a/n: Nanse! You wonderful human being! You maker of beautiful art and funny comments!
Disclaimer: Ha, ha, no.
Title: with love, with love
Word Count: 1K
Summary: Love told through four holidays. [for nanse, the sweetest Hufflepuff on the face of the earth]
Halloween
Harry brushes a yellow leaf out of his hair and blinks the autumn sun from his eyes. He can taste the lingering wood smoke in the air, the scent of crushed leaves and spiced cider from The Three Broomsticks. He knows somewhere back at the Castle that Hagrid is readying his yearly crop of pumpkins. That the enchanted portraits are trading costumes, and perhaps Nearly- Headless Nick is handing out invitations to his Death Day party, that the signs of Halloween have made their way down here to Hogsmeade with the orange streamers and bat-shaped decorations.
Rosy-cheeked from the cold, Ginny grins up at him, one of her hands automatically reaching for his. Incidentally, it's the same hand that holds the wax paper bag full of remaining homemade fudge.
"Oh, thank Merlin," breathes Harry. He grabs her other hand. "Your hands are so warm."
"You charmer." She kisses his cheek before tearing off a piece of fudge for herself. "Where were you?"
"Thinking about Halloween costumes." They walk down High Street together. Inside the display window of Twilfitt and Tatting's, a shopkeeper struggles to get the mannequins dressed in swaths of layered green fabric. Harry nudges Ginny. "Think that could be us?"
Ginny laughs. A pair of ornate wings with gold-coloured streamers are fixed to the backs of mannequins. "You might pull off those striped stockings."
"I do have the legs for them." Ginny tosses him more fudge. Harry thoughtfully chews a corner. "Could be better than dressing up as a Muggle version of a ghost."
"Isn't that just a bedsheet? Harry!"
"See?" says Harry. "This is why I'm your plus-one. I'm utterly helpless without you."
Christmas
They forget about the biscuits.
Harry's new flat is in a Muggle neighbourhood, tucked between a café and Greek bakery, the signs of It everywhere inside. Cooking supplies are scattered around the kitchen, the scent of rich chocolate and slightly-burned sugar grow as Harry and Ginny become busy with each other, the aprons discarded with a piece of enchanted mistletoe dangling above the kitchen doorway, long-forgotten.
Ginny stands on the tips of her toes, one hand on the back of his neck, the other bracing herself against the countertop of his new kitchen. Distantly, Harry is aware that they're both covered in flour, that the biscuits should be taken out of the Muggle oven soon – but he's distracted so much by his girlfriend.
He lifts Ginny up. Her legs automatically wrap around his waist. Her laughter is sweeter than any chocolate icing they've made that day,
"We should do this more often," she gasps, tugging on the collar of his new homemade jumper before pulling at his hair.
"Kissing?"
"Shut up." Ginny pulls back, her fingers still tangled in his hair. "Every Christmas. We make biscuits."
Harry grins. "I like the idea of making traditions with you." He leans his weight against the wall. "This might be one of my favourite Christmases yet." Definitely, on the same level as receiving his first Christmas jumper from Ms Weasley or opening presents with Sirius at Number Twelve.
This is, he realizes, his first real Christmas with Ginny. A celebration without the shadow of war over them.
We'll have more holidays like this, he knows.
Easter
Teddy gums on a piece of stolen chocolate. He waves a chubby fist, obviously pleased with his plan.
"Please," Harry pleads. He pokes his godson's stomach. "Let it got for me, Teddy."
"Nah, nah," Teddy says, much in a way Harry imagines an evil genius and wobbles on his feet as he babbles for more. He looks up at Harry with his wide green eyes and freckled face, unconsciously mimicking whatever appearance he sees. It makes Harry's stomach do a strange flip whenever he sees similar green eyes under a mop of Weasley-red hair.
"Outwitted already?" Ginny asks. She sits down on the picnic blanket next to Harry. "The Boy-Who-Lives can't defeat a baby."
Teddy burps. He clutches Harry's shirt and demands for more Easter Chocolate. The ends of his spiky hair turn red, washing out the light brown. Harry turns him around and points to the wide lawn. Pastel-coloured eggs are hidden in plain sight around the garden and stone pathway, each charmed not to break under Teddy's destructive grip.
It's another new tradition he hopes to continue.
Ginny kisses the top of Teddy's head. "The twins once hid them in the chicken coop. I still can't tell you who was more traumatized – me or the hens."
Harry can easily imagine her with her twin plaits, screaming inside the chicken coop as she swings her Easter basket around like a weapon. He suspects it's not the strangest incident from her childhood. He chews on a piece of his chocolate easter egg that is decorated in swirls of yellow and red icing, the inside full of strawberry mousse. A part of his mind straying on Teddy's appearance...wondering somewhat...just a fanciful thought about his godson having a child to play with...
Harry shakes his head. Ginny nudges him, and Teddy bravely makes his way to his first Easter egg at the edge of the picnic blanket.
Birthday
The hammock swings under their combined weight.
It's a drowsy day full of summer sunshine and the gentle swaying of heavy-limbed tree branches. Against his eyelids, Harry can make out the flickering dance of sunlight through green leaves, the gentle shower of apple blossom petals falling around them like snow. He takes in a deep breath, half-submerged in a dream about nothing in particular. He's never known it possible to dream like this before.
Also half-asleep, Ginny stirs beside him. One of her arms is happily tucked underneath him, an ankle hooked under his. Her long hair is fanned around her head, smelling faintly of apple blossoms and fresh grass. He wants to bottle the scent, the sensation of her touch, and savour it on a cold winter night.
Harry runs a thumb along the strap of Ginny's vest. He kissed her sunburned shoulder, feeling a wave of peace wash over him.
Thank you, he thinks. His heart is overwhelmed with so much love. Thank you for the perfect birthday.
a/n: and that's it for ffn!
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