AN: EDIT:
1. So, no one wanted to tell me that I misspelled the title?
2. Gradually changing Ginny's Rule 63 name to Gideon because I know too many people with the name Gabriel. It makes writing awkward.
Second submission to Ship Week! Were any of you really surprised that I was going to do a gender-bent one next? I also remember having positive responses to the hammock scenes that I would write.
The usual deal: names start with the same letter as their canon counterparts. Expect lots of fluff and not much of a plot.
Please leave a review.
(tumblr: Zadi-Zadi-Zadi)
Disclaimer: JK Rowling and the Warner Bros officially own Harry Potter. We are just the misbehaving rugrats playing in the big sandbox.
Title: No Matter What We Breathe
Words: 1K
Summary: He absentmindedly traced the scars on the back of her hand. "I'm going to miss you, you know that?" Gender-bent ships. Harry Potter Ship Week
The hammock was an old thing from his childhood. Halley had found it when she and Rory were getting the ghoul back in the attic. Since then Gid could find the forlorn heroine there, and sometimes reading an old book that was given to her by Sirius and Remus about Defence Against the Dark Arts.
Sometimes he would join her and he would bring something from the kitchen, or they would look over a photo album and he would tell her stories about the moving pictures. She would laugh every now and then about the tales that involved the twins that were up to mischief; or the ones that were about him and Rory trying to get their revenge on the pranks that were pulled on them.
It was good to hear her laugh, too.
One late afternoon day they had found themselves in the same positions as before: she was sitting between his legs with the book opened in her lap. Gid looked over her thin shoulder, and would explain the stories behind the smiling pictures.
"I was seven in this one." He pointed at the one of him holding a battered broomstick. "I think I got it from a cousin. Anyway, I flew right into a tree, too." He showed her his left arm. "Almost broke this arm. Mum wasn't happy about that so she restricted my time on it."
"Nice," Halley snorted. "That's how your history of lock-picking began—a locked shed and a tree."
"I think it's a good origin story." Gid brushed a flyaway piece of her dark hair away. His eyes travelled down and noticed how thin her shoulder blades looked. He couldn't remember the last time that she had looked this haggard. There was something about how pale her skin was and the length of her hair that did brought back memories of when she first came to the Burrow. He winced at the times of him once being unable to speak to her. It was embarrassing to think of how shy he used to be around Halley.
That's different now, Gid thought to himself. He saw how close their bodies were, and took a deep breathe of the smell of her shampoo that lingered in the air. Irises and there was broom polish from flying earlier that day. Very different.
"Here I thought you were always a good flyer." Halley's smile was cheeky. "Are you sure that you're up to leading the team this year?"
"I'm ready. I just wish you were there to help." He absentmindedly traced the scars on the back of her hand. "I'm going to miss you, you know that?"
"I'll visit," she promised. "Trust me, once the train leaves I'll start writing you letters." She placed a hand on his arm. "I'm mostly surprised that you're going back."
"I don't think Mum would appreciate if another Weasley drops out of school." Gid shifted his weight on the hammock. "I…I almost don't want to go."
Halley's eyebrows almost reached her hairline. She didn't question it but her hand left his arm to cover his own hand. Her fingers slid through his. The callouses on her palm and fingers felt different now. They weren't from handling a broom or a quill, but from using her wand for defensive spells. "It's not going to be our Hogwarts anymore. You know that."
"Yeah," he sighed. "At least I won't be alone." A handful of the DA were coming back to school while a larger amount were going to join Halley and Rory in the Auror Program or something similar. Kingsley and the newer people in charge of the Ministry were more than ready to help new recruits integrate and to help rebuild the departments.
Even though he knew that they were going to correspond and visit often, it still worried him that they were getting back in the thick of things. Now eager to change the subject, Gid snaked an arm around her to flip a page of the album. "We were at the beach for this one."
The pictures were of him and his sisters at least a decade younger. It was low tide and the darker colours on their faces suggested that they hadn't applied enough of a sunblock potion. Rory was being chased by Felicity who had a large crab in her hands; Charlotte was burying Georgia in the sand; Priscilla was reading a book in the shade; and his dad was leading him into the water. His heart clenched at seeing this. They all just looked so young and innocent back then, and there was also the matter of seeing his dead sister laughing in the photo.
"I haven't been to the beach before, not really," Halley murmured. She leaned her back against his chest and sighed. Her fingers traced the motions of the moving tide. "It'll be nice to go sometime."
"I guess we'll have to now," promised Gid. "We'll get you better at swimming and the whole lot will come out and play."
"I'll need a new bathing suit, then." She rubbed a spot over her heart and frowned.
"How are they?" he asked softly. "Your scars. Nothing off about them, right?"
"Nothing so far." Halley checked two circular scars that were on the inside of her arm. "The healers looked over me and said that I was fine. I'm mostly worried about the last one that I got."
He knew exactly which scar that we talking about. He shook off the cold memory of what had caused that scar. "What about it? I mean, you're not a—the connection to the—" Gid couldn't make himself say the word. When she had told him everything, the part that had really got him was the fact that Tom Riddle made Horcruxes. The fact that one had fed off him, and that was what connected Halley to the dead Dark Lord brought feelings that the word fear couldn't even begin to describe.
Halley had assured him that there was nothing to worry about now. All the Horcruxes were destroyed, thus ending Tom Riddle. Even Dumbledore had told him years ago that the soul fragment no longer had a hold on him. Gid was free.
But no matter what people would tell him, it was still scary to know that another soul used to feed off of him.
"It's how it looks," she said, breaking him out of his thoughts. Halley fiddled with her glasses. "It looks more…noticeable if I wear anything else."
Gid narrowed his eyes and tried to think back to her attire since the war had ended. Plenty of cast offs and old jumpers, but he couldn't think of anything that she had wore that made the scar show. "If it's about what you wore at the creek a few days back, then trust me—you really couldn't see it."
Her tone was dry but there was a flicker of a smile. "You would know."
"It's bound to look better now." His voice sounded higher. "They fade over time."
Halley put the book to the side and started to undo the top buttons of her shirt. Maybe he had imagined this, but that didn't mean that he was going to suddenly re-enact any of those dreams. Gid averted his gaze and blushed. Think of something else, his mind urged. Great-Aunt Muriel wearing a tutu! Being chased by Filch! She only wants your opinion, you idiot… Attempting to appear inconspicuous, he tried to create some distance between them.
"Okay," Halley said. Her cheeks were bright red and he was sure that his face matched. "How bad is it?"
Taking a deep breathe and was thinking of Quidditch scores, he let himself look down. He had seen her wear swimming outfits, but those were from Rory and they didn't showed as much skin as her…Harpies are third in the league and up against…white bra did. Trying not to look as though he was leering, Gid focused his eyes on the scar that was several inches below her collarbone. There was still a good amount of colourful bruising, but it was clearing up and did looked better than it did a week ago. In the middle of the splotchy purples, there was a faint impression of the scar—a lighting bolt. It matched the one on her forehead perfectly.
He was certain that a better-fitted swimming outfit would still work at covering it up. The bruising was already clearing, and if the one on her forehead was of any indication, then the second lighting bolt should be getting fainter. She could definitely wear something like a bikini—which he probably shouldn't be thinking of her wearing.
"Sorry." Halley hurriedly buttoned her shirt. Her fingers fumbled and more of her blushing skin was covered up again. "This is bloody awkward for my…"
"Nothing to worry about," Gid croaked. "Yeah. You look good—I mean the scar—scar looks good." While backing up still, he yelped when his hand felt empty air behind him. Then whole hammock teetered dangerously to one side and his equilibrium also took a dramatic shift. The next thing he knew, Gid was on the ground, groaning at the very sudden change in his surroundings. The hammock was swinging over his head and dark hair covered the lower half of his face.
"Sorry," he mumbled and spat some of the hair out. "Slipped."
Halley turned her head and blinked owlishly at him without her glasses. She had landed on top of him. "Damn fine reflexes for the Quidditch Captain to have." She squinted. "I wish I can read the expression on your face right now."