A/N: My favourite pairing is Harry/Ginny. This one was bouncing in my mind for quite some time now.
Disclaimer: Everything, everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing the characters for short while.
- Ginny -
A young couple lay in their bedroom, blissfully locked in an eternal embrace of love. Rays of silver moonlight percolated in the room through adjacent windows, lighting up the cozy bed and its surrounding expanse.
Ginny Weasley lay sprawled on the king-sized bed with Harry Potter, one hand around his waist and another stroking his hair. She stared at his visage; his emerald eyes blissfully hidden behind closed eyelids, his shock of raven hair in a mess, his chiseled face with a strong jaw, and his famous scar once prominent, was now nothing more than a thin unnoticeable line.
She reflected on the past few years. She had fancied Harry for years and continued to harbor feelings for the boy even while dating others. She watched him from afar, jealous of Cho Chang, jealous of all the other girls vying for his attention.
But then, in her fifth year (his sixth), he'd finally noticed her. She had seen him checking her out a few times, but didn't think much of it. When Harry kissed her in front of the Gryffindor Common Room, her world had dissolved in bliss. Her dreams had finally come true. Their relationship was like a wave of euphoria in the middle of dark times. The way Harry looked at her, and the way she felt about him made her think that this was more than just a school romance.
Then the war happened. Too much happened with her, with Harry, and with so many others. When Fred died, a part of Ginny died with him.
After Voldemort's downfall, what followed were the numerous funerals which seem to make her even more depressed. The bright, vivacious girl within her had been reduced to mere shell of her former self. For weeks, she spent her time moping around, doing her usual chores, eating, sleeping and everything else but with a listless abandon.
It was her Harry that brought her out of this self-imposed isolation. Slowly but surely, he gently and lovingly coaxed her away from dark thoughts, always listening to her when she wanted to vent her feelings or lending a shoulder to cry upon.
Until that time, she always knew that she was in love with him. But after the war, her feelings had turned into need. She needed to be with him, to kiss him, to hug him, to hold him and to make love. She knew for certain that she couldn't live without him.
Eventually, Harry had joined the Auror forces along with Ron, while she and Hermione went back to Hogwarts for their final year. They could only meet during the Hogsmeade weekends. How she got through her last year without Harry was beyond her.
When her training with the Holyhead Harpies had begun, she had moved in with Harry. What followed was a shouting match with her mother, with Harry and Arthur staying wisely out of the way. In the end, Molly had reluctantly agreed, with the motherly threat of having them at least twice a week for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Her past year had been nothing short of domestic bliss. Getting up in the morning everyday to see his face, having him so close to her, talking and making love. Going on picnics, or to a Muggle cinema, or to a fancy restaurant; Harry was the happiest she had seen him.
In her mind, she had already married Harry. Even so, it was a heart-stopping moment last night when he had finally popped the question to her. I can't believe I'm engaged to Harry, she thought, gazing with pleasure at the emerald ring on her hand.
Turning back to Harry, she traced his scar with a thumb, making him shift in his sleep. His eyes fluttered open sleepily, gazing down at her.
"Hey," he said softly, stifling a yawn.
"Hey yourself," she replied fondly, stroking his hair.
"Couldn't sleep?" he mumbled sleepily, turning on the bed to face her.
"Something like that..." she said, getting lost in his soulful eyes.
There was a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Then Harry muttered, "Great, now I can't go back to sleep."
Ginny chuckled. She checked out her ring again, glinting in the pale lunar glow pouring through the windows. She turned to look at Harry, finding him studying her.
"You look so beautiful," he whispered, making her smile. She leaned forward and captured his lips in a soft kiss.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked, snuggling into Harry's chest.
"Oh, just how the most gorgeous woman I've come across can agree to marry scrawny old me," murmured Harry, slipping an arm around her waist.
Ginny let out a muffled giggle, feeling safe in her Harry's arms.
"You weren't that scrawny," whispered Ginny, drawing random patterns on Harry's stomach, making him shiver.
Harry turned to look at her. "Are you kidding? I was all skin and bones when I came to Hogwarts. In fact, Pomfrey once told me I was the skinniest child she'd ever seen."
What could she say to that? It was true that Harry was painfully thin when he was eleven. It took him a long time to get adjusted to a good diet, allowing him to put on a fair bit of muscle and fat. Even so, his health and physique was defined by a certain wiry strength to it, a sinewy build that had become a trademark look of his.
They were quiet for a while. Ginny wanted to broach a topic to Harry, but found very little time in their daily lives to actually sit and talk about serious stuff.
Deciding to be a bit forward, she said, "Harry?"
"Hmm?"
"There's something we've never talked about, the two of us."
"What's that?"
She hesitated. Knowing that this was a very difficult topic, she said in a gentle tone, "Love, we've never talked about your life before Hogwarts."
Harry stiffened, releasing his grip around her and peering into her brown eyes. "Why do you want to talk about it now?"
"No reason in particular," replied Ginny, running a hand across his chest and making him shudder. "It's just...you mentioned about being malnourished when you came to Hogwarts. It made me think…it made me think that we've never sat down and have a conversation about it." She placed a hand on his cheek, gazing back at him lovingly. "Love, until a few hours ago, we were only dating, you know. Now we're engaged. I'm going to be your wife, and you're going to be my husband."
Her fiancé didn't reply, so she continued lowly, "Harry, you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to. I'm never going to judge you if you don't, you know that right? I'm not pressurizing you or anything."
Again, Harry didn't say anything for a long time. Then, he eventually spoke, "Gin, it's not that I don't want to tell you. It's just, well, this is not an easy topic for me to talk about…"
"I know, I know," she hastened to comfort him, cupping his face with her hands. "Like I said, you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to."
Harry sighed. For years, he had tried putting his past behind him. But as time passed, he realized that it was a part of him, his personality, his mannerisms. Did Ginny deserve to know about his childhood? She had done so much for him, given him so much love and made him so happy, that she deserved everything he could give her.
"What happens when I tell you?" he asked, a bit like a petulant child.
"Nothing happens, Harry," she replied calmly. "We are going to stay engaged and get married soon, if that's what you're wondering," she continued with an impish smile, which made Harry crack a weak grin. "I just wonder sometimes, have you ever talked about this with anyone? Ron, Hermione? Or Sirius?"
"Dumbledore knew about my home situation, although I dunno how much he knew," said Harry thoughtfully.
Ginny nodded. "I personally think that talking about it will help. Maybe it will help you reflect on the 'you' of eleven years ago, and the 'you' of now. Maybe it will help you take a load off of your shoulders. Or just share your thoughts and feelings," she said softly.
He seemed to think for a moment, then let out a breath. "Fine. Fine, but do you promise not to tell anyone?"
"I'm going to be your wife, Harry," replied Ginny softly. "What kind of partner would I be if I break your confidence and betray you? Your secrets are my secrets, which I will happily carry with me to the grave."
"Okay," said Harry, looking mollified. They were quiet for a long time.
Then, Harry took a long shuddering breath and spoke, "Okay. Okay, I'll tell you about my childhood."
Ginny nodded encouragingly, running her hands along Harry's arms.
Haltingly, Harry started talking. Initially, he spoke at length about some of his earliest memories. Flashbacks of his early childhood, spending quite a lot of time in the cupboard under the stairs. Not being fed properly, made to cook breakfast before he could talk coherently, punishing him when he broke something. His first bout of accidental magic, and how Vernon had been especially furious. Visits from Marge Dursley and her horrendous dogs, how Dudley and his friends regularly beat him up at school, at the park or just on the street.
Once he started talking, he couldn't stop. Flashes of his past kept knocking at the forefront of his mind, making him remember all he had gone through. All the while, Ginny never interrupted him, letting him pour his life story onto her. Harry mostly talked while staring at the ceiling. At times, he would sneak glances at his wife-to-be, and only saw encouragement and acceptance in her eyes.
Internally though, was a different matter altogether. Ginny was struggling to fight a losing battle with her resolve. She dearly wished she could go back in time and harm the Dursleys for what they had done to her man. She wished she could hold the scared little boy and let him know everything was going to be alright; to feed him properly, to dress him with proper clothes, to give him all the happiness.
How could someone be so cruel to their own flesh and blood? How could they harm him so much and get away with it? How dare they treat Harry like this and still call themselves parents to a child?
After talking continuously for two hours, Harry finally stopped. At some point, Ginny had sat up on the bed, pulling Harry's head onto her lap. She gently ran her fingers through his hair which seemed to calm him.
Getting up, he reached out and grabbed the glass of water beside the bed, drinking from it thirstily. Talking for a long time had left him quite hoarse. He turned on the lamp beside the bed.
Returning to Ginny, he leaned his back against the headboard. "That's pretty much it, Gin. I don't think I've left out anything…"
Ginny looked up to him to match his gaze. To his consternation, tears were streaming down her cheeks, her eyes beginning to look slightly blotchy.
"How?" she choked out, tightening the grip on his arm.
Harry blinked. "Sorry?"
"How have you never snapped? How, after going through so much, did you turn out to be so kind? How have you never folded and given up?"
Harry returned her anguished look with a neutral one. "I dunno, Gin. It actually wasn't so bad, all things considered. I mean sure, they punished me a bit, but that was because I was dropped on their doorstep without any warning, and-"
"Harry," said Ginny with forced calmness. "Let me make one thing clear. From now on, you never defend the Dursleys. Ever. Do you hear me?"
When Harry didn't reply back, Ginny sighed and shifted on the bed so that she was sitting on Harry's lap, her legs on either side of him. She cupped his face with her hands, and his arms automatically went around her. Brown eyes bored into green eyes with abundant warmth and tenderness.
"When I was growing up, my mum use to sing me lullabies when I couldn't sleep. She used to tuck me in every night and tell me how much she loved me. My dad used to hug and kiss my cheek each morning, calling me his little 'Pumpkin'. Bill used to hold me when I got scared of thunderstorms, while Charlie used to tell me stories of the Boy-Who-Lived and of dragons and nundus. Fred and George made me laugh, while Ron played dolls with me all the time. Even Percy, who was standoffish, once actually saved me from drowning in the nearby pond."
Ginny's face was quite close to Harry's now, so much so that he could count the freckles on her face in the moonlit room. "That is what families do, Harry. We might've never had much money, and their were quite a lot of fights and quarrels, but their was also plenty of fondness and laughter in the house. And after the war, we've all grown closer, if such a thing was possible."
Harry dropped his hands from her waist, looking down. Ginny traced her hand along his jawline, willing him to look at her, giving him a hard, blazing look that he loved. "What I'm trying to say, Harry, is that the Durselys should have never treated you as they did. So please, for my sanity's sake, never justify their actions. They were – are – animals, and they always will be," she said, moving her hands around his neck. "You have no idea how wretched I feel on your behalf. To imagine you sitting alone in that tiny cupboard, hungry, thirsty and yearning for someone to come and take you away. I feel foolish, helpless that I could never help you."
She leaned forwards and gave him a long, searing kiss.
When they separated, she continued gently, "You know what amazes me?" She moved her right hand to place it on his chest, right on top of his heart. "After going through so much, after years of torment, and death-defying seven years of schooling, along with the war, having to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, dying and coming back, and defeating the bastard, you're still a kind, compassionate, caring man. Not to mention drop-dead gorgeous," she said huskily, making him blush slightly, even though both were gazing into each other's eyes, lost to the world.
"Not that I had much of a choice now, did I?" he asked in a slightly bitter tone.
"You always have a choice, Harry. You could have chosen to never come to Hogwarts. You could've opted for a different school to go to. You might have left the country when Voldemort came back. Hell, you could've given up everything. But you didn't. You chose to stay back, to fight for all your worth until the very end. You never gave up. You have grown up to be so loving, stubborn, noble...I-I can't come up with more adjectives to describe how I feel about you, Harry."
Harry looked into her eyes, stunned into silence, his eyes becoming slightly moist. She bit her lip, imploring him to understand. "I know you've been deprived of love in your childhood, Harry. But no more. There are people around who love you. Ron and Hermione love you. Mum and Dad love you. My brothers, even though they're rather overprotective of me, still love you. Teddy and Andi love you. All our friends including Neville, Luna, Hagrid and others love you. James and Lily loved you. Sirius loved you like a son. Dumbledore also loved you."
Harry was slightly mesmerized by her little speech. They had declared their love for each other a while back, of course. But he was still getting used to someone telling him that they loved him. No one had voiced any of this to him before. Her declaration made his heart beat faster, and something stirred in his chest that promised more, so much more. Locking eyes with her, he said quietly, "And you?"
"More than you could ever know," she said almost in a whisper, touching his forehead with hers. "I love you so much it hurts sometimes. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life proving it to you."
Ginny smashed her lips upon Harry, caressing them gently with hers, her hands roaming in his hair, on his chest, around his neck. His hands meanwhile, roamed on her back and on her legs. Tongues battled for dominance in their passionate kiss, as lust and desire intermingled with a boundless love.
After what seemed like ages, they finally broke apart, both panting heavily, both highly aroused. Harry gazed dumbstruck into the eyes of the woman he loved, wondering again what he deserved to have someone like her in his life.
"Wow!" breathed Harry, as Ginny purred back at him, both blown away by the intensity of the snog. She eventually settled by his side, snuggling in his embrace.
Back when he'd dated Ginny in his sixth year, had been some of the happiest days of his life. He didn't realize it, but that had began Harry's long and steady journey towards self-healing. And most, if not all credit went to the incredible woman beside him all the way.
He gently pressed his lips to her forehead, murmuring, "I love you too."
FIN