*Disclaimer: These guys all belong to JKR.
At around half past eight on the last evening of July there was a loud CRACK outside the front door of the Burrow. The house was dark inside, hopefully shielding a stealthy Mrs. Weasley from sight. Peeking out the window in order to signal the other inhabitants of the house, she saw Harry take a moment to shake his limbs and pat himself down. Apparently he wanted to check that he hadn’t left anything behind. He started to raise his fist to knock then hesitated, a worried look dawning on his face. Oh dear, thought Mrs. Weasley, maybe he wasn’t quite ready for this. Harry raised his hand again, drew his wand and then moved to knock. The door creaked open to darkness.
Before his eyes could adjust, a burst of fireworks was set off in front of Harry along with various shouts of “surprise!” Mrs. Weasley watched with a satisfied grin as he was drawn into the room with arms hugging him and hands clapping him on the back. He completely deserved to be showered with the love he’d been denied in his early years. Several voices wished him “Happy Birthday, Harry!” and asked, “So how does it feel to be a man?” He moved into the noisy room, offering assorted thanks and greetings. Then a body directly in front of him stopped him short, a pair of hands grasped the back of his neck and two lips pressed firmly against his. “Happy Birthday, Harry.” He just gaped after the slyly smirking Ginny who was now sashaying to the other side of the room.
Mrs. Weasley broke the stunned silence, inwardly chuckling at her daughter’s bravado, thinking, I guess she’s decided to follow my advice. “Well, come in, dear! You seem to have lost some weight. Have a bite to eat…” She bustled Harry over to the table and Harry’s seventeenth birthday party commenced.
About an hour later, after everyone had gorged themselves on Mrs. Weasley’s delicious fare, Ginny sat at the table pretending to listen to her father and Tonks going on about some Muggle restaurant called McDougal’s or something silly like that. She was really listening to Harry, Ron and Hermione who were all sitting together in front of the fireplace chatting companionably.
“So, Harry, sounds like you passed your test,” Ron said, his arm draped loosely around Hermione’s shoulders as she lounged against him.
“Yeah, mate, and I think you’d better take yours again as soon as possible. It’s not fun, but it definitely beats taking the Knight Bus!” They laughed.
The evening progressed and people started to gravitate upstairs wanting to be properly rested for the big day ahead. Ron, Hermione and Harry were the only ones left in the sitting room. Ginny hadn’t moved from her spot and had yet to be noticed by the other three.
“So, have you given any thought to where we’ll begin looking for the Horcruxes?” Hermione whispered stifling a yawn. She and Ron hadn’t left each other’s sides for a moment, Ginny noticed wistfully.
“Well, yeah. I guess we’ll get Ron to pass his test, after all, we don’t want the Ministry popping around every time we Apparate. I mean you can always just hold onto one of us, Hermione obviously won’t mind, but I reckon that if we get separated and you need an escape…Anyway, we’ll be in the Muggle world for a bit. I’ve gotten some maps and I know how to get us to Godric’s Hollow. We’ll see what we learn there and then I suppose our next step will be Grimmauld Place.”
“Sounds like a great plan, Harry, but maybe if you’re expecting that kind of trouble so soon, Ron shouldn’t take his test. You might just want a bit of Ministry intervention,” Ginny interrupted from behind him. Hermione and Ron glanced at each other then quickly muttered goodnights and repeated birthday wishes. They hastily retreated upstairs. This was the moment that Ginny had simultaneously longed for and dreaded. Harry wouldn’t even look at her and her last remaining bits of hope started to shrivel away. However, she wasn’t going to give up so easily.
Ginny knew, even if Harry didn’t yet, that he was going to need as much help as possible. How could he think that she would just walk away from him after everything they had been through together? Hadn’t she fought in the Department of Mysteries and most recently in the attack on Hogwarts? She had to make him understand that he was worth any risk to her and that she’d outgrown the shy, timid little girl that sent him the awful Valentine five years ago.
“Ginny, listen…” his voice interrupted her inner dialogue.
“Wait, Harry. I think you should listen,” she moved around the side of the sofa and sat next to him, gazing at him intently. “You’ve had your say and you disappeared so fast after the funeral, I never got a chance to respond.” Ginny paused collecting her thoughts.
“All right, go on then,” he finally replied.
“Harry, please, look at me.”
He did, signs of some great internal struggle flitting across his face. Why does everything have to be so difficult for him, she thought bitterly.
“I understand what you’re trying to do,” she continued, “but I just need to know…over these past weeks can you look me in the eyes and say you don’t care for me anymore? That you haven’t thought about me? That you haven’t missed me?”
Now that he was looking at her his eyes locked into her piercing gaze.
He sighed, “No, Ginny, I can’t say any of those things. The truth is that I’ve thought about you quite a lot. Tried not to, but didn’t really have much luck with that. And… I have missed you.”
A sense of triumph swelled in her heart as hope rekindled and flourished once again. “I’ve missed you, too, Harry.” She reached out to take his hand in hers. “Thank you for being honest.” She hesitated again. “Harry, have you considered…”
“Ginny…” he interrupted with a small huff.
“Wait, please let me finish,” she continued, starting to feel the heat rising around the edges of her ears and in her cheeks. She struggled to remain composed. He shut his mouth reluctantly and nodded.
“As I was saying, have you considered that unless you are going to be able to completely erase me from your thoughts and from…from your heart…that I’m really not any safer away from you than with you? Do you think Voldemort cares if we’re technically dating or not? If he wants to use someone against you, can you truly say he won’t come after me again?”
His face sank into his hand, which slid over his forehead, and then through his raven colored hair.
“Yes, I have thought about it, Ginny. And I’m not thick enough to think that you’ll ever be out of my mind, or my heart. I love you, Ginny! Is that what you want to hear? There, I’ve said it, I love you.”
“I just want the truth,” she whispered.
“Well, there it is. But what would you have me do? I can’t watch you die! I just can’t! I’d die first, and then what will it all have been for? Don’t you get it?” He snatched his hand away from her, stood and crossed to the fireplace.
“I get it, Harry! But I also know that I can take care of myself. And, by the way, I’m in no great rush to see you die or hurt either! You’re willing to risk you’re best friends’ lives, one who happens to be my brother, they can stand beside you…”
“I can’t stop them! I would if I could!”
“Yeah? And what if you can’t stop me?”
“Your mum…”
“What if she can’t stop me either?” Ginny’s voice dropped to a menacing whisper. Harry turned to look at her again, his eyes imploring. The anger that had been rising in her immediately dissipated.
“Ginny, please…”
Her voice softened again, “Harry, listen, I know you love me. I love you, too and I don’t want this to be harder. But, please, just think about it. Maybe what you need the most are the people who love you the most. Professor Dumbledore always said that the greatest weapon to use against Voldemort was your love. He never said anything about a misguided sense of honor…”
“Hey, wait just a minute…”
She held up her hand signaling him to hush. “I’ll do whatever you ask. Just think about it. And know that if you ask me to stay behind, I’ll still be waiting for you to come back to me. Just, please reconsider. She walked over to stand in front of him.
Harry immediately opened his mouth, probably to say no, but instead simply nodded. “What if I don’t make it back?”
She gently clasped his face in her hands, hoping against hope that her mother’s advice would pay off. “I’ll just have to give you enough incentive.” She pulled him to her and slid her arms around his neck. He tried to resist, but was soon returning her kiss passionately.
Upstairs, Ron and Hermione had changed into pajamas and he met her back in Ginny’s room where he was tucking her in for the night. She looked adorable lying on her side propped up on one elbow. He closed his eyes and sighed as her other hand gently wound its way through his hair. They exchanged a last easy kiss for the night. When they finally separated, she smiled and said, “How do you think it’s going down there?”
Absently he replied, “Dunno, don’t care right now.” He’d felt very preoccupied with something for most of the evening.
“Ronald!” Hermione smiled in surprise.
“No, I mean… Hermione, I’ve been thinking about something all day and I want to ask you something.” He felt himself redden and could only stare at her hand on the bed.
“You can ask me anything, you know that.” She softly caressed his face and lifted it. He wanted to lose himself in her shining eyes.
“Well, I’ve been thinking that we have no way of knowing what’s ahead of us or if we’ll get through it alive, and I’m not changing my mind, I’d never turn my back on Harry, but…” he searched for words realizing that he was starting to ramble.
“Ron, it’s okay, go on,” Hermione urged sounding characteristically concerned.
“And, well, before we go off, I just want you to know what my…intentions…are. I love you, Hermione…”
“Oh, Ron. I know that. I love you, too.” He could see a glisten come into her eyes as tears started to play the edges of her lids.
“So, the thing is…like I said, I want to make my intentions clear, for a change, and not just to you, but to everyone we care about.”
“Ron, what exactly are you on about?”
He felt incredibly warm and stifled as if the room had suddenly closed in on him, but didn’t break eye contact. This was too important. He cleared his throat and raised himself from his seated position onto one knee. “What I’m saying is that, if I can help it, I don’t ever want to be apart from you again. Hermione Jane Granger, if we survive this war, will you please agree to marry me?”
Hermione’s eyes flew open. She pressed herself up to sit on her heels.
“Ron…are you…serious?”
Burning now, he straightened his spine and squared his shoulders trying to make himself a little taller, manlier. “I am. Hermione, I can’t offer you much, but if you’ll have me, I want to marry you. Maybe not today, or tomorrow obviously, not until we’ve finished what we have to do, and I know you’ll want to finish school, that is if we’re alive, but…”
She held her fingers over his lips. The long silence that followed was deafening and he felt like shrinking with each passing moment.