A/N: For those who don't follow me on tumblr at NuAtTheBeach (what are you doing with yourself?), I'll be posting some of my tumblr drabbles, headcanons, fics, and other things that I posted there so that way y'all can see my work without having to scroll all the way down to see it.
I'm not posting ALL of them here (only because I want to maintain SOME level of quality here, lmao), so if you want to see my full collection of opinions/thoughts I have regarding Hinny (e.g. its relation to Taylor Swift songs, "memes" of Harry's reactions toward Ginny constantly and irrevocably blowing his gd mind, how I dislike the movies' treatment of them, or me just ranting about how Ginny deserved better), follow me there!
Keep in mind that these are mainly self-indulgent fics, or things that don't necessarily have a plot, but I thought they were cute enough that I wanted to share anyways!
Bonus: the stuff I put here may be slightly higher quality than they are on tumblr just because I'm editing them as I post here to make it a little more readable.
(Yes, the title is called Daylight because of Taylor Swift's Lover album - if you were on my tumblr, you'd know why I feel so passionate that it is the Hinny song).
Feel free to review and all that jazz :)
It was the middle of peak summer, the hottest Harry had ever felt, even if he was in Ron's bedroom currently, but Harry couldn't nearly give his body temperature enough consideration and care that it deserved as he listened to the way Mrs. Weasley screamed for Ginny to come down to help her in the kitchen with the dishes.
Slightly disappointed at the prospect of Ginny leaving him even if it was for a handful of minutes at a time (she was just in the middle of telling him one of her jokes and his lips had preemptively prepared themselves to laugh as they usually did when he hears her punchlines), he watched as Ginny dropped her wand in complaint onto his (Ron's) bedside table without thinking or empathizing with the sporadic nature his brain would quickly and suddenly discombobulate into.
Her wand. Was right next to Harry's.
Momentarily distracted by the light clang-like sound the two wands made as they knocked against each other, Harry became lost in his thoughts, gazing at the woody ridges of his wand and how they complemented her smooth, curvature ones, how their patterns couldn't be further different from one another even though the strokes of the handle angled toward each other just so, as if interlacing fingers, how he'd never seen such a uniform pitch black-as-night wand before and how it intrigued him because it screamed with simplicity - the complete juxtaposition of everything he knew about Ginny -
but mostly how interesting the two wands looked next to each other, hers slightly longer than his, and how he couldn't help but think of more instances when she'd knock her wand against his on a bedside table in this strange, tangible moment of domesticity -
"Yeah, she has an annoying habit of doing that when she leaves the room." Ron interrupted his increasingly dangerous thoughts, causing Harry's eyes to snap up to his. "The last time she almost set Dean's hair on fire because of the sparks their wands let out, crazy she is."
Harry snorted in response, trying not to think about how much he wouldn't mind if his own hair lit up every now and then, if it meant Ginny would only want to place her wand next to his instead.