Author's Note: This is my first Harry Potter fic, although I have written other stuff for CSI under a different pen name. I hope you enjoy it and review once you're done! Also, I'd like to extend a big thank-you to Ann for coming up with the title.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I am not the brilliant J.K. Rowling. I am only borrowing and playing with her characters, with full intention of returning them once I'm finished.
Warning: This fic contains spoilers from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Please do not read it unless you have already finished the book.
Fred's death had had an (expectedly) profound effect on the Weasley family, Harry, who had been staying at the Burrow since leaving Hogwarts, included. George hadn't cracked even the simplest joke since Fred died, and until now, nobody had really realized what a blessing the twins' tomfoolery was upon the family. It was obvious that George felt like half of him had been ripped out and destroyed in front of his eyes. No, that wasn't quite right. George felt like his insides had been ripped out of him, torn to bits, scorched, slashed, and utterly decimated, then messily rearranged and stuck back inside him. It felt so wrong, so purely wrong and unfair and brutal and cruel, that George should be alive without Fred. Mrs Weasley made herself busy in the kitchen by cooking the Muggle way, without magic, but could still be caught crying if one walked in on her preparing Fred's favourite meal – roast lamb with peas and Yorkshire pudding. Mr Weasley was under a great deal of pressure at the Ministry, what with damage control and all, but when at home, kept mostly to himself.
As for Ginny … she hadn't come out in three days except to go to the washroom or silently eat her meals at the table, after which she returned solemnly up to her room. Her behaviour did not worry Harry, who had known his fair share of grief in his seventeen years. He knew that she would come around … but he also knew that for her to 'come around' would be a long and painful road for her. Ginny would never completely be over Fred's death – none of them would – but some things, Harry knew, were so terrible and so dreadful that if you can't get past them, the best thing you can do is get away from them. Harry had unwavering faith that Ginny, his Ginny, would get away from it.
To see her so utterly wretched shattered Harry's heart, decimating it into a million shards that even a Repairing Spell cast by Dumbledore himself could not fix. Sometimes he could even hear Ginny crying through the thin wall that separated the bedroom he was sharing with Ron from her bedroom. He wanted nothing more than to take away every ounce of pain in her. Hermione was right, though Harry was reluctant to admit it. He did have a 'saving-people-thing'. Right now, he wanted to save Ginny – save her from the brutal descent she was uncontrollably spiraling into, to save her from the indescribable pain that was loss, to save her from … Harry didn't know what from. From something … something he knew would torment Ginny for the rest of her life, eat at her very flesh like a poison; like a parasite. Yes, Harry's 'saving-people-thing' was certainly awakened by Ginny's new behaviour.
Harry wanted to see her … he wanted to see her right now. He did not understand why the need was so suddenly urgent, he only knew that he would burst out of his skin if he did not see her, comfort her, maybe even – dare he even think it? – save her, right now. He ascended the stairs slowly and silently, contemplating what he would say. Blimey, what was he going to say? Hi, Ginny, can I save you? Somehow he didn't think that that would go over too well. In fact, he was quite sure she wouldn't have the foggiest idea as to what he was talking about. Still having no idea what he was going to say, he approached her bedroom door and traced the grain of the wood with his fingertips. He heard soft sobs coming from inside, ripping and twisting at his insides. Gathering courage (why was this so difficult?), he knocked on her door. When no reply came, he wasn't sure if she'd heard him, so he knocked once more, a little louder. Still there was no reply. This time, however, Harry put one hand on the doorknob and turned it, entering the room.
Ginny turned to face him, her tear-stained face making Harry's heart sing and break at the same time. Harry silently closed the door behind himself. His brilliant green eyes were met by the most beautiful chocolate brown that still never ceased to amaze him, even though they were shrouded with tears.
As he approached her bed, she used the cuff of her long-sleeved t-shirt (Harry noticed she had been wearing Muggle clothing lately) to wipe her eyes. Ginny avoided his gaze as he sat down on the bed next to her. Harry put one arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. They sat in silence for what seemed like hours – or was it seconds? – before Ginny spoke up.
'I missed him a lot today,' she whispered, her voice shaking. 'I watched you while you were outside flying on your broom. It made me think about him and George playing Quidditch for the House team and beating the Bludgers to pieces.'
Harry didn't know what to say. He'd gone for that broom ride to clear his own head – Fred had been as much his brother as Ginny's, and losing him was horrible in a way Harry couldn't describe. If Ginny felt at all the same as Harry did – and he was sure she did as much as she didn't – then she was feeling some of the worst, twisted, cold, empty pain she'd ever felt. His embrace around her tightened and he could swear she burrowed her head further into him.
If losing Fred was bad, then Ginny's sobs into Harry's chest were just icing on the bloody cake. It slashed at his heart a thousand times with a thousand swords when he heard her crying for the brother who would never again slip her a Puking Pastille when she wasn't suspecting, who would never again beat another Bludger straight into Malfoy's arrogant face, who would never again fling food at her from across the Great Hall.
Her sobs eventually subsided and she sat up and looked at him again. 'I'm sorry,' she began to apologise.
'Ssshhh,' he interrupted, placing one finger on her lips and then moving his thumb to brush away tear resting on her cheek. 'I missed him too.' Ginny closed her eyes. Having his hand on her and hearing his words was such a comfort … if only he knew how badly she had missed Harry. True, they had been living in the same house, but she felt as though she had not seen him in a century.
Harry entangled her hair in his hand, his thumb just behind her ear, his skin basking in the glorious softness that was bathing his fingers. Inhaling deeply, he allowed the intoxicating, mind-numbing scent to infiltrate his every fibre, making him feel so full of Ginny that it would be sheer torture to ever be parted from her. Their faces were so close now; as their foreheads rested together, he could count every freckle on her face and see every eyelash. Softly, his lips made contact with hers. It was perfect, just as it had always been whenever they kissed. A warm tear dropped onto Harry's cheek and melted his heart. Ginny's tongue traced the bottom of his lip and he granted her entry, and they kissed more lovingly than ever before, allowing each other's tongues to leave no territory undiscovered, untouched, untasted.
Harry felt as though he and Ginny had been sent shooting into their own universe, where nothing existed save them and the absolute, divine, comforting love between them. He was aware of nothing but the feel of the soft strands of hair in his fingers, the skin of her neck under his palm, the delicious, unique taste of her lips on his, and her warm soft flesh pressed into his. Ginny felt protected as though she were in an impenetrable sanctuary, a marvelous escape from everything called life. Here there was only love and Ginny and Harry and nothing else.
Harry leaned deeper into the kiss and Ginny fell softly backwards onto her pillow. Harry propped himself up over her with one hand, the other still caressing her hair. Ginny rested one hand on his back and played with the hem of his T-shirt, and then snaked it up underneath the fabric to touch the flawless, warm skin of his back. Dropping himself down next to her on the bed so they were both lying down, Harry placed one hand on Ginny's hip, stroking with his thumb. Harry's eyes snapped open and he pulled out of the kiss when after Ginny lifted up the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head, she started to fumble with the button of his jeans.
'What are you doing?' he asked in surprise. He realised, however, that that may not have been the best question. It was obvious what she was doing. But a combination of inexperience on Harry's part (and he assumed Ginny's as well), the fact that they were at the Burrow, surrounded by people who would murder Harry if they were caught, and a fear that Ginny may not be thinking totally clearly, stopped Harry from taking this where Ginny clearly wanted it to go.
Ginny looked up into Harry's eyes. 'Harry, I want this,' she said simply.
Harry was at a loss for words. 'Ginny, I want it too – believe me, I want it,' he half laughed. 'But we can't just … I don't know.'
'Why not?'
'Well, I – just – we – because!' Harry sputtered. This whole situation was leaving Harry tongue-tied. 'We're in your house. Your house full of other people. And I don't want you to make this decision just because you're – I just don't want you to make a rash decision, that's all.' Harry did not add that he was afraid that his innocence would lead to a somewhat disastrous experience for both of them.
Ginny didn't seem to want to – or maybe she just didn't have the energy to – put up a fight. 'Will you just lie here with me please?'
'Of course I will,' Harry vowed. Ginny rolled over so her back was to Harry, and he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. It was in this position, Ginny protected by Harry's surprisingly strong arms, that they fell into a deep slumber, and escaped to a world where nothing could touch them, nothing could harm them, and nothing could take them away from each other.
Author's Note: Thank you for reading, and please review if the spirit moves you!