A/N: I will be away for 10 days, during which time I will be unable to update – but upon my return you shall have the remaining 9 chapters – never fear 😊
Chapter 10. See Me
Ginny had forgotten what a good cook her mother was. She had forgotten a lot of things. Like the way Sunday lunch at The Burrow made everyone smile. And the way her dad's eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed. Like the way Bill chuckled whenever her mother told Charlie he needed a haircut. And the way Charlie punched Bill's arm when he finally got away from their mother. Like the way George put Wheezes in Percy's drink when he wasn't looking. And the way Percy pretended he didn't have blue antennae sticking out of his scalp.
Like the way no one ever saw Harry without Ron and Hermione.
There were some things Ginny remembered clearly though. Like the way Harry's messy hair fell into his eyes (even if it was a little limp). And the way his long fingers closed around his wand (or the knife her mother offered him). Like the way he smiled at her father when he explained about eckeltrickery (again). And the way his lips moved as he demonstrated what a microphone was for.
Like the way she'd always wanted to kiss him.
Ginny hadn't seen Albert since she'd fallen asleep in her mother's sitting room. That had been nearly a week ago and Ginny began to wonder if she'd dreamt the kind wizard with hair like Ron's and eyes like her mother. Her stitches were due to come out the next day and Ginny didn't know how she was going to face the doctor without Albert there to hold her hand. He had such lovely hands. His long fingers closed around hers so comfortably when he held her hand.
And she was sure he'd been stroking her hair as she fell asleep.
But she didn't know how to contact him. She didn't know if he would want her to. She didn't know if she really wanted to. The person she still really wanted was Harry. Who was sitting at the table. In the same seat Albert had sat in. Bouncing his leg up and down. The way Albert had.
"So, what did you do to your hand?" Ron asked.
Harry tapped his fingers on the table. The way Albert had. Ginny didn't answer Ron. She stared at Harry's long fingers. Tapping on the table. Ron waved his hands in front of Ginny impatiently. He raised an eyebrow at her. Asking his question again silently. Ginny had forgotten the question and stared at his hair.
The same colour as Albert's.
"She cut herself at work," her mother said.
Her father said something about her stitches, but Ginny wasn't listening. She was staring at Harry's fingers as they closed around his drink. Watching as they clutched the glass. The way Albert had clutched the Portkeys George had sent her. With his owl. The owl that only flew to people it knew.
The owl that flew to Albert.
Ginny raised her eyes to Harry's face. He was looking at her bandaged hand. He looked sad. Like the way Albert had when he'd been unable to heal her. His green eyes blinked as he raised his eyes to hers and he smiled softly. He looked different to last week when she'd come to The Burrow. Thinner. Happier.
Sadder.
Ginny knew how it felt to be happy and at the same time. It was how she felt when she switched on a light bulb. Happy because she had light. Sad because she couldn't do Lumos. It was how she felt when it rained. Happy because she loved the rain. Sad because it made the puddle outside her gate bigger. It was how she felt when she looked at Harry. Happy because she was near him. Sad because she knew she would never be his.
Ginny wondered what made Harry happy and sad all at the same time.
Maybe it was treacle tart. Happy because he loved it. Sad because it meant lunch was almost over. Maybe it was Quidditch. Happy because he enjoyed Quidditch. Sad because he was always destined to be an Auror. Maybe it was petunias. Happy because they were colourful and bright. Sad because they reminded him of his stupid Muggle aunt. Harry always scowled at petunias. Just like Albert had.
Ginny wondered if Harry was Albert.
But she didn't say anything. She just watched. And listened. Her father talked about a memo mix up at the Ministry (when he got all Mildred Scopes's memos). Her mother talked about the new season apples (and pie-making). Bill talked about his vegetable patch (which surprised everybody). Charlie talked about dragons (because he never talked about anything else). Percy talked about parchment thicknesses (no one thought he could talk about anything else). George talked about painting the shop electric blue (or neon pink, he couldn't decide). Ron talked about going to the next Quidditch match (until he remembered it was a Harpies match). All the conversation stopped. Everyone looked at Ginny.
Ginny looked at her plate.
"I think the latch on the back gate needs fixing," Harry said.
Ginny was thankful for the change of subject. Ron said the latch always needed fixing. George said Harry was the only one who used the back gate anyway. Her mother began to berate him for the petrified gnome. Percy started lecturing Charlie about parchment lengths. Hermione started advising Bill about planting vegetables. Ginny watched Harry's hands twist his napkin into an intricate knot. He smiled at her. And she smiled back because he had rescued her.
Just like Albert had.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Harry had forgotten what a terrible cook Hermione was. He had forgotten a lot of things. Like the way Sunday lunch was respite from Hermione's burnt offerings. And the way Molly Weasley looked at him when she thought he was too thin. Like the way Ron laughed whenever Hermione tried to help in the kitchen. And the way Hermione punched Ron's arm for laughing. Like the way George gave Percy Wheezes for dessert. And the way Percy summoned the cure from George's pocket.
Like the way Ginny conspired with George to stick Percy to his chair.
There were some things Harry remembered clearly though. Like the way Ginny's hair swung around her shoulders (even if it was the wrong colour). And the way her fingers curled around her cutlery (or her goblet). Like the way she smiled at her father when he asked her about bendy straws (again). And the way her lips closed over the end of the straw as she demonstrated how to use it.
Like the way he'd always wanted to kiss her.
Harry hadn't seen Ginny since she'd fallen asleep in his arms. That had been nearly a week ago and Harry began to wonder if he'd dreamt the way she'd needed him that day. Her stitches must be due to come out soon and Harry didn't know if she had anyone to go with her. To hold her hand. She had such lovely, small hands. They fit so nicely in his. Harry didn't know how to ask if she needed him.
Or if she wanted him.
But he didn't know how to ask. To see if she needed someone. To see if she needed him. He didn't know if she wanted to see Albert. Because 'Albert' hadn't contacted her. Maybe she hated Albert now too. Not that Harry wanted her to like Albert more than him. He wanted her to want Harry. Not Albert.
"When are you going back to work?" Percy asked.
Harry stopped moving. He didn't answer. Ginny stared at Harry. She raised her eyebrow in question. Percy cleared his throat. He eyed Harry impatiently. Asking his question again. Everyone was silent. Looking at Harry. Waiting for an explanation. No one knew Harry wasn't going to work.
Except Ron and Hermione.
"Soon," Harry said.
Ron said something about holiday time, but Harry wasn't listening. He was staring at Ginny's hands. Watching as she clutched her napkin in her uninjured hand. The way she clutched her buckled, brown handbag. Like it was shielding her. Or protecting her.
Perhaps from him.
Harry raised his eyes to Ginny's face. She was looking at him. She looked thoughtful. Like the way she looked when she was reading a book. Her brown eyes studied him carefully as he raised his eyes to hers and she smiled. She looked different to last week when she'd come to The Burrow. Secure. Safe.
Home.
Harry knew how it felt to be safe and home. It was how he felt when he was with Ron and Hermione. Safe because they showed they loved him. Home because they wouldn't turn him away. It was how he felt when he came to The Burrow. Safe because Molly treated him like her own. Home because she made him chop vegetables too. It was how he felt when he looked at Ginny. Safe because she was near him. Home because it was wherever she was.
Harry wondered what made Ginny feel safe and at home.
Maybe it was her mother. Safe because she took care of them all. Home because that is what mothers were. Maybe it was Bill. Safe because he was her biggest brother. Home because that's what she would find in his arms. Maybe it was The Burrow. Safe because she grew up here. Home because it was always where she was welcome. Ginny loved The Burrow.
Just like Harry did.
Harry didn't move when everyone started to clear the table. Ginny was watching him. She looked as though she was trying to decide something. Ron and Charlie were setting up a chess game (even though they all knew Ron would win). Hermione offered to help Molly with the dishes (because it was the only thing her mother-in-law let her do in the kitchen). Percy went to do the books (for George's shop). George slipped out to fix the gnome he'd petrified (but only because Molly had threatened him). Arthur wandered out to his shed (while everyone pretended he wasn't going to play with the batteries Ginny had brought). Ginny watched Harry (intently). Harry just watched her too (wondering what she was thinking). Then he realised everyone had gone. They were alone.
Harry wondered if she knew he was Albert.
"Would you like to go for a walk?" Ginny asked.
Harry nodded. Ginny slipped away quietly to the back door. Harry followed her. They stood on the back porch for a moment. Harry watched Ginny's hands twist together and he reached out to gently pull her hands apart. Her hands felt wonderful resting in his own. He raised his head to look at her. And he knew that she knew who Albert was. And she didn't seem angry at all. Instead, she kissed him.
And he kissed her back.