MetaFic

Harry’s semi-sleep state was jarred to complete wakefulness by the jostling of his shoulder. His wand was pointed at the offender before he had finished blinking the sleep from his eyes.

Kreacher ignored the wand poking his chest, ““My pardon, Master Harry, you asked Kreacher to wake you at half past the dawn hour.”

Feeling a bit sheepish at his reaction Harry answered quickly, “Yes. Right. Thank you, ah, Kreacher.” Harry stood and moved to put his wand in a robe pocket, but paused to look at it and marvel at the repair from yesterday. How he had missed its familiar warmth!

His moment of introspection was interrupted by Kreacher; “Is Master accepting guests at this hour?”

“Guests? Who want to see me at this hour?”

“Miss Weasley. She has been most insistent, but Kreacher is a good elf and allowed Master his rest.”

Ginny. Ginny! “Oh dear God,” Harry muttered with shock, “How… Has she been waiting long? Wait… before you answer my first question,” Harry added cautiously, “what sort of mood is she in?”

“She seems impatient rather that angry, if that is what Master wants to know. More of a Prewett trait than that of a Weasley, if you wish my opinion,” the elf added. “She appeared outside the door about an hour ago.”

“About an hour…” Harry groaned to himself.

With a sigh, Harry sat up. “Please let her in. Just her, though. We need to talk privately and I don’t know how long that will last. Before you go, could you bring breakfast… for two? Do you have more of the bread you used for the sandwiches? It was excellent!”

Kreacher smiled at the compliment. “Of course, Master Harry. Kreacher is honoured to serve.”

He snapped his fingers and the door to the dorm room opened as he disappeared with a pop.

Ginny stood in the open doorway; she had apparently not bathed or changed clothing since the end of the battle either. Her hair was a tangled mess; dirt was smeared across her cheeks where she appeared to have wiped some tears. The rest of the soot and dust served to mute the freckles across her face. Her jumper and denim trousers bore rips, dirt, soot and what appeared to be blood stains. Even from across the room Harry could smell the acrid smoke and dried sweat. When she saw him her pensive look changed to the hard, blazing one; the one coupled with the feel of her lips on his that were the last things Harry remembered before Voldemort hit him with the Avada Kedvra curse. Although still filthy and disheveled from the battle, he thought she was the most beautiful girl on the face of the earth.

Her enticing look became wary as she drew her wand and asked, “What did I give you for your seventeenth birthday?”

He smiled and replied, “A kiss that sustained me during all my months on the run.”

She crossed the room quickly while Harry stood from the bed. Pausing before him she stroked his cheek and whispered “Harry” as if his name were a prayer. And then she slapped him, hard.

“Why the bloody hell did you do that?” Harry said with shock.

“Why the bloody hell were you dead?” she shot back.

“Oh… I actually try not to think about that too much,” he haltingly replied while carefully rubbing the side of his face.

“Do you know what my Boggart is?” she shouted while she gestured harshly at the floor.

“I’m… Ginny I’m so sorry about Fred,” Harry responded.

“You stupid, bloody, arse!” she shouted even louder. “Boggarts were the Carrows’ second favorite form of detention. They took away your wand and placed you in the center of a large classroom with a Boggart for the duration of the detention. I know the younger students actually preferred being used for Cruciatius practice.”

Harry looked at her, sharply. What little remorse he felt over using that Unforgivable on Alecto vanished. Ginny backed away from him an empty look replaced the anger in her eyes. Any hint of the confident girl he cared for so much had evaporated.

She turned away from him and looked down at the hand she had used to slap him. Her voice was quiet, with a fragile tenor, as she told him, “I spent hours, this year, staring at your dead body on the floor. All the while the Carrows, and the Slytherin prefects, would laugh and jeer at me from the edges of the room. I kept telling myself it wasn’t true, but sometimes it was so hard…”

Harry stood mute as she began to weep bitterly. He had never seen her cry before and felt and powerless at causing her such distress.

When her tears subsided she continued to talk. “And what did I see yesterday? I had to stand and watch as that bastard laid your dead body at his feet, like some sick trophy, while the rest of his effing Death Eaters laughed and jeered. I would have beaten Neville to him if Ron and Hermione hadn’t held me back. But of course not,” she hissed, “I had to be kept safe. All I could do was scream your name and plead for God to show mercy and strike me dead, too.”

She paused as a great sob consumed her. She looked back at him, wiping these new tears with both hands, smearing the dirt on her cheeks even more.

“Why?” she asked with another sob.

Harry paused as he pondered such an open, laden, question. “Why? Why um… what, exactly?”

Her voice was still small but her confusion was apparent. “Why did I see you… dead? Why are you alive now? Are you really alive, or this merely another ghastly dream? They say you… why do you have… are you really the Master of the Elder Wand?”

She looked him in the eye, her tone bitter again, “Why did you betray me to my parents in the Room of Requirement?”

Then the confusion returned, “Why didn’t you let me see you until now? Where were you for most of yesterday? Almost a year of hoping for answers, posing questions to all my whats, and now all I can think to ask is… Why?”

Harry sighed; answering her question would take a while. But he realised he had all the time in the world now and answering her question would be the most important thing he would ever do in his life.

Ginny apparently thought his silence was a dismissal. It hurt Harry to hear the resignation in her voice as she said, “Oh. I guess… I think I should be going, then.”

“No!” Harry ordered, and cast a locking charm on the door. “I… we… need - ”

He was interrupted by a soft pop as Kreacher reappeared with a sumptuous breakfast spread, for two.

Looking at the house elf she said “I see; you’re expecting someone. Well… I won’t take anymore of your time.” She strode to the door and tried to open it. When it didn’t budge she begged, “Harry, please let me go.”

Ignoring Ginny, Kreacher announced, “Master, Minister Shacklebolt wants you to meet him in the Trophy room.”

Ginny rattled the door latch and then tried an unlocking charm. “Harry, unlock this bloody door and let me out of here!” she said, her temper obviously rising.

Harry pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at the time; it was half six.

“Kreacher, I’ll give you an answer for the Minister in a moment. Right now, can you arrange for no one, except you, to enter this room while I remain here?”

“Master desires his privacy? Of course Master, I can do that.”

“And can you arrange it so the only ones who can open that door and leave are you, me, and… Miss Weasley.” His erstwhile girlfriend looked over at him with a confused frown.

“Yes, Master,” the elf replied with a slight smile.

“Excellent, Kreacher,” Harry said with a smile of his own. He thought for a moment, trying to remember some of the Pureblood manners Sirius had tried to teach him. He spoke to the elf in a formal manner, “Please send my regards to the Minister and tell him I shall meet with him for dinner, at six, this evening. If he wants more of an answer you may tell him I am… uh… I am resolving an issue of great importance to me and I will not be disturbed.”

Ginny tried the door latch again and looked surprised as the door swung open. She turned to Harry and softly asked, “What are you doing?”

Ignoring her for a moment Harry continued, “Also I want you to fetch the Pensieve from the Headmaster’s office. Bring any memory phials in there. Miss Weasley, Ginny, asked me a question... a number of questions actually, and I’ll need it to help answer her.”

With a soft pop the Kreacher disappeared.

Gesturing to the now open door Harry said, “Ginny, you can leave if you want, but I don’t want you to go. You asked a very hard question… questions… Answering them is going to take time and I don’t want any interruptions.”

“All right,” Ginny drawled in an unsure tone. She shut the door and joined Harry; standing at the table laden with food.

“I’ll tell you why. Why I had to face Voldemort alone. Why I am the bloody Boy Who Lived; twice as a matter of fact,” he added with a shrug. “Why Ron, Hermione and I left last summer, why we came back here two days ago. Why that diary you defeated during your first year was more important than we first realized.”

She looked to him sharply, and then shaking her head she answered sadly, “You defeated Tom Riddle, not me.”

“No,” Harry replied firmly, “all that year, before anyone knew, before I even got to the Chamber, you beat him.” Harry realised he repeated Ron’s shout from the previous day. Harry leaned toward her and held her face lovingly in his hands. With every bit of pride he could muster in his voice he told her, “You, Ginny Weasley. You beat him!”

Ginny huffed in disbelief, but didn’t argue. “Okay, but why do you need a Pensieve?”

“Because what I have to tell you it isn’t all my story to tell. In addition to my memories you will see those of Dumbledore and Snape.”

“Snape?” she spat, “What has that sick bastard have to do with anything?”

Harry found himself laughing for a moment. “Yeah, my thoughts exactly, but he was always Dumbledore’s man. I know why, and so will you.”

“What will Ron and Hermione say, about you letting me in on your little secrets?”

“I haven’t told them about these memories yet. I don’t plan to either, at least not for a while. For now, possibly forever, the only ones who know everything will just be us.”

“Us? You seem to be making a bold presumption, Mr. Potter. Is there still an us?” she asked, bitterness creeping back into her voice.

“One of the things I’ve learned this past year is I have to work for what I want.”

Harry drew Ginny into a close hug. She resisted, initially, but as she relaxed into his arms he gently kissed the top of her head. “I told you last year our time together seemed out of someone else’s life. I’ve become that someone and I never want us to be apart again.”

“That sounds nice, but I don’t need you following me into the loo,” she said into his chest. Harry squeezed her tight for a moment and then laughed; Ginny began to softly chuckle.

“That’s not quite what I meant. I know we’ll be separated at times; you want to play Chaser for the Harpies and I want to become an Auror. But separated does not mean apart. I mean it; I never want us to be apart again. I sure can’t force you into anything, Ginny, but I’m asking you to join me. I want that other life, with you. I want an us. ”

He kissed her mouth then, softly at first, and then more aggressively, matching her responding fervor.

A soft pop, followed by a slightly louder “ahem” caused them to pull away, slightly, from each other. Kreacher had returned bringing a large stone Pensieve on a pedestal.

“My apologies, Master,” the elf said with the hint of a smile. “Kreacher brings word from the Minister. He says he understands and is at your disposal. I am to let him know when you are available to meet with him.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow at this. “The Minister for Magic is at YOUR disposal? What have you been doing while you were away?”

“Oh, you know… bit of infiltrating the Ministry, stealing a Dark artifact from Gringotts, destroying a Dark Lord.”

“What about chasing Veelas?”

“Oh please, Ginny! I was busy and had absolutely no time to go chasing after Veelas!”

“So there was a silver lining after all?”

Harry chuckled at this. “Things will make more sense if we look at the memories order, starting with the prophecy.”

Ginny drew in a startled breath. “You are the Chosen One!”

Harry frowned and replied, “Yeah.”

“Sorry,” she answered, “sometimes it all seems a bit… much, you know. May I make a request, though?”

“What?” Harry said curiously.

Ginny gave him a mischievous smile, ““Did you really steal something from Gringotts and escape on a dragon?”

“It isn’t as fun as it sounds, but yeah. I can show you that. But in return I’d like to know… Did you really steal Gryffindor’s sword from the Headmaster’s office?”

Ginny grimaced. “We weren’t successful. I thought you needed it; I don’t know how Neville got it yesterday.”

“Well, Miss Weasley, this is going to be a very interesting day!” Harry placed his wand tip to his temple and pulled a silvery strand into the Pensieve.

Ginny looked into the bowl. Sounding worried she asked, “So this will be just us looking at all this?”

Harry took Ginny’s hand. “I can’t promise it will be just us forever, but I can promise it will always be just us first.”

Ginny turned and took Harry’s other hand. “I can live with that,” she said with the hint of a smile.

Harry smiled back. “So can I. All right. We both lean forward and put our faces into the liquid. Ready?”

Ginny nodded. Her smile grew as she joined Harry to make ‘someone else’s life’ become their own.