Okay… This is my first fanfiction in awhile, so please read and review. If it ends up sucking, be gentle. I was making coffee when the idea to this one-shot jumped into my mind. I blame in on the fact that it snowed today.
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter do you really think I'd be posting stuff on here?
Musing on a Snowy Night
I awoke from a familiar nightmare, a nightmare where HE had died. He… my love… Harry Potter… Savior of the wizarding world… Everyone was depending on him, even me. Most of all, me…
Knowing that I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, at least for awhile, I swung my feet out of bed. Though my home, commonly known as the Burrow, was warm and snug, I still felt cold. Ever since the last time he had gone away, I had been robbed of true warmth. A part of me knew that he was somewhere, out who knows where, while I was safe and 'warm' here.
I quietly grabbed my sweater as I left my room, knowing everyone else would be asleep. It was early in the morning, and for once, the house was quiet.
I padded down the stairs, my thoughts still on my green-eyed love, and turned into the kitchen. Automatically, a candle on the kitchen table flickered on, illuminating the otherwise dark kitchen. I grabbed the kettle and filled it with water. As I did, I looked out the dark window. I couldn't see much of anything, but I did noticed whiteness falling from the heavens. Snow… Snow brought back so many memories.
Realizing the kettle was full, I placed it on the stove and then sat back down at the kitchen table. As I waited, I watched the snow…
Once upon a time, I loved the snow. Winter had been my favorite time of the year. Everything was covered in a layer of beautiful, pure whiteness. The world seemed so much simpler during the winter…
But now my love of snow was tainted by my last memory of him. Though Harry had left with Ron and Hermione shortly after Bill and Fleur's wedding, they had occasionally wandered back here during their travels.
The last time they had been here was Christmas. At the time I was so happy to see him. Even though he had new scars and bruises, he was back with me and safe, or as safe as anyone could be during these dark times. But then he (and Ron and Hermione) had left once again. Even though I pleaded with him to take me with Him, he wouldn't allow it. He had left me here, once again…
A whistle from the kettle awoke me from my broodings. I moved to the kettle, turned the stove off and prepared my drink.
Hot chocolate…
During the summer, when he was still with us, my nightmares began. Back then, though, whenever I awoke during the night and wandered down here to the kitchen, he would always be waiting… waiting here for me. He would already be waiting with a cup of warm hot chocolate, and we would sit together in the living room.
We never really spoke, though. He would just hold me and we would sip our hot chocolate, safe and warm together.
By now I had finished making my hot beverage and was already back at he table, about to drink. That's when I heard a noise… A noise I was sure I was imagining… A noise that roused me from the reverie...
Knocking…
Knocking on the kitchen door…
It was soft and barely more than a faint whisper of a noise, but it was a knocking nonetheless.
Trying not to hope, but getting up to check still the same I walked toward the door.
It's nothing but the wind, the rational part of my brain chastised.
But what if it's not? Another, smaller voice said.
Then it's probably a Death Eater, my rational feeling replied.
Still, I had to check… I had to be sure…
Standing by the door, the knocking was only slightly louder. I braised myself… Knowing he wouldn't be there…
And I opened the door…
…
Nothing…
I sighed... Why? My rational voice said, Why did you open the door?
That part of me, however rational, knew I would probably start crying, and though my eyes were watery, I refused to cry.
I had to have courage.
I had to believe that he'd come back.
He would come back…
To me…
To all of us…
And I'd be waiting, waiting for him in this kitchen. And when he came I'd have hot chocolate waiting, and we'd cuddle on the couch, and I'd never let him go. And I'd be warm again, and so would he…
Author's Note: I know, that was probably a bit to sappy for you all, but it's what came to me.
I don't expect you to think this was a stupendous work of fanfiction, but I would appreciate a review.
Thank you, and I hope you enjoyed this small piece of fiction. It was a thought that came to me today, while making a mocha coffee (hot chocolate + coffee). It also snowed today, so yeah…
Anyways, just incase you're thick or what have you, the story was from Ginny's POV.