from all four chimneys, people were rushing in and out of the house, shrieks in English and swear words in French were heard every few seconds and someone had obviously de-gnomed the garden too early, for a row of gnomes was making its way back at this very moment.
"I'm afraid it looks even worse from this point of view." He heard Mr. Weasley apologize.
But he found himself chuckling. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be, Mr. Weasley."
Mr. Weasley smiled kindly. "Well then, after you."
But before he could enter the house Ron Weasley bounded outside to greet him. "Hello, mate." he said, clapping a hand over Harry's shoulder. "Glad you could join us for the insanity."
Harry grinned. "That bad?"
Ron's laughter thundered even louder than usual, possibly because he had somehow managed to grow another inch in the two weeks Harry hasn't seen him. "Are you kidding? Half an hour ago Mom had a nervous breakdown because the napkins didn't match the cutlery! Honestly, it's not as if the incantation's that hard."
Harry let Ron ramble on, happy to finally hear something that did not have to do with the war, for that was all Ron and Hermione's letters dealt with during his stay at the Dursleys.
"…and then, right, Fleur's crazy old aunt comes in and bats George on the head with her walking stick! Not only that, but she charmed the huge bruise to stay!"
"Well, at least it's not boring."
"Boring? I've almost forgotten what it's like. Don't worry about that though, Hermione seemed to have raided the library before we left Hogwarts and she's already trying to get me to join her on a crazy reading-marathon, or whatever it is she's doing."
"Where is Hermione, really?"
Ron made a face. "They dragged all the girls up to one of the rooms to help Fleur get ready three hours ago. Merlin, you'd think they were transfiguring her! Not that she needs it, aye."
But Harry didn't even get to roll his eyes, because the air was pierced with an ear-splitting shriek, demanding Ronald Billius Weasley's presence in the kitchen. Sighing, Ron trudged back in, Harry in his wake.
Inside people were flying by, each caught in his or her own trauma while Mrs. Weasley tried to orchestrate the whole chaos with the help of especially high tones. Harry, however, was simply glad to be back in the Burrow, even if it was nearly exploding with blue and white decorations. This was his, Ron's and Hermione's last chance for happiness, before they had to face the dark path ahead. They had not discussed it in their letters, in case they were being intercepted, but Harry knew his best friends well enough to know that they hadn't regretted the promise they made him after Dumbledore's funeral. He hadn't counted on it, but he knew now, after rolling sleeplessly in his bed night after night at number four, Privet Drive, that he wouldn't be able to do it without them.
Before Mr. Weasley came to get him he had half a mind not to come, because he knew it would be much harder to leave a place he cared for, as opposed to Privet Drive, which he dreamed of leaving ever since he had been one year old. And there was another reason he had been reluctant to come.
As he helped Ron with the napkins (which now, thankfully, matched the cutlery) he couldn't help but glance up toward the staircase every now and then. For as much as he tried, whenever he wasn't thinking about the war, Voldemort or the Horcruxes, his thoughts strayed to Ginny. He hadn't regretted the decision he had made, but every day without her was proved harder. Indeed, he missed her so much now that he found it almost unbelievable that he had spent so many years without her before.
The Burrow was full with traces of Ginny: from the exaggerated decorations, which he was sure she hung herself, to Arnold the Pygmy Puff, which had almost been sat on, three times.
An hour later, at dusk, guests started arriving and Harry and Ron both went outside, where rows of chairs had been sat facing an arch embroidered with flowers, with little fairy lights dancing around them.
Harry was just laughing his head off as Ron was recovering from Auntie Muriel's extremely wet welcome kiss, when Hermione stepped out of the house. "Harry!"
Hermione exclaimed, her face splitting into a grin. She ran toward him, enveloping him a in such a strong hug that for a second he thought he had tried to apparate.
"It's good to see you too, Hermione." He said, trying to breath.
Ron seemed slightly put out. "And what am I, a blast-ended skrewt?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and let go of Harry. "I saw you a few hours ago, Ron. Besides, Harry's not the one I'm saving a dance for, right?"
As a response, Ron's ears instantly colored red, while Harry was doing his best to suppress a smirk.
Hermione linked one arm through Harry's and one through Ron's and smiled. "Now, shall we get seats?"
They sat at the front row and soon enough Bill and Charlie, who was chosen to be the best man, stationed themselves under the beautiful arch. Gentle music began flowing down the rows, coming from a harp in the corner, which a slightly sinister French man was playing.
Quickly, knowing what was to come, Harry fixed his gaze on the arch, determined not to see the bridesmaids. But when the entire crowd drew a gasp, he couldn't hold himself any longer. He turned, only to lock gazes immediately with a pair of all too familiar warm brown eyes. He was eternally grateful he was sitting, because he didn't think his knees would have been able to support him, if he was standing. In an elegant dress of pale gold, with her hair surrounding her face like a halo, she looked more beautiful than in any of his fantasies. And what was more, she was finally real again.
She looked at him boldly and then, with what seemed to take quite an effort, she looked away and kept on making her way to the arch. He stared at her retrieving back, not taking the slightest notice of Gabrielle and barely seeing Fleur, who seemed actually radiate beauty.
The ceremony had started and, after an elbow to the ribs and frantic mutter from Hermione, he tore his eyes from Ginny and fixed his gaze on Bill and Fleur. It held exactly two minutes, until his eyes flew back to her. She, however, was completely focused on the ceremony.
By the time the vows came Harry's neck had started to heavily protest the odd angle in which it was turned, though Harry had no intention to move it an inch. When Fleur started talking, however, he was surprised to lock eyes with Ginny again. She was not only stealing a glance at his direction, she had fully turned to face him.
"From the moment I saw you, I knew. Eet wasn't something you 'ad said, or something you 'ad done, eet was just who you seemed to be, a strong, courageous man I would grow to love. And I wasn't wrong."
Harry's heat skipped a beat. Though Ginny hadn't said a thing, she didn't have to. Her face had spoken clearly enough – it was telling him mutely what Fleur was saying to Bill.
The rest of the ceremony washed over him without really registering. He had only resurfaced when Hermione placed her hand over his shoulder. "Harry? Is everything okay?"
He blinked at her. "What? Yes, fine." He looked around him and noticed almost everyone had already gotten up and moved towards the tables, which were laden with delicious smelling food. In what seemed to be the dancing area Fleur and Bill were already in the center, holding each other close and swaying to the music. Ginny was nowhere to be seen.
"Oy, mate, you coming or what?" He turned to look back at Ron, who was eyeing him oddly.
"Yeah." Harry got up and they started walking. As they reached the dance floor Harry noticed the sideways glances Ron was sending Hermione and decided he did not want to be in the awkward middle again. "Er, I think I'm going to get a head start of the treacle tart. You know, before it runs out."
Both of his best friends nodded absentmindedly, neither aware that only the appetizers were being served at the moment. Unable to hold back a grin Harry nodded and walked away. As he circled the tables his eyes fell again on Bill and Fleur. Fleur was looking admiringly up at Bill and he, although it was slightly hard to tell with all the scars, was looking at her with the exact same expression. They both loved each other despite everything and were willing to commit themselves to one another even now, in the darkest of times.
Harry's insides twisted painfully and he looked away. It isn't the same, he reminded himself stubbornly and started walking again. Neither of them is The Chosen One. They don't have to go around and hunt pieces of Voldemort's soul. They don't have to be afraid he'll use one of them as bait, or kill one of them to hurt the other.
Harry shook his head. He had made up his mind and he was not going to change it. He was not going to risk Ginny's life simply because he...
He shook his head again. This was not a good train of thoughts to follow as well.
He looked around and realized his feet had carried him away from the wedding and behind the house to a weather-beaten bench, perched under a large oak tree. Harry sighed, sat down and ran a hand through his hair. The truth was that he was scared. Scared and lost. He knew what he had to do but he had absolutely no idea how he was going to be able to accomplish it. Dumbledore had made it seem almost easy. Finding a horcrux, destroying it, facing Voldemort.
But Dumbledore was gone now and so was the feeling of security he had given Harry. And all that was left was a stubbornness to finish it. To finish it for those who no longer could. To finish it so he could feel, for the first time in his life, real freedom.
That was, if he could indeed finish it. Suddenly, and not quite sure if he had meant to do it aloud or not, he had let out a groan of frustration.
"It's hard, isn't it?"
Harry looked up, startled. There, standing in front of him and wearing a sad smile, was Ginny Weasley. "Ginny!" he exclaimed, but found himself at loss to continue the sentence.
"How are you, Harry?" Her tone was light but her eyes were as serious as they were during Fleur's vow.
"Fine." He replied automatically.
He could tell she didn't believe it. He had become quite bad at lying to her. However, she didn't try to contradict him but simply sat down beside him. His brain was screaming at him to get up, leave, run away, but the rest of him was frozen to the spot.
"The wedding turned out to be beautiful, didn't it?"
He nodded numbly, trying to keep his eyes away from her lips, her eyes, her neck, her nose, her hair... He had finally settled his gaze a little higher than the top of her head.
"Fleur had been a nightmare this whole week but I think I'm ready to see her as Auntie Fleur. Makes her sound old and ugly, doesn't it?" Her lips twitched into a smile (not that he was looking). "Besides, she really came through with her vow, didn't she?"
"Ginny." He tried to stop her, while fighting back the urge to kiss her.
"No, Harry, I'm not going to stop." She had become serious again. She was looking at him with that blazing look. "I need to tell you before you go. …before it will be too late."
His fist closed painfully on the bench's arm, his knuckles turning white. "If you tell me, I wouldn't be able to go and I have to. I have to, Ginny."
"I know you do, Harry, and I'm not going to stop you. I listened to what you had to say after the funeral and I understand. I don't agree, but I understand. And now I need you to understand as well. I'm coming back for my sixth year at Hogwarts, but I'm not coming back for my seventh year."
Harry opened his mouth to protest loudly but she ploughed on angrily, not allowing him to interject.
"No, Harry, you do not get a say in this! This is my decision to make and it doesn't even have to do with you as much as it has to do with me! Next August I'll be of age and there is no way I'll simply go back to Hogwarts for another whole year when I am perfectly capable to help out.
I think that out of all the people, you'd be the one to understand it best. Two years I've been cooped up in that castle, unable to do almost anything, while people outside were being murdered and tortured! When I was learning useless things, like how to turn a tortoise into a tea pot, Death Eaters were killing innocent people! I'm going back this year because until I'm of age there's not much I can do, especially not join the Order and fight. But next year, I don't care what Mom or Dad or you or anyone will do, I'm staying. I'm staying and I'm fighting!"
She stood up again, her eyes full with fire and rage."You and my parents might think that I'm still a baby but I'm not! And you can argue all you want, but this is not for you to decide. I told you I didn't expect anything less from you, when you told me you're going away to battle him but I think you know me well enough not to expect anything less from me as well!"
She stood in front of him, panting slightly, her face beat-red and her hair wild. She looked tired and stubbornly determined. Her face had begun to resemble her father's, with stress and frown lines, and her eyes reflected the horrors she has had to face.
Somehow, in those few moments when she stood in front of him, the girl she was disappeared, to be replaced with an adult.
Harry ran his hands through his hair again. She was right, he should not have expected anything less from her. And yet he did, he hoped. But did he really? He cared so much about her because she was like this. Because she was feisty and courageous and willing to jump head first into danger. She joined the DA and forced him to take her to the Department of Mysteries. And when he had to go with Dumbledore to the cave, he didn't even doubt she'd join Ron and Hermione. And he wasn't wrong, she was right there in the thicket of it all, battling the Death Eaters, just like he expected her to.
He looked up at her. Her jaw was set and her eyes were still blazing and he knew. He knew this was something she had to do and he would have to let her. And just like she hadn't told him to be careful or not to do it, he did the same. He simply nodded, feeling a rather large lump forming in his throat.
"It's just... I wish there was a way... I need you to be here when it's all over..." He whispered, more to his shoes than to her.
At that, Ginny came down to her knees in front of him, placed one hand on his knee and used the other to lift his face, so he would look at her. "Harry, I'll always be here. I'll always be here for you, you understand? …I love you. I always have. And I always will."
"Ginny." His voice was so full with emotions he couldn't bring himself to say anything else.
"I know, I understand." She smiled that sad smile again and leaned forward, hugging him tightly and giving him a feather light kiss on the cheek. "Good luck, Harry Potter."
He closed his eyes, breathing her in, and refused to open them again when she had let go. And when he finally opened his eyes, she was gone. He sighed. And yet, he suddenly understood, she wasn't really gone.
A/N Well, that's it, I hope you enjoyed! Again, I'd appreciate any kind of feedback. :)