A/N-I apologise for the delay in updating, October has been absolutely crazy for me!
Okay, I really get it, I messed up on Ginny's eye colour! I usually always check all the little details but for some reason, this time, I just didn't and I have no idea why. Once More Than Life is complete it will go through a more thorough editing phase and this will be corrected in the earlier chapters, from now onwards Ginny's eyes will be brown.
7.
"I'm not sure, Gin."
"I know you're not, but I am," Ginny answered, firmly. They were standing on the corner of a Muggle street, the identical houses and square front gardens offered no distinguishability from each other. Ginny wrinkled her nose and shot a sideways glance at her husband, noticing the way his features seemed to have stiffened as, behind his glasses, a pair of bright green eyes had fixed themselves on one house in particular, a short way down the street. Ginny watched him swallow hard and instinctively reached for his hand with one of her own, joining them in the solidarity she knew he needed.
"This is," Ginny began, examining their surroundings, "far too normal." The red haired witch spoke the last word with such an air of unenthusiastic disdain that it actually caused Harry to let out a short, low chuckle.
"What?" She enquired, granting him another sideways glance.
"Petunia would take that as a massive compliment."
"Normal is a compliment?"
Harry snorted, "It is to her."
"Stupid woman," Ginny remarked simply, yet fiercely, earning another small laugh from her husband.
The couple began to walk down the street, a sign to their left read Privet Drive, and Ginny found herself imagining a young boy with messy hair. Did he play here? Run around with a ball? Annoy the occupants of the neighbouring, identical houses? It was a far cry from the Burrow and had a distinct lack of gnomes and wild overgrown evergreens that Ginny couldn't help but associate with her own childhood.
Ginny knew that the street itself, and the majority of the people who resided within it, were most likely as pleasant as any other in England, yet she couldn't help but feel a clear-cut dislike of the place, knowing that Harry had spent many long, lonely years here with no one but some batty old cat-mad neighbour to offer a kind word. She felt her right hand gently touch her, as of now still flat stomach as they approached the gate that led to number four.
The path to the front door was lined by perfectly symmetrical flowerbeds, a deliberate uniformity was present down to the placing of each individual flower. Ginny's gaze raised, to examine the exterior of the property, no distinguishing features separating the house from its multiple neighbours.
As the pair walked up the path, both coming to a natural halt in front of the door to number four, Ginny felt the grasp Harry's hand had upon her own tighten briefly, turning her face to meet her husband's steely gaze, Ginny recognised the determined mask he'd settled his features into, and shot him both a fleeting smile of support and a single nod of conviction, which Harry emulated. She watched him closely, observing the subtle ways in which his nerves surfaced. His swallowing seemed forced, and somehow rushed; a slight flare to his nostrils as he breathed just a touch harder and faster than his norm and the coating of determination that now covered his striking green eyes. A deep breath filled into her husband's lungs as he quickly, as though worried he may not follow through, his hand left hers and the pad of his index finger met the small circular button of the doorbell.
It took less than five short seconds for the door to be pulled open, just enough for a mop of blonde hair which sat atop a pointed face to appear, a large 'O' of surprise almost immediately plastered upon it, which also featured, Ginny couldn't help but notice, a large set of teeth, which looked as though they would protrude outwards regardless of whether their owner's mouth was open or closed.
For a fleeting moment, Ginny found herself wondering whether this venture was fruitless, the red headed witch often thought herself a reasonable judge of character, for the most part, and even without the knowledge of Harry's personal history and relationship with this woman, Ginny was fairly certain she would have wanted nothing to do with the individual standing in the doorway of number four Privet Drive.
This is for Harry, Ginny reasoned with herself, cursing the momentary lapse in her confidence, reminding herself that, considering what Harry had told her of Petunia's feelings towards the Wizarding Community, it was entirely plausible that Petunia was currently mere seconds away from being turned into a large dairy cow. Smirking at the thought, Ginny shot a sideways glance at Harry whilst gently nudging his side, willing him to speak to his aunt.
It seemed to have worked, she had become aware of her wizard tensing his body the very moment the door began to open, remaining in the same state of tension as Harry cleared his throat and said a very direct and cold, "Petunia."
Ginny knew from his tales of the past that Harry had always titled Petunia with 'Aunt Petunia', and from the fleeting narrowing of the blonde woman's eyes, Ginny was certain she was not the only woman present to notice the change.
Petunia opened the door a touch further, allowing more of her neck, which Ginny noted there was rather a lot of, to crane around the street, her eyes darting to the closest houses to her own, before giving Harry a curt nod and Ginny a sharp, unreadable look. Ginny watched the woman's eyes scanning her face and briefly resting upon Ginny's long, ginger hair before she opened the door enough for the couple to step into the house.