Something Fairly Simple by Savannahblue126
Chapter Notes: I'm not JKR nor do I pretend to be. Hard to believe, isn't it!
This story was actually written a few years ago, but since then I've grown as a writer and decided to spend some time rewriting it. Hopefully you'll enjoy what was my first attempt at HP fanfiction. Reviews are, of course, welcome. :)
Also, a huge thanks to my cousin Megan for being my beta. _______________________________________________
Over the years I’ve learned that books cannot teach me everything.
When I made my way through the Great Hall for the first time so long ago, my eyes transfixed on the enchanted ceiling that reflected a night sky with twinkling stars, I believed that it was my moment to prove to the Wizarding World that I was worthy of being there, regardless of the fact that I was Muggleborn. I believed that the knowledge books could give me was my perfect source of power, a way of gaining their respect. I wanted it more than anything.
I couldn’t possibly tell you how many nights I would stay up into the early morning hours reading texts from the library that would be required for future classes: The complexity of Ancient Runes, the importance of Kappa scales and their uses in various potions, and yes, I will admit, I would read Hogwarts: A History over and over until I had practically memorized it in its entirety. Professor Snape delighted in calling me an insufferable know-it-all, and the name rather stuck. There was no use in denying it, however. I enjoyed having intelligent conversations with Professor McGonagall much more than reading Witch Weekly with Parvati and Lavender. I suppose it was no surprise to anyone that I made Head Girl in seventh year, although I had to give up the title to help Harry and Ron in the hunt for Horcruxes.
The only ones who truly understood me, or at least came close, were Harry and Ron.
Oh don’t get me wrong. My parents were there for me, of course. They made sure to write me letters several times a month and invite me on the yearly ski-trip during the holidays, but in all honesty, they barely understood me either. As a child I was mostly taken care of by our neighbor Rosie while my mother and father spent “quality” time with each other. They were also dentists, so it was difficult enough fitting me into their cramped schedule. I guess you could say that my acceptance letter into Hogwarts was just about the best thing that had ever happened in my life. To be a part of such a magical world...well, to any child it was a dream come true. And when I became friends with Harry and Ron and joined them in our grand adventures, even if they were dark and terrible, it felt wonderful in knowing that I could use my knowledge, my power, to help save the the Wizarding World that I had become a part of.
Funny though, for all the knowledge that I had obtained from reading those hundreds of books, I had never learned about the most valuable thing of all. And that was, simply, love.
I had never really considered myself to be an attractive girl by any means. When I looked into the mirror I saw nothing but a bushy mane and overly large teeth. Beauty was something that Fleur Delacour and her younger sister had been blessed with, not myself. It was during my fourth year that my meeting with Viktor Krum had given me more self-confidence. I would catch him staring at me during our study sessions in the library, so I figured I couldn’t look like a troll, or an insect like that awful Professor Trelawney. He found my vast knowledge in all subjects intriguing, and I enjoyed listening to him tell me of his studies back at Durmstrang and how they differed from those at Hogwarts. But once the Triwizard Tournament was over and he left, we only kept contact through letters. My heart just wasn’t in it. It was simply friendship.
And friendship, I know now, is much different than love.
Friendship most certainly involves love, of course, but not the same kind of love that I’m speaking of. To love another with one’s entire heart, mind, and soul goes beyond the boundary of any sort of friendship. One lonely night I couldn’t stop myself from looking up its meaning in the dictionary, thinking that a definition would sum up everything that I needed to know about the subject. But what I found didn’t satisfy me. I needed to actually experience it.
And I wanted to experience it. Not friendly love. Not the love you feel towards your greatest companion or towards brother or sister. I wanted the love that makes you feel as though a hundred of Fred and George’s fireworks are setting off in your stomach. The kind of love that doesn’t need an explanation to be found in a book. And as much as I loathed to admit it to anyone, I knew nothing about it.
It was several years before I finally did. Once Harry had defeated Voldemort and the Prophecy was fulfilled, I allowed myself to fall into the arms of the very person who had been in front of me the entire time. He had told me of his feelings as I sat by his bedside in the infirmary several days after that final battle. I had come out of the fight fairly unscathed except for a few cuts here and there, but he had not been as lucky. A nasty duel with Nott had resulted in more than a few broken bones, and at one point we had been worried whether or not he would make it. But miraculously he did. At the very moment he opened his eyes and saw me there with him, he whispered with a barely audible voice that he loved me. I heard every word.
I’m sure you can guess by now who it was, given that Harry’s heart belonged to Ginny Weasley. No, it wasn’t Harry, but my other friend. The one who wouldn’t pick up a book to read for pleasure if his life depended on it. The one who had never finished his homework or studied for an upcoming exam unless I made him. The one who I had cared for much more than a friend for so many years without even realizing it.
Ronald Weasley.
Strange, isn’t it? Well, the whole “love” thing is quite strange, really. I didn’t acquire the knowledge from any sort of book, as you can guess by now. I still don’t fully understand it, but after twenty-five years of a very wonderful marriage, and having three daughters of my own, I have a very good idea. It’s the one thing that I could never have too much of. It’s my greatest source of happiness. It’s what keeps our little family together. It’s the oldest and most powerful magic that there is.
At this very moment, as I sit reading Hogwarts: a History to my youngest daughter, who will board the Hogwarts Express tomorrow morning for her first year, I hope she will realize that not all power can be obtained by books or knowledge.
No, power can be obtained by something fairly simple.
Love.