A/N: I just realized, quite suddenly, that this fic is on the home stretch and shall be finished at 20 chapters. When it comes to this step, expect said chapters to be whipped out fairly quickly. This is good, yes?
Disclaimer: I am owned by the characters, not the other way around.
~*~
The next few months passed in a haze in the aftermath of that final battle. There were so many people on both sides, who needed to be accounted for, and the ministry was effectually dividing its time between the affairs of those who survived the ones killed in battle, and trying to stamp out any last-ditch Death Eater uprisings.
But at Hogwarts, there was a decided change in the mood.
Just as the cold, blustery winter ended, the weather gradually warming with the occasional storm but ever-increasing sunshine, the ones left behind to live... stepped out of the chilly, dark world to face the new world.
When the snow melted, Neville's greenhouses started flourishing with new, fresh plants of the springtime.
The notes continued to come. How exactly she would repay Neville and Pansy (though the first would be too kind and the second too proud to accept payment from her), she did not know.
"Dear angel,
They have taken Malfoy Manor. Pansy tells me that the Ministry had combed the old place down... looking for dark artifacts, and for me.
I cannot see you until things are cleared up. I miss you..."
His notes were always to the point, rarely full of sentimentality. Full of news, perhaps... but concise and brief. And always, towards the end, there would be something that she would be able to smile about, perhaps repeat to herself in the ever-boring History of Magic classes and cherish.
"... I WILL come back. Things won't always be this way. I'm sick of this, but it won't be much longer. And I'm going to check for myself whether you still have that little birthmark on the back of your neck. You're still mine."
Ginny waited, and continued on with her life.
~*~
It was March when 6th year Emma Dobbs of Slytherin and 7th year Ginny Weasley of Gryffindor shook hands in the middle of the Quidditch pitch.
It very well might have been the first time in a decade that a Slytherin and a Gryffindor captain gave each other civil looks before their teams faced off for a game. But, if not close, the two girls had learnt to work together.
As Cho Chang released the Quaffle and both Natalie McDonald and Emma Dobbs zoomed off for it, Professors Montague and Johnson, watching the game from the faculty stands, smiled wryly.
"I say that Gryffindor is going to win," Johnson remarked with a slight smile. "Ginny is a fairly good Seeker."
"But Gryffindor's Chasers aren't quite up to scratch this year," Montague replied with a smirk, "They are not quite as experienced as they could be."
"Slytherin's Chasers don't seem to have changed much," Angelina looked at him, her eyes slightly teasing, "Pritchard seems to find elbowing quite the useful tactic."
He gave her an infuriating, smug sort of look, "It can be."
Swatting him in the arm gently, Angelina made a face. "And here I had thought you had changed for the better."
"I have not elbowed you since we were both in school," he retorted, "And I AM a Slytherin."
"Yes, yes... ohh, that was close," for Marius MacDougal, the Slytherin Keeper, had missed a save, "Charismatic but evil, ambitious, sarcastic, that sort of thing..."
"Whereas you," he returned, clapping politely when Emma Dobbs scored, "are an innocent, idealistic, heroic angel of Gryffindor goodness, yes?"
"Is that a compliment?" she grinned at him, giving an exaggerated bat of her eyelashes.
"Take it whatever way you please," he told her with a chuckle. "And... goodness, I think they've spotted the Snitch!"
Ginny dove for the small golden sphere, Slytherin Seeker Price Barton at her heels, and got knocked out of the way by a Bludger. The Snitch disappeared again, and the game continued.
The Slytherins cheered once again when Emma Dobbs put another shot past Jerry Donnelly, the Gryffindor Keeper. Montague clapped again, and Angelina's eyes widened in surprise when she saw someone who was sitting amongst the Gryffindors, cheering as well.
"Isn't that Seamus Finnigan?" Montague, following Angelina's gaze, peered through his omniculars. "He's cheering for Slytherin... that's a first."
Had Montague taken a look at Emma's face when she flew past the Gryffindor stands, he might have understood why.
~*~
Brushing her sweat-soaked bangs away from her eyes, rubbing a sore shoulder where Malcolm Baddock had caught her with a Bludger, the Gryffindor Seeker put her broom away in the shed.
The game, long, as Gryffindor/Slytherin games have a tendency to be, was over, and it was now sunset, the sky brilliant with splashes of rose and purple, the outline of the trees like black lace against iridescent satin.
Ginny was the last of the Gryffindors to head back towards the castle, taking the extra time to put the brooms back in order, and helping Cho Chang put away the Quidditch equipment.
She had nearly reached the door when she heard the sound of footsteps thudding, running across the Quidditch pitch, light and yet fast and determined, and the sound of laughter, bright and boisterous.
She halted, under the shadow of the door, and slowly turned around. Who would laugh like that? So completely... with such FULFILLMENT? Her team had won... but even THEY were not that exuberant.
And moreover, it wasn't one of their voices.
She turned around just in time to see an emerald and silver blur, dark hair flying behind her, dashing towards a young man who had just come down from the stands, his sandy hair glinting slightly in the dying sunlight. A nymph of the dark wood coming out to embrace her knightly lover in the sunset, the man catching the girl in his arms, his face buried in her tangled hair even as she threw her arms around his neck, with the impulsive-seeming motion of forever.
And suddenly she understood why Emma Dobbs was crying and laughing that other day, when she heard that her parents were dead.
It was the natural reaction, after all.
Of someone caught in the web of fear and intrigue and forbidden desires, of against-the-odds and shouldn't-be that was wartime passion...
Free.
She smiled at the back of her oblivious rival captain, and quietly stepped inside the castle. It would not be long before her own turn would come.
Disclaimer: I am owned by the characters, not the other way around.
~*~
The next few months passed in a haze in the aftermath of that final battle. There were so many people on both sides, who needed to be accounted for, and the ministry was effectually dividing its time between the affairs of those who survived the ones killed in battle, and trying to stamp out any last-ditch Death Eater uprisings.
But at Hogwarts, there was a decided change in the mood.
Just as the cold, blustery winter ended, the weather gradually warming with the occasional storm but ever-increasing sunshine, the ones left behind to live... stepped out of the chilly, dark world to face the new world.
When the snow melted, Neville's greenhouses started flourishing with new, fresh plants of the springtime.
The notes continued to come. How exactly she would repay Neville and Pansy (though the first would be too kind and the second too proud to accept payment from her), she did not know.
"Dear angel,
They have taken Malfoy Manor. Pansy tells me that the Ministry had combed the old place down... looking for dark artifacts, and for me.
I cannot see you until things are cleared up. I miss you..."
His notes were always to the point, rarely full of sentimentality. Full of news, perhaps... but concise and brief. And always, towards the end, there would be something that she would be able to smile about, perhaps repeat to herself in the ever-boring History of Magic classes and cherish.
"... I WILL come back. Things won't always be this way. I'm sick of this, but it won't be much longer. And I'm going to check for myself whether you still have that little birthmark on the back of your neck. You're still mine."
Ginny waited, and continued on with her life.
~*~
It was March when 6th year Emma Dobbs of Slytherin and 7th year Ginny Weasley of Gryffindor shook hands in the middle of the Quidditch pitch.
It very well might have been the first time in a decade that a Slytherin and a Gryffindor captain gave each other civil looks before their teams faced off for a game. But, if not close, the two girls had learnt to work together.
As Cho Chang released the Quaffle and both Natalie McDonald and Emma Dobbs zoomed off for it, Professors Montague and Johnson, watching the game from the faculty stands, smiled wryly.
"I say that Gryffindor is going to win," Johnson remarked with a slight smile. "Ginny is a fairly good Seeker."
"But Gryffindor's Chasers aren't quite up to scratch this year," Montague replied with a smirk, "They are not quite as experienced as they could be."
"Slytherin's Chasers don't seem to have changed much," Angelina looked at him, her eyes slightly teasing, "Pritchard seems to find elbowing quite the useful tactic."
He gave her an infuriating, smug sort of look, "It can be."
Swatting him in the arm gently, Angelina made a face. "And here I had thought you had changed for the better."
"I have not elbowed you since we were both in school," he retorted, "And I AM a Slytherin."
"Yes, yes... ohh, that was close," for Marius MacDougal, the Slytherin Keeper, had missed a save, "Charismatic but evil, ambitious, sarcastic, that sort of thing..."
"Whereas you," he returned, clapping politely when Emma Dobbs scored, "are an innocent, idealistic, heroic angel of Gryffindor goodness, yes?"
"Is that a compliment?" she grinned at him, giving an exaggerated bat of her eyelashes.
"Take it whatever way you please," he told her with a chuckle. "And... goodness, I think they've spotted the Snitch!"
Ginny dove for the small golden sphere, Slytherin Seeker Price Barton at her heels, and got knocked out of the way by a Bludger. The Snitch disappeared again, and the game continued.
The Slytherins cheered once again when Emma Dobbs put another shot past Jerry Donnelly, the Gryffindor Keeper. Montague clapped again, and Angelina's eyes widened in surprise when she saw someone who was sitting amongst the Gryffindors, cheering as well.
"Isn't that Seamus Finnigan?" Montague, following Angelina's gaze, peered through his omniculars. "He's cheering for Slytherin... that's a first."
Had Montague taken a look at Emma's face when she flew past the Gryffindor stands, he might have understood why.
~*~
Brushing her sweat-soaked bangs away from her eyes, rubbing a sore shoulder where Malcolm Baddock had caught her with a Bludger, the Gryffindor Seeker put her broom away in the shed.
The game, long, as Gryffindor/Slytherin games have a tendency to be, was over, and it was now sunset, the sky brilliant with splashes of rose and purple, the outline of the trees like black lace against iridescent satin.
Ginny was the last of the Gryffindors to head back towards the castle, taking the extra time to put the brooms back in order, and helping Cho Chang put away the Quidditch equipment.
She had nearly reached the door when she heard the sound of footsteps thudding, running across the Quidditch pitch, light and yet fast and determined, and the sound of laughter, bright and boisterous.
She halted, under the shadow of the door, and slowly turned around. Who would laugh like that? So completely... with such FULFILLMENT? Her team had won... but even THEY were not that exuberant.
And moreover, it wasn't one of their voices.
She turned around just in time to see an emerald and silver blur, dark hair flying behind her, dashing towards a young man who had just come down from the stands, his sandy hair glinting slightly in the dying sunlight. A nymph of the dark wood coming out to embrace her knightly lover in the sunset, the man catching the girl in his arms, his face buried in her tangled hair even as she threw her arms around his neck, with the impulsive-seeming motion of forever.
And suddenly she understood why Emma Dobbs was crying and laughing that other day, when she heard that her parents were dead.
It was the natural reaction, after all.
Of someone caught in the web of fear and intrigue and forbidden desires, of against-the-odds and shouldn't-be that was wartime passion...
Free.
She smiled at the back of her oblivious rival captain, and quietly stepped inside the castle. It would not be long before her own turn would come.