“Fred!”
“NO, FRED!!”
You’re not dead, you’re just sleeping. You’re not dead; you’ve just been knocked out, c’mon Fred.” She was kneeling beside her brother, shaking him, but there was no response.
YOU’RE NOT DEAD!! Fred, wake up, open your eyes! This isn’t funny anymore, say something, please. Please.” She was shaking him with more vigour, pleading with him to wake up, but he didn’t stir. He didn’t say anything and just lay there, motionless and pale.
Ginny woke with a start as fresh tears cascaded down her cheeks. Her heart was beating fast as she looked around to soak in her surroundings. It didn’t take long for her to realize she was in the Great Hall, seated at one of the long tables. The nightmare fresh in her mind forced her to quickly look around to count the members of her family.
She saw Ron and Hermione seated in front of her, holding each other and talking quietly. To her left, her parents were seated on the same long table talking to Bill, Fleur and Charlie. Her father had his arm around her mother while she dried her leaking eyes with a handkerchief. Percy sat next to his father, joining in the conversation. George sat next to his mother, quieter than Ginny had ever seen him. Suddenly, reality came crashing down upon her.
Fred was dead and never coming back.
What were she and George going to do without their ringleader dictating the proper steps to undertake a prank? Who was going to be in charge of taking the mickey out of Percy now that he had finally come to his senses? What was she going to do now that one third of her trio was gone forever?
She took a deep breath to calm herself. She wanted to escape this place. She wanted to be with Harry, but the guilt of her own selfishness kept her rooted in her seat.
“Ginny.”
“Yes?” She answered her mum quietly.
“Ginny, dear, why don’t you go up to the girls’ dormitory for a kip? You look a bit peaky.”
“No, really, I’m fine,” she lied, giving her mum a watery smile.
Mrs Weasley moved from her seat to sit closer to Ginny. She had a soft, rather knowing expression on her face.
“No, you’re not, dear,” Mrs Weasley said as she cupped her daughter’s face with her hands. “So much has happened tonight.” She kissed Ginny’s forehead. “Go, it’s okay.”
Ginny welcomed the excuse to leave the Great Hall, kissed her mum on the cheek, and hurriedly walked through the doors of the entrance hall, and made her way to the stairs leading to Gryffindor Tower. She was not paying attention to anyone trying to talk to her. In fact, she did not want to talk to anyone. She just wanted Harry. Unfortunately, on her way to Gryffindor Tower, she saw no sign of him.
Ginny sighed. He’s probably hiding under his Cloak. I can’t really blame him. He deserves a little peace and quiet.
She reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, but it was empty. Ginny looked around.
“GO ON IN, RED!!” the Fat Lady shouted jubilantly from across the hall.
Ginny opened the portrait hole and climbed in. Her heart sank as she realized Harry wasn’t in the common room. She turned towards the girls’ dormitories, thinking about her four-poster only a flight of stairs away. Then a familiar voice called her name, making her stop in her tracks.
“Ginny.”
She turned around to look for the source just as Harry pulled off his Invisibility Cloak. He was sitting comfortably on the couch near the fireplace. He looked exhausted, but oddly content. She didn’t move. She just stared at him, taking in every feature. There were dark circles under his bright green eyes; his hair, though always untidy, looked singed, as did his robes. Dry blood was caked along a gash on his right cheek, and tear tracks streaked along the grime on his face. However, Ginny forgot about all these things when Harry’s face broke into a lazy smile.
She remembered that smile; it was the one she hadn’t seen in almost a year. It was a smile that reached his eyes and seemed to light up every part of his body. It was a smile that floored her, made her weak at the knees, putty in his hands. It was a smile just for her and no one else.
She returned his smile with a watery one of her own. It felt stiff on her face as it shared similar muscles with a lump in her throat. She quickly crossed the room and sat on his lap, burying her head in his chest. The soft pressure of his arms around her welcomed her exhaustion like a warm bed.
“Muffliato,” he whispered, pointing his wand toward the portrait hole.
He cradled her in his arms, stroking her hair and gently kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her neck and eventually her lips. She closed her eyes as her lips meet his warm, chapped ones. His mouth opened slightly and his tongue rested at her lips, seeking permission to deepen the kiss. She opened her mouth to deepen the kiss - savouring him, tasting him, breathing in his scent of sweat and earth.
All the emotion she had been trying to control over the past couple of hours started to creep up, screaming to escape. She broke the kiss and quickly opened her eyes to break that train of thought, taking slow deep breaths in an effort to calm herself down, but the breaths were only making things worse. The torrent of emotion finally overtook her and she was powerless to stop it. She was hyperventilating now and sobbing uncontrollably. She hated crying, especially in front of Harry. But his gentle touch seemed to command the tension away from her muscles, freeing her vulnerability like a flood. She didn’t have to be strong anymore. She could let her guard down and feel completely safe in his arms.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Harry asked as he gently wiped away the tears cascading down her cheeks. “I understand if you don’t want to, but Ginny I…I know how you feel.”
She wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about it. She wasn’t sure she was ready to talk about it. Did he really want to hear it now, after all that had happened tonight? Did he really want to hear the raging conflict that was going on in her head - the emptiness she felt from losing her brother warring with the gratitude she felt from getting the love of her life back? She wondered if he felt this confused two years ago after the incident at the Department of Mysteries - grieved at losing someone close to him, but at the same time, relieved that his friends came out of that battle unscathed.
She took a deep shuddering breath before uttering, “I-I miss m-my brother,” she said quietly, wiping the tears from her face.
She felt Harry’s body stiffen beneath her and his embrace slackened. He gently lifted her legs off him and slowly got up from the couch. He started pacing, eventually stopping in front of the window with his back facing her.
At first she thought she had angered him, but knew better than to think her confession would make him mad. She could see his reflection in the window. It made his face eerily pale, completely devoid of any colour, but worse than his pallor was his expression. It was a deeply remorseful look she had seen only once - three years ago at the end of the Third Task when he appeared at the edge of the maze clutching Cedric’s dead body. She crossed the room to stand in front of him and study his face, but his head was bowed. He was fingering a hole in his T-shirt.
“Ginny, I’m…I’m so s“.”
“No. No, Harry, it’s not your f-fault,” she stammered as fresh tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Harry, look at me, please.” She wanted him to understand she was not blaming him for Fred’s death and that no one in the wizarding world would blame him for anything. She took his hand in hers and kissed it.
“It’s his f-fault, V-Voldemort’s fault. H-He did this to us, n-not you…you …you saved us all. You s-saved us, Harry,” she consoled. “It’s not your fault, okay?”
He looked up at her sheepishly and nodded his head in agreement. She knew it would take time for him to understand everything that happened tonight was not his fault. She wiped her tears and gently wrapped her arms around him once again, burying her head in his chest. They stood by the window holding each other in comfortable silence. All that could be heard now was the crackling of the fire.
Eventually, he led her back to couch and lay down, making sure there was enough room for her next to him. She smiled at him and lay down in the vacant spot, draping her free arm across his chest.
“Do you want anything? Are you hungry? I can have Kreacher bring you a sandwich.” Harry said, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face.
"No.” She grinned, stealing a kiss before getting comfortable again.
All I want is you, Harry.
She just wanted to stay shielded in his arms forever. She closed her eyes and fell asleep to the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat.
All I Want Is You by kalae_zoe
Chapter Notes: I'd like to thank my cwarbeck for betaing this story for me. And a special thanks to Bogus, you're a star!