Never Better
Ginny Weasley wanted nothing more or nothing less than this. His arms wrapped around her, surrounding her like a sort of cloud in a dream. She closed her eyes and breathed him in. It was too perfect – everything had been too perfect.
Except for one thing.
Harry Potter was never home anymore. He would swear to her that he would be home by eight o'clock that night, not any later.
"I promise you, Ginny, Moody will not exceed his time limit this time," he whispered to her as he had every night before they would retire. "He can't make me do any more work than he's already making me do."
"But Harry, dearest, it's not Moody that's making you work. You're forcing all of this upon yourself. You don't have to work this hard at all, Harry," she said.
"Of course he is, Ginny. Haven't you heard him? He's always telling me to stay longer, to work harder, that if I only pushed myself a little more I could easily be promoted to the head of Voldemort's search."
Ginny shuddered at the name. She was not afraid of the Dark Lord in and of himself – she was afraid of the strain that he put on her poor Harry. She was afraid that if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did anything else to anger Harry, he would give her up completely and surrender himself to the work he had to do. He was already pretty close.
"I promise I'll be back tomorrow at eight. I promise."
"Oh, Harry, I wish it were so, but I can't trust you anymore. You say that to me every night, and yet every night you come home at eleven. I wait up for you, feeling silly in my pink and black nightgown without a man beside me to compliment me on how I look in it. And yet I wait anyway. I don't know why I wait," she said. She felt him pull her closer, tugging on a loop on her pants. This was what kept her going – the feeling she got when he held her like this.
"I take that back – I know why I wait," she said quietly, not wishing to give up her ground but knowing that the look in her eyes gave it all away.
"And I can't blame you for being angry with me, sweetie. I'd be angry with me, too. In fact, I am angry at me. Every moment I spend away from you is torture," he said soothingly. She felt his warm breath on her cheek.
"Then come home on time for once. Please come home and see me. See me in my pink and black nightgown before I fall asleep on the couch, waiting for you. Compliment me on how I look in it. Then take me into your arms and kiss me like you mean it. I don't want you to come home tired. I miss kissing you, Harry. I miss being with you," she confessed to him.
"Alright, Ginny. I promise you, I will come home at eight o'clock tomorrow night," Harry sighed.
"Do you promise?"
"I promise."
"Swear on your life?"
"Yes, Ginny, I swear on my life."
Ginny sighed, but he kissed her before she had the chance to do anything else. This was why she waited up for him – for one of those kisses.
- - -
Harry did not come home at eight o'clock.
The time passed so slowly where she was. She wasn't on Earth, she could tell, because on Earth she would not be so alone. She was not in Heaven, because in Heaven she would be able to be with Harry – or at least, she'd be able to see him from where she was. And she was most certainly not in hell, because in hell she would be way hotter than this.
But she was pretty close.
Wherever she was, Harry wasn't there. She had given up on being worried. She had been worried too many nights before for it to hurt her anymore. Harry was a grown man, and he could fend for himself. He was a true Auror now. He knew how to look after himself.
But she wanted him to be there to look after her, and he wasn't.
Finally, at one-thirty in the morning, the phone rang. She picked it up as quickly as she could and said shakily into the receiver, "Hello?"
"It's me," said a quiet voice. The person on the other line was shaking as well.
"Harry, you promised you'd be back by eight o'clock. It's one-thirty. Where are you?" she cried. She was more upset than angry.
"Don't talk so loud, Ginny. I'm on his tail. If everything goes as planned, I can catch him tonight," Harry said.
"You can catch who tonight?" Ginny asked. She was too tired to think.
"Who do you think? Voldemort!"
Ginny's heart stopped in her chest. "Harry, what are you thinking? Are you by yourself?"
"Of course I am! How do you expect me to catch him with fifty other people on my tail?"
"Are you crazy? Where are you? I'm coming to get you!"
"No you're not. I'm not putting you in this danger. You're not even Auror trained, Ginny, it would be way too dangerous," Harry hissed, his voice distorted by the bad connection.
"Harry James Potter, you get back here right now – you could be killed!" A faint beeping noise was heard over the connection.
"Ginny, honey, I have to go. I'm about to find out where he's headed. I'll call back, I promise," he whispered.
"If you hang up on me, I swear, I will –"
"I love you," was the last thing Ginny heard before the line went dead.
She was seething with anger. She would go out to find him, but she did not dare go against his wishes. Besides, if he was out looking for Voldemort, that meant that Voldemort was out there somewhere nearby. She would have no idea where to find him, and with her luck, Voldemort would find her in an instant.
So instead, Ginny Weasley sat patiently in her bedroom, her fingernails growing steadily shorter, the windows on number thirty-eight, Magnolia Crescent shut tight but the curtains flapping eerily.
- - -
Harry Potter's heart was racing. He could feel it pounding out a beat against his rib cage as though it were the drummer in a rock band. Only this was no celebration – this was serious.
"Potter, it's me," growled Mad-Eye Moody, his boss. "I have a bit of disturbing news for you."
He now thought it would burst from his chest. "What is it, Mad-Eye?"
There was a deep sigh on the other end, then almost inaudibly: "We know where Voldemort is headed."
"That's . . . horrible. . . ." Harry murmured, wondering why this was supposed to be disturbing.
"You don't understand, Potter," Moody whispered. "You better hurry up and get to number thirty-eight Magnolia Crescent damn fast, boy."
Harry stopped moving completely. "This is a cruel joke, Mad-Eye."
"What are you doing here, Potter? Hang up the phone and get over there."
Harry slammed the phone shut as quickly as he could and began sprinting to the house Moody had named. Of all houses to be chosen, this was the one he was resenting the most.
He opened his phone again, pressed speed-dial number two, and waiting for her to pick up. It too three times, but eventually, she did.
"Hello?" she asked.
"Ginny, get out of the house now," he said as quickly as he could.
"Harry, is that you?" Ginny said. He was relieved to hear her voice, but feared it being cut off abruptly.
"Yes, it's me, who else would it be?" he said irritably. "I'm telling you, get out of the house. Now."
"I can't hear you, love, call me back later."
"Ginny, you don't understand! You are going to die if you don't get out of there!" Harry shouted. He felt tears welling up behind his eyes.
"What's going to happen to me?" Ginny called.
"YOU – ARE – GOING – TO – DIE!" The tears were free-falling now. "Baby, just please try to listen to me!"
"Harry, I think we're breaking up, I can't hear you at all."
"Ginny, don't leave me!"
"I'm right here, Harry, don't –"
But the connection went dead. Harry almost screamed. He looked at the cell phone in his hands – there were tons of service bars. Why, then, wasn't it working?
He looked at it again and cursed it – there was no battery left. It flickered and died.
"No!" he shouted. "Not you, too! Everything is dying on me!"
Harry ran. As fast as he could.
- - -
Harry arrived at thirty-eight Magnolia Crescent fifteen minutes later, his legs aching and his heart failing him. It was the fastest he had ever run in his life. He was just afraid it wasn't fast enough.
He sprinted up the stairs with whatever energy he had left and flung himself into the bedroom that he and Ginny shared. His eyes were blurred with tears. He tried to look around for some trace of life – something moving, something breathing. He tried to find her but she wasn't there.
And then he saw it – a flash of red hair.
And then an ear-piercing scream, a hiss, and a shout of, "Get away from me!"
Harry wiped the tears out of his eyes and turned to face the doorway, from which he heard the sounds. There he saw the one thing he had dreaded the most.
A huge snake was slithering up her leg and curling itself around her torso. Fangs bared, it tried to lunge at her but she managed to slap it away. It reared its ugly head again, but this time, Ginny was not prepared. The snake dug its fangs deep into her skin.
"NOOOOOOOO!" Harry screamed, lunging at it. Before he knew what was happening, he had caught Ginny, laid her down gently on the floor, and had the snake by the throat at arm's length. He pounded it into the floor as hard as he could and shouted, "Incendio!" A huge flame came flying from his wand and landed on the snake, which writhed in pain and hissed madly. Harry stayed just to watch it die.
With a flash, it disappeared, nothing more than a pile of ashes on the floor.
Harry ran over to Ginny and cradled her in his arms, holding her with everything he possessed. He suddenly remembered the night before when he had tugged on the loop of her pants to bring her closer to him. He pressed his cheek to hers, which was suddenly losing its color.
"Oh, Ginny, I'm so sorry," he whispered into her hair. "I didn't realize – I didn't know –"
He didn't know what to say. Everything was his fault. Everything.
"I should have come home at eight o'clock, like I promised."
Ginny reached up and stroked his face softly with two of her fingers. "It's not your fault," she whispered back.
"Yes it is, Ginny, it is!"
He felt her hand fall. He reached to grab it, kissing it with as much force as he could. She had to know that he cared.
"Stay with me, Ginny! Stay with me!"
There was no response, but her eyes were still open. Without even thinking, he leaned over and kissed her lips, just to see if she would kiss him back.
She didn't.
- - -
Harry Potter awoke to his own sobbing. He touched his face and felt tears streaming down them. He looked beside him, hoping and praying that Ginny would be there.
She wasn't.
"Ginny!" he shouted, letting the sadness wash over him like an ocean wave. He succumbed to it and let the current drag him down.
"I'm right here, Harry. Don't worry. I'm here."
Harry turned to the door to see Ginny running towards him, a wet cloth in her hands and a look of worry on her face. Harry threw off whatever sheets were still on him and ran into her, almost knocking her over.
"Oh, Ginny, you're alive! You're not dead! You're here with me!"
"Of course I am, Harry," she said quietly, absorbing his affections. "Where else would I be but by your side?"
"Oh, love, I promise, I will never come home after eight again. I swear it. I give you permission to kill me if I break the promise, Ginny – the price is too high," he said, kissing her neck.
"Harry!" she giggled. She pushed him away softly. He drew back and looked at her in her pink and black nightgown.
"Oh, Ginny, you look amazing," he said, his hands traveling up and down her arms.
"What's this all about?" she asked quizzically, raising one of her eyebrows.
A smile broke on his face. "It was all a dream, Ginny. The snake that Voldemort was possessing didn't bite you, because here you are. You're looking back at me, and your laughing with me."
"Are you feeling alright?"
"Never better."
Harry took her into his arms again and pulled her on top of him on to the bed. She propped herself up with her hands so that she was looking down at him, her curtain of hair falling around him. She put a finger to his lips and slowly drew it down his chin, the one hand snaking around his neck. He reached up to her and wrapped his arms around her. He drew her into him, held her close, and kissed her like he meant it.
And he did mean it.