Somehow I'm back with another thing. Third in a week. What?

.

Written for Hogwarts (where I'm a snek) Assignment #7 - Transfiguration Task #4: Write about a storm

.

Also written for the April Auction (for Hogwarts): (pairing) Blaise/Ginny (worth 80 coins)

.

This is for some other things, and they are all listed below.

.

This fic got way out of hand. It was originally gonna be a drabble. How this turned into 4k, I'll never know

.

Summary: Ginny and Blaise have a past. Just like anyone who has lived through the war, it isn't the prettiest, but when they run into each other three years later, will they accept the past and move on, or will the storm be too much for them to handle?

Warnings: War/battle (plus the fighting and death that comes with it) and hints of PTSD.

Word Count (excluding AN): 4014


Thunder and Lightning are Very Frightening

The Storm

It wasn't that Ginny was afraid of a little storm, but when lightning flashed, illuminating the entire shop, and thunder struck, rattling the items on the shelves, simultaneously before plunging everything into darkness, she might have let out a scream.

Not that anyone was around to prove it, or anything.

Everything was still pitch black as Ginny got her wits about her and reached about for her wand. It didn't take too long for her to find it, as it was sitting on the shelf of Puking Pastilles that she had just been stocking. She had her wand in her hand for barely a second before whispering "Lumos."

The products of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes cast eerie shadows when met with the light from Ginny's wand, but it wasn't anything Ginny couldn't handle. She had been running the shop for George so he and Angelina could go on their Honeymoon without shutting it down, and for the last three days it had been storm after storm. Tonight was not the first time the weather had knocked out all of the storewide lighting charms in Diagon Alley.

Still. The storm was so sudden, and with the sharp lightning and loud thunder, it was a little too much for her. Even three years after the war, with each flash of light came images—images that she could do without ever seeing again.

Thunder rumbled again and Ginny shut her eyes tight, losing her focus enough to extinguish the light at the tip of her wand. The softest of whimpers escaped her lips as unwanted sounds entered her mind.

The sounds, the screams and shouts, they weren't real.

But the sound of soft, yet labored, breathing coming from Ginny's left wasn't. It couldn't be, could it?

Ginny hesitantly opened her eyes, not wanting to cast another Lumos just yet, before letting out a fully-fledged scream.

The form of a man was outlined in the very dim lighting of the shop, a man within arms reach of Ginny. She barely caught the slight glint of his eye before sending a panicked stunner, the grip on her wand unbelievably tight.

Her aim was true; the man crumpled to the ground.

The Storm

It wasn't that Blaise was afraid of the storm, he just really hated getting wet. He really, really hated it. Not that he'd complain to anyone about it—he didn't really have anyone to complain to about it—but it did play a factor in each of his decisions.

And no, getting wet wasn't just an excuse to hide from the thunder and lightning, and the images that came with it all.

Normally, he would simply disapparate away, but with lightning this bad and winds this strong, he was worried about the effect the storm would have on his magic.

So he ran into the nearest shop, thunder clapping just as he opened the door. He hurriedly shut it behind him, trying to calm his breathing—if the shop was unlocked, it meant someone was probably in here. He didn't want anyone asking anything as stupid as if he were okay or not.

Or maybe he didn't have to worry about that at all. There was a soft whimpering coming from a little off to his right, and he forced himself to take a slow breath, trying to settle his lungs and mind, before taking a slight step forward.

He almost even asked if the person was okay or not.

But he didn't get a chance. He just got the piercing sound of a scream that turned his insides on fire before he was out cold.

The Storm

At the sickening sound of the man's head hitting the ground, Ginny let out a gasp and rushed forward, practically falling to her knees beside him, wand still clutched in her white-knuckled grasp.

"Lumos." Her voice came out in a choked whisper, and her hands shook slightly at the adrenaline still pumping through her body.

She recognized the man instantly, though quickly pushed every thought aside other than those needed to assess the situation.

He didn't appear to be bleeding, which was a bit of a relief, but there seemed to be a nasty bruise already forming on the side of his forehead. A part of Ginny wanted to heal it, but the other part knew that storms messed with advanced magic, and head healing spells were tricky, to say the least.

Other than the bruise, he looked fine—more than fine, even. His hair, which had been close cropped back at Hogwarts, had grown out a bit, and his shoulders had filled out. He looked strong and healthy, and Ginny couldn't help but smile at the thought of him doing well.

He wasn't a threat to her. She knew, for certain, that he wouldn't hurt her, so she made the only logical choice.

"Rennervate."

His Sixth Year

Blaise looked up as he heard someone entering his vicinity. His hand immediately went for his wand, though his grip loosened slightly when he saw who it was.

A Gryffindor fifth year. Blaise wasn't sure of her first name, but he knew her to be a Weasley. Granted, with her hair and freckles, it was unlikely that she belonged to any other family.

Her brow was slightly furrowed and her hair was up in a messy ponytail, one probably made whilst walking. Over her shoulder rested her broom.

What was she doing in his spot?

What was she doing in the forest at all?

"Umbridge wouldn't be too happy to see that you're out here," he called in a calm voice, almost enjoying the way she jumped at the interruption of the silence. Her features hardened once she realized who it was that had spoken. He enjoyed that too.

He liked it even better when her features softened, though. "Merlin. I'm sorry," she quickly said, ducking her head. However, even with her body in the process of turning around, she didn't manage to hide the soft flush that settled over her cheeks and ears—he liked that very much.

"You didn't do anything, so why are you apologizing?" Blaise immediately cut in, setting aside his Muggle comic book and leaning forward on his legs. He was seated at the base of a tree, in a relatively safe clearing of the Forbidden Forest. It was a place that was easy to escape to, and no one ever found him there.

No one until the Weasley girl, who turned around at his words. "I disturbed you. That's why." Her tone was a sorry attempt at curt. Her ears were still pink.

Blaise couldn't help the smile that was growing on his lips.

"Nah, I haven't been disturbed. Just pleasantly surprised," he countered, his smile growing ever so slightly. "I'll cut you a deal."

Her interest seemed piqued at that. He could tell in the slight tilt of her head.

"You don't tell Umbridge about this spot, or me in it, and I'll let you fly here."

She hesitantly studied Blaise for a moment, and Blaise let her, knowing that he wasn't known to be an incredibly trustworthy person. However, he knew she was going to agree when her own proper grin began spreading across every facet of her being.

Blaise decided that he liked her smile the most of all.

The Storm

His head hurt. His head hurt a lot, and the rolling thunder didn't make it any better.

However, the gentle hands, one on his head and the other on his shoulder, did. They made it a lot better. Greater still when he discovered who they belonged to.

"Merlin you're beautiful."

That wasn't what he had wanted to say. But, based on the way that Ginny drooped her head, letting her hair dip in front of her face, he could tell that she was blushing. He knew that, if there was any lighting, he would be able to see the red dusting her cheeks and ears.

She seemed to get ahold of herself quickly, moving to help him sit up. "I'm sorry for stunning you. I just… wasn't expecting anyone to actually be out at this time of night."

"Don't apologize," he countered, giving her one of his signature smiles despite knowing it was too dark for her to properly see it. "I probably would've done the same thing had I been in your shoes."

Ginny was silent and Blaise took the opportunity to find his wand and whisper a soft "Lumos."

She was even more beautiful than he remembered—the soft freckles dotted on pale skin, the bright hair tumbling over her shoulders. She looked like fire, and Blaise felt something familiar flowing through his veins..

When thunder struck again, Ginny let out a soft yelp and pitched forward a few inches until she was buried in his chest. His arms instinctively wrapped around her, hands gently tracing down her back.

Him comforting her was nothing new. It hadn't happened in a while, but it wasn't new.

However, her being scared of thunderstorms was. It was new for both of them.

"Hey," he whispered, placing his lips on her hairline. "Hey, it's okay. I've got you." His voice was soft and he could tell that it still held a calming effect on her. She slowly relaxed in his arms, letting her body fall limp against his.

Her Sixth Year

"Can I… Can I sit with you?" Ginny asked timidly. It wasn't that she was afraid of sitting with Blaise, not with the odd friendship that they had made the year prior. It was just that things were different this year. Harry was gone, her brother was missing, and Hermione had gone with them. She was on her own this year.

So, she was being bold and asking one of her few friends if she could sit with him on the train.

"If anyone comes in… I'll stay quiet. We don't need anyone thinking you're aligned with the blood traitors." Her voice was quiet and resigned. She barely felt like herself.

She heard Blaise shift so there was room directly beside him. "You're silly," he said, a smile quirked onto his lips. "I've already warded this compartment so it looks full to everyone except you."

Ginny looked up at Blaise at his words before letting herself grin properly. "You idiot. Why didn't you say so sooner?"

It felt good to have some semblance of normal in this crazy time of war and fear.

The Storm

"So… you are telling me that you had a row with a machine?" Blaise asked, reaching for another blanket off of the shelf in the office.

The storm didn't look like it was going to let up anytime soon, so the two of them decided to make the best of it. Fortunately, George kept supplies in his office for long nights or emergencies, and they decided to take advantage of that.

Ginny held back a laugh. "Sort of. It sat there and I shouted abuse."

She was holding candles and a Muggle lighter. George did like his odd Muggle things, and boy was Ginny grateful for that. As the storm went on, the less confident in her magic Ginny became.

"You tell anyone and you're dead, Zabini," Ginny said forcefully, though her tone was definitely playful.

She set the things in her arms carefully on the desk before going about setting the candles up around the office and lighting them up. She could feel Blaise's eyes on her, but she didn't mind. When she was done, there was a decent amount of light shining, and she turned to Blaise, glad to see that he was still looking at her, but had at least set up the blankets for them to lay on.

He smiled and it made her heart flutter. "Don't worry, Gin. Your secret is safe with me."

A grin settled onto her lips.

He patted the blanket beside him, but she ignored him. "George keeps normal, untampered chocolate around here. Should be in a pink box," she said, her grin growing when Blaise groaned and stood up.

"Alright. First we find the chocolate… then can we lay down?" he asked, giving her a puppy dog stare.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "After the chocolate we need to find George's record player. Then, and only then, can we lay down."

Blaise grinned and dear Merlin did Ginny want to kiss the dimples that formed on his cheek. "I like that idea," he said before turning around to face the rows of shelves on the wall.

"Oh really?" Ginny countered, beginning her own search for the two very important items. "I have a lot of ideas. Trouble is, most of them suck."

Blaise laughed. "You're probably right."

Ginny turned around, looking affronted. "Hey! You are supposed to tell me that all of my ideas are brilliant!"

It was a good thing Ginny spotted a bright pink box, or else she would have hit Blaise when he responded with a playful: "Sorry, love. I'm not a fan of lying."

His Seventh Year

Blaise felt like he couldn't breathe. His whole body was trembling, whether from anger or fear he wasn't sure. Half of him wanted to scream, and the other half wanted to sob.

So he settled for something in the middle.

"Where is she," he demanded, his voice shaky. "Longbottom please. Where is she."

Longbottom looked how Blaise wanted to—sure, strong, unbreakable. He would do anything to switch places with the Gryffindor.

"Get the hell out of here, Zabini," Longbottom snarled, taking a step forward, towering over Blaise. It wasn't that he was taller than Blaise, but he certainly held more power here. "You'll never see her again. Not after what you did. Leave."

Blaise took a small step back, his shoulders shrinking. Self-disgust crawled over him like spiders. He finally let out that shaky sob.

"Please," he begged, all fire gone from his voice. "Please. I need… I need to see her… to apologize."

Longbottom growled, actually growled, and raised his wand, advancing so quickly on Blaise that when Blaise scrambled away, he ran his back into the corridor wall. The Gryffindor snatched Blaise's uniform collar, his wand digging into Blaise's neck. "So help me, Zabini. You say one more word and you—"

"Neville."

Blaise let out a soft sob when he heard her voice, his Ginny's voice. He didn't dare raise his eyes to meet her, not after what he did, but he was relieved to hear she was alright all the same.

"Go back to The Room, Ginny," Neville said, never once loosening his grip on Blaise. "I'll make sure this pathetic excuse of a wizard never touches you again."

He was crying now, hot tears streaming down his cheeks, and it was all he could do to let out a choked whimper. "I-I'm so, so sorry."

Neville's eyes flash. "Oh, you're not sorry yet, but you will be," he snarled, his voice more dangerous than Blaise had ever heard before. "No one, and I mean no one Crucios one of my own without paying the price."

"Neville, stop," Ginny cut in, desperation in her voice. She was pulling Neville off of Blaise, her breathing ragged. Blaise wanted to tell her he wasn't worth the time. "It's not his fault—"

"Not his fault?" Neville yelled, using his grip on Blaise to slam him back into the wall again, forcing a gasp out of him. "He was the one that trained his wand on you. He was the one who cast the curse. He hurt you, Ginny. It sure as hell was his fault."

Ginny was crying now, and it tore at Blaise to hear such a sound coming from her. "He had to, Neville," she sobbed, still tugging at the boy, trying to pull him away. "You d-don't understand. They have his mum. He has t-to do as they say."

Neville growled again, pushing Blaise hard enough into the wall for him to see stars. "That's no excuse."

Blaise let out another choked sob. He just wanted all of this to be over.

"Neville. Please," Ginny tried again.

This time, it got the desired effect. Neville let go of Blaise, letting him crumple to the floor, and stepped back. "If he hurts you again, I will kill him," he said like a promise, his voice low and terrifying. He didn't walk away, but he stepped back enough to give the two some space.

Ginny fell to her knees beside Blaise, quickly gathering him up in a hug that he almost didn't return. However, as she sobbed into his shoulder, he couldn't help but wrap his arms around her.

"I forgive you," she whispered, her breath hot against his neck.

He knew, as he held her close, that he would never be able to forgive himself. Her scream as he had cast the curse, Alecto's stare watching him carefully, would haunt him, make his blood boil, forever.

The Storm

Blaise was glad once they had George's record player started up. The Muggle tunes helped to cover the sounds of thunder. Pair that with the fact that they were in the only room of the shop with no windows, with lots of candles to brighten said room up, it almost felt like there wasn't a storm at all.

Not that he was afraid of storms, or the images that came with them.

And he was with Ginny. It felt so good to just be by her side again. They sat side by side atop a blanket, another blanket spread over their laps. They hadn't been so close since his seventh year.

Of course, he had gone back to school for his 'eight year' as a part of his parole, but he and Ginny hadn't really talked. Between his guilt, and her dating Potter, they just ended up never talking to one another.

And now, here they were, two years later, barely knowing a thing about each other's lives.

"Harry and I… we just weren't meant to be," Ginny said, though there was a soft sadness to her voice. Blaise wondered if there was more to their breakup than she was letting on. "You know that moment when you are with someone and you just feel it in your heart that everything is right?"

Blaise new that feeling. He knew that feeling a little too well, and almost felt guilty for it. "Yeah?"

"Well, I never felt that with Harry, and he never felt it with me."

She smiled softly at Blaise, and he couldn't help but feel glad that their room was lit enough for him to see the soft pink on her cheeks. "Is it bad that I'm glad he never felt it with me?" she asked softly, shifting so she could reach up and touch his cheek.

He leaned into her touch, feeling all of his breath leave him at once. He had missed this.

"No. I don't think it's bad at all."

The Battle of Hogwarts

"Blaise!" Ginny screamed, the sounds of explosions crashing all around her. She had been searching ever since the battle started, and she couldn't find him. She couldn't find him.

She needed to find him.

The air was heavy with smoke, making is difficult to breathe, to see, to think. Ginny wanted to cry, but she knew that if she stopped moving she might never move again.

"BLAISE!"

This wasn't getting her anywhere. She couldn't find him, which meant that he was either not nearby or dead, and she didn't want to think about that second option. So she just didn't. She put the thought out of her mind and continued the fight.

There were Death Eaters everywhere, some standing and some not, and it was getting increasingly more difficult to avoid the bodies and rubble on the ground, but Ginny managed.

She had to manage. There was no other choice.

So she ran, she ducked, she jumped, she shouted curses, and she tried not to cry. It was exhausting and painful, but she never once stopped, not even when her back was against a wall, a Death Eater staring down at her, her wand trapped in his hand.

"Maybe I'll keep you," he mused in a slimy voice, the kind that sent shivers down her spine, but then he was enveloped in a red light and writhing on the floor, revealing a pissed off Blaise behind him.

He was bleeding, his school uniform torn, and had murder in his eyes. "You won't touch her," he said, glaring down at the fallen, still writhing Death Eater.

Ginny forced back a sob and quickly fell into action, reclaiming her wand and pointing it down at the man.

When he howled, reaching for her ankle to try and bring her down with him, she cast her spell.

His life ended with a green flash.

The Storm

"So, you're a reserve for the Holyhead Harpies?" Blaise asked, and Ginny smiled. She had worked so hard to get noticed by the team, and when she was casted as a reserve, it had made every training session worth it.

Instead of answering verbally, she nodded. Somehow they had transitioned from sitting beside each other to Ginny curled into him, her head on his chest. She wasn't complaining, though. The exact opposite, in fact.

She loved being in his arms; she felt safe.

The Muggle music was still playing, some band she didn't recognize, and the candles still flickered. Past that, she could tell that the storm was still raging, but she put that out of her mind. She was with Blaise. She was alright.

"I'm glad you were able to get in with them," he whispered, his lips just barely brushing along her hairline.

Ginny felt something stirring in her chest.

"Blaise?" she asked, sitting up so she could face him fully. His dark eyes shined in the candlelight and she felt herself blushing softly.

He carefully reached his hand up to cradle the side of her face, his ever present smile quite soft. "What is it, Gin?"

She took a deep breath, calling on all of her courage. "Remember when I was talking about… that feeling that you get when you are with someone and things are just right?"

His smile dropped a little bit, his eyes softening. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice so little that Ginny almost lost her courage.

But she didn't. She held strong. "That's what I'm feeling right now."

Relief flooded through her veins when surprise, then joy filtered through his expression. "Yeah?" he prompted, sitting up just a little straighter.

She could only nod at his prompt, feeling warmth spreading across her cheeks and to his ears. His smile grew.

"You know. I feel the exact same thing," he said, gently picking up Ginny's hand and resting it against his chest. "Right in here."

His Eighth Year

It physically hurt him to look at her. She was still standing tall, though looked younger this year. Only in some aspects. Her eyes looked older. Her eyes held the haunted haze of one who has seen death—who has brought death.

But everything else, in the way she moved, seemed younger. She wasn't as sure of herself, and it hurt to watch.

He never took her eyes off of her.

He felt too guilty to go up to her, to talk to her, to attempt to comfort her, having not even said a proper word to her since the Battle of Hogwarts, but he watched all the same.

And, every once in a while, she raised her eyes to meet his.

They never spoke. They never touched. And it hurt.

But their eye contact was enough.

Or so he told himself.

After the Storm

The sun rose, but the office inside Weasley's Wizard Wheezes remained dark. Inside rested two bodies, limbs tangled together under a warm blanket. Their pace of breathing was completely in sync, and neither stirred.

It took them a while, but they were finally able to find peace in each other's arms.


A/N 2.0:

Insane #258: (dialogue) "You didn't do anything, so why are you apologizing?"

.

360 #43: Brother

.

Writing club:

-Disney Challenge Character #7: Fairy Godmother - Write about someone unexpected lending a helping hand

-Showtime #6: (dialogue) "Where is she?"

-Amber's Attic #13: "I have lots of ideas. Trouble is, most of them suck."

-Liza's Lodes #3: Set a fic in a place you've never written about before.

-Lo's Lowdown Dialogue #6: "You had a row with a machine?" / "Sort of. It sat there and I shouted abuse."