a/n – Absolutely bonkers that I'm updating this like over 7 years after I posted the first chapter. But blame this on me being sick and deciding to read some of my old work. Life has changed a whole lot in the past 7 years, but this is still my favorite pairing. If you have read the first chapter before, I suggest you go back and read it again, as I have made some updates to it. Anyway, thank you for being here!
You lay awake in the night, just staring at the ceiling above
Pulling pieces of it out is such a waste of time
You'll keep on fighting to remember that nothing is lost in the end
Until you burn, burn, burn your life down
bleachers – burn your life down
When she wakes up in the middle of the night, it's not because her head is pounding, or the oppressive heat is making her hair stick to her neck. She wakes up because Ron and Hermione are standing in her doorway whispering to each other and giggling.
So she makes the decision for them and gets up.
"I don't want to know what you two are going to do, please," she tells them. "Just stay away from my bed."
She closes the door and stands in the hallway wondering where she should go.
It's really out of the kindness of her heart, she thinks, that she's letting her brother and Hermione have some alone time. But now she's left with the decision of where to spend the rest of her night. She could go to kitchen or any common areas, but that would present the risk of her parents finding her and wondering why she's out of her room at whatever time it is.
So, she makes the decision to go up to her brother's room. A room he shares with Harry.
In hindsight, she should've knocked. Instead, she walks in and spooks him to the point he's pointing his wand at her.
"Fucking Merlin, it's just me," she tells him.
"Oh, sorry" he looks awkward and a little sheepish.
The silence settles between them and she becomes painfully aware of his state of undress. He's only in his pants and pulls a vest over his head.
"Didn't mean to startle you," she says as she sits down on Ron's bed and pulls his blanket over her own bare legs. "I got sexiled and thought you would be asleep by now."
At this, he snorts. "Better you than me I suppose."
"Has this been happening all summer?"
"Pretty much since we got back," he replies. He's still standing in front of his cot. He looks uncomfortable, like her presence is taking all the space and air from the room.
"What do you usually do?"
He shrugs and finally sits down with his back to the wall. The expanse between the two beds feels intimate and this makes Ginny uneasy, like she shouldn't be there.
"Sometimes I go to the kitchen or outside."
"You could've come to my room," she tells him fidgeting with the frayed end of the blanket. If she makes eye contact, she loses.
He doesn't reply and she wishes she could take it back; she wishes she didn't sound so desperate to her own ears.
"I didn't mean-"
"I know what you meant," he stops her. "And it didn't seem right."
She's desperate to change the topic.
"Did you just get back? What time is it?"
"About an hour ago," he responds. "And it's just past 2 in the morning. Some of your brothers were rather pissed so it took some time to get back. Your parents were worried about you."
"What did you tell them?"
"That you had a headache and came back by yourself."
"Thanks."
"Ginny," he starts and she finally meets his eyes. He looks pained. Like he's about to turn her down once again. Like she's a delicate thing that won't take a hint. She feels rather stupid.
"I came here to sleep," she says as she lays down and turns her back to him, pulling the blanket over herself. "We don't have to speak."
"Please just hear me out."
She turns. She wishes she didn't care about the way she looks to him right now. She must look vulnerable and silly, with her flattened curls and wrapped in her brother's blanket.
"I'm sorry," he starts. "For the way things ended and for the things I said tonight. And for not being who you wanted me to be."
She's taken aback by the apology, not because she didn't see it coming, but because she doesn't know what to do with it. She lays on her back and stares at the ceiling.
"I never wanted you to be anyone but you, Harry," she says after some time. "And that's the problem. Maybe when I was a child and had this idea of who you were, of this hero who could do no wrong. And then I grew up and saw you, the real you. And then I couldn't look away. I think I always knew it would end this way."
"How?"
He's also laying down staring at the ceiling now.
"Before it really started."
They're both silent for a long time and she begins to wonder if he's asleep.
"I thought about you," he says eventually. "All the time. Until the last moment."
He sits up and she mirrors his moves. He stands up and goes to sit next to her on Ron's bed. Their backs are to the wall and the distance between their shoulders feels charged.
"I want to tell you," he finally looks at her. "About everything."
"Alright."
So he tells her. About the prophecy and the horcruxes and the hallows. He tells her about Malfoy Manor, the parts that are his to tell and also Godric's Hollow. He tells her about his link to Voldemort and she's fisting the blanket, nauseous at her own memories - or lack thereof - of possession. He tells her about the battle and how it felt to see her for the first time in almost a year. He tells her about Snape and his memories and by this point they're leaning against each other and he's under the blanket too.
Then he tells her about walking into the forest and seeing her. And seeing his parents and their friends.
"It was you."
"What do you mean?" she asks him, sick about what he might say next.
"You were the last thing I thought about before dying."
She has no words. He's been doing all the talking, but she's the one that's speechless.
He tells her about the next part and the platform and what came next.
"I'm not telling you all of this because I want to justify myself."
"Well," she says trying to lighten the mood. "I think this is the best excuse I've heard for being a lousy ex-boyfriend."
He snorts and looks at her.
"I wish none of this had ever happened to you," she finally says. "I wish there was a way to carry some of this weight for you. I'm so sorry."
"Ginny-"
"No, hear me out."
She holds his hand in hers.
"You don't deserve any of the things that have happened to you," she tells him. "I wish you'd had an easier life. All I want for you is to be happy and free, Harry. And I want us to be friends. If we can't be anything else."
He nods. She feels a burning behind her eyes that tell her she's going to cry. She's going to cry because he's the best man she knows and he deserves all the happiness he won't let himself have.
"We'll be friends."
Her head has ended up on his shoulder somehow and she looks up. Their eyes meet.
He leans down and kisses her. It's timid and soft and it makes her shake.
He moves back and begins to apologize, but she stops him with a harder kiss. The tension breaks and they're pouring the last year into an all-consuming kiss.
Ginny doesn't know how she ends up on his lap with her legs straddling, but his hand on her scar stops them both.
They could continue this and follow the natural progression of things. They could stay together tonight and then move on with their lives. Him as an auror, her as a student and whatever comes after. But they make the conscious decision to untangle their limbs and he goes back to his cot.
He extinguishes the candle and they lay, apart, in the dark.
"Now what?" he asks.
"Now we never speak of this again," she responds. "Now we are friends."
Tomorrow, Harry and her brother will tell her family they're joining the aurors. She'll spend her summer helping George at the shop and her mum around the house. He'll spend his summer traveling across the continent following the trace of former death eaters and learning new skills. She'll go back to Hogwarts in September with a shiny new head girl pin on her breast and a new goal to become a professional quidditch player. He'll be back in England in September to fix up Grimmauld Place and make it inhabitable, while continuing his training. They will not cross paths until Christmastime.
Now, Ron comes back to the room right before dawn and looks almost surprised to find them in separate beds. She hasn't slept.