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remedialpotions · 3 years

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Happily Impervious

It’s still May 10 in my part of the world, so here’s my humble offering to @clarensjoy ‘s Hinny Ficfest! Many thanks to Clare for arranging all of this and encouraging me to write. This fic is for prompt #52 - “People are talking about us.”

***

Ginny has just closed herself inside the stall when the door to the bathroom creaks open again, then slams shut with a thud.

“I just can’t understand what he even sees in her,” comes a loud, haughty voice that echoes off the stone walls. “She’s not even that pretty, really.”

“A lot of boys think she’s fit,” comes a second, more timid voice - one that sounds a bit nervous to disagree with the first. “I heard Jimmy Peakes and Jack Sloper saying how-“

“They’re just third years,” interrupts the first voice with irritation, “they don’t know what they’re talking about.”

Ginny’s stomach flips, because she knows this voice. She’s heard it carrying easily over the din of the Great Hall and disrupting the peaceful calm of the Gryffindor dormitories at night. It’s Romilda Vane - attempted poisoner of Ginny’s brand-new boyfriend and actual poisoner of Ginny’s brother - and just the thought of being near her makes her blood boil.

So she’s not sure why she does it. She should just wee and get the hell out of there. But instead, she climbs silently up on the closed toilet seat so that her feet won’t be seen through the gap between the stall door and the floor. Crouching low, barely breathing lest she give herself away, she listens.

“And anyway,” Romilda goes on as a knob turns and water gushes into the sink, “I’d rather die than have all that red hair.”

Oh. It doesn’t exactly come as a surprise, being the subject of Romilda’s vitriol, but Ginny expected something a bit more original than insults about her hair.

“Your hair is way prettier,” the second girl hurries to add, desperation from approval dripping from her words. “I’m sure he’ll come to his senses soon.”

“I hope so,” says Romilda. There is a pause as the water shuts off, and Ginny’s sure they can hear her heart pounding in her chest. “That, or she’ll end up chucking him. She goes through boys pretty quickly, doesn’t she?”

Ginny knows she should probably want to leap out of the stall and tackle Romilda to the ground, but instead she just rolls her eyes. If finally being with Harry means she’s had too many boyfriends - whatever that means - then so be it.

“Maybe when she chucks him for someone else, you can make your move,” adds the second girl, who Ginny now suspects is Romilda’s eternal shadow, Vicky Frobisher. “You could try the love potion again-“

“So I can spend my Saturdays cleaning the owlery with a toothbrush again?” interjects Romilda with such disdain that Ginny can clearly picture the sneer on her face. “It’s not worth it. But you know...” Her voice has dropped low, conspiratorial. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Ginny’s slipped him a love potion of her own.”

Vicky gasps, far too dramatically than the situation warrants, and Ginny’s body shakes with silent laughter. “You really think so?”

“It would explain everything,” says Romilda. “Why else do you think they’re suddenly snogging all over the place?”

At this, Ginny bristles. Sure, there was that first kiss in the common room, and there have been a few corridor greetings that perhaps got out of hand, but for Merlin’s sake, it’s not like they’re Ron and Lavender.

“Plus, she’s got easy access,” adds Romilda. “Her brothers are the ones sending out the love potions, aren’t they? I bet she’s got an unlimited supply.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” replies Vicky, sounding awestruck. “If only you could prove it, then she’d get detention too-“

Romilda laughs - a harsh, mean cackle. “I’d pay good money to see her sweeping up owl droppings.”

It’s not exactly comfortable, perching atop a closed toilet seat, and this foray into espionage is eating into Ginny’s lunch hour. As she peers through the narrow gap between the stall door and the wall, she sees that Romilda and Vicky are quite caught up in applying shiny pink gloss to their lips.

She simply doesn’t have time for this. It’s taking too much time away from Harry, and they’ve got so little time together anyway. And so - even though she still has to wee - she climbs down off the seat, flushes the toilet, and unlocks the door.

The girls are frozen with shock as Ginny strides over to the sink right next to Romilda and turns the tap on full blast.

“Oh, hi there,” Ginny chirps, beaming at Romilda’s stunned reflection in the mirror. “Love that lip gloss on you. It’s very - erm-“ Clearing her throat, she runs a bar of soap over her palms. “Sparkly. Boys like that, do they?”

As she lathers her hands with soap - and she really scrubs, too, just to drag out the moment - a deliciously heavy silence descends upon them. Ginny goes about her business as though nothing’s out of the ordinary, rinsing the suds from her hands and drying them off, but inwardly she delights at the panicked glances between Romilda and Vicky.

“Well, I’d better be off,” says Ginny brightly, tossing her hair over one shoulder and making for the door. “Those love potions aren’t going to brew themselves, are they?”

When she gets to the Great Hall, she finds Harry seated alone at the Gryffindor table. It’s still surreal that she can do the things she does - place a hand on his shoulder as she approaches, lean in for a kiss that he eagerly reciprocates, seat herself right next to him on the bench - and yet somehow it’s natural too, easy, like they should have been doing this for months now already.

“Sorry I took so long,” says Ginny as she pours herself a glass of pumpkin juice. “I got held up a bit. Where’re these two?” She gestures across the table to the empty seats usually occupied by Ron and Hermione.

“The library, apparently,” replies Harry.

“Ron’s spending his lunch break in the library?”

“More like spending it wherever Hermione wants him to.”

“Right,” Ginny chuckles.

Harry’s hand finds her thigh under the table, the warmth of his fingertips burning through the fabric of her robes. “Did something happen?”

“Hmm?”

“You said you got held up, is everything all right?”

“Oh, that.” Ginny takes a sip of pumpkin juice to stall for time. “It’s nothing really, just - people are talking about us. And I happened to... overhear.”

She quickly summarizes the highlights of Romilda and Vicky’s conversation, and by the end, Harry’s shaking his head in disbelief... but he’s also on the verge of laughter.

And it is so good to see him laugh. It’s so good to see this lightness come over him, to see him relieved of the life he has to live. In the face of a truly happy Harry Potter, what’s a bit of gossip, really?

“I’m so sorry,” he says, shifting in his seat to face her as her hand covers his. “I’m sorry people talk about us, that they say those things about you-“

“I’m not bothered,” she tells him plainly, and she’s really not. It’s annoying, but it’s so trivial that it’s not worth the space in her brain. “Not if you’re not.”

His face draws closer to hers, so close that their foreheads nearly touch. “I’m not either.”

Their lips meet - and maybe, Ginny thinks, maybe she will go snogging him all over the place, because if that’s the reputation she’s got then she may as well embrace it - until her recollection of how all this came about triggers something in her brain.

“I’ll be right back,” she says as she clambers off the bench.

Harry puzzles up at her. “You just got here.”

“Weren’t you listening? I never actually got to wee, and now I really have to-“

And she hurries toward the door with the sound of Harry’s laughter flooding her ears.

#hinny ficfest #harry potter #ginny weasley #hinny fanfic #HBP missing moment

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theroomofreq · 3 years

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change of pace

Hinny FicFest !! :') happy hinny kiss day, don't mind me showing up late to the party. thank you to the wonderful @clarensjoy for organizing the fun!

Here is a little OOTP missing moment, because I always need more of these!

prompt 50: "you were pressing on your scar again."

Harry stands at the top of the staircase, his knuckles are white as he holds a grimy rag in his hands. Mum’s put everyone up to cleaning Grimmauld Place. It doesn’t seem likely that they will ever get the house up to Molly Weasley standards, but her mum’s determined. Ginny didn’t think she’d see anything as dejected as this house, at least not until Harry showed up.

He came around differently this summer, taller, but his muggle clothes hang loosely on his body, large and worn. His eyes are still deep green, but not as bright. The dark circles under his eyes seem to be a permanent fixture on his face now. Ginny hopes the changes aren’t permanent. Even though the hearing is over and he can return to Hogwarts, he’s still miserable. And angry. He’s spent a lot of time shouting lately. His fury builds until he lets it out with a good yell.

Ginny feels that way too, especially when she thinks about Tom. He’s back now, but she doesn’t like to think of him as Voldemort. That’d be giving him what he wants. She won’t do that, not anymore.

Harry rubs at his scar, he’s been doing it more frequently. Ginny folds her filthy rag in her hands before she walks up beside him.

“You were pressing on your scar again.” She keeps her voice quiet, so she doesn’t rattle him too much.

“Err,” he tries to hide the motion by brushing some hair away from his face. “It’s nothing really, stings a bit is all.”

Ginny nods. “Looks like it might be worse than a bit.”

Harry looks at her with weary eyes, opens his mouth to respond, Ginny cuts him off.

“I won’t say anything to them, Ron and Hermione.”

Harry releases a small sigh, and his eyes soften.

“I especially won’t say anything to my mum.”

Harry ducks his head, and the corner of his mouth turns up slightly.

“Thanks, Ginny.”

Ginny nods again. Harry looks down at his rag and his smirk slides off his face. Ginny’s stomach sinks, he can hardly keep a smile up these days. She racks her brain looking for a topic that will cheer him up again.

“Only a week left here, it will be nice to go back to Hogwarts.”

Harry’s lips quirk up a bit. “I can’t wait to go back.”

“Me too. I’m really excited.” Ginny says, biting back a smile. “I hope those are the only terrifying things we have to deal with this year.”

Ginny points to the shrunken house-elf heads mounted to the wall behind them. Harry sends a glance toward the wall before letting out a low chuckle.

“That would be a really pleasant change of pace, honestly.” His face rests in an easy smirk, and Ginny smiles back earnestly.

It’s a slight moment but a nice one, Harry hasn’t smiled much lately, but it brings the light back in his eyes. Before she gets any longer to enjoy it, a loud yell from downstairs breaks the peace.

“GINNY, DEAR?!” her mum calls.

“COMING, MUM!”

Harry’s fiddling with the scrappy rug now, their time has run out. Ginny lays her own dirty cloth on the banister next to him.

“I better go see what she needs. Bye, Harry.”

Harry mutters a small goodbye and Ginny steps around him. As she reaches the bottom step Ginny wishes their moment hadn’t ended so quickly. She looks back up at him, the lines on his face back in place.

“Harry?” she whispers, cautious of Walburga’s portrait.

He looks up from his busy fingers to make eye contact with her, and Ginny presses on.

“Best watch your back now that you’re up there alone,” she says, and gestures again to the shrunken heads.

Her comment brings the smirk right back to his face, and a hint of mirth glints in his eyes.

“I should be able to handle it from here, thanks.”

#hinny ficfest #hinny fic #hinny #roomie writes

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better-than-firewhisky · 3 years

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Meddling

Happy Hinny Day!!

This is my little contribution to the Hinny Ficfest, so kindly organised by wonderful @clarensjoy. I’ve used the prompt 75, "By the gods! You love her... don't you?", though I’ve changed it a little to fit the fic better. Hope the prompter doesn’t mind!

I was (and still am) very doubtful about posting this or not. The last part is dreadful (I might change it if I can think of something better), so is the title, and I don’t think it’s Hinny enough for such an important occasion. But Clare has been very kind organising this fest and I don’t want to miss the party.

I have always loved the fics where Harry talks about Ginny to someone else, so here’s a little conversation between him and Hermione before Bill and Fleur’s wedding. It might be off character but, well, it’s called fan fiction for something.

Again, English is not my first language, I hate prepositions and adverbs, and I can be a mess with verb tenses. So, if you find any mistake, I’d be grateful if you could let me know so that I can correct it.

Thanks again to Clare for having organised this fest. I can’t wait to have the time to enjoy each and every work submitted!!

It was four in the morning and his mind kept drifting tirelessly from Dumbledore’s will to Ginny’s lips.

Though, being honest, and despite knowing that he should be more focused on the Deluminator, the book and the Snitch as they had to be somehow important, the remembrance of having Ginny in his arms again was becoming much more predominant in his mind as the minutes went by.

As if her mere presence around wasn’t making it already hard for him to focus since the moment he had arrived at The Burrow. Just an anguished half an hour next to her and he almost surrendered and threw his arms around her, without worrying about who else was in the room, just like the first time. And then she took his hand when she knew he needed it, so naturally it hurt.

He knew he was pining. He had been pining since he stood up from his chair next to Ginny’s at Dumbledore’s funeral, after doing what he knew he had to do but hadn’t had the guts to do before. It had already been bad when he was in Privet Drive, and now he not only smelled flowers everywhere but still could feel her lips and her body against his.

With a quiet groan, Harry removed the sheet that had tangled around his legs from tossing and turning for hours, put his glasses on, took his wand, threw an envious look to peacefully-sleeping-Ron, and left the room. There would be no way to fall asleep if he couldn’t take Ginny out of his mind, if he couldn’t stop wondering whether the kiss they had shared that morning in her room was definitely going to be the last.

He tried to not make a sound when he descended the stairs to the kitchen, throwing a longing look at the closed door on the first floor landing as he passed by it, exited outside and took a seat at one of the back steps to the dark yard.

He had his eyes fixed on the flag on top of the marquee, trying to empty his mind and enjoy the silence and the cool summer breeze, when he got startled by the sound of the door opening behind him. For a second he equally wished and feared it was Ginny, but turned his head and saw it was Hermione in her pyjamas and a dressing gown.

‘So you couldn’t sleep either,’ she said, sitting beside him. ‘I heard footsteps on the stairs.’

‘No, I couldn’t,’ he was looking at the top of the marquee again and his reply sounded drier than he’d liked. He wasn’t annoyed by her presence, but had wanted to spend some time alone all the same. Harry wondered if she had expected to find someone else when she had left Ginny’s room after the footsteps she had heard.

They spent some minutes in silence before Hermione spoke.

‘It’s been quite an overwhelming day, has’t it? With your birthday, Scrimgeur’s visit and Dumbledore’s will... and what happened this morning with Ginny…’

Harry immediately took his wand and casted Muffliato around them.

‘Are you mental?’ he said, ‘You could be heard, her room is just above us.’

There was another moment of silence, and Harry hoped that the turn Hermione seemed to want the conversation to take was lost with it. But he should have known better, he should have distracted her and kept on talking about what Dumbledore wanted them to do with the objects he had left them.

‘I’m sorry,’ Hermione was talking quietly, looking at him, ‘wish I had been able to keep Ron away from Ginny’s room for longer.’

Harry changed his stare from the top of the tent to his knees and gave a tired, resigned sigh.

‘It was not your fault, I shouldn’t have entered there… but I don’t want to talk about that.’

But Hermione completely disregarded.

‘Well, from what Ron has told me and the little I saw when I arrived after him, it seemed that you were enjoying it a lot for someone who reckons that he shouldn’t have been there.’

Harry groaned and finally looked at her. She had a little smile on her face, almost sorry.

‘So you and Ron have been talking about it?’ he asked.

‘Yes, we have. When you went back to the house after your argument we stayed a little longer in the yard. I told him he shouldn’t meddle like that.’

‘Bet he didn’t like it.’

‘No, he didn’t, but I can understand him, just like I understand why you followed Ginny into her room,’ Hermione made a little pause before she continued. ‘He said that you are like a brother to him, but she is his sister. He told me that she spent several days locked in her room when they got back from Hogwarts, and that she had a very long face. He doesn’t want her to feel that bad again after we leave.’

Harry looked back at his knees. He would feel guiltier if he hadn’t been in a very similar mood the weeks he spent in Privet Drive, but couldn’t avoid thinking that he was a prat, that he should have comforted her somehow when she couldn’t look at him after Ron had interrupted them instead of leaving the bedroom just like he did.

‘I don’t want her to, either,’ he said.

‘I know, Harry. And I know that you miss her too.’

Harry groaned again and rubbed his eyes behind his glasses.

‘Hermione, please, I really, really don’t want to talk about Ginny’.

But she disregarded again.

‘Really? Don’t you want to know that I have talked to her this afternoon too?’ Hermione asked, making Harry look at her again, now there was a mischievous smirk on her face.

‘What are you playing at? Look who’s meddling! You could use all that effort for -,’ but she didn’t let him finish.

‘She was angry, said she should have asked you to close the door with magic but she forgot. She’s told me that she couldn’t stand that your last kiss was an ordinary one, she wanted to give you a proper kiss before we left, one you would remember.’

‘Well, she did,’ he mumbled, noticing he was slightly blushing with the remembrance, thinking that he would remember every single kiss they had shared. ‘What’s got into you? You’re not this gossip normally.’

Hermione took some seconds to reply.

‘We’re about to leave, but we don’t know what we’re going to do. We’re here spending some days of summer in the Burrow as always, but everything's different. Everything’s strained,’ she paused again, and then shrugged. ‘There’s a wedding tomorrow, when will we have the chance to have a good time again? To celebrate something? I reckon we all deserve some happiness these days. You clearly miss Ginny, and she misses you too. I think you’re not doing anything bad if you two want to spend some time snogging before the storm.’

Harry laughed. How simple and complicated, all at once.

‘It’s not that easy, Hermione,’ he said, ignoring her sceptical look. ‘And you? Are you doing something that makes you happy these days?

‘Well, I must confess that Ginny has been some kind of inspiring today,’ there wasn’t much light at the Burrow’s back porch, but Harry could see that Hermione’s cheeks had turned light pink. ‘I want to have a good time tomorrow, I’m going to drink champagne and dance as much as I can, and whatever.’

‘And whatever?’ asked Harry, incredulous.

‘Yeah, whatever - whatever it takes me to.’

‘With a certain someone?’

Hermione didn’t reply, just blushed a little more and nodded very slightly, as if she didn’t want to confirm more clearly something that was unsaid - but very clear for Harry indeed.

‘I don’t think you will need to make a big effort to… whatever,’ he said, and both smiled at each other.

There were other few minutes of silence. Harry tried but failed to not think about what it would mean for their mission if something between Ron and Hermione happened before they left, or during the time they were away. It shouldn’t affect them much (after all, if things had taken a normal course instead of what had happened, Ron and Hermione should have gotten together last year), but maybe it would feel weird all the same, maybe he would feel a bit lonely, maybe he would miss Ginny even more.

‘Harry, can I ask you something?’ Hermione said, getting him out of his thoughts. He didn’t reply, but nodded. ‘This morning, when you and Ron were arguing about Ginny, there was a moment that you went from angry to… to some kind of miserable, I reckon,’ Harry nodded again, slowly, also feeling miserable again too. ‘It was when you said that she doesn’t expect you both to end up married… What -?’

‘I realised,’ he said before she could finish the question, slowly and avoiding her look, ‘that she is free and I’m not. That someday, she will marry someone.’

‘And you think it will not be you.’

He didn’t reply, the thought already felt way too painful in his mind, he couldn’t say it out loud.

‘Oh my God,’ she continued, ‘you love her… don’t you? You really do. I suspected it, but it’s true!’

Harry was not looking at her, but could feel her stare. The sound of her voice was excited, as if what she was saying was the best thing that could happen to him. But it wasn’t. He kept silent and she seemed to understand, for when she spoke again her mood wasn’t that bright.

‘In case you don’t know, Ginny is determined to wait for you.’

This made him even more miserable, though he couldn’t help feeling something very warm spreading in his chest at the same time.

‘She shouldn’t,’ he said. ‘I don’t know if I will be back, or how long it will take. She may be wasting her time’.

Hermione suddenly hugged him, it took him by surprise. He patted the arm she had on his front before she retreated. Harry finally looked at her and saw that she had watery eyes.

‘It’s not fair,’ she said.

They fell silent again, Harry hoped that the conversation was finally over. There wasn’t much more to say. The thought of Ginny meeting someone else, falling in love with someone else, went through him like a million icy knives. But he didn’t like the thought of sad-waiting-Ginny either. He just wanted her to be happy. However it was.

‘So what did Ron get you for your birthday?’ she asked, making Harry glad that the conversation about Ginny seemed finally over indeed. ‘He didn’t tell me.’

‘A book.’

‘Which one?’

‘Er - a book about Quidditch’.

‘What about Quidditch?’

‘It’s… some kind of guide… practical advice and techniques.’

‘You can give it to me in the morning if you want to take it with you, so that I can pack it with the rest of the books we’re taking’.

‘No, don’t worry, I’ll leave it here, I won’t need it,’ he said, thinking of Ginny.

They spent some more time there, not talking much, before agreeing that they should get back into the house and try to have some sleep.

When Harry woke up late in the morning he was alone in Ron's bedroom and could hear a lot of hustle from the yard. He sat up in bed, put his glasses on and found his copy of Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches exactly where he had left it the day before, on the improvised nightstand beside the camp bed. He took it and turned some pages randomly until something strange caught his eye, he recognised Ron’s handwriting below the title of Chapter 7, ‘So you messed it up: how to get your witch back’:

You might find this helpful someday.

So, after all, Ron was not upset about him and Ginny snogging or getting back together, he was upset about timing.

Harry smiled, planning to read Chapter 7 if he succeeded in finishing the mission Dumbledore had given him. There was nothing he wished more than the chance of being the man waiting for Ginny at the end of the aisle.

#Hinny Ficfest #Hinny #Harry Potter #Ginny Weasley #Harry/Ginny #Harry x Ginny #Harry & Hermione Friendship #Also some #Romione #Deathly Hallows #Sorry for the shitty ending #And the shitty introduction #And the shitty title #24 years since #Several Sunlit Days #Mine

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theclockworkmonk · 3 years

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Out of the Mouths of Babes — Chapter 5

AO3 | FFN

Previous chapter on Tumblr

Written for Hinny Ficfest 2021

Prompt: “Uncle Ron said something about Harry knocking Ginny up, but I don’t know what he means,” Teddy said.

*******

Harry barely reacted in time to put up a Shield Charm before two Stunning Spells shot across the kitchen table at him and deflected up into the ceiling.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" Ginny and Ron shouted at the same time, Ron flailing and tipping over backward in his chair.

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" Charlie screamed at Harry.

"Is he pressuring you into this?" Bill growled at Ginny.

"There is no reason to resort to something so drastic!" said Percy.

"And it's definitely not something to laugh about," said George.

Fleur was babbling a mile a minute in French, tears welling in her eyes and trying to get Victoire to stop crying.

Molly had collapsed into Arthur's arms and fainted.

"Have you lot all lost your minds!?" shouted Harry. "Why is it so important that I keep it?"

"What use do we have for it, anyway?" asked Ginny.

A second explosion of angry shouting erupted as all the Weasleys talked over each other.

"How in the WORLD is all this the appropriate response to Harry and Ginny living together!?" pleaded Hermione.

"THAT'S NOT — wait, they're living together!?" said Percy.

Hermione gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth.

"Oh please," George rolled his eyes, "Anyone with a brain already knew that."

"What!? Why didn't you say anything!" said Charlie, "We could have stopped this before it happened!"

"Gee, thanks, Hermione," growled Harry as she blushed harder.

"Then what the hell are all you gits talking about!?" barked Ginny loudly to cut through the cacophony of testosterone. "As annoying as you always are when treating me like an innocent girl, it makes more sense than getting upset about Harry's stupid Wizengamot seat!"

"Harry has a Wizengamot seat!?" asked Percy in awe.

"Don't get any ideas, Perce, Harry's taken," said George.

"Of course we're not talking about that!" said Molly, her voice shaking as she regained consciousness and stood up straight. "We're talking about the baby!"

Harry and Ginny looked sideways at Victoire.

"THE NEW BABY!" Molly shrieked, growing more exasperated.

"What, Hermione's baby?" asked Ginny.

Molly fainted again.

"Ex-CUSE me!?" cried Hermione as every head in the room spun to face her, Ron's turning a sickly shade of green.

"Oh...I shouldn't have eaten all those biscuits," Ron muttered fearfully, holding his stomach.

"Wait, Hermione's pregnant too?" asked Percy.

"No, I am not!" said Hermione forcefully.

"Wait, what do you mean 'too?'" asked Ginny. "Who else is pregnant?"

"THERE IS NO 'ELSE!' I AM NOT PREGNANT!" Hermione screamed. "Can we please establish that first?"

"Love, just calm down," said Ron softly, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. "It's okay, we can handle this. Why don't you just sit down…."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron, even if I were pregnant, if you start coddling me you'll regret it. Ginny, why the hell did you say that I'm pregnant?"

"Well she kept dropping hints left and right that someone was pregnant!" Ginny gestured wildly towards Fleur, who until now was doing a good job of avoiding the chaos, and blushed self-consciously when it was her turn to be the focus of all the anger.

"Ginny, just stop it!" Fleur lashed out. "I was trying to encourage you to come clean!"

"...Me?"

"Ginny, we know about the baby," said Arthur calmly. "We've known for days."

About a dozen different emotions collided violently inside Harry. He couldn't imagine what the expression on his face might look like. He slowly turned on the spot towards Ginny.

"I'm sure you're about to say something all noble and comforting," said Ginny dryly. "But you don't have to be that good of a boyfriend yet. No, I'm not pregnant."

"I applaud your performance, Gin-Gin," said George, "but nothing stays secret for long in this family." He jerked his head toward Ron.

"Wha—Why are you jerking your head towards me, don't jerk your head towards me!" Ron panicked.

"Why is he jerking his head towards you, Ron?" Ginny seethed.

"Hell if I know!" Ron said defensively. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, this is the first I've heard of any new babies!"

"Sorry, Ronniekins, but you spilled the beans to Teddy, and he sold you out," said George.

"You told Teddy that I'm pregnant!?" Ron flinched as Ginny smacked his arm.

"Using much more vulgar language," Molly whimpered, still trembling and desperately clutching onto Arthur for support.

"I did not tell Teddy that you're pregnant!" Ron spoke up. "I never even—"

He stopped speaking and his eyes bulged out. He and Hermione faced each other, realization dawning on their faces.

Ron's voice is small. "...Oh—Ow! Ow! Ow! Stop it!" he cowered as Hermione started furiously hitting him.

"You — complete — idiot Ronald Weasley!" she shouted with each hit.

Ginny's older brothers were looking far too pleased with themselves for her taste.

"Okay, so can we stop this charade now?" asked Bill.

"Okay, I don't know what this latest domestic incident is about," said Ginny, pointing at the sparring couple, "I just know that I'm not pregnant."

"Teddy heard Ron saying that Harry had knocked you up!" said Charlie.

"No….but I might have said that it was likely that he would knock her up."

Harry gaped at him. "Why were you discussing me knocking up Ginny at all!?" he demanded, as he physically restrained Ginny from attacking Ron.

"Because you both were being so bloody shameless!" Ron shouted back. "It's enough to drive anyone mental! Don't try to annoy your brother by having no self-control and then get mad when he says you have no self control!"

"I want the record to show that I did not partake in this line of reasoning and told him he was being ridiculous," said Hermione.

"Thanks for the support, Love," said Ron.

Bill, Charlie, and Percy all seemed to have deflated like balloons. Their faces matched their hair and they were looking anywhere but Ginny's furious face.

"Well...erm…." said Charlie, trying to keep his face stern, "Ron's right, you should still—"

"Oh, do not try to still chest-beat after you've all been exposed as idiots!" Ginny hissed. "You've all been absolutely terrible to Harry and me based on what a toddler overheard!"

"She is right," Fleur scolded her husband, rejoining the row now that she had calmed Victoire down, "If you zink zat she is pregnant, you should not start fights to stress 'er out! Shame on you!" Bill hung his head.

"You know, I really don't think that trying to manipulate Ginny into talking about it is much better," said Harry flatly, "You all need to mind your own business!"

"Yes, don't think I'm going to forget this any time soon!" Ginny waved a threatening finger at all of them. "Not only treating me like an idiot child who's been taken advantage of, but actually thinking we're stupid and reckless enough to unintentionally get pregnant in the first place!"

"See, Molly dear?" Arthur told his wife gently, "it was all just a misunderstanding." He had guided her into a chair and was trying to calm her down. Her breathing was quick and shallow and her eyes were darting around madly.

"...No. No, it all fit…" she shook her head violently, "They're covering it up. You need to tell the truth, Ginny!"

It was clear that there was no reasoning with her, she had become delirious by now from all the chaos and panic.

Ginny groaned. "All right, you want to settle this? Fine, let's settle this." And without another word, she marched out of the kitchen into the sitting room, threw some floo powder into the fireplace, called out "Diagon Alley!" and disappeared into the flames.

The kitchen was finally quiet for the next few minutes as Molly's breathing slowly but surely slowed down to merely anxious instead of an outright panic attack. Bill and Fleur were bickering quietly in French, while Hermione silently gave Ron her best "I told you so" look for not watching what he said around Teddy.

After what felt like an eternity, the fireplace roared to life again and Ginny marched back into the kitchen, dusting soot off her clothes.

"Where did you go?" asked Harry.

She held up a vial of clear liquid. "Apothecary," she said shortly. The unique shape of the bottle was instantly recognizable.

"Oh, well that's just great," said Ron tiredly. "Harry Potter's girlfriend hastily buying a pregnancy test potion, I'm sure that won't be in the headlines tomorrow."

Ginny ignored him as she skimmed over the card that came attached to the potion. "Okay, yeah, blue for boy, pink for girl, white for not pregnant."

She uncorked the flask, set it down on the table, used her wand to cut off a single strand of her hair, and lowered it into the solution. The clear, colorless contents of the bottle instantly started bubbling furiously.

"See?" Ginny barked furiously, "So, now that we've gotten this circus over with, I would greatly appreciate it if you gits kindly butted the hell out of my love life, and we can all….just….move….on…."

Her voice trailed off into nothing as her eyes remained locked on the vial on the table.

Which was now a bright, vibrant blue.

#hinny ficfest #hinny #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #romione #hinny fanfiction #hinny fanfic #hp #harry potter #ao3 link #harry x ginny #ron x hermione #ginny weasley #weasley family #farce #comedy #ron weasley #hermione granger

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booksforevermore13 · 3 years

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The Mystery Girl

This is my too late entry to the Hinny Ficfest. I just got to know about it a few days ago, and I just loved the concept of something solely being for Hinny fanfiction. I haven't been writing very long, but I just had to participate.

Thank you to @clarensjoy for organizing this!

Also written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition.

Huge thanks to my QLFC teammates for beta-ing this!

Prompt 68: "Are you just `going to stand there and gawk?" / "Yes." / "Well stop it. You look stupid." Prompt 23: "I'm not afraid of your sister, you're afraid of your sister." Prompt 29: "Do you even know what a whisper is?"

Summary: "I swear, if you're Draco Malfoy or another one of his cronies, I'll hex you where it'll hurt. Badly."

"I'm not," Harry replied hurriedly, though he suspected even Malfoy would answer no to that.

Missing moment in HBP between Harry and Ginny.

Read it on Fanfiction if you prefer.

...

"She's crazy," Harry heard Ron moan, "and just when you think you've reached the bottom of her craziness, there's a crazy underground garage," and winced as the latter banged his head on the table.

That morning, when the sky was barely blue with a chorus of greys, Harry had heard Ron scream bloody murder and shot up off the bed, only to see him behind a huge oval mirror — courtesy of Neville's grandmother — and went back under the covers. He'd figured that if Ron was potentially being threatened by a crazed homicidal maniac, he wouldn't have been screaming about it while standing behind a century old mirror. So he'd gone back to bed and been woken up an hour and a half later by a snickering Fred and George on a visit to Hogwarts, who'd informed him of a very distraught Ron in the Great Hall.

Of course, he'd rushed out, slipping on a shirt backwards, and scrambling towards the Great Hall, heedless of the beautiful day outside and how perfect the wind was for a game of Quidditch, closely followed by the twins, who snickered all the way there. It was only when he reached it did he fully grasp that the situation couldn't have been too bad if the twins were snickering.

Worst case was, there'd been a prank gone wrong. Ron being on the opposite side of it.

Harry squinted as he walked forward, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to discern the misshapen blob on top of Ron's head. For a second there, it did look like a spell gone wrong and Harry felt a twinge of panic as he walked faster. It was red from what he could see, and he came to a stop as he realised that it looked frighteningly like a poorly knit hat.

"Why," Harry said, still squinting, "are you wearing that?"

Ron didn't answer, instead wailing as he buried his head in his hands. Harry shared a look with a still snickering Fred and George who'd taken a seat on either side of Ron while Harry took the seat opposite.

"Beautiful hat eh, Ronniekins?" Fred said, in a vaguely condescending tone. "Though, if I might say, a poor choice for impressing darling Lav-Lav."

Ron didn't answer and let out yet another sound of anguish which sounded more like a distraught sob than a yell.

"Are you…. okay Ron?" Harry asked a second later, out of necessity more than concern.

"No I'm not okay!" Ron wailed, "I'm not bloody okay! Do I look okay? No! I'm wearing a bloody woolen hat in the middle of May!"

"We've noticed," Harry said, as he took small sips from his mug. "Why though, are you wearing a woolen hat?"

"Oh, let us," Fred said, a sly grin on his face as he bent forward and ripped Ron's hat off.

George howled in laughter as Harry choked and spluttered out his pumpkin juice, coughing violently as Ron lunged forward at Fred, who dangled the hat at arm's reach.

"You've got pink hair," Harry laughed at the same time Ron yelled at Fred to give back his hat or go and do something he dared not mention in front of Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, Ronnikins," Fred laughed.

"you look so awfully good —" George quipped.

"— have we mentioned?"

"Suits your brows," which were also pink.

"— and your eyes —"

"— not to mention the lips." George puckered his lips slightly, making a popping sound that only managed to anger Ron even more as he looked fit to murder.

"Mind your own bloody business," he yelled at anyone who looked twice at him, or more specifically, at his head.

"It's pink!" Harry giggled again, covering his mouth as Ron shot him a glare, before dissolving in hysterics again.

"It's lavender, I'll have you know," he grumbled.

Harry laughed harder, before finding it in himself to sober down. Fred and George, though, paid no heed as they continued laughing hysterically, Fred even going to lengths to ruffle Ron's lavender hair, met by a glare and a well-placed curse word.

"What were you trying to do?" Harry said, glancing at Fred as he bit back a smile. "Match with Lavender?"

"Sure, yeah Ron," Fred added, "it'd be even more fun to stick your tongue down her throat with that head full of hair of yours. Imagine her hands tangled in your lavender hair, her lips —"

Ron punched Fred in his side, cutting him off as he doubled over laughing, while Harry drew his legs in as Ron's flung over to kick his.

"Ginny did this, not me," he defended. "And I'm going to have it out with her, I tell you. I'll dye her hair purple, or green, or-or black —"

"Wait, Ginny did this?" Harry gaped. "Wow, I mean, bad wow, very disappointed wow," he said quickly as Ron shot him a look.

"You underestimate her," Ron grumbled, "she's the devil's spawn, that one, even worse than these two gits here." He pointed at a smirking Gred and Forge.

Harry smiled to himself, his cheeks reddening rapidly as he spotted George looking at him with a suggestive grin. Fred joined in, wiggling his eyebrows, and Harry ducked down in embarrassment.

"Won-won!" he winced as heard a shriek cut through the silence, "ohh, my precious Wonnie-boo!" He cringed as he heard Lavender making kissing noises as she ran over to where they were sitting.

"Murder me, Harry," Ron muttered.

"Yeah, no," Harry replied, "you're doing a pretty good job yourself," he shook his head as he picked up a piece of toast, quickly leaving as Lavender threw herself over Ron.

…

He was screwed.

His assurance of his screwed-ness became even stronger as he heard Filch hurrying down the corridor and calling out for Mrs. Norris. The dastardly cat was going to die a horrible death, Harry was sure of it, and he cringed as he heard another pair of footsteps right outside the broom cupboard.

The small space was cramped, just high enough for Harry to rise up to his full height, and it was dark. Pitch dark, and if this was the metaphorical colour black — as Luna so wisely commented time and again — he didn't like it very much.

Harry held his breath as hurried footsteps stopped in front of the cupboard and turned around to hide his face as the door opened, eyes blinded by the light outside. He heard the door close again.

And then the blackness resumed.

That was until he felt a hand push him backwards roughly and he shrieked, his hands going up in mock defence.

"Who the hell are you?" the person demanded, and Harry discerned it to be distinctly feminine, and familiar. Very familiar, he thought.

He stayed silent though, wary of giving his identity away to a girl in a broom cupboard. Perhaps, he thought, she'd get the memo and leave, though he couldn't for his life guess why she had been hiding there in the first place.

The girl stayed silent for a second, probably waiting for a response before she said fiercely. "I swear, if you're Draco Malfoy or another one of his cronies, I'll hex you where it'll hurt. Badly."

"I'm not," Harry replied hurriedly, though he suspected even Malfoy would answer no to that. But the girl seemed satisfied as she humphed and turned around. There was a soft mellow in the mystery girl's voice and he knew he'd heard it before, he just couldn't place where.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, before cursing under his breath. Normal conversation generally required a 'who are you?' and mutual knowledge of their identities, but clearly, that wasn't the case here, and anyway, Harry had a slight feeling that the girl wouldn't disclose her identity even if he asked.

He waited. And then sighed as the girl remained silent.

"You're talking too loud," she said finally. "Obviously, you're hiding in here from something, or someone," she snorted there and Harry smiled, "so if you don't talk softly, then you're going to get us caught."

"Filch's cat," Harry said.

"What?"

"I'm hiding from Filch's cat."

"Oh," the girl gave a humorless chuckle, "bloody thing's going to have a miserable death. I'm sure of it."

"So I take it you're hiding from her, too?"

"Filch actually," the girl said, "and I suppose that includes the cat too."

"What did you do?"

"Set off fifteen dung bombs in his office," and Harry could swear she had a tinge of pride in her voice, and for a moment, marveled at the nerve of this girl who'd threatened to hex his parts off the first minute they'd met, now claiming to have thrashed Filch's den. There were very few in the school who had the guts to do that, and Harry felt himself flushing as he wondered whether the girl in front of him was Ginny.

Before he could say anything more though, she stepped forward and pried open the door, peeking out to look for what Harry knew now was Mrs. Norris and her owner.

He caught a glimpse of her red hair as the door opened, and his suspicions about her identity grew and almost the very next second, the girl shut the door close, and he could make out her leaning on it.

"Bloody hell," she cursed, and Harry for the second time was flooded with how familiar that sounded, and how he had heard Ginny curse like that before as he felt her push him against the back wall of the cupboard and shuffle in behind him, so that now they were just barely touching, yet not, her body shielding his. Harry felt himself smiling at how the girl, who he had now deemed about a foot shorter than him, was trying to shield him from whatever came knocking on the door. The feeling felt almost foreign for him, for nobody before the Weasleys and Hermione had ever so readily provided a shield so unanimous and here was a girl, who could very well turn out to not be Ginny, shielding him from a petty predator.

However trivial that sounded, Harry felt a warmth blossoming in his chest.

"Just remember, if we get caught, you're deaf and I don't speak English."

"Huh?"

"I think Filch's coming our way," she explained.

"What?"

"Do you even know what a whisper is?" the girl hissed, and Harry's instincts went into overdrive as he clamped his hand on what he could hope was her mouth, pushing her backwards as he shielded her petite body with his, so that he was now between her and the door.

He waited for the footsteps to pass, completely aware of how close the two of them were, and he waited with baited breath as he heard Filch's grumbles get softer. The moment the sounds became distant, Harry yelped and snatched his hand away. She'd bit him!

"Lumos Maxima," the girl whispered and her wand lit up. Harry blinked as he saw her features come into view and her bright brown eyes glare fiercely up at him before they softened.

"Harry?"

"Ginny?" Harry said, more like a fact than a question, because he'd already known who it was all the way. He just couldn't believe he hadn't recognized her the second she'd entered the cupboard. It was hard not to.

Ginny laughed, and Harry turned red, satisfaction brimming in his chest as he took in her illuminated face. Her chuckles died down as she looked up at him.

"Are you just going to stand there and gawk?" Ginny asked, a smile playing on her lips, and Harry had an unexplainable urge to just bend down and kiss her. They were just a few inches apart, probably the closest they had been since forever, and it would take him to bend just a few inches to capture her lips with his.

"Yes," Harry found himself answering truthfully.

"Well stop, you look stupid."

And Harry laughed, and Ginny joined him, and Harry found himself just looking at her and thinking how beautiful she was. And not just beautiful, she was… radiant.

His hand was still pressed beside her head and she slipped out underneath it, the light in her wand dimming as she made her way to open the door.

"Aren't you coming?" she asked as the door swung open. Harry squinted, his eyes adjusting from the dark to the light as he, for a brief second, noticed how her red hair seemed to light up against the sun, making it seem as if it was on fire.

So he followed her out, and they smiled as they met each other's eyes.

Ginny noticed him before he did.

"Shit," Ginny cursed. "We're screwed."

Filch glared at them as Mrs. Norris purred, and Harry couldn't help but agree.

…

"Oh there was a time when they used to hang students by their thumbs in the dungeons," Filch said darkly. "Those were the days."

"I suppose you were hanged like that a lot," Ginny said sweetly, and Harry nudged her, sending her a warning look.

"What did you say?"

"They probably used your toes. Seeing your thumbs weren't large enough."

"Two months scrubbing the toilets with a toothbrush," Filch screamed shrilly, and Harry pushed Ginny backwards as the man advanced on her, Mrs. Norris following him.

He stopped as he saw Harry's menacing glare. "You, boy," he said, glaring at Harry, "you're going to spend a month in the dungeons. Scrubbing the floors till they shine."

"That's not fair," Ginny bellowed, and Harry pulled her away before Filch could open his mouth. He suspected if they stayed there for a second longer, there'd be murder committed. Or at least a heinous crime.

"Two months in the toilets," she muttered darkly as they walked down the corridors, "that lying, cheating piece of scum," she growled. "And his cat—oh, I hope that cat rots in hell."

Harry laughed, and then stopped as Ginny shot him a look, both of them lapsing into silence.

"Seeing your thumbs weren't large enough," Harry chuckled, seconds later. "You don't take things seriously sometimes, you know?"

"Never take life seriously," Ginny said, and Harry looked at her, glimpsing a side of her he hadn't seen before. "No one ever comes out alive anyway."

And though those words were too crude to be true, Harry agreed with them wholeheartedly.

…

"Wait," he said as they neared the Gryffindor common room, before laughing, "you dyed Ron's hair pink."

"Lavender, actually," Ginny replied, "thought it'd match his girlfriend."

Harry chuckled, shaking his head as Ginny grinned an impish grin. "You're scary, you know." The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Amazing, but scary."

Ginny laughed as she leaned against Harry's shoulder. "That's one of the best compliments I've ever received."

"One of the best?" Harry asked. "What's the best?"

"Oh. I don't know," Ginny shrugged, "probably on the lines of crazy ass she-demon who hides under children's beds."

"Really?" Harry laughed, "who said that?"

"Ron. I think Charlie agreed too."

Harry laughed and flushed as his hand brushed against hers. Instinct took over as he interlocked his fingers with hers and Ginny looked up in surprise, before relaxing into his hold, smiling happily. She was beautiful, Harry couldn't help but notice again as she swung their hands to and fro like two children.

But, he supposed, it probably wouldn't hurt being a child once in a while.

He'd never been one before — he'd at least never felt like one, even with Ron and Hermione. Like the entire world, they expected things from him, however few they might be. Ginny never expected; she'd always been the one to give without expecting anything in return. Never once, looking at him in pity or with a look that showed she understood everything he was going through.

She didn't, and she knew that and she made sure everyone around her knew it too. She tried to understand though, but if she wasn't able to, she didn't try further. Never pressed for more. Ginny, Harry had seen, was as open as he was withdrawn. What he saw was the truth — at least to him — and she was fiercely proud of that,almost daring anyone to oppose, but nobody ever did. He liked that.

Harry looked at her once again, smiling as he saw her glance at him through the corner of her eye.

"Oi, Harry!" He heard Ron's voice break through his reverie and felt a surge of disappointment as Ginny spotted her brother and let go of his hand. Ron was wearing that hideous woolen hat again, and Harry and Ginny exchanged glances, looking away to hide their grins.

"Heard you got into detention with Filch," Ron wheezed, "and you too." He pointed at Ginny.

Both of them nodded and Ron looked at them suspiciously before asking, "Were you two together all afternoon?"

"Yeah, well —" Harry looked at Ginny.

"We kind of fell in trouble together."

Harry smiled.

"Can't imagine why," Ron replied snarkily. "And you," he said, looking at Ginny, "don't think I haven't let you off the hook for this." He pointed at his hat, slightly grimacing.

"Didn't know I was on a hook," Ginny said cheekily. "I think you've lost your bait."

"Just taking pity on the number of toilets you have to scrub."

"I'll ask you for help if necessary."

Ron shook his head, exasperated. "He didn't do anything, right? Filch?" he asked, moments later.

"Relax, Ron," Ginny smiled, "I can take him any day."

They watched her walk away, a spring in her step, Harry with a smile on his face before Ron turned to him.

"I'm not going to see you with green hair tomorrow, am I?"

"I'm not afraid of your sister, Ron. You're afraid of your sister," Harry said and he grinned.

I think I'm in love with her.

...

#hinny ficfest #harry/ginny #missing moment in hbp #fluff #romance #humour #harry potter #ginny weasley #ron weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #gred and forge #written for the quidditch league fanfiction competition #hinny fanfiction #hinny prompt #the mystery girl

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startanewdream · 3 years

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Spotlight

For the Hinny Ficfest lovely organized by @clarensjoy, here's the first drabble set at some point after the kiss!

52. “People are talking about us”

It was on the third time their kiss was broken because of a fit of giggles that Ginny took out her wand.

‘I’m going to hex them’, she warned Harry, looking murderous in the direction of the laughing group, despite knowing it was useless. That group was too far now, going back in the direction of the castle, and Ginny saw it was probably Second or Third Years; she wouldn’t really hex them.

‘You’d think they’ve never seen anyone snogging before’, Harry noted, sounding more amused than anything.

Well, Ginny thought, not Harry Potter, that they’ve never seen before. Harry was a private person, Ginny knew, who confided in few and that usually guarded his feelings to himself.

Until that day, of course, because he’d surprised Ginny kissing her in front of everyone of the Gryffindor House, and Ginny would have never guessed in a thousand years that Harry would be completely at ease with that public display of affection.

Not that she would complain; the moment she’d felt his lips over hers, she’d all but forgotten about anyone else as if there was only Harry in her world.

It was an illusion that crashed easily as people applauded them; they weren’t even out of the Common Room and Ginny could hear the buzzing their kiss had stirred. And still Harry hadn’t complained once — not about the interruptions or the gawking that their holding hands had caused on students (and even some professors) while they walked around the castle until they reached the grounds.

In fact, Harry seemed to be finding everything funny; he still had that glowing smile on his face, the one that first shone soon after he kissed her for the first time, as if nothing in the world could trouble him right now.

And Ginny was still baffled to realize she was the reason for it.

‘People are talking about us’, Harry added, with a sigh, when Ginny didn’t answer him. His hand was tracing the shape of her lips, though Ginny hoped he knew by heart after all their activities of the afternoon. ‘I am really —’

‘It’s not your fault’, said Ginny hastily, taking his hand and entwining their fingers in support. ‘I know you don’t like the spotlight’.

Her commentary made a sparkle shine in Harry’s eyes. She could read the warm fondness there.

‘What?’

‘It was the first thing you said in front of me’, he explained. ‘When you were eleven and we were at Flourish and Blotts. You were always quiet around me but Malfoy accused me of —’

‘Of enjoying being famous’, she mumbled, forcing herself not to blush like she did that day. ‘Yeah, I remember’.

‘It was nice’.

Ginny shook her head, embarrassed.

‘I couldn’t speak without turning into a tomato in front of you, it was so silly’.

‘Not tomato. It was just the colour of… the setting sun’, he said dreamily, watching her with such wonder that Ginny thought he could be really watching the sunset. His other hand went back to caress her face; her heart beat fast as she approached him again slowly. ‘I liked that you defended me — I remember thinking you were rather fiercely, you know’.

‘Still under that impression?’

‘You are most definitely fierce’, he mumbled, and then their lips were meeting again and Ginny forgot all about being once too shy in Harry’s presence or the fact that people were probably talking about them. It was just Harry, and the way he touched her neck carefully while they kissed, and the quick pace of his heart that she could feel with her hand over his chest and — and then Harry broke apart suddenly.

Ginny would complain, but Harry was giggling and the sound was so carefree — so not usual for Harry — that she only watched him.

‘Harry? What —’

‘Malfoy’, he said, delighted, and that was the last word that Ginny probably expected to hear. ‘He was right after all’.

‘What do you mean?’

‘He called you my girlfriend’. Harry pulled her closer again, amusement dripping from his voice. ‘Who would know that git could actually foresee the future?’

#hinny ficfest #hinny #hinny fanfiction

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takearisk-xo · 2 years

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finally ready to tease my surprise!!!

#hinny #ttb ficfest #WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE #i’m so excited i’ve been getting little tummy pitter patters all week #be on the lookout tomorrow morning

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harryissuchalittleshit · 2 years

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we'd still worship this love

My (first) entry to the @cruelsummer-ficfest! I chose Hinny for my (first) fic and was assigned the song False God from the Lover album.

It's a "Harry and Ginny get back together the summer after the war" fic, featuring some mutual pining and really Harry and Ginny being hopelessly in love.

False God

We were crazy to think Crazy to think that this could work Remember how I said I'd die for you?

We were stupid to jump In the ocean separating us Remember how I'd fly to you?

~`~

Harry stared at the figure in the distance, her long red hair following after her as she flew in circles. That was how he felt right now, the distance, the confusing, circles seemed to be the only thing that made sense right now when nothing else did. He loved her still, had met his death for her, but it didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered with her in the air and him on the ground.

It made sense, he had left her, abandoned her when they had just started together. He had made a mess of things when it didn’t matter either way, and he had ruined everything when it did matter.

“You can just talk to her,” said Charlie, and Harry turned his head, he didn’t know Charlie as well as the other Weasley siblings, but he was Ron’s favorite of his older brothers…and he wrote Ginny the most often. She had made sure to write him at least twice a week, ever since her life dropped off when she was eleven, Charlie made sure that they never got out of touch again. “Don’t need to be staring at her from the kitchen window, acting all worried like mum.”

Harry blushed, feeling like an idiot. He could easily grab a broom and go chase after Ginny, make her talk to him. She was the easiest person in the whole house to talk too, especially with Ron and Hermione gone in Australia.

“Or you can leave her alone,” said Percy from his seat at the kitchen table, not looking up from his cup of tea. “She’s going back to Hogwarts in three weeks, let her be.”

Harry felt uncomfortable, he had once felt like Percy was an older brother, someone he could rely on, but he had betrayed them in the beginning of the war. He had chosen the Ministry’s story over his, and even though they knew now it was on Dumbledore’s orders, it didn’t hurt any less.

But Percy was right all the same. Ginny was leaving again for her final year, and Hermione was going to go with her too, hopefully finding her parents before they had to get on the train again. Harry didn’t even know if he could say goodbye, he loved Hermione as a sister and he loved Ginny…he loved her more than anything.

“Don’t be a cynic, Perce,” said Charlie, sitting down across from his brother, and Harry took this as his chance to slip out the back door. He could recognize an argument brewing before any of the Weasley siblings could.

He sat down on the back steps and watched Ginny fly, wishing that he could make himself get on a broom and follow her. He was tired of leading the way, he had been the focus for so long and he wanted to hide in the background.

But Ginny had never made him feel that way.

You can read the rest on Ao3!

#harry potter #ginny wealsey #my fics #hinny #false god #taylor swift inspired #head canons

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gryffindormischief · 3 years

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Simpatico

A/N: For @clarensjoy's hinny fic fest! Used a bunch of prompts and had so much fun. Thank you for organizing Clare! Thank you for the read @fightfortherightsofhouseelves

Also happy Hinny kiss day to all :) :) :) :)

FF and Ao3

----

Lee’s annual not Halloween “Fall Costume Party” has already ticked over into hour two when Ginny begins to seriously consider Harry has stood her up. Which is a pain in the arse in her situation because Harry not showing places isn’t just an easy “oh my fiance is a selfish prick” event. He could be bleeding and half dead in a ditch, locked in a dark wizard’s creepy basement, hanging from the side of the Gerkin with a tiny scared muggleborn in his arms, or any other number of heroic unselfish and decidedly un-prickish activities. In case that seems an exaggeration of Harry’s day-to-day exploits, not a single one of those events was an invention of Ginny Weasley’s admittedly active imagination.

In fact, two out of three happened the day of their engagement party.

Plus, Ginny knows he’s not a selfish arse. Generally, Harry Potter is a considerate and loving partner who’s unselfish almost to a fault. And really, if Ginny is honest with herself for half a second, all this ruminating on Harry and his failings or lack thereof is just one big fat distraction from her worry that he is in fact, lying somewhere in a ditch, etc.

Because if she is directly thinking about it, but doing so in a logical and occasionally cheeky manner, her heart won’t pound and her palms won’t sweat and tears won’t rise to her eyes when her engagement ring glints under the low orange lights.

She’s wondering whether another shot of firewhisky will make things better or worse when a low voice sounds from over her shoulder. “Did you get my note?”

A grin - wide and uninhibited - rises to her lips. She doesn’t turn yet. Just savors the warmth that runs through her now that he’s here. Engagement aside, she can’t let him know just how soppy he makes her, so she laughs quietly and shoots back, “Of course I got it. You taped it to my forehead while I was sleeping. Plus anyone outside of work you’d be with is here.”

“Pardon me for my thoughtfulness. You’re not always the most observant, Gin,” Harry says, now directly behind her and close enough that his breath catches wisps of hair that escaped her plait. “For example, you were supposed to wear a costume. A shoddy wig doesn’t count.”

Ginny sighs and tips her head back to rest on his shoulder, blinking up into his green eyes. “I am wearing a costume - look at my jersey. I’m Harry Potter. The Chosen One, Youngest Seeker in a Century, The Boy Who Lived - twice. Biggest claim to fame - Ginny Weasley’s #1 Groupie.”

He snorts.

“Ring any bells - wait.”

Harry lifts his brows as Ginny twists away to face him fully. “Is that a cat onesie?”

“Uh, no,” Harry sniffs, doing an excellent Percy impression, “I am Mrs. Norris.”

Some sort of brain numbing dance hit blares over the speakers and Ginny feels as if her entire body will vibrate with the base until her insides are repurposed as outsides. Harry reaches for her, but doesn’t guide them from the room, just pulls her closer.

Ginny takes full advantage of the situation, enjoying the view of his long wiry form on the way and then getting her first hand reminder of the feel of him up close and in person. He might be dressed as a cat, but damn if he doesn’t turn her to mush and light her on fire at the same time.

When Ginny manages to refocus, resettling her haphazard wig, Harry seems just as lost as she was only moments before. She runs her fingers along the braid that sticks from beneath her wig and twists over her shoulder, grasps the tip, and proceeds to brush it back and forth across Harry’s nose. He wrinkles his face up and squeezes her waist. “What gives?”

She fiddles with the zipper beneath his chin. “Nothing?”

Harry shakes his head, a smug grin rising on his lips that leaves her torn between dragging him off for a snog and smacking him. “Don’t get all cocky.”

"Nope.” Harry shakes his finger in front of her face. “I saw that. You just checked me out."

“I did not.”

“You think I’m fit - super fit,” Harry crows. “So fit that even a cat onesie can’t stop you.”

“I thought you were Mrs Norris,” Ginny says archly. “Besides, it’s not embarrassing to think your fiance is fit.”

Snickering, Harry leans in and kisses her cheek, snuffling when the cheap wig hairs tickle his nose. Still, he manages to mutter, “It’s embarrassing when your fiance is essentially wearing footie pajamas.”

“How about we unpack you checking me out while I’m dressed as you?” Ginny snorts, tugging on the zipper at his throat just enough to pull him closer.

“Fine, let’s stick with we’re just super into each other.” Harry smiles. “I like you a bunch, Ginny Weasley.”

Ginny lets her hands slip to grasp his, their fingers locking together like puzzle pieces, as she pulls him further away from the undulating dancers. The thumping music is quieter, their dark corner almost beyond the reach of multicolored lights that swirl around the room. Soon enough, Harry’s back is pressed against the wall and Ginny is almost too close for him to think straight.

“Nice specs, by the way.”

Almost too close. But not quite. If he let Ginny’s nearness get the best of him as often as she was near enough to get to him, he’d be a blubbering mess 24-7.

“Thanks,” Ginny says, pushing the lens-free frames up her nose. “So. Hypothetically, if two people liked each other - ”

“You never said you liked me back.”

Ginny pins him with a glare and continues, “If two people liked each other, what would it take to get the stupid guy to kiss the girl?”

“Well I’m a cat right now, so I’m hardly an expert in the ways of human love affairs.”

“Wow, you’re choosing cheek over a snog in a dark corner?” Ginny smirks, “Or are you creeped out to snog yourself. Might be kind of hot.”

“Except - ”

Ginny grabs the tip of his nose between her knuckles. “Yes, yes. You’re a cat. You could’ve been me. We could’ve done a couple’s costume,” she lets her eyes lose focus for a moment, “We could’ve snogged each other as each other.”

“That is sort of making sense to me,” Harry says, gripping her hips, "I think we need some time apart."

Ginny lets out a dramatic gasp, almost losing her precariously placed wig as she tips backward. “No! I almost have your brooding emo boy face down.”

“I take it back, I don’t want to get married.”

Immediately, Ginny’s face falls into a soft expression, eyes distant. “Sorry. Too late. We’ve broken each other in.”

“You’ve heard of the fallacy of sunk cost right?” Harry asks with a grin, the crowd dissipates a bit, a few stragglers stumbling toward the bar, most likely. Lee loves the unpredictability of an open bar at his parties. It’s not just a focus on the temporary wildness, Ginny’s fairly certain he uses it to get show material, or at least ideas of who to bug to get as guests. Then a few carefully placed questions...

“I can guess,” Ginny rolls her eyes, “But we’re essentially ruined for anyone else. You really think someone else will find you hot in a Mrs. Norris costume?”

Harry’s finger shoots into the air as he lets out a triumphant, ‘HA!’ that’s still mostly muffled by the music.

“Plus all that effort. I’m an ‘old has been with sad dreams of grandeur’ now,” Ginny sighs.

“The irony that Rita Skeeter said that about someone,” Harry mutters, ending on a chuckle as he finds the tip of Ginny’s braid and fiddles with the strands.

“Gwen was angrier than me,” Ginny says as Harry brushes the end of her braid over her nose, “I’m twenty something and she’s close to forty.”

“Back to the main point,” Harry cuts in as he leans closer. “We’re not us because we have to be.”

“Elaborate?”

“I dunno, you could - that bloke from Quidditch Monthly is a fan,” Harry says finally, nudging her nose with his. Harry puts on a nasal tone and parrots, “Though Weasley rides a firebolt, this author finds watching her streak across the pitch akin to a shooting star.”

“Nah,” Ginny shakes her head, “Not my type.”

Harry reaches to fuss with his hair only to get a handful of faux velvet shaped like a cat ear. “No attraction there?”

“I’m attracted to you,” Ginny brushes her finger over his jaw before pulling his gaze back to hers. “Not some swotty bloke who waxes poetic instead of reporting on my gameplay.”

“Sunk eight shots in the first forty minutes that day,” Harry says.

Ginny surges upward, grasping the back of his neck. Between the two actions she brings their lips together for a short, biting kiss.

Long enough, though, that Harry’s a bit dazed when she drops back onto her heels. Honestly, dressing as Harry was her best costume idea yet. Especially if she dresses like ‘I can’t be bothered’ Harry, which of course she did, because she’s smart.

Harry blinks. “So me, as Mrs. Norris is more enticing and attractive than your biggest fanboy?”

“Don’t forget quoting my Quidditch stats at me,” Ginny says with a wink. “And don’t sell yourself short, we all know you’re my biggest fanboy.”

He kisses her again. “Nonetheless.”

“Sadly, yes. You can show up in footie pajamas and apparently I still have the hots for you,” Ginny says, wistfully as she grasps the zipper on his onesie again, drags him close enough that their lips almost touch.

As she tilts her head back, Ginny lifts her free hand to hold her wig in place. Harry’s eyes dart upward, crinkle with laughter. “I would say I'm creepy for finding you this attractive in a me costume, but it’s really a pretty terrible costume.”

“Rude.”

Harry tugs at a loose tendril of her hair. “Yeah?”

She tugs the zip on his front down further and slips her hand beneath. “Yeah.”

Ginny clenches her fingers, gripping his t-shirt. Harry in turn, grasps her wrist. “What’cha looking for?”

“I’m just busy being disappointed that you’re not naked under there,” Ginny answers with a sigh.

“Wanna get out of here?”

In place of a response, Ginny grabs his collar and pulls him through the tipsy - drunken - mass filling the party and toward the floo. She turns, palm already open and waiting for Harry to drop his personal floo powder pouch into it. Instead, she finds Harry trying to fumble for the pouch through his onesie. “Alright there Harry?”

“Help?”

Ginny twitches her brow up. “Gladly.”

Her eyes don’t leave his as she slowly draws the zip down further, causing Harry’s breaths to quicken as she reaches inside and lower. Her touch lingers at the draw of his joggers for just a moment before turning toward the pocket and reaching inside. Ginny pulls it out and dangles the pouch in front of his nose. “Gotcha.”

Harry snatches it away and pulls Ginny tight to his side. He glances down, watching as she wraps her arms around his middle. “Get a good grip Mr. Potter.”

“Don’t let me go Mrs. Norris.”

Grimmauld Place is dark, quiet aside from the tick of the clock on the mantle behind them as Harry and Ginny stumble from the fireplace. Ginny turns to step further into the living area though Harry’s apparently not eager to let her leave his grasp. His arm stays banded around her middle, her back to his front and his lips increasingly enamored with her neck. And ear and - apparently just any bit of skin he can find.

“Take this off?”

“What?” Ginny asks, twisting around, her back arched away from him so she can look directly into his eyes.

“Ideally, as much as possible,” Harry says with a laugh. His touch rises to her hair, and then suddenly a rush of cool air hits her scalp as the admittedly terrible wig falls from her head. “But I meant that.”

Ginny winks. “You can leave your cat on.”

That brings Harry to a halt, his palms paused at her waist where he’s bunched her borrowed jersey. He blinks. “Really?”

His grip on her has loosened enough that Ginny can dart away and toward the staircase. Harry rounds the corner and follows her upstairs, taking them two at a time. Ginny turns back and grins. “Going to have to be faster than that.”

“I have socks for shoes, Gin.”

She shakes her head. “Too bad.”

Harry’s retort - whatever it was, ends with her jersey atop his head and her cackling laughter echoing from down the hall.

Eventually though, Harry catches up - if you ask Ginny it’s purely because she wanted him to - and the evening ends with all costumes discarded until the next time Lee has a bright idea about ‘getting the gang together.’ Ginny drifts to sleep, Harry snuggled close behind, just as the clock strikes the witching hour.

Ginny wakes hours later, a short enough time that it feels like she simply blinked, to an insistent tapping at the window closest to her head and increasingly frantic pounding at the door.

A grunt is the closest Harry comes to acknowledging the forces currently invading their sleep. Ginny prods his side, but he simply cuddles closer. She tries to wriggle away, muttering, “My hero.”

“S’just Ron,” Harry grumbles, then in a louder growl, “Ron bugger off. We’re engaged and tired.”

Another thud at the door and then Ron says, “Not according to the Prophet.”

Both Harry and Ginny jolt up at that, remarkably able to resist lingering on the swathes of skin revealed when they sit forward. Ginny turns when more taps sound at the window, there are at least three owls fighting for first access, Howlers smoking in their talons.

Ginny runs her hands through her hair, fingers catching on knots in the process. “Ron, what’s in the Prophet?”

“Apparently Harry dumped you last night.”

Harry kisses her shoulder and she can feel his grin against her freckles. “I most certainly did not, Ron.”

“Ew, please don’t sound so smug,” Ron groans, “And I know. You two are gross.”

“Stuff it,” Harry shoots back, pulling at Ginny’s elbow. “We’re tired.”

Another thud sounds at the door, likely the result of Ron kicking at it helplessly. Then a long sigh, “Me too, mate. Future reference, maybe keep the sassy faux break ups to non-public venues?”

Ginny twists beneath the sheets, slants her lips across Harry’s, feels his body waking against hers. “Ron?”

Harry groans. “Please don’t when things are picking up downstairs,” he glances at his lap.

“Ron, go snog Hermione - or buy some earplugs,” Ginny continues. When his muttering and footsteps fade down the hall, Ginny turns back to Harry. “And you, how about some ‘partnered relaxation techniques’?”

He pulls her atop him and tucks his hands behind his head. “Have at it.”

#hinny ficfest #blarg writes things #blarg writes hinny #harry x ginny #hinny #hinny fic #harry x ginny fic #harry potter #ginny weasley

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harryandtheweasleys · 3 years

Text

Molly: I raised a perfectly well behaved, sweet daughter

Harry: you have a daughter, I don't know about?

Molly:

#molly weasley #harry potter fanart #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harrry potter #ginny weasley #ginny weasley fanart #hinny #hinny ficfest #hinny wedding

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secretkeeper13 · 3 years

Text

Quiet

66. “That was the last time. I’m serious this time.”

My little ficlet for the Hinny Ficfest organized by the lovely and wonderful @clarensjoy! Thank you so much for organizing it Clare, I can’t wait to read them all (and I’m already regretting having a busy work day tomorrow). This was inspired by a conversation on the Hinny Discord a few weeks ago- thank you to @katie-with-the-tea for telling me I should write it and to @thedistantdusk for reading it through for me. Also on Ao3.

“It’s so quiet,” Harry murmured.

They sat on a chaise lounger out in the garden, the pair of them sipping wine, watching the sun as it slipped down under the horizon on the warm June night. Ginny sat between his outstretched legs, her back resting against his chest, her hair gleaming red and gold in the fading light from the setting sun.

“It’s nice isn’t it?”

“Mmmh,” he hummed absently, wrapping his arms around her middle.

It was a rare peaceful night in the Potter house, James having stayed the night at George and Angelina’s, leaving only Albus and Lily, who were exhausted after a day spent at the beach at Shell Cottage. Both were fast asleep by eight, so he and Ginny opened a bottle of wine and headed out to the garden to enjoy the fading summer day.

But if he was honest, as lovely as the quiet moment was, it was a bit unsettling. He’d grown accustomed to the constant noise and commotion- the usual rows between James and Albus, the hubbub from any number of visiting nieces and nephews or Teddy, and the endless chatter from Lily.

“I suppose we may finally be in for some nights like this, now that they’re getting older,” Ginny commented, setting down her glass on the side table and placing her arms atop his, tracing light patterns on his forearms with her fingers.

She was right, he realized, and he suddenly understood why the quiet house caused him unease. Lily had just turned five. James would be off to Hogwarts in two years. They were growing up.

It seemed like yesterday that he’d held them in his arms as babies- James, always active and wriggling, Albus, soft and snuggly, his warm weight solid on his shoulder, Lily, all smiles, coos, and babbles. And he missed it.

“ You’re quiet,” she said softly, her fingers still ghosting across his forearms. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking how much I enjoy sitting with you like this,” he said, placing a gentle kiss on the side of her cheek and then moving his chin to rest atop her head.

It wasn’t a lie. He loved this, having a moment with Ginny all to himself. And he didn’t want to ruin it.

She scoffed. “Nice try. I can tell there’s something on your mind.”

As always, she’d seen straight through him.

He sighed. “Gin, what would you think about another baby?”

She turned her head and fixed him with an appraising look, her brow raised. “I think you shouldn’t think about having another baby.”

“You said that after Albus, and then we had Lily.”

“That was the last time. I’m serious this time.”

He chuckled and nuzzled her neck. “Are you sure?” he asked, as he kissed down her neck. “Because I really like making babies with you.”

“Mmmh,” she sighed, her body relaxing back into his as he hit that spot just below her ear that he knew she particularly enjoyed. “Don’t try to distract me.”

“But I like distracting you,” he said, now kissing onto her collarbone, reminded of those golden hours spent by the lake at Hogwarts doing this when Ginny was meant to be revising.

Suddenly, she pulled away and removed his arms from around her middle. She turned to face him, sitting on her knees in between his legs.

“What’s this really about, Harry?” she said, her tone gentle, as she brushed her hand through his hair. “I’ve been on the potion since Lily, and I thought we both agreed that three was it.”

He looked down as he tried to collect his thoughts. She waited patiently, as she always did when she could tell her was on the verge of sharing something.

“Do you ever miss having a baby?” he asked, taking her hand and toying with her fingers. “The way they’d fall asleep all cuddled up and heavy on your shoulder, or smile at you for no reason, like you’re the best thing they’ve ever seen? I suppose I’m realizing that we won’t ever have that again.”

Her face softened. “Of course I miss that,” she said, and he could hear the wistfulness in her tone. “Merlin, don’t even get me started on that new baby smell.”

“But Harry,” she continued, her tone firmer, “I don’t miss being pregnant, or awful nights where they’d wake up every hour, or sore nipples, or dirty nappies, or-“

He chuckled. “All right, I get it.”

He looked past her up to the sky. The sun had set and night had begun to fall, a dusky purple descending on the garden. A metaphor for our childbearing years, he thought forlornly.

But Ginny was right. They’d agreed three was it. Really, even if they hadn’t agreed, it was her decision- it was her body, after all. And yet, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to let this part of their lives go.

He sighed again. “I just… I worry we may regret it later. Not having another. And would four really be that much more difficult than three? It’s already a madhouse here most days.”

Her eyes twinkled in the dying light. “Harry,” she smirked, “You realize that’s exactly what my parents said, and then they got Fred and George.”

His eyes widened. Fuck, I hadn’t even considered that.

Four was one thing. Five was an entirely different story. The image in his mind of one baby, cuddly, smiling, and cooing “Daaa” just the way Lily had was suddenly replaced by two squalling, wailing, colicky newborns, each crying on and off during a sleepless night. His mind jumped to the thought of two toddlers, one trying to boost the other up to climb the shelves in the scullery while teetering precariously on the edge. And then to two six year olds, colliding mid air on brooms while throwing fireworks, as he chased after them on the ground, grey haired and exhausted.

She laughed as she took in his horrified expression.

“You’re re-thinking this whole let’s-have-another-baby proposition now, aren’t you?”

He grinned sheepishly. “After further consideration, I think you’re right. We agreed three was it. We’re done, yeah?”

She smiled at him and leaned in closer, until her face was inches from his.

“Yes,” she whispered, her breath warm on his lips. She kissed him deeply, her fingers threading and wrapping into his hair, and he was lost in her, like always.

When she pulled back, he was still slightly dazed. “I think we should go upstairs now,” he murmured.

“I think that’s your best idea tonight,” she replied, standing up and then extending her hand to him.

“And since we don’t have a baby,” she continued, her brown eyes blazing in the low light, “we won’t be interrupted.”

#hinny ficfest #hinny fluff #domestic hinny #it's personal #my husband and I have this conversation periodically #twins scare me

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