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takearisk-ao3 · 1 year
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HELLO!!! i have risen from the dead of holidays and illnesses to finally post my last three contributions to @hinnyfest (hope its okay i’m a month and a half late)
i’d also like to give a massive, huge, overwhelming thank you to @constancezin for this stunning art of Ginny’s Christmas party dress. this art goes along with prompt 22: hogsmeade date. i am so in love with it, sometimes i just open the image and stare at it to feel all giddy and happy inside. 
THERE IS NO THIRD prompt 1: first i love you
TENTH ANNIVERSARY prompt 2: i did something bad
SOMEONE NEW prompt 4: holyhead harpies locker room
RON INTERRUPTS... AGAIN prompt 7: getting caught in the act
FEBRUARY 14TH, 2013 prompt 12: valentine’s day
LET HIM BE A BLUDGER prompt 14: family quidditch
PERFECT prompt 20: talking about the future
YEAH, PUMPKIN? prompt 21: you stole my heart, but i’ll let you keep it
FEBRUARY 14TH, 2004 prompt 22: hogsmeade date
THERE’S NOTHING LEFT TO TALK ABOUT prompt 26: you are my home
KISS ME prompt 29: ginny meets harry before the sacrifice in DH
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enigmaticemperor · 1 year
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Ron is the biggest Hinny shipper, and I stand by it.
Prompt #15 of @hinnyfest: "Who says we can't get married now?"
Also on ff.net and AO3
"I would bloody destroy you!" Ron shouted. 
All three of them were heavily drunk. It was Percy's engagement party, and Harry, Ginny, and Ron couldn't bear Percy shouting one more time at them because the flower vases weren't exactly at the centre of the table or something like that. Also, the songs were dreadful.
"Oh, yeah? I would crush you to pieces!" Ginny countered.
Hermione left early with her parents. And now, the three of them were at the Burrow's dinner table. 
"No fucking way!"
Ginny and Ron were arguing. About what, Harry had long forgotten.
"I'll beat you so bloody bad that you won't get out of bed for days!"
Harry downed the rest of the firewhiskey and slammed the bottle down on the table, startling both of them.
"Ask Harry!" Ginny told Ron.
Ron nodded vigorously and asked, "So, who do you reckon, Harry?"
Harry rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing how to tell them he wasn't following their shouting match.
Ginny saw his confused look and explained in a far sweeter tone than she used on Ron, "Ron and I are arguing about who knows you better. Tell him that it's me, Harry." She looked at him expectantly with heavy-lidded eyes.
"Like hell it is!" Ron slammed a fist on the table, looking at Harry. "He's my best friend!"
"And he's my fiancé!"
Harry was sure they knew him almost the same amount, though Ginny might have an edge.
"Ok, how old was he when he first had ice cream?" Ron asked, looking at Ginny with determination.
Ginny's expression matched her brother's. "Seven. You have to be better than that, Ron."
Chocolate, he thought fondly. Charles from school was always friendly to him. On his birthday, Charles’ parents brought ice cream to school, and Charles distributed it to the whole class. He remembered to give him his ice cream away from Dudley.
"What was the first thing Tonks got Harry?" She smirked, knowing that Ron wouldn't know this.
Ron smirked back, and Ginny's smile faltered. She thought he wouldn't know this. "A toy Hippogriff. Harry was three months old."
Sirius told him this. He was surprised that Tonks knew him as a baby.
Ginny's jaw dropped. "How the fuck do you know?"
"Sirius told Harry. Harry told me. What did Harry call it?"
"Giff!" She shouted back at him, frustrated.
She didn't have to think about her next question. "What does Harry think about those horrid orange posters in your bedroom?"
"He thinks they're hideous." Harry turned to Ron to try to deny it, even though he knew it was spot on.
Ron shook his head at him and said, "You're just too good to say so." 
Harry relaxed back in his chair now that it was settled.
"When will Harry be made Deputy Head Auror?" Ron leaned back in his chair too. This was classified.
Ginny grinned proudly at Harry. "The first of September."
"Harry!" Ron turned on him. "That's classified!"
"Not to Ginny, it isn't," he smiled.
"It's your fault," Ron accused her playfully.
"I hate you too, Ron."
Ginny took a sip and asked, "When are we getting married?"
"December 18th."
"Nuh-uh," Ginny wagged a finger. "16th."
Harry looked at Ron apologetically. "We wanted two more days for the honeymoon. We haven't told anyone yet."
Ron grumbled that he was mad that his sister and his best friend didn't tell him, the person who was the most excited about their wedding.
"Who says we can't get married now?" He heard Harry telling Ginny.
"Yes!" He beamed. 
"You just want me to be wrong," she accused.
"No," he frowned. "It's not because of that. I know you two wanted to get married since before you started dating - "
"Exaggeration," Harry and Ginny said at the same time.
He waved them off, and barrelled on, "Besides, I know you're frustrated with all the wedding planning. I'll be your witness." He reached for both of their hands and held them in his.
"That's an idea," Ginny said, after a moment.
Before their drunk selves could actually get up to go to an official, they heard Molly calling for them.
They quickly shot up, and Harry reached for the hangover potions in his pockets, Ginny charmed away the smell and cleaned the table, and Ron disposed of the bottles, and both he and Harry moved around the room to get rid of any other evidence of them drinking. Ginny moved towards one of the cupboards to make a show of searching for the cutlery that her mother had sent them for in the first place.
They did this so swiftly and in tandem that, to an onlooker, they had been practising this for years.
As Molly started scolding them for not being fast enough, Harry and Ginny thought that maybe Ron was onto something.
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startanewdream · 1 year
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For @hinnyfest, prompt #2: "I did something bad..."
***
There was a handkerchief on Ginny's hand so twisted that it reminded Harry of a rope. He paused behind her, hands searching for the knots in her neck that were usually enough to calm her; but Ginny jumped, face blushing at the sight of him.
"Hey."
"Hey there." He sat next to her, gently taking the handkerchief out of her hands. "Oh, I liked this one."
"We can iron it later," said Ginny, sounding guilty.
"It's just a handkerchief—why do you look like you've just waken up a basilisk?"
She blinked. "What?"
"It's just—I think the last time I saw you so nervous you were about to tell Ron and I about the Chamber."
"Oh, no." She rolled her eyes. "Nothing as grave—not criminally, at least. Unless we are counting the murder of my dignity." He waited. Ginny bit her lip. "I did something bad."
Harry nodded. "We can hide the body."
"What?"
"I know you—if you murdered someone, they probably deserved it. Better not confess to an Auror next time, though."
Ginny laughed, some tension leaving her shoulders. "It's not grave, remember? I'm just—embarrassed, that's it."
"Embarrassed as you sending a dwarf to sing a Valentine's card?"
"Embarrassed as I might hex my fiance if he keeps making fun of me." Her words were threatening, but Ginny was smiling again. "And that would look extremely embarrassing for you, Mr. Auror."
Harry pretended to zip off his mouth. Ginny got closer, allowing for him to place his arms around her shoulders and bring her closer.
"Embarassed as do you remember before the Battle, when you needed to go to the Ravenclaw Common Room and I insisted that Luna should go with you, instead of Cho Chang?"
It took a moment for Harry to recollect the exact memory. "Oh, yeah. You sounded fierce, very protective."
"I sounded stupid," she disagreed. "We were at the edge of the war, Voldemort was coming and I got jealous. But I thought—hey, I was young and naive. I wouldn't do that again."
"But then—"
She sighed. "Then we were at the Leaky Cauldron tonight and Cho showed up for our meeting, I wasn't expecting and—and I told her we are engaged."
"Oh." Harry blinked, confused. "That isn't a crime."
But Ginny shook her head. "I haven't even told most of my friends yet, and then—ugh, why do I still feel like a teenage girl unsure of everything around her?"
"I have no idea." He placed a kiss on her forehead, eyes closing when the smell of her shampoo overwhelmed him. "If anyone should be self-assured and arrogant, it should be you. You—you are perfect."
She laughed, not taking him seriously. "I'm not. I'm—it's pathetic, actually."
Harry twisted the handkerchief. "If it helps—when we were discussing the guest list, I almost asked you not to invite Dean."
"What?"
"Yeah, I know. And worse—I wanted to include Viktor Krum in the list."
"Viktor Krum? Other than annoying Ron, I don't see—"
"He was attracted to you."
"I don't remember meeting Krum—"
"Bill and Fleur's wedding." Harry fought an urge to hide his face. "We were sharing a table, he didn't know who I was, and then he asked if you were seeing anyone because you were very good-looking. And I said you were, a jealous type, big guy, one he wouldn't want to mess with."
Ginny blinked. Twice. And then a grin took control of her face as she moved to give him a kiss that Harry wasn't sure he deserve, but he wouldn't complain ever.
"Jealous type, ugh?" she teased when they broke apart. "I can see we are perfectly matched."
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hinnyfest · 1 year
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30 Prompts
Post when you can, throughout November, tag us, use #hinnyfest and share Hinny's love for everyone to enjoy!
First i love you
‘’I did something bad…’’
Sirius' birthday
In the Holyhead Harpies locker room
HBP Missing Moment
"You are speaking about my future wife/husband. Be more respectful".
Getting caught in the act.
Ginny vs Dursley
"You're not wearing any underwear, are you?"
I'm so lucky to be able to live this life with you"
Nightmares.
Valentine's Day
Talking about the war
Family Quidditch
"Who says we can't get married now?"
Sharing Firewhiskey
''We're locked up.''
Sharing a sweater
''She/He has a crush on you''
Talking about the future
"You stole my heart but I'll let you keep it"
Hogsmeade date
Kiss cam!
Caring for each other after an injury
Molly and Arthur notice Hinny
''You are my home''
Potter-Weasley Kids
'I'm glad you're alive''
Ginny meets Harry before the sacrifice in DH
Getting to know the parents
"For thousands of nights I dreamed of making love to you. No one on earth has ever hated sunrise as I do."
Seasons Of Love
Summer Couple vacation // “Have you never been to the beach?” Spring Hinny Missing Moment // “Are these flowers for me?” Autumn “Can we stay home today?” // Date night Winter Exchanging gifts // First post-war Christmas
Choose one of these prompts, or both, and write or make art about this couple we love so much!
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art by @constancezin
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ginnyw-potter · 1 year
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It's You
Written for Day 5 of @hinnyfest
Prompt: HBP missing moments
“You’ve been more relaxed lately,” Ginny noted as they walked by the lake together. 
“Hm?” Harry asked as Ginny pulled him along behind a group of trees that would hide them from view. 
“Yes, you’ve been smiling more, you’re not so tense… and I know you have a lot going on with Draco, Dumbledore, detention… so what changed?” she asked, sitting down on the grass. 
He sat down beside her and looked at her dumbfounded. “Isn’t it obvious?” 
“Am I missing something?” she asked with a frown. 
“Gin,” he said. “What changed recently?” He got closer to her and her arms landed around his neck. 
“I don’t know?” 
He kissed her softly. “It’s you.” He watched as Ginny’s cheeks tinted pink. 
“Oh.” She pulled him closer again and kissed him. “Well then, I guess it’s my duty to keep it that way.”
She’d always give him such a piercing look when she said things like that and it turned his brain to mush, all he wanted to do was hold her closer, kiss her deeper. 
“I do wonder when you started being interested in me…” she said. 
Harry chuckled. “Looking back on it… probably started having feelings for you a good few months ago … at least when I saw you kissing Dean I should have figured it out, but I didn’t.” 
Ginny cringed at Dean being mentioned. It had definitely been a bit awkward between him and them since they got together. 
“What really did it were the dreams I started having, never dreamed about a girl like that before,” he admitted. 
Ginny looked at him with interest. “Like what?” she asked teasingly. 
Harry felt his cheeks heat up, to the great amusement of Ginny when she noticed his blush. He shook his head rapidly. He cursed inwardly. The conversation always flowed so easily with her that he often found himself admitting to things without even thinking about it. 
“Come on, Harry, you can tell me, it’s just us,” she said, scooting closer to him, a hand coming to rest on his leg as she turned towards him. 
Harry swallowed hard. “Let’s just say that I am glad that Ron doesn’t know Legilimency.” 
Ginny’s smile widened. “Really?” She was practically in his lap now, far too pleased with the effect she had on him. She pressed up against him, her lips to his ear. “Like this?” 
His hand came to rest on the small of her back. “Getting closer.” 
“To your dreams or do you mean us physically?” Her soft brown eyes landed on his, she licked her lips without breaking eye contact. 
“Both.” 
She moved so she was entirely between his legs and leaned on him completely, her lips reconnecting with his for a heated kiss as her hands roamed his body. Harry hesitated about what to do with his hands other than holding her waist but Ginny must have read his mind. 
“What do your hands do in your dreams?” she asked, cheeks flushed, eyes eager. “Go on, I know you want to.” 
He didn’t need to be told twice.
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curse-04 · 1 year
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Written for @hinnyfest
Prompt 5: HBP missing moment.
-------
Harry closed the Portrait Hole behind him as Ginny walked through. The Fat Lady was smiling down at them both, but they only had eyes for each other.
He had kissed her.
He had kissed her.
He felt like screaming those words to the stars, he was so happy. One of the major reasons for his happiness was that Ginny had yet to stop smiling, which probably meant that she liked him back. Why did he suddenly feel like squealing? Oh, yes, the redhead beside him. Yeah, that made sense.
"How long?" Ginny asked, and Harry caught on immediately. 
"Months," Harry said. "The first time I noticed something was on would be around the time I caught you and Dean snogging. I wanted to rip his head off," he confessed with an embarrassed grimace.
Thankfully, Ginny only laughed. "So I'm forgiven for wanting to hex Cho?" 
"Yep," Harry said. "As long as you're okay with you and I going out," he glanced at her, only to see that she was tapping her chin in thought.
"I'd like that, I think," she said after a moment. "After the way I kissed you back there, do you really think I wouldn't be?"  
Harry blinked, stopping in his tracks as the words left her mouth. "You kissed me?" He asked with a smirk, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I'm pretty sure I was the one that kissed you, Weasley." 
She scoffed, though a smile was present on her face. "Oh, please," she said. "I ran at you." 
"And I leaned down," he countered, repeating the action. "Like this," he added softly. 
She gulped. "That's not fair," she whispered, staring into his eyes and pouting. He had the mad urge to suck the lip into his mouth. 
He didn't get to act on that urge though, as Ginny reached up, and kissed him full on the lips again. He responded a moment after he got over the fact that he was kissing Ginny. Again.
God, he was in so much trouble... and he did not care. 
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blackione · 1 year
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Harry y Ginny como la luna y el sol porque estoy obsesionada con el concepto ultimamente.
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corneliaavenue-ao3 · 1 year
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I wrote a poem (you say what a mind)
Written for @hinnyfest this is Prompt 3: Sirius's birthday!
AO3
Ginny Weasley is an expert in many things: Quidditch, the bat-bogey hex, but especially making birthday cards. And Harry needs help getting Sirius a birthday gift. 
Ginny barely made it back to the common room before curfew was up. Umbridge had overheard Ginny mock the high pitched “Hem hem!” in the back of the Defense classroom and assigned her detention that night. The words “I must respect those in power over me” were written over and over on a parchment of paper until the toad thought she had written enough. After 3 hours of scribbling, she was sent on her way back to the common room with her cramped hand as a memory of her punishment. Unfortunately, she still had a Charms essay she needed to write for Flitwick due tomorrow, so it was looking like it was going to be a long night. 
Ginny might have to dig out the homework planner Hermione got for her birthday from the bottom of her trunk. 
The Common Room was practically empty. A few 7th years in the corner swamped with the NEWT workload while three 6th year boys were playing with some of Fred and George’s test products. The only other occupant was Harry sitting in the large comfy couch near the fire. A spot that is usually also occupied by her brother and Hermione, but they seemed to be absent this evening. Probably Prefect rounds. 
She made her way over to Harry, if she was going to have to stay up late, she might as well do it with some pleasant company. That is, if Harry let her. They were friends, and Ginny did homework with her friends all of the time. She wouldn’t have hesitated if it was Hermione or Ron sitting alone in the corner to join. Taking a deep breath, Ginny pushed forward. She isn’t a coward, she can do her homework near him. 
“Hi Harry. Mind if I sit here and do some work?” Ginny asked.
Harry jumped, shocked to be interrupted, knocking over the inkwell that was balanced carefully on his leg. Scattered in his lap were several crumpled up pieces of paper splattered with ink drops and words crossed out, the quill still in his hand. 
“Sorry!” Ginny yelped, “Here let me.” A quick scourgify cleaned up the ink spill. 
“Thanks,” Harry muttered. He gave a wave to welcome Ginny to sit. Ginny gave a small smile to Harry. Slipping her bag off of her shoulders and throwing it on the coffee table, she took the spot on the floor across from Harry. Ron always laughed at her for preferring to sit on the ground, but she always found it comfortable. 
Looking up from the mess in his lap, “Where are you coming back from so late?” Harry questioned.
“Detention with Umbridge.” grunted Ginny. “She had me write lines for hours. Stupid really.” Ginny continued, rolling her eyes at the pointless detention. Harry however, whipped his head to face her like she said Umbridge used the cruciatus curse for punishment. He glanced down at her hand, eyes filled with concern.
“Just lines? Are you okay?” Harry whispered.
Ginny looked down at her writing hand, wringing her wrist. “Yeah, I’m totally fine. Just a crampy wrist.” waving her hand in dismissal, “It’s only going to make this essay for Flitwick just a little more difficult to write. No big deal.” 
Harry still looked a little doubtful, but did not ask any further questions. Instead he picked up another blank parchment and started to write again.
Ginny pulled out her Charms book and her own parchment, starting her essay on the difference between healing charms and their effects on different parts of human anatomy. Ginny was no healer, she did not understand why healing an ear was so much more challenging than growing back a fingernail. Two feet was going to be a challenge. Maybe if she asked nicely, Hermione might share her essay from last year with her. 
Just as Ginny wrote the conclusion to her opening paragraph, Harry let out an exasperated sigh, crumpling up another parchment and throwing it in the nearby fire. Flames grew as paper turned to ash. Both of them stared at the fire as the flames dwindled back down. 
Ginny turned back to Harry, “A little dramatic, don’t you think?”
Harry just scoffed and rolled his eyes at her, but she could tell his annoyance was not directed at her but rather the project he had just turned to ash.
“What are you working on anyway?” Ginny asked, curious and looking for a distraction.
Harry looked over his shoulder and then at the group of 6th years over in the corner. He leaned forward so they wouldn’t be overheard. “It’s Sirius’s birthday tomorrow, and I realized I didn’t give him a present. So I was trying to write him a letter.”
“A card is a great idea!” exclaimed Ginny. 
“You are the expert in card making as far as I am aware.” Harry said leaning back into the couch. “Especially singing cards.” Harry continued, giving a lopsided grin.
Ginny’s cheeks pinked. “I am going to pretend you are not teasing me, because I am proud of my ability to make a mean singing card, and I was going to offer my services and assist you.”
“Me? Tease? Please, Gin. I would never tease you over one of the best cards I have ever received. I still have it! Although I think the singing voice has worn out. It sounds a lot less angelic and more like a mermaid on land.” Ginny laughed into her sleeve, and tried not to think too much about the way “Gin” sounded coming out of Harry’s lips. 
“You can’t tease me for making singing cards, but - er - you can tease me for this.” Ginny said as she started to dig through her bag. At the bottom was a small amount of her craft supplies, only slightly squashed from the books. She pulled out blue, gold, and red streams of ribbon and colored parchment, tossing them on the table between her and Harry.
Harry stared wide eyed at the decor in front of him. “You keep your card-making supplies on you?” not even attempting to hide the playfulness in his voice.
“Okay, okay. I know I deserve it!” Ginny defended herself, “But, in my defense, it was Michael’s and mum’s birthdays last week and I needed to make cards for both of them. And I was just too lazy to take the supplies out of my backpack!”
Harry threw his hands up in defense. “Hey, you were the one who gave me permission to tease you for it, and those are valid reasons. Although, I am a little hurt because I now understand it is not that rare to get a special Ginny Weasley Card.”
Ginny grinned up at Harry, “A little full of yourself.” 
Harry just grinned back. He picked up a red piece of parchment and started to draw on the front. Ginny turned back to her essay for Charms, trying to tune out the sound of Harry scribbling above her. 
She  made up some conclusion that the reason cartilage heals slower is because it grows much slower than fingernails. She had no clue if that was true or not, but it sounded like a good enough reason to use a stitching charm instead of a bandage charm. Harry cleared his voice above her. 
“Okay, don’t laugh.” 
Harry brandished the front of his card. Ginny had to suck in her cheeks to keep herself from making a noise. The cover had a black blob with 5 sticks coming out at all angles, and maybe that was a head on the left? Ginny had never seen a Thestral before, but that had to be the thing Harry drew, because she had never seen any animal that looked like it before.. 
“Is it rude for me to ask what that is?”
Harry stared at her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “A big, black dog, obviously.”
“Obviously.” Ginny nodded. 
“This was a stupid idea.” Harry sighed in defeat, tossing the card back onto the table.
“No it’s not, you can just cover up the front with a big bow! I have some gold ribbon!” Ginny said, brandishing the ribbon out of the pile. Quickly tying the ribbon into a knot, she glued it down to the front of the card with her wand, covering up the Grim. 
“Perfect! Thanks, Gin!” Ginny made a quick mental note to herself that was the second time he called her that tonight. “I will just write a quick Happy Birthday message on the inside and send it off.”
“No no!” Ginny giggled. “If your card is going to be a Ginny Weasley approved card, it needs to be a poem that sings and rhymes!”
“Is that why you called Voldemort the Dark Lord? Just so you can rhyme with blackboard?”
“I am going to ignore the fact that you memorized one of the most mortifying moments of my life, and just try to help you with your card.”
“Don’t you have an essay to write?” Harry asked. 
“Yes I do. Anyway, what rhymes with Sirius?”
Harry gave out a laugh. “Curious?” Harry suggested.
“Delirious,” Ginny responded.
“Mysterious.”
“Imperious.”
“How the hell am I supposed to incorporate an unforgivable curse in a birthday card, Ginny?”
“With creativity, Harry.”
A snort escaped from Harry. “Yes, because I am known for my creativity. The Sorting Hat almost put me in Ravenclaw because of my brilliant mind.” teased Harry, eyes twinkling over at Ginny.
Ginny stared at Harry, watching him try to stifle a grin at her. “I am not that gullible, Harry. I bet that hat spent one second on top of that head of yours and sorted you right into Gryffindor.”
Harry shook his head at her. “Something like that,” he muttered. With a sigh, he continued, “Okay. Poem. Let’s do this. We also probably shouldn’t say Sirius just in case the card ends up in the wrong hands.” He leaned forward across the table and whispered down so Ginny had to lean forward to hear him. His woodsy scent that reminded her of a mix of broom polish and crisp autumn air filled her lungs.  “He wants us to call him Snuffles.”
“Snuffles?” Ginny asked, her voice coming out a little higher than intended. “Why?”
“I-,” Harry paused, thinking. “I honestly don’t think I want to know.”
Ginny threw her head back and laughed. Her heart filled with warmth. She enjoyed the banter her and Harry had. Back and forth. She was glad she made the decision to join him tonight. Listening to Hermione when she told her to relax around him was the best advice she had ever given. Smartest witch of her age indeed. 
“Hmmmm…” Ginny hummed to herself. “Wait, how old is he going to be?”
Harry paused, doing mental math in his head, “uh, 36 I think. I hope.”
Ginny nodded to herself, “Okay, and what are some things you appreciate about him?”
This gave Harry a pause. He leaned back into the couch and stared into the embers of the slowly dying fire. Ginny could almost hear the thoughts whirling around in his head. She almost felt like she was intruding on a moment for him. “Er,” Harry said, clearing his throat, “I like that he is so obviously a Gryfindor. I appreciate his humor and wit, but also the way he supports me. I- I never really had a father figure that I can remember, and Sirius, well he guided me through the shitstorm that was last year and this year now too.” 
Ginny reached under the table and gave Harry’s ankle a gentle squeeze of encouragement. Smiling up with reassurance, “That’s really nice Harry. I am glad he can be that person for you. Why don’t we start with something like… “
Witty, brave, and supportive, what a great mix.
Cheers to the man turning 36.
To celebrate, I made this card with bows and ruffles
Happy Birthday to my dogfather, Snuffles
Harry laughed as he wrote the final line of the poem. “Brilliant, Ginny! Ravenclaw would have fought for a mind like yours.”
“Nah, Ravenclaw probably took one look at my mind and thought that it was too vulgar. I don’t think I have ever heard a Ravenclaw swear, and I say shite and fuck way too much to be censored.” 
“Well I am glad Gryffindor appreciates your vulgar mind.”
Ginny beamed up at Harry, cheeks flushing with happiness at the compliment. “Okay, so now the poem is written, I will need you to sing it!”
“Wait, what.”
Ginny stared blankly at Harry’s now pale face. Holding her grin in. Letting Harry really think that he would have to warm up his vocal cords. Harry stared back, his bright green eyes widened with fear. Ginny could swear she could see hues of gold intermixed with the green in the flickering firelight. A beat passed between them, and Ginny felt like the air evaporated from her lungs. 
“I am totally shitting you, right now. It is just a spell.” Ginny said, voice only slightly breathless. She ignored the rush of blood in her ears, and pointed her wand at the card, “Verba Cantorela.” 
“Fuck you,” Harry laughed, lightly kicking Ginny under the table. She joined, laughing with him. The card started to sing their poem back at them in a beautiful chorus. 
This was something she could get used to. Hanging out with Harry. Laughing with Harry. Ginny was sure if Harry would ever like her in the way she used to want. But that is fine because she is totally, 100% over him. Yet moments like this, where she felt warm all over and her heart, she could pretend. And Harry had an air of carefreeness about himself that she had not seen most of term. 
The warmth she felt faded when she looked over at her unfinished essay.
“Ah, fuck.”
“Hmm?” 
“How much do you know about healing charms?” Ginny asked, hopefully.
“All I know is that I don’t trust Gilderoy Lockhart performing them.”
“Honestly, Professor Flitwick might accept that. I only have about…” Ginny picked up her parchment and squinted at it, “oh, a foot left. I can just ask Hermione at breakfast tomorrow morning and finish it during the first period. I don’t have Charms until after lunch.”
“I can try to help,” Harry said sheepishly. “In theory, I did this assignment last year at some point. What are you working on?”
Ginny pulled out her planner from underneath the collection of ribbon scattered on the table so she could read the essay prompt. “Healing charms for small body parts, and the best time to use each one. The example Flitwick gave was healing missing fingernails, broken noses, or missing ears.” Ginny said. “Personally, I can understand losing a fingernail or breaking a nose, but I want to meet the witch or wizard that manages to get an entire ear chopped off.”
Harry tugged at his messy mop of hair. “Probably the unfortunate side effect of a hair-cutting spell gone haywire.”
Ginny’s eyes twinkled up at Harry, “You would know all about unfortunate haircuts.” 
Harry’s eyes narrowed at her, but the grin did not slip from his lips. “Rude. I thought you wanted my help.”
“I do! I just need some help coming up with another healing charm or two. I’ve exhausted everything I know about the bandage and stitching charms.”
“As someone who has visited Madam Pomfrey their fair share, Episkey is a fantastic spell.” 
Ginny nearly banged her head on the table. Episkey was the first spell they learned in this unit, she handed in a 3 foot essay on that charm alone last week. “Oh duh! Thanks Harry, you’re a lifesaver!”
Harry grinned at her, “Hermione does say that I have a saving people thing. So I am glad someone appreciates it.”
“Of course I appreciate you, Harry. I think I can handle the rest of the essay.”
“In that case, I think I might head up to bed.” Harry yawned. “Night, Gin. Thanks for the help with the card, I really appreciate it.”
“Night, Harry. Thank you for the essay help.” Ginny waved as Harry went up the stairwell to the boys dormitory. Ginny found herself humming to the tune of Sirius’s birthday card as she finished up her essay. That was number three. Three times he called her Gin tonight. It was nothing special really, but it sounded sweet to Ginny’s ears. 
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hinnyfied · 1 year
Text
Pass the Bottle
@hinnyfest Day 16: Sharing Firewhiskey
Summary: Ginny and Harry sneak away during Percy's wedding rehearsal, bottle of Ogden's Old in hand.
Read on AO3 here or continue below the cut!
Ginny all but ran up the stairs of the old manor that had been rented for the occasion, clutching a bottle of firewhiskey in one hand and dragging Harry with the other. She marched down the hallway determinedly, opening door after door until she found not a closet or a bathroom, but an unoccupied bedroom.
“Perfect,” she said as she pulled Harry inside, closing the door quickly behind him.
She fumbled with the bottle’s stopper as she sat down on a bed adorned with a pink, frilly quilt. Harry leaned against the nearest wall, rubbing his eyes in an exhausted fashion.
“Can you believe–” he started.
“I know,” Ginny interrupted as she unstoppered the bottle with a faint pop. A little dribble of the drink fell onto her green velvet dress. She could not possibly have been bothered less if she tried at that point.
“It’s insanity down there.”
Ginny took a long swig from the bottle of Ogden’s, ignoring the burn in her throat as best as she could. The label indicated that it had been aged for 15 years. She neither knew nor cared what that meant, simply savouring the way it temporarily eased the stress of Percy’s wedding rehearsal.
Bill’s wedding had somehow managed to be less stressful than this, even with the whole imminent threat of war thing going on. The sheer absurdity of that fact nearly made her laugh. She took another swig and passed the bottle to Harry, who took an equally long drag and sighed.
“You’d think the decisions were life and death the way he’s carrying on,” Harry said as he handed the bottle back to Ginny.
“Whatever do you mean?” she asked with mock sincerity. “Is it not absolutely critical to our survival that when one orders ten inch candlesticks, they are ten inches in length, not eleven?”
Harry snorted.
“Promise me ours won’t be like this,” he said with an exasperated laugh.
It wasn’t as though it was a surprise to Ginny that they’d get married one day, but they had never actually spoken the inevitable aloud before. The casualness with which Harry referred to their wedding day made her heart flutter.
“Ours?” she asked with a playful smile.
Harry, having finally realised what he just said, seemed torn between embarrassment and satisfaction, the tiniest grin starting to form on his slightly flushed face. As he opened his mouth to retort, however, the door banged open once more, and a harried Hermione and Ron entered the room.
“Oh excellent,” said Ron with relief, snatching the bottle of firewhiskey from Ginny’s hand. “That git is driving me mad.”
“He just wants his wedding day to be perfect. It’s quite sweet, really,” Hermione said sympathetically, though she, too, took a hefty swig from the bottle. “He’s a bit – overly enthusiastic is all.”
“Overly enthusiastic? Is that what we’re calling it?” Ron asked incredulously.
“What’s he done now?” Ginny was almost afraid to ask.
“There was an issue with the linens.” Hermione grimaced.
“The linens?” Harry raised his eyebrows.
Ron straightened up, sticking his nose in the air and assuming Percy’s pompous demeanour.
“I specifically requested cream, and these tablecloths are clearly ivory. I have ordered floral arrangements that will complement cream, not ivory.”
Ginny’s mouth fell open.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She looked to Hermione, hoping to see some confirmation that Ron was exaggerating. Instead Hermione shook her head as if to say sorry, but it’s true.
“I don’t know how Audrey does it,” Ron said.
Ginny liked Percy’s fiancée very much, but it was true that Audrey was essentially the opposite of who she had imagined her brother would fall in love with. Audrey was the scattered to his organised, the messy to his neat, the spontaneous to his cautiousness.
“I give them another three weeks, tops,” George had said to Ginny after Percy had brought his new girlfriend to the Burrow for the first time. Yet, here they were years later, somehow drawn closer by the very opposite traits that could have easily driven them apart.
As if summoned by her thoughts, the door creaked open once more, revealing a smiling, entirely relaxed Audrey. Her black curls were pinned delicately up on top of her head, and she was positively glowing in her sleek navy rehearsal dress.
“The latest crisis has been solved,” she announced with a chuckle. “It’s safe for you to come out of hiding.”
“Sorry about that,” Harry said sheepishly.
“I get it.” Audrey shrugged, her smile widening. “Percy wants things just so, but tomorrow will be all the better because of it.”
Ginny’s affection for her future sister-in-law swelled.
“Cheers to that,” said Ron with a disbelieving smile, offering up the bottle of firewhiskey to her. Audrey laughed and took a sip.
“There,” she said with a shudder. “Ready to come back into the fray? We could use your help with the place settings.”
The four of them made to follow Audrey, but Ginny paused, tugging on Harry’s arm to hold him back as the others left the room.
When they were alone, she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, pulling his body as close to hers as she could, kissing him deeply as his hands found her waist. They stayed like that for quite a while before breaking apart, enjoying their peaceful moment.
Ginny looked into Harry’s eyes, grateful beyond words that they had each other. The fact that they, too, would be getting married someday, warmed Ginny to her core. It never failed to take her breath away – to think of the life that they were building together and the unencumbered future that stretched before them. This life had felt like an unattainable dream during the war – a farfetched fairytale. In some ways, it still did.
“I love you,” she said softly.
“Do you?” Harry asked very seriously, his brows creasing as he caressed her cheek with his thumb. “Even though I don’t care about linens?”
Ginny burst into laughter, but she was cut off by the sudden sound of Percy’s voice from downstairs.
“Honestly Ron, it’s like you’ve never set a table before. You’ve put the dessert forks where the salad forks are meant to be.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “Should we go rescue him?” he whispered.
“Probably,” Ginny answered, suppressing a giggle and kissing him once more for good measure.
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evesaintyves · 1 year
Text
The Night of the Brown Bananas
@hinnyfest prompt #11: Nightmares
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Harry/Ginny, Rated T, 2973 words, domestic fluff and domestic angst
Ginny and Harry finally move into their first flat together, but their new life isn't exactly what Ginny expected. A postwar Hinny slice of life.
i started this as a gift for the lovely @hinnyfied (hbd), but it got a bit out of hand 🫠 read it here (it's long lol) or on AO3 💛🤎🖤
All that was left was Ginny's old canvas school satchel and her overnight bag. She stood next to them in her empty room, chewing her thumbnail. She and Harry had wrestled her old trunk and her cardboard boxes downstairs together by hand, which had earned Harry a snivelly hug from Mum and an equally-snivelly handshake from Dad. Ginny was sure she was in for a whole rainstorm of crying when she showed up downstairs with her bags on her shoulders.
Strange how much bigger her room looked without all her things in it. A spiderweb waved loose in the corner where it had once been attached to her desk lamp. Dark shapes on the walls where pennants and posters had shielded the wallpaper from the sun. Those were all in a box now, rolled into neat cylinders by a charm and a funny whipping motion of the tip of her mum's wand. Mum had tried to teach her how to do it but Ginny had only been half-listening so eventually Mum had done that frustrated little huff of breath through her nose and rolled them all up herself.
The place on the baseboards where Ginny had once, seven years old, scratched I HATE FRED AND GEORGE was still there. She thought about charming it away so her mum and dad wouldn't see it—she even took her wand out—but it felt like erasing a memory. Fred and George had transfigured her Harpies scarf to show a bad word and she'd gone to three errands with mum before anyone noticed. Her mum had been so red that even her dad had seemed alarmed at her fury. She'd sent Ginny and the twins to their rooms, even though Ginny hadn't even known what the word meant (until Fred and George, delighted, had explained it to her over breakfast the next morning).
Harry pushed the door open with a slow creak and Ginny hid her bitten thumb behind her back. 
"Ready?" he said. "I've got everything set up outside so we can just grab it and apparate."
He always stood in the hallway unless he was invited, as if they weren't about to be sharing a flat, a bedroom, a bed.
"Yeah." Ginny gave him a faint smile. "Just give me a minute."
He lingered there for a few seconds like he wasn't sure if he should go, then turned and clomped down the stairs.
This was the last minute she'd still live in the house she'd shared with her brothers. The next time she came she'd only be visiting. That felt like it should make her feel something, but all she had were sore arms, the buzz of excitement in her stomach, the prickly emptiness where some deeper feeling should be.
She shouldered her bag and went downstairs to face her mum's stupid tears.
-----
That first night in their little flat, they were too tired to do anything but flump down on their too-hard new mattress and fall asleep. Ginny dreamt she was signing a contract with the Kestrels, big ridiculous ceremonial quill in her hand, the fluff of it tickling in her nose, eyes watering from all the sports-reporter flashbulbs. She touched the quill to the big scroll of parchment and signed her name.
Good evening, my dear, the contract wrote back. It's been such a very long time. Are you still wondering if you'll ever learn to do a Cuban Eight on your broomstick? Is your brother still nasty to you about it?  I know—
She woke with a hiss of breath and cramps shooting up her calves. Panic hammered through her veins—dark. I'm hurt—until she remembered where she was and that she'd made about twenty trips up and down the stairs with boxes yesterday, thinking it'd be nice to get a leg workout in before tryouts.
She rolled on her side, rested her head on the crook of her arm, bit down on her middle fingernail and watched the slow swells of Harry's breathing. They hadn't hung the curtains yet and the bare bedroom wall was stained with the swapping colours of the traffic light outside: green, yellow, red. She took a breath and held it to slow her heartbeat. Tonks had taught her how to do that. She crammed that useless thought down into the dark cellar storage inside her, along with the sick lingering unease of the dream.
This view of Harry, the narrow shoulders in silhouette and that mess of black hair against the pillow: she'd seen it before, but today in their flat it was exhilaratingly new. This was going to be her every morning, this was going to be her middles-of-the-night. She was going to get used to it. How absolutely mad.
Later, in the faint blush of sunrise, Harry took a long deep breath and stretched his arms over his head. When he turned to face her, his skinny legs tangling in the sheets and that slow squinty smile spreading across his face, Ginny forgot all about the panic and the cramps and my dear and just climbed on top of him, thinking only this is how it's supposed to be, you and me, every day.
------
Ginny felt silly getting so excited for their first big shop. She was uncomfortable amongst all the muggles in the plasticky brightness of Sainsbury's, but Harry pushed the trolley down the overstimulating gauntlets of every-colour packets and tins with a bored confidence that looked weird on him. 
"Yeah," he shrugged. "Aunt Petunia used to drag me along and make me carry the big thing of serviettes that wouldn't fit in the bags."
The muggle snacks were nasty-looking and there weren't even any pumpkin flavours, but Harry grabbed boxes of biscuits and crisps and assured her she'd understand when she tried them. He piled the trolley with fruit and veg, spinach and carrots and apples and bananas.
"You know I can't cook like Mum, right?" Ginny huffed.
"Yeah, I dunno—you've got tryouts and I've got the Auror Academy physical coming up—thought we could try making smoothies or something—you know—grown up, healthy—" He shrugged and ruffled his hair with his hand.
Making smoothies for breakfast with the boy who lived, in their bright little flat that smelled of his cedar trunk and soap. Ginny was stricken, for an instant, by an idea that seemed stupid but dizzyingly true at the same time—that she'd never understood before what it must have been like for Harry to suddenly find out he was a wizard when he was eleven, but maybe it was something like these last few days: the buoying relief of having survived her old life long enough to see her new one, and the unmoored thrill of all the future discoveries unknown, undreamt-of. 
She pressed a kiss to the crescent of skin behind his ear as he counted out the strangely-coloured muggle banknotes, and she could feel the warm flush in his skin where her lips touched him.
------
Of course the smoothies never happened.
Harry was in meetings with Minister Shacklebolt and his transition team most days, and Ginny spent afternoons practicing for tryouts with Bill, swooping over the seaside cliffs like starlings and hurling his battered old quaffle over the peaked roof of Shell Cottage. 
The spinach wilted in the cupboard and the bananas sat unbothered in the fruit bowl, mottled with brown spots. Harry and Ginny ordered pizza and ate it in knackered silence. All the singing nerves of the day they'd moved in together had subsided under the heavy disappointing drone of the neighbour's telly through the wall. Harry would rub Unknotting Unguent into Ginny's spasming back and then she'd crawl into bed and fall asleep listening to the scratch of his quill as he revised for the Auror Academy exams. It wasn't anything like she'd imagined. It wasn't anything. It was like the time just before winter holidays or her birthday, the dragging, drudging lope of days spent waiting for something exciting—but what? This was it. This was supposed to be it.
Her mum and dad dropped by while Harry was out, and while Molly managed to hold her tongue at the stack of pizza boxes next to the bin and the gnats buzzing round the fruit bowl, Ginny could see on her face that she wasn't impressed. She looked so old, all of a sudden. Arthur did too, but at least his face lit up with a boyish glee when he wandered through the flat flipping all the lightswitches. Ginny pulled the chain of the the ceiling fan for him and he giggled like a little kid.
"Has Angelina been round lately?" Ginny asked them over chipped mugs of tea. She knew better than to ask directly about George.
"She's in Freiburg, actually, consulting with Ellerby and Spudmore," Arthur said. That sounded dead grown-up. Ginny couldn't even imagine. With a cautious glance over at her mum, he added, "I gather they're on a bit of a break. George has been... in one of his moods, I think. We don't hear much."
He was speaking in that hushed, apologetic tone he'd been using ever since all the funerals.
"Oh," Ginny said.
"I've been to the Tonks house this week," her Mum cut in. Her dad pressed his lips together until they went white.
"Did you see Teddy?" Ginny asked, setting down her half-eaten shortbread. She and 
Harry hadn't been to visit him in the last few weeks, with the way all their time was eaten by moving out and practice and exams and just everything, every thing.
"He was having a little kip—" Molly started, but then she stopped and took a big slurp of her tea, the way she always did when she was about to deliver hard news. 
A brand-new understanding thumped in Ginny's chest: that steadying tea-slurp was her mum's need to soothe herself, the way Ginny would peel off slivers of fingernail with her teeth. Somehow it was both startling and obvious. She'd been watching her mum do it for almost nineteen years.
"He's been having a bit of trouble—er, sleeping and that—" Arthur filled in for Molly with a weak chuckle.
"He won't sleep in his bed," Molly blurted out, "he's afraid something's underneath and trying to get him. Andromeda tried to make him tell her what he thinks is under there—you know, he's barely two—and all he would say was 'Mummy and Daddy'—"
Another slurp of tea. Arthur reached out to stroke Molly's upper arm.
Hours later, when Harry came home, he didn't ask why Ginny was lying on the sofa with her eyes all swollen. He just sat next to her and laid his hand on her cheek. She didn't start crying again, but it was a weird comfort to just lie there and throb with his quiet warmth at her side.
------
The neighbours downstairs had a party so loud Ginny could feel the bass vibrating in the mattress springs. She and Harry cast every muffling and white-noise charm they knew, but the beat pounded through the very frame of the building. It invaded Ginny's head like a commanding voice and made her legs twitch with electric, frustrated rage. 
"I'm going to go downstairs, curse the door off the hinges and hex every single one of them and their—their muggle—music box or whatever—"
Harry turned over and squinted at her in the dark.
"You can't get arrested, they'll disqualify you from tryouts," he croaked.
Ginny kicked all her covers off and rolled in a ball on her side, clutching her stomach.
Harry managed to fall asleep with his head sandwiched between two pillows, but Ginny laid there in spiraling despair until the police came to break the party up. The curtains were still in a wrinkled lump on the bedroom floor, so the flashing lights made a red-and-blue lightshow on the bedroom wall. Harry didn't even move. When the music finally shut off, Ginny closed her eyes in exhausted relief, but it seemed like the moment she fell asleep the sun was shining red through her eyelids and the pipes were groaning with Harry's morning shower.
The browning bananas curved like a smirk in the fruit bowl. Ginny blankly spooned Harry's weird muggle cereal into her mouth. Her thoughts were the same slow pointless drip as the broken tap in the kitchen. Harry leaned down to kiss her neck on his way out the door. He followed her gaze to the bananas.
"They're getting almost as freckly as you," he murmured into her ear, smacked another kiss on her cheek, and left. Ginny sat in the abrupt calm of the flat for a moment, blinking, then threw her spoon into the bowl with a clink and flooed over to Bill's, where she slung the quaffle so hard and so wildly it broke the weather vane off the roof and sent it spinning into the kitchen garden. Fleur came running out the back door at the noise, wiping her hands on a tea towel and cursing in French. Bill pulled his broom up alongside pinkfaced, panting Ginny and gripped her shoulder with his big rough hand.
------
Harry sat up in the dead of night with a gasp like he was coming up from underwater and touched his fingertips to his scar.
Ginny sat up too, so fast it made her abs twinge. "What is it? Does it hurt?"
"No," Harry said, "not really. Only in the dream."
He sat there blinking for a moment, red traffic light painting his face, then flopped back on his side and pulled the covers up to his neck. Ginny felt suddenly very alone in their bed.
"I have weird dreams too," she whispered.
She didn't think Harry had heard her at first, but after a moment, muffled by the duvet, he said, "Do you?"
"Yeah."
He turned over to face her. "Like what?"
"I dunno," she said. She didn't know why she'd even said it, because she didn't really want to talk about it now. "Like I made it on a Quidditch team but I don't want to play anymore."
Harry was quiet for so long she thought he must have gone back to sleep, but then he slid over and rested his forehead against her thigh. It had taken him so long, when they'd first begun seeing each other, to start giving her little touches like this. She didn't suppose the Dursleys had been touchers. She wove her fingers into his hair.
"I haven't felt like myself lately," she blurted out. "I mean—not just lately—but especially—I dunno—"
She took a breath and the hitch in it repulsed her.
Harry didn't say anything, but she could feel his eyelashes blinking against her leg. The light from outside turned green and painted the rumpled sheets that pooled around the both of them.
"I just—we never even made smoothies. The bananas are all rotten now. The curtains are still over there on the floor. How long is it going to be like this? How long can I not feel like myself before I have to admit that this is just how I am now?"
She shoved her thumbnail in her mouth. Warm stupid tears were leaking down her face and dripping all the way down her neck to her collarbones. She'd normally have scrubbed them away with the back of her hand and gone somewhere to collect herself, but she wanted them, weirdly, to prove how pathetic this dumb fucked-up feeling was. Mum's coppery hair was coming in white, poor Andromeda had to think about dead Tonks crawling out from under the bed, George was aching alone in his filthy bedsit, Fred was in the ground turning into something unrecognisable, and Ginny was sat here crying like an idiot over some fucking brown bananas.
Harry sat up and looked at her. "The bananas went bad?"
Ginny laughed through her noseful of snot.
"They're nearly black now," she sniffed. "Its so stupid, I just hate to waste—"
Harry suddenly swung his legs out of the bed and walked in his stiff morning way out of the bedroom.
The traffic light was yellow now. Ginny got up and followed him into the kitchen.
Harry was holding the bunch of bananas betwen two fingers. A tenacious fruit fly looped circles around them. He broke one off the bunch with a nasty squishing noise.
"I'll eat them right now," he said. "Zero waste."
He pulled the black peel back from the banana. A fermented smell came off it and stung the back of Ginny's nose. Webby strings of goo stretched between the fruit and the skin, and they caught the light from outside and shone with it like tiny filaments of neon.
"Er—" Harry started, his brow furrowing.
"You don't have to eat it," Ginny said quickly.
Harry stared at her for a moment with such intensity that she thought he might take a bite just to shock her.
Then he turned around and chucked them into the kitchen bin.
"We'll go to Sainsbury's in the morning," he said. Ginny's face was itchy with drying tears. Harry wiped his hands off on the seat of his pyjamas and brushed past her into the bedroom.
"Come on, I'll rub that stuff on your back if you want," he called over his shoulder.
Ginny didn't, but she followed him back to bed. In the morning, she woke to the quiet rustling sounds of Harry putting up the curtains. The flat still reeked of rotting banana. When she sat up, Harry turned around to look at her, grinned, and accidentally bashed the curtain rod into the window frame. Ginny felt a sleepy little flicker inside: this is it. You and me.
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turanga4 · 1 year
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Submitted wee bit late for Day One of @hinnyfest (‘First I Love You’)
Essentially pretty much maybe Safe For Work but maybe Not and come on you tosspot work is not for fan fiction
--------
The bed had been quiet enough, before the nightmare consumed him. He and Ginny had been together, her moving her body in a way more intimate than they had tried before. He had leaned in, and then recoiled, unable to contest the voice in his head. You're wrong. Your body’s wrong. You can’t have what it wants–you’ll hurt her. You’re a freak. You hurt everyone who gets too close. “I’m sorry, Ginny. Not tonight.” She said nothing, but she’d stroked his back briefly before turning away and sleeping on the opposite side of the bed.
Earlier that day, he had Floo’ed from the Burrow to the Ministry of Magic for Lucius Malfoy’s trial. Voicing, publicly for the first time, a memory from his fourth year. That when Voldemort had been toying with him in the graveyard, he’d staggered backwards into a group of Death Eaters, and it had been Lucius who had firmly pushed him forward to what he had believed would be his further torture and ultimate death. The nightmare tonight was stronger than the recent ones had been. He imagined that the edges had not softened over time with the use that the others got these days.
Her voice in the ending dark now, soft and concerned: he could make out her features as dawn began to shift itself into the room. “What’s wrong?”
“You know.”
“Which one?”
“Never mind.” He tried to lay back down and turn his back to her, but her hand on his shoulder was surprisingly unyielding. She used her other hand to lift his chin to her face.
“I know you don’t want to talk about things. I know I don’t want to talk about things. But..that doesn’t mean they’re wrong or must be hidden.”
He sighed and dropped his head back, looking away. “It’s too much, Ginny. I can’t be the person you need me to, want me to, be. I’m not that. I can’t be that. There’s too much in the way.”
She fixed her eyes on him, not forcing his gaze, but seeming to call him back with the warmth of her own. “Harry. I want all of you. I want to see all of you. All of your scars. Not just that one,” she said, gesturing. “That one’s obvious. But I know there are more. And I don’t love you…despite them. I love you because of them. Because they’re all a part of who you are. You can show me.” She hadn’t said ‘love’ before, but it somehow didn’t surprise him. He realized they didn’t need to say more just yet.
He pointed silently to the place that Sirius had almost touched but couldn’t touch, the night in the forest before he went to die.
Ginny nodded. Gently, she pressed her lips to the lightning mark on his forehead, then kissed her own fingers and placed them on his heart.
“You…don’t know what you’re signing up for with that, Ginny.”
“I never have. That didn’t stop me. It won’t stop me now.”
She’d learned to cast non-verbally, but it was as though she wanted him to hear her, the confidence in her voice. She looked fully at him with the blazing look he remembered, then away, raising her wand. “Expecto patronum.”
A silvery horse cantered around the room before coming to a stop and nuzzling first her palm, then his. She stroked its neck lightly and then canceled the spell.
“Pretty strong, isn’t it?” He couldn’t disagree.
“You taught me how to do that. And you gave me that memory.” She took his hands in her hands—smaller and softer than his, but with equal power and a determination that sometimes, when he needed it, could outstrip his own.
“I want you to trust me when I say, we’ll make more.”
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takearisk-ao3 · 1 year
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there is no third
written for @hinnyfest prompt 1: First, I love you
The little bell above the door tinkled and a gust of frosty wind swept through Honeydukes until the door banged closed again. Not paying attention to the other shoppers crowded around, Harry leaned against a display of Cockroach Clusters and watched as Ginny perused the baking section.
In typical Ginny fashion, she had left her Christmas Shopping until the very last minute, which meant Harry was trailing along after her and fighting the horde of dawdlers who also refused to take advantage of Owl Orders. It wasn’t the worst way he’d spent a Saturday, but he could think of other, much more enjoyable, pastimes to participate in with his fiancée. 
Especially since in two weeks she wouldn’t be his fiancée anymore. She’d be something altogether more important. Something infinitely significant and meaningful. Something sacred. 
Warmth cracked open in his chest as he watched her let out an impatient huff and return a cellophane bag of instant melt caramels back to the shelf.
Wife. 
Ginny was going to be his wife. Home, family, and endless contentment, all wrapped up in his favorite person in the world. Bonded to him for life. 
Sometimes Harry had to pinch himself just for the reminder that it was real. 
The distinctive click of a camera pulled his attention away from Ginny chewing on her bottom lip and to the other side of the shop. Harry clocked the room but didn’t immediately notice anyone acting suspicious until the third go around.
A middle-aged bloke stood half-hidden behind a rack of Liquorice Wands and conspicuously stared in their direction. When he noticed Harry, he ducked behind an older couple passing by and disappeared from sight. 
“Do you think Mum would want Golden Syrup Drops?”
The bloke reappeared three aisles over, raising a camera in their direction and Harry swore under his breath
“Yeah,” Ginny hummed. “I didn’t think so either.”
Not bothering with an explanation, Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the back of the store.
“What’re you-” she started but he yanked her down the rickety staircase and into the basement storeroom. 
“It’s that Bogdan fellow,” Harry explained in a rush once they were out of sight. “The photographer working for Rita Skeeter.”
Ginny made a disgusted noise. “That’s the third time this month.”
“Are we sure she doesn’t know?” Harry said with a pointed look. 
She shook her head. “If she did, she’d have published something already.”
Harry shrugged in agreement, shifting his palm and sliding his fingers between hers. 
Narrowing her eyes, Ginny tilted her head in question. “So, what’s the plan here?”
Harry blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean are we living in the cellar now or...?”
“Oh,” he faltered. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
She sighed, her eyes falling shut. A nearly all-consuming urge to snog her senseless came over him.
“So instead of getting an innocent photo of us Christmas shopping,” Ginny spoke slowly as if she was explaining a particularly difficult subject to someone very dim. “He gets one of us sneaking out of the Honeydukes cellar?”
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He smiled ruefully instead.  
“First,” Ginny remarked, her eyes sparkling with amusement in the dim light. “I love you.”
His smile stretched wider. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of hearing it. 
“Second,” she continued, moving her hands to either side of his face. “You’re an idiot.”
Harry choked on a laugh. “And third?”
“There is no third,” Ginny pushed up onto her toes to give him a fleeting kiss. “I love you and you’re an idiot. It’s the tragedy of my life.”
He snorted then buried his face in the crook of her neck. “We could wait him out?”
A knowing giggle rippled through her. “He could be up there for ages...”
“Don’t worry,” Harry pressed the lightest of kisses to the skin beneath her ear. “I know how we can pass the time.”
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enigmaticemperor · 1 year
Text
It's November 10th. Not October 31st.
Written for @hinnyfest
#10 I’m so lucky to be able to live this life with you
James giggled and flailed his legs around as Harry tried in vain to get him to stay still.
“Come on, James,” he cooed, “Let Daddy change your diaper. You don’t want to sleep in poo, do you?”
“Poo-Poo!” James told Harry seriously, pointing to his diaper. He turned fifteen months old today and they went all out, a massive party with their friends and family at their home, wanting to make a new memory to signify a Potter child turning fifteen months old. 
Harry was surprised that James still had the energy to do all this, when he just wanted to close his eyes and drift off, preferably cuddling with his wife. James was always a hyperactive kid, though, he surmised.
“I know, Jay. Poo-poo. That’s why I’m trying to change it.” He showed James a clean one to get him to understand. 
He might have understood, as he stopped moving around. Harry let out a sigh of relief but James immediately started clapping his hands and shouting, “Bubba!”
“Bubba?”
James nodded vigorously and said, “Dada! Bubba!”
“I think he means bubbles.”
Harry turned around to see Ginny leaning against the doorframe, in one of his old Gryffindor hoodies, which submerged her, going up to mid-thigh, covering her underwear, not looking like she was five months pregnant. She had a radiant smile adorning her face, her arms were crossed, and her fiery red hair cascaded down her shoulders in waves. Harry thought she was becoming even more beautiful every day.
“Oh! So you want bubbles, Jay?” He turned to James and smiled.
James returned a toothy smile, clapping and shouting “Bubba!” the whole time.
Harry took out his wand and silently made different coloured bubbles of various shapes and sizes appear out of the tip as James fell silent and stared mesmerised, trying to poke the ones that floated near him with his tiny fingers.
He was immediately flooded with a memory.
He remembered the scene through Voldemort’s eyes.
James Potter was making Harry laugh, conjuring multicoloured bubbles out of the tip of his wand, moving around swiftly as Harry wobbled around, trying to chase after the bubbles and giggling loudly every time his tiny fingers popped one.
Lily Potter was smiling and laughing along, looking at them adoringly and full of love.
He remembered Voldemort feeling a perverse pleasure at the pain he was about to inflict on the family as he blasted open the front door.
He didn’t know there were tears running down his cheeks until James wobbled over and hugged him around the waist. He hugged his son back as a pair of freckled arms enclosed both of them and Ginny started lightly kissing his spine, whispering sweet nothings.
He hugged James tighter, kissed his forehead, and James grinned at him. Harry went back to changing his son’s diaper and James didn’t even complain once. His attention was reclaimed by the bubbles. Harry gave a watery chuckle.
He picked James, who immediately snuggled into him, right thumb in his mouth and his left hand reaching for Harry’s hair, twirling it around his index finger.
He turned around and Ginny immediately placed a hand on his heart. She understood him so well. His heart swelled with love for his wife, and both his children. He wouldn’t have dared to dream of this seven years ago.
“I’m so lucky to be able to live this life with you.”
Ginny looked at both of them. She didn’t even want to imagine Lily’s sacrifice not being enough or her children being hunted down by a power-hungry monster. She just couldn’t.
“Me too.”
Constructive criticism is always welcome!
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startanewdream · 1 year
Text
For @hinnyfest, prompt #7 - Getting caught in the act.
Surprisingly rated T. Set during HBP.
***
you know
The whispers finally reached them by dinner time. Considering how his newfound relationship status had been the subject of many debates for the past ten days, Harry was surprised it took all day for the gossip to spread through the castle back to where it had started.
A Second Year girl was stealing glances at them. “His brother caught them—”
“Did he fight for her honour?” Her friend asked, eyes widened. “If my brother saw me like that—”
“No, they are friends… But Romilda said he was pissed.”
“What exactly Romilda said?” Asked another, with his face burning red. “Have they really…?”
“She heard from Lavender who heard from Seamus who saw them talking about it,” said the first girl solemnly. “And what her brother said was that he didn’t want to catch them sleeping together again.”
Harry let out a dismayed sigh. Across the table, keeping a distance from him that looked too proper for everyone and too large for Harry’s taste, Ginny threw him a consoling smile.
“They will be talking about something else tomorrow,” she promised him. “Merlin knows there is enough gossip to entertain them.”
“More than the fact we are supposedly sleeping together?”
“Well.” Her cheeks pinkened as she lowered her head, suddenly busy with her book again. “We did sleep together.”
“Not as how they are making it sound. I will have a word with Seamus about spreading this kind of gossip.”
“Hum.” She didn’t elaborate. There was a small frown on her forehead that made him lean closer on the table, his hand reaching for hers.
“What?”
“I just—you look more nervous about this gossip than all the others. I don’t know—if this is really about my honour or something like this—”
“No, it’s—” His face reddened. Harry wished they weren’t at the Common Room to discuss this, but he also knew he wouldn’t get to take Ginny to any secluded corner that night with all those prying eyes. “It’s also my honour—I don’t want people thinking we were—you know—here.”
He gestured around the Common Room, still filling with people coming back from dinner.
Ginny leaned closer as well, her face a mask. “So the problem is with ‘you know’, or ‘here’?”
“Here,” he said truthfully.
“So if people were assuming you took me to the lake to steal away my precious flower—”
“What? No, I mean—that would also be a problem—I don’t want people talking about us, you know, anywhere!”
She let out a laugh suddenly. “You are too cute when you get flustered, Harry,” she said, moving her chair closer to him and clearly forgetting all about the distance they had cultivated that day. “Don’t worry—Ron knows we just fell asleep on the couch, he won’t spill any gossip to my family.”
“That’s a relief,” he mumbled, still recalling the way Mrs. Weasley had once treated Hermione; if anyone would think he was taking advantage of Ginny... “All this talk and it’s not even true—”
“And did you wish it were?” She asked innocently.
Harry frowned, confused. “What?”
“A true gossip for once. That you and I, you know—”
She was just teasing him, he knew, but still, his cheek burned bright, his mind always easily compelled to imagine any scenario that involved Ginny, and even more, you know.
“Well,” he said slowly, caressing her hand. “What I do wish is that Ron wouldn't catch us then.”
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sweeethinny · 1 year
Text
Hinnyfest - Day 12
Valentine's Day - Day Twelve
im back.
yes, I lost two days but I will post late this weekend was a complete mess and the next one will be even worse I hope you understand ahaha
@hinnyfest
----
''Dad,'' James Sirius said into the mirror, his voice a little shaky and low, which told Harry one thing: confusion.
James and Lily-Lu were his loudest children, their silence and shyness usually indicated trouble, as were Albus and Teddy's noises, who were quiet and preferred their space to their brothers' confusion.
"What's up?" Harry put down the papers he was reading and took the mirror out of the drawer, not that he could afford to stop working - even if it was almost midnight and if Ginny had been there, she'd have probably fought him by now, but Harry took advantage of the fact that she was travelling for this – when he needed to take care of so many problems that didn't seem to end. Bureaucracy was much more tiring than chasing criminals.
''I need help,'' His son was in his bedroom, Harry would recognize the Gryffindor dormitory even with his eyes closed, and he looked distressed; his hair was combed which was a sign he was nervous, his tie undone and his knees pulled up to his chest, the mirror leaning probably on a pile of books he should be studying. ''How did you ask Mum out?''
''Hm,'' Harry stopped, he didn't expect this.
It had been a while since he and Ginny had been noticing that James was acting weird, first they thought he was having trouble at school, then that he had a fight with his friends, but then they came to the conclusion that there was a girl or boy involved in the whole thing. Requests to go to the hairdresser, to teach shaving, requests for new clothes and to put on an earring…
Harry didn't know if it was his rebellious phase or his passionate phase.
Either one was frightening, he admitted.
''Me and her were already dating, so it was easy-''
''You didn't ask her out before you guys started dating?!'' James looked at him, finally, and Harry chuckled softly. His son looked a lot like him at that moment, looking scared and nervous at the thought of asking a girl out on a date.
''Our story was a little different,'' he said, smiling. ''What do you need, Jamie? Unfortunately I'm still working and I'm sure it wasn't to talk about my relationship with your mother that you called me,'' James, when nervous, had a unique way of stalling and deflecting the subject in an attempt to make you forget about the that he wanted to tell you from the beginning, to catch you off guard and make him feel more secure about the situation.
Unfortunately, that didn't work with Harry.
''I want to ask a girl out,'' His cheeks reddened so much that for a second Harry thought he was going to hang up, run away from the subject and take care of everything himself. ''But it's Valentine's Day and... I don't think she likes me,''
''Has something happened to make you think that?'' James shrugged.
''It's just... she talks to me, she's kind and laughs at the things I say but... I think if she could choose, she would prefer other people before me, you know?'' Ah, the insecurity, there was something scarier than that?
Looking at his son who was then looking extremely vulnerable in front of him, hugging his knees and staring off into space as if to avoid looking at whatever his father reflected in his gaze, Harry realised that now was the time to stop being an Auror and go to work in the most difficult position that had no days off, vacations and no time to finish, that of being a father.
If it wasn't Ginny making him leave his office, then it would be one of the kids saving him.
''Yes,'' he said, making James look at him. ''Do you want me to listen to you, or for me to speak?''
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ginnyw-potter · 1 year
Text
A place to rest
Written for day 26 of the @hinnyfest
Prompt: "You are my home."
Harry was trying to take a nap and had thought the perfect spot to do so was in Ginny’s arms, his head on her chest, but he had accidentally set her off about something and now she was ranting on and on. He smiled, endeared about her passionate speech. 
“I just think it sucks! You don’t have a home! It’s not fair, you deserve a home! The Burrow isn’t your home, you don’t live here, not really. Your aunt and uncle never gave you a home and Grimmauld Place can hardly be described as homely and you don’t live there either,” she ended, her hands coming to rest on his back again now they were done gesturing. 
“You are so sweet,” Harry muttered, not bothering to lift up his head. 
“It’s not sweet!” she started off again. “You deserve a home, a place to feel safe and sound, where you can rest and- and-” 
He pushed up on his arms and looked at her. “Gin, you got to pipe down, I am trying to nap.” 
“Are you listening to what I am saying? You should care, it’s about you,” she told him, her arms coming around his neck. 
“I have a home,” he replied. 
“Do you?” she asked, not sounding convinced. 
He nodded. “You are my home, where I feel safe and sound and where I can rest, if you finally shut up.” He put his head back down. 
“Harry. Harry. Harry.” 
He turned his head to look at her. “Yeah?” 
“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, you can’t just say that and then take a nap!” she said, looking emotional. 
“I’m sorry?” he tried. 
Ginny’s face dropped and then a small frown formed. “You are an idiot and I love you so much.” 
Harry grinned and kissed her nose. “I love you too, baby.” 
When he put his head back down, both her arms and legs wrapped around him. 
“What are you doing?” 
Ginny let out an exasperated sigh. “Protecting you from all evil in the world.” 
“Hm, good, thank you.”
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