Solitary Worlds
VI.
Three MonthsThey were on a purple couch. Ginny had bought it just after the war, when she’d spent so much time fighting evil that she hadn’t been making money, and so had ended up rummaging through old second-hand shops. The garish sofa clashed horribly with Ginny’s hair, of course, and her general disposition. It was, without a doubt, one of the most eye-attracting pieces in the room.
At the moment, the only eyes around belonged to the people on the couch. They were lying down on opposite ends of the couch, smiles on their faces and in their eyes. They’d just finished a game of exploding snap, in which both of them had cheated terribly. Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans had been consumed in quantity, as had many, many other sweets.
In fact, it had been a pleasant night all round. It had been fun, friendly.
Frankly, it had been a little too friendly, and not in the way Ginny wanted.
It was three months after the end of the Second War. Harry had defeated Voldemort in a terrible battle that cost too much for everyone involved. Even worse than the battle itself was the aftermath. It had taken time for them to recover. All of them.
Particularly Ginny and Harry.
Something had changed that night. Somewhere between the screams and the demands, between the sibilant hiss of Voldemort and the curses, the two had had to make a choice: Each other, or the world the were fighting for.
Unquestioningly, they had made the decision, had left each other to fend for themselves. It hadn’t been accidental. They had known, almost with a certainty, that they wouldn’t see each other again, wouldn’t be the same if they met once more –
-- and still they left.
And now they were trying to pick up the pieces. They’d spent time apart, spent time trying to gather themselves up. The things they’d seen, the people they’d hurt, the people who’d been hurt – all those experiences were different and new and painful and they would never talk about it.
There was something more there. And yet, at the same time, there was something less.
Harry was not the same boy she’d loved. She was not the same girl he’d loved.
She popped another Every Flavour Bean into her mouth. Perfect. Choc-peppermint ice cream. Harry grinned at her, his feet nudging hers. “So, what’s your family been up to?”
“Bill’s been receiving treatment. Fred and George have been let out of Mungos, and both are fine physically. Ron and Hermione are engaged. Mum and Dad...they haven’t said Percy’s name since it happened.” She gave a small smile. “It’s hard. Mostly we just pretend we’re okay and one day we will be.”
He was silent, and then his hand reached for hers, clasped it tightly. “Ginny,” he said huskily, “I want you to know that I...”
She smiled. “I know.”
He leaned in close. She almost laughed with relief. He still felt something for her. It was too early to define what, exactly, but there was something. She knew he was going to kiss her...his lips were coming closer and closer...she could almost feel them, their comforting warmth, the closeness and familiarity. She remembered all that passion they’d shared. How she longed to feel it again.
Finally he kissed her.
It lasted seconds. It lasted an eternity.
Finally he drew back, looking slightly puzzled. She stared at him in dismay.
Something had changed. They’d known that it wouldn’t be the same, but there shouldn’t have been – nothing.
He smiled awkwardly. Their hands were still linked. “I guess...” he was silent for a second. “I guess it’s over?”
She nodded, tears in her eyes. “But you know, Harry, that I’ll always...”
He smiled. “I know.” He tugged on her hand, pulled her close and hugged her. She snuggled up beside him.
She loved him, in some way. But there were some things you just couldn’t go through and come out the same.
They’d gone into it knowing they’d have to make sacrifices.
She just hadn’t expected this one.
He hugged her, held her tightly.
Mostly we just pretend we’re okay and one day we will be. They wouldn’t be okay.
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