the lovely curious_wolf Rating:
character death pre-ficDisclaimer:
I own nothing. I make no profit. Summary:
Harry and Ginny visits a snowy grave.Author's Note:
I couldn't find a way to include the cupcake. I'm sorry for that, requester, but I hope you enjoy this fic anyway. And many thank yous to my lovely beta, curious_wolf
who came through and beta'd this for me! She's awesome.
The grey was blurred by the tears in her eyes. The bright red rose clashed with the muted grey, it seemed both out of place and inappropriate. She blinked her eyes as the wind blew her red hair and snowflakes in her face, trying to hold in the tears. He doesn't need to see you cry,
she told herself.
She slid her arm around the man beside hers waist and leaned against him, wishing she knew how to comfort him. The wind picked up slightly, blowing colder as the snow floated in the air around the pair.
She stared at the words etched on the tombstone and breathed deeply. "R.I.P. Tom Riddle." A tiny bit of snow had settled in the cervices of the carved words, making them stand out slightly more than they would have otherwise against the dim grey stone of the rest of the headstone. The ground in front of the grave was pure dirt from the grave being freshly dug and the digger being too hasty to magically cover it with grass.
The war was over.
The whispered words surprised her, making her jump slightly. "He's gone," she agreed softly, barely daring to believe her own words. The air she breathed was a visible cloud with her words.
"I can't believe it. He's really gone," the man continued. His deep, monotone sounded like he was in shock.
She squeezed him to her side and dropped her head on his shoulder, unsure what to say.
"Who would bury him?" he said in outrage a moment later. His emotions were unstable; he was unstable.
"Death Eaters, I suppose," she answered, trying to remain calm. A tear ran down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away, hoping he didn't notice.
"You're crying." He turned to her for the first time since they had walked up to the gravesite. He touched her gently, moving her face until she looked him in the eye.
"Not grief. Relief. I'm relieved it's finally over," she whispered. She glanced downward to avoid his eyes, and he titled her chin farther upward to keep eye contact.
"For what Harry?" His green eyes were smoldering, filled with sincerity. She couldn't look away from them and the depths they seem to hold within.
"For coming here with me… No one else would." He smiled softly though it didn't reach his eyes.
She shrugged. "I thought you'd need closure."
He brushed his lips against hers briefly. "I did. Thank you." Turning back to the tombstone, he kicked it gently as if it was his way of saying goodbye. It didn't budge from it's placement in the ground. "He's not worth a grave."
The woman shook her head. "He was never worth anything." Stepping toward the headstone, she crushed the rose with her feet, grinding the red petals into the brown ground.
"A Death Eater?"
"Do you think a Death Eater left the rose?"
"Oh, I'm sure they did. We still don't have them all, but we will. We have to," she whispered, a fierce determination in her voice as she stared down at the crushed flower. She didn't want a supporter of Voldemort to escape justice for their crimes after all the havoc they helped wreak.
"Come on, Ginny." He tugged her hand her, pulling her away from the gravesite back toward the path back to the Riddle manor.
They walked back to their brooms they had set against a tree just outside the property line. Neither spoke, both consumed with their own thoughts and feelings. The village of Little Hangleton was silent and dark, clouds gathered in the distance threatening to burst with the blizzard they held within them. The couple climbed on their brooms and took off, barely before the clouds broke open.
The silence was overwhelming as they flew back to London. It wasn't a particularly long flight, but without speaking, the time ticked by slowly. The woman didn't know what to say, or where to start. Her heart was in her throat every time she snuck a look over at the man riding beside her.
He flew with a grace even the most practiced broom riders didn't have; he swerved, dodged, and glided easily, unshaken by the misty rain that they were now experiencing. He was frowning, but the woman knew it wasn't from concentration.
After an hour, the man broke the silence. "Ginny where are you headed once we reach London?"
"Back to the Burrow."
"Why don't you come to 12 Grimmauld Place with me?"
"Sure," she agreed, unsure why. She knew he had friends and supporters congregated at his home constantly, wanting to make sure he was okay or just to express their gratitude for his victory.
The pair lapsed in silence again, the light rain turning into a fluffy snow as they approached their destination. They landed in a secluded place, trying not to draw attention to themselves by the Muggles who were still running around in the below zero and snowy weather.
"It normally doesn't snow this early in London," Ginny mused aloud.
Her companion glanced upward, the snow falling directly on his face. "No, it's normally raining now."
She smiled and wrapped her cloak tighter around her body. "I prefer the rain."
Arms snaked around her waist suddenly pulling her toward his warm body. "Cold?"
She leaned against him, not sure why he was being so gentle all the sudden, but grateful for the warmth. "Not now." The arms tightened.
Their walk slowed. They were only a block away from 12 Grimmauld Place, and Ginny didn't want to go there with all the people that were undoubtedly there, waiting for his return eagerly. "Are people waiting for you?"
"At Grimmauld Place?"
He chuckled. "They aren't always there, Ginny. I'm not even there. They'll start to filter in within the hour, but for now, the place is empty."
She smiled, liking the idea of being alone with him still. This was the first time she felt close to him since the war ended, but it had started out with a trip to a monster's gravesite.
He stopped, making her stop with her. "What month is it?"
Ginny had to think for a moment. "February. It's been seven months since the war ended."
"It's February already?" he asked, astonished.
"Time flies when you're dealing with the end of a war," she said, but regretted it the moment the words left her mouth.
Despite her unfeeling words, he chuckled. "You're right. I've been a bit self-obsessed lately."
She froze for a moment, hating his words. Without saying a word, she swung around to face him. "Not even close! You were dealing. Merlin, you were even dealing well!" She leaned over and pressed her lips to his. She pulled back a split second later.
"Ginny…" His sentence trailed off, unable to finish his thought.
"Harry, I love you."
He didn't respond for a moment, looking as though he was thinking of a way to reject her gently. "It's the fourteenth isn't it?"
She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes again.
She nodded again, unable to keep up with his thoughts. She felt overwhelmed, rejected, and sad.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Ginny." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "I love you." His mouth ascended upon hers a moment later, making it impossible for her to respond.
The kiss was slow and deep, merely tasting each other. When they broke apart a minute or two later, she dropped her head to his chest, staring at the snow covered street. Her companion's fingers slid under her chin and tilted her head back up to look at him. He was smiling; she didn't know how to feel. Part of her was happy, but a big part of her was just confused. When his hand fell away she dropped her head back and he tightened his arms around her.
Time seemed to inch by as she stood wrapped in his embrace. She wanted to say something, ached to tell him how she was feeling, but she was afraid the moment would be shattered. He was fragile, after the war, visiting the makeshift grave, and she wanted to be careful.
"Yeah?" she spoke to the snow.
She frowned, unsure what to say. "Happy Valentine's Day, Harry." She felt him kiss her hair.
------------------------ORIGINAL REQUESTBriefly describe what you'd like to receive:
I'm not picky, I'll leave the plot up to you! Something to do with Vday, though. Obviuosly.Preferred Rating:
PG13 or below. Nothing too smutty.Specifics you want (optional, maximum of three):
Angst AND Fluff, a cupcake.Deal Breakers (what don't you want?):
Out of characterness! Can't stand that.Thanks for participating in the exchange! Happy Valentine's Day! ♥