Hello, dear reader! So...I always wished Harry and Ginny had more scenes together, as much as I've always adored them. That's what this is for; a collection of one-shots dedicated to developing Hinny a bit more. I'm mainly writing HBP-related ficlets, but I'm willing to stretch it, so long as it helps bring them closer to the love they have in Deathly Hallows. Some of these will be personal ideas of mine, but feel free to PM me with requests, or even put them in a review! XD This particular ficlet is inspired by the quote below.
Disclaimer: I own a set of the books, but not the plot of the books, nor the characters of the books.
"It's not the load that breaks you down; it's the way you carry it." -Lou Holtz
"Here, let me."
"No, thanks, I'm fine."
"Those books are piled so high I can't even see your face, so you'll forgive me if I don't exactly believe you."
Harry rolled his eyes and shifted his books to where he could see Ginny. The girl was standing in front of him with arms outstretched expectantly, ready to take on part of the load. She had one eyebrow raised, and Harry knew just by looking at her that she would disregard any of his protests.
Still, that wouldn't stop him from trying.
"Ginny," he began, "I'm quite capable of carrying a few books to the Common Room."
"A few? A few?!" Ginny scoffed, "Harry, you can't downplay something right in front of me. That is not a few."
"Look," Harry switched tactics, "I'm just going to drop these books off at my dormitory. Why don't you go wait out by the lake? I'll be right there as soon as I'm finished with these."
"Okay, it's a date, and a trip to the lake really does sound pleasant, after all the studying I've been having to do lately."
Harry had thought he'd won, but as it turned out, Ginny had switched tactics as well. She looked at him with brown eyes that suddenly seemed round and sad, "Oh, but I'm already looking forward to it...I wish there was a way to help you drop those books off faster…"
Her eyes - did Harry mention what a lovely shade of brown they were - were big and hopeful, and suddenly he couldn't say no. Defeated, he tipped some of the books into her still-outstretched arms. Her eyes quickly went from desperately hopeful to charged with mischief, but even though she smirked, she didn't rub her victory in, much to Harry's relief.
They walked back side by side, and Harry had to admit, he was now finding his trip much easier than before. He looked at Ginny, who seemed to have forgotten her momentary manipulation, walking calmly at his side with her gaze straight ahead.
"Um..question, Miss Weasley," Harry suddenly piped up.
"Yes, Mr. Potter?" Ginny replied, not missing a beat.
"How exactly did you get so...well…" Harry searched for the right word.
"Manipulative?" Ginny supplied.
"I was trying to find a better word, but - um - yeah. How did you get so manipulative?"
Ginny shrugged, "Practice, I guess. I've always had six older brothers, and I guess I just kind of learned how to get them to do what I want. I couldn't exactly fight back physically when they were all rough-housing, so I had to go about things in a different way. No one knows how to be adorable better than me, Harry, and trust me, it's an art. You've got to know people to be adorable; you've got to know what makes them soften up. So now, after years of practise, I can read people better than Hermione reads books."
Harry snorted at that last remark and smiled, "You are to be congratulated on your skill, Miss Weasley, which, I can safely say, is quite well-developed after - how did you put it? 'Years of practice'?"
Ginny grinned, "Why thank you, Mr. Potter, but now I think it's only fair that since you got to question me, I should get to return the favor."
"And what, pray tell, would you like to know, my dear Ginevra?" Harry asked. He was the only ones allowed to call her by her full name, and even then in only certain situations. Ginny seemed to think this situation called for it, and Harry could see why; calling her Ginny would destroy the humorous atmosphere they had created, which was, in this couple's book, blasphemy.
"Well," said Ginny, and suddenly, she seemed slightly hesitant, though Harry was one of the few people who would notice the change, "I would like to inquire why you, my dear Mr. Potter, are so independent?"
Harry's smile slipped off his face, "What do you mean, Ginny?" He was no longer playing along, as this question had him confused.
The smile had slipped off Ginny's face as well, but she held firm, "I was just wondering why you're so set on doing things solo."
Harry didn't say anything, and Ginny quickly elaborated, "These books, for example. Most people would be fine with someone helping them out with these, but you seemed dead set against it. Why exactly is that?"
Harry still didn't speak, and he kept his eyes fixed firmly ahead, not quite sure how to respond to his girlfriend. Ginny didn't push him, but he could feel her gentle-yet-passionate gaze on him. They walked for what seemed a long moment in silence, and Harry honestly wasn't sure if he could form a response; this was a difficult one for him.
"Harry?" Ginny gently prodded eventually.
Harry risked looking at her for the first time, trying to make a decision. Cautious green eyes met concerned brown ones, and while he still loved those eyes, Harry very nearly looked away. This was a level of sensitivity he wasn't accustomed to, and it was about to frighten him off.
Still…there was just something about Ginny…could it be the way she was looking at him?
Harry nodded briefly to himself, but he looked away from Ginny, "I'm not sure, to be perfectly honest. I mean…" Harry scoured his brain, searching for any good explanation.
"...the Dursleys…" he said at last, "They weren't...they didn't really look after me as much as they should've - certainly not how they looked after Dudley, so I kind of had to be independent during those years, and now that I'm at Hogwarts, I've had to grow up pretty quickly because of...well, you know, everything."
Harry risked glancing at Ginny, who was still looking at him, her gaze, if at all possible, even more intense. Her brown orbs were coated with sympathy, making him suddenly irritated.
"Now, don't go feeling sorry for me," he grumbled, "I'm fine. You wanted to know why I'm so independent; there's your answer. Don't make me regret giving it to you."
Ginny frowned, "And you don't go snapping at me, Harry. I'm your bloody girlfriend, so of course I'm gonna be upset for you. I care about you, Harry, and when you care about someone, you get upset on their behalf."
Harry was silent, soaking in the information, and Ginny let him be - he really admired her patience. Eventually, Harry and Ginny were both surprised to find they'd made it all the way to the portrait of the Fat Lady.
"Troll Club," they both muttered, and the Fat Lady, who was grinning widely at Harry and Ginny as she had been ever since that fateful kiss, swung open. Harry and Ginny entered, both grateful that the Fat Lady didn't notice their lack of the usual vigor that came with being together. They made their way to Harry's dormitory, dropped off the books, and left. The two sat in the good seats by the fireplace, dimly aware how lucky they were to have the good seats empty.
"So," Ginny said at last, when the silence was becoming unbearable, "What'cha thinkin' about?"
Harry fiddled with his fingers nervously, looking around the Common Room just to be sure no one was listening before focusing his attention back on Ginny, "I - I'm a bit worried, Gin."
She cocked an eyebrow, "About what?"
"Well...about you."
"About me? Why me?"
Harry sighed, "It - It's just...I don't know how you're going to react to all this. I'm worried about what you're gonna think of me now - that I'm weak? Broken, maybe? 'Cause I'm not, you know. I don't care what happened, I'm not scarred for life," Ginny's eyes went to Harry's scar. He followed her gaze and chuckled softly, "Mentally, at least."
Ginny sat quietly for a moment, taking in Harry's words. He waited patiently for her to say something, as she always did for him, and eventually, she spoke, "You don't have to worry about me, Harry. I don't see you as weak or broken or anything like that. You can't be weak after all the stuff I've seen you do."
"So how do you feel?"
Ginny replied softly, placing a hand lightly on Harry's leg and sending shivers up it. Harry stared at her hand hesitantly for moment, before slowly placing his own atop it. She smiled and said, "I don't think you're any less of a person for it. I guess I feel like - like I understand you better now. I'm starting to see why you act the way you do. I'm not seeing Harry for the first time; I'm seeing what built Harry. It's a real eye-opener, to be honest. Yes, it makes me mad and sympathetic, but I feel closer to you now."
Harry grinned, and, suddenly filled with an overpowering urge, he kissed her. It lasted for merely a couple of seconds, but when they broke it off, Harry could see that he was not alone in feeling dazed. It was clear that neither of them were quite used to kissing the other just yet.
Ginny suddenly smirked, "But if you think that I don't still want to hex those prats you call family, you clearly don't know me as well as you should by now."
Harry laughed, "And if you don't think that I've been wanting to hex them since I discovered magic, we really should break up, because that much should've been obvious."
The two laughed together, and Harry finally gave her a lopsided smile, "So, the lake, then?"
"I've been waiting for ages."
"Me too," Harry bit his lip as he watched her get up, and after wrestling with himself, he said quietly, "And...Ginny?"
Ginny looked down at him curiously, "Yes, Harry?"
"Er, thanks."
"For what?"
"Helping me with the load."