Title: A Story For Angel

Summary Harry tells his eldest child the story of how he and her mother got together.

Disclaimer: I own Angelina, Tamika, Fred and George Potter, and the spell used to defeat Voldemort.

Author's Notes: I was inspired to write this by a Sailor Moon Song. You can yell at me later. The lyrics are at the bottom.


Harry kissed his teenage daughter on the forehead gently. "Good night, my Angel." He said fondly.

"'Night Dad. Um, can I ask you a question?" The brunette 15-year-old sat up in bed, her long hair streaming to her waist, cinnamon-brown eyes full of curiosity.

Harry moved to sit on the chair next to her bed. "Sure, Angel. What's wrong?"

"Were…" Angelina fiddled with the lace on her bedspread nervously, "were you and Mama best friends in school?" It was obvious she expected him to say yes, and that she was preparing for the heartbreak such words would cause.

Harry sighed; he knew where this was going. Angelina had expressed, rather blatantly, too, her intense like for Rayne Lupin, Nymphadora and Remus's boy.

Rayne, however, thought she was an immature child, and never stopped allowing his disdain to show. He also played pranks on Angelina whenever he could, but, because of her crush, Angelina didn't reciprocate. The only thing they were united in was their quest to bring down Hermione's know-it-all daughter Circe.

"No, actually, we weren't."

Angelina blinked in shock. "You weren't? But…you and Mama…"

"Well, we didn't hate each other, but we weren't friends either. You see, I was best friends with Ron, and as your Mum's Ron's younger sister, I could never really get past seeing her as little Ginny Weasley. We talked, and we had stuff in common, but we were never more than acquaintances." Harry replied.

"So…nothing?" Angelina asked, looking rather disappointed.

"Oh, no, not nothing. I just didn't know it then."

"So when did you know? That you loved Mama, I mean? Did she tell you? Is that how you found out?" Angelina asked eagerly, obviously interested in the story for its own sake now.

"Not really. It was nearly the end of the battle against Voldemort…"


Harry staggered as Voldemort sent another curse his way, barely ducking. His body was a mass of screaming nerves from the countless times he'd suffered the Cruciatus Curse, and his mind was not much better. For over four hours Voldemort had been killing him slowly with images of the imminent rape, torture, and destruction of his friends and loved ones.

"Face it, Potter, you could never win against me!" Voldemort cackled. "You're pathetic, weak, human. Your emotions will always get the better of you! Fool! Believing that love could conquer me! Love!"

At that moment, Harry had an epiphany. Voldemort was right. He couldn't defeat him. He didn't know how.

Just as he was about to give up, he felt a warm hand slip into his. His mind, open and laid bare from the continued assaults on it, was suddenly soothed by a gentle presence.

The presence brought up all of his happy memories, the day Hagrid told him he was a wizard, the day he became friends with Ron, his friendship with Hermione, Sirius's offer of a place to live, and all his friends flashed through his mind. Neville, Dean, Seamus, the twins, Parvati, Lavender, Bill, Charlie, even Percy. The echoes of his parents telling him they loved him, and even further back, a memory he'd never seen before, of his mother rocking him, and singing a lullaby. Of Remus playing 'This Little Piggy'. Of James and Sirius tickling him until he squealed.

Any memories of love and happiness were brought to the fore, softly sapping away the sadness and the pain his body was experiencing, getting rid of the exhaustion and feeling of defeat.

Shocked, Harry turned his head, and saw Ginny smiling up at him, her face dirty, a cut above her right eyebrow oozing blood, her long hair singed and smeared with blood, dirt, potions, and other things Harry didn't want to think of.

"You can do it, Harry." She whispered. "We can do it."

"Step aside, silly girl! Unless you wish to die first!" Voldemort screamed.

Ginny focused her eyes on him. "You say love can't defeat you? That's what defeated you last time! Lily Potter's love for her son tore you from your body. And her legacy will live on, and you will die."

Ginny pushed more memories into Harry's head, memories of her own childhood, of the love Molly had displayed for her children, of the first time she'd heard the story of Harry Potter, and how Molly had said she wished she knew where the poor boy was because he deserved to know what his parents had been like. She let him feel her love for him, and he knew, in that moment, that she didn't care for him as a friend or as a sister, but as a lover. She wanted to marry him, to have his children, or even to just be with him forever; in any way he'd let her.

Dimly, as if it was no consequence, he saw Voldemort fall to his knees. He wondered why, then realised it was because he, Harry, was using Leglimency on Voldemort…all the emotions and images Ginny was encouraging being forced into the Dark Lord's mind.

Ginny tightened her hand on his. "Now." She whispered. "Do it now."

Nodding, Harry steeled himself, then began to speak softly in Portuguese, a spell long since forgotten. It was only Ginny and Hermione's endless work that had helped him to find the spell he needed to get rid of Voldemort once and for all.

"O que uma vez esteve feito agora esteve desfeito." 'What was once done, now undone.' Harry began, hands glowing white.

"A Terra de mãe, toma costas o corpo longo desde que morto." 'Mother Earth, take back the body long since dead.' Already, he could feel his strength and magic waning, this spell took a lot of energy, and could only be performed once a century.

"Os Deuses de inferno, recobram seu presa, longo negado." 'Hell Gods, retrieve your prey, long denied.' He staggered, and was suddenly filled with more strength. Beside him, Ginny paled.

"Os deuses acima, ouvem meu chamado." 'Gods above, hear my call.'

"Os deuses embaixo, escutam meu apelo." 'Gods below, listen to my plea.'

"Livre-nos do monstro que chama se Tom de Marvolo de Riddle. O herdeiro de Slytherin, Senhor de Escuridão, o Senhor de Voldemort . Traga justiça sobre seu servente, ajuda restaura o equilíbrio, permite esses descansaá-lquem muito tempo foi negado!" 'Rid us of the monster who calls himself Tom Marvolo Riddle. Heir of Slytherin, Lord of Darkness, the Lord Voldemort. Bring justice upon your servant, help restore the balance, allow those to rest who have long been denied!' Harry roared. The magic between Ginny and Harry reached its peak, before it went beyond it. Ginny and Harry screamed, torn between pain and pleasure, then, there was darkness.


"Then what?" Angelina asked, eyes wide. "You guys didn't die, did you!"

Harry shot her a look, and she smiled sheepishly. "No, Angel, we didn't die, as you can clearly see." He replied.


"Harry? Harry? Wake up. Please wake up, Harry."

Harry groaned, cracking open his eyes, before closing them again, wincing at the light.

Immediately, someone dimmed it. "Would you like a glass of water?" They asked.

Harry nodded, finding his throat unbearably sore.

A glass of what he assumed was water was placed against his lips, and Harry sighed in relief as the cool liquid soothed the ache.

He opened his eyes fully, and was surprised to see Ginny leaning over him, her previously long hair cut short in a wavy bob which swung around the curve of her face. The cut above her eye had healed, leaving behind a pale scar, and her cheekbones stood out in her thin face. "Ginny?" He croaked.

Ginny smiled, nodding.

Harry was glad to see the adorable dimple in her left cheek hadn't disappeared. He then promptly pushed thoughts about her dimple out of his head, sitting up. "What happened?" He demanded. "Did we win?"

"Shhhh," Ginny soothed, sitting down beside him and pushing him back down into the pillows. Fondly, she stroked his head. "Yes, Harry, we won. Voldemort's gone for good this time."

"Thank Merlin." Harry said.

"Indeed. And you don't have to worry about the media, they're to keep away from you upon pain of death." Ginny's sweet face hardened for a moment, before it slipped back into the soft, loving expression she'd had since he woke up.

"Who told them that?" Harry asked, astonished.

"I did. I knew you wouldn't want to talk to them. Besides, my account was just as easy to give as yours would have been, since I was standing right beside you." Ginny leant over him, her small breasts brushing against his chest as she picked up three potion vials.

Unexpectedly, Harry felt his breath quicken. Resolutely, he shoved the reaction away. He couldn't be feeling those sorts of things for Ginny Weasley! She was his best friend's little sister!

"Here, you have to take these." Ginny said, handing him the vials and helping him to sit up.

Quickly, Harry took the potions, shuddering at the taste. He felt the pain in his back begin to fade, and the marching band which had taken up residence in his head decided to leave. "Thanks." He said. "For making sure the media wouldn't bother me and all."

"That's alright, Harry." Ginny said, "I was happy to."

"Why did you do it, though?" Harry asked.

"Do what?" Ginny got up gracefully and began to fold some white linen.

Harry stared at her, taking in the navy blue robe she wore, the way her hair framed her delicate, pixie-like face, and the gentle curving of her body. "Help me." He said eventually. "Why did you help me when Voldemort was defeating me?"

"Harry, you know why." Ginny replied, putting the sheets in a cupboard to the right of him.

"Because if you didn't we all would have been doomed?" He joked feebly, desperately hoping she wasn't going to say what he thought she was going to say.

"Well there is that," Ginny smiled wryly, and Harry relaxed. "But," she continued, "that's not all. I helped you because…well, because I love you, Harry."

Harry got up, uncaring of the fact that he was wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants. "No you don't." He denied furiously. "You can't."

"And why can't I, Harry?" Ginny asked calmly. "You should get back into bed, you're not strong enough yet."

"I'm fine. And you can't, because, well, you just can't!"

"Is it because I'm Ron's little sister, Harry? Is that why I can't love you? Am I too young to know what love is?" Ginny's voice was dangerously soft. "I've loved you since before I knew your name, Harry James Potter. Nothing you say is going to change that. And you know I love you. You felt it when I helped you."

"Well I don't love you." Harry snarled. "And I never could. You're not my type, Ginny." He said, searching for words cruel enough to stop her from loving him. "You're too…ordinary." With that, he disapparated, the stricken look on Ginny's face firmly imprinted into his mind.


"Oh, Dad…" Angelina whispered, her brown eyes shocked. "How could you?"

Harry shrugged. "I was an arse." He admitted easily. "I wanted to hurt Ginny so that she wouldn't love me anymore. I still had no clear idea as to what love was."

"I can see." Angelina said. "So did Mama get really mad?"

"Your mum? No." Harry shook his head. "She just followed me and threatened to beat me to death with a salami if I didn't admit my feelings."

Angelina laughed. "How did she know?"

"Well," Harry said, "when Gin and I defeated Voldemort, there was a side effect we hadn't thought about."

"What?"

"Ginny and I have a link between us. A psychic link. Surely you've noticed that we sometimes speak without using words?"

"Well, yeah, but I thought all people who were truly in love could do that." Angelina said.

"To some extent, yes, but not as much as we can." Harry told her.


Harry buried his head in his hands. He'd blown it. He'd truly blown it. How could he have been so stupid!

It had been two months since he'd left the Wizarding World to hide out in Muggle London. And they'd been an eye-opener.

He thought about her every minute, the way her soft, loving eyes had brimmed with tears…before turning hard and flinty with anger.

He loved her, oh god, he loved her with every inch of his being. But she was gone…and there was nothing he could do about it.

He'd wounded her terribly, he knew that now…and there was absolutely nothing he could do to make it better.

Suddenly, the door slammed open, and a small, slender person stormed in.

Harry blinked, unable to believe his eyes. It couldn't be…

"Harry James Potter I have had just about enough of your foolishness." Ginny snarled, eyes flashing. "You are going to admit you love me right now, or I'll…I'll…" she trailed off, glancing around the bare apartment and then staring at him. "Good gods, what have you been doing to yourself?" She asked in disgust. "You're a mess!"

Harry brushed a hand over his head, well aware that he hadn't shaven in the two months he'd been here, so he had a beard, and that his clothes were less than pristine. "I know." He said wearily. "Ginny, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did."

"Damn straight you shouldn't." Ginny retorted with some fire. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

"Beg you to forgive me?" Harry asked.

"That's a start, but what else?"

"Uh…I dunno."

"Tell me you love me, fool!" Ginny rolled her eyes.

Feeling like this was the most surreal conversation he'd ever had, Harry did as he was told.

"Good. Now, let's go." Ginny grabbed him by the hand, and they apparated back to The Burrow.


"So then what?" Angelina said eagerly.

"Well, then I spent three weeks torturing myself, feeling as though I didn't deserve Ginny. She got kind of sick of me being a meek little boyfriend, and set me straight." Harry shook his head, laughing at the memory. "She got me so riled up I couldn't help yelling at her. She yelled back. Then your grandmother came in and yelled at us both. Then I told Molly I wanted to marry Ginny, and they both burst into tears."

"That's good." Angelina lay down, stifling a yawn.

"And now, my Angel, I think it's time you went to sleep." Harry ruffled his daughter's black hair playfully. "And remember, Gin and I weren't best friends during school, so there's hope for you and Rayne yet. Maybe you should tease him and play jokes on him. Then he'll see the real you."

"I'll think about it. G'night, Dad."

"Good night, Angel."

Harry left Angelina's room and met Ginny in the lounge. "The boys in bed?" He asked, referring to their twin eleven-year-olds, who were as much trouble as their namesakes, Fred and George. They both had the Weasley hair, and his eyes.

Ginny nodded. "And Tamika's asleep too." She said.

Harry grinned. "Good. She's usually the worst."

"Yes, well, it took me two stories and a monster-hunt to get her to sleep, but she is only five." Ginny sighed, rubbing a hand over her eyes.

Harry rubbed her shoulders sympathetically. "Angelina's off to la-la-land too."

"Yes, I know." Ginny smirked. "You really were and arse, you know."

"Hey!" Harry protested.

"But it's a nice arse." Ginny patted the body part in question.

Harry laughed. "Well so long as it's a nice one I suppose I can forgive you." He kissed her on the forehead. "I love you, Ginevra Molly Potter."

Ginny smiled beatifically. "I love you, too, Harry James Potter."

End Ficlet

The Power of Love

There comes a time,
When you face the toughest of fights.
Searching for a sign,
Lost in the darkest of nights.

The wind blows so cold,
Your standing alone,
Before the battles begun.
But deep in your soul,
The future unfolds,
As bright as the rays of the sun.

You've got to believe,
(You've got to believe,)
In the power of love.
You've got to believe,
(You've got to believe,)
In the power of love.
The power of love.

They say emotion,
Is a light that falls from the heart.
It's a chain reaction,
Nothing can keep us apart.

So stand by my side,
There's nothing to hide,
Together we'll fight to the end.
Take hold of my hand,
And you'll understand,
What it truly means to be friends.

You've got to believe,
(You've got to believe,)
In the power of love.
You've got to believe,
(You've got to believe,)
In the power of love.
The power of love.

It brings meaning to each moment
It's what our hearts are all made of
(Just look inside)
You've got to believe,
(You've got to believe,)
In the power of love.
(The power of love.)
In the power of love.