The Burrow was full of about one hundred people, Ginny guessed, which was - in short - too much. It was another one of those days when everyone the Weasley’s knew and beyond were invited for a get-together in the family home. She could barely breathe or move in the swarming crowd, so she glanced down at her watch wondering when the whole tiring thing would be over.
Ginny ignored most of the people as they flew past her going about their business, eating snacks and sipping on beverages. She was sitting in the corner of the living room when she decided to retreat to her tiny bedroom, which - thankfully - was free of coats and bags and whatever else people felt like dropping about the house.
She had not lived here for over a year, yet her room was almost the same as she had left it when she was eighteen years old. Her desk sat by the glimmering window gathering dust while the clothes she had left in the wardrobe remained in their places, probably left as keepsakes by Mrs Weasley.
She sat on her bed and fell into her favourite memory of it. Giving Harry his seventeenth birthday kiss had certainly been one of the most exhilarating moments of Ginny’s life. As she sat with her eyes closed, she could almost feel his lips on hers once more, that kiss sealing seven years of passion and many months of longing.
Ginny had always waited for Harry. Those long nights without him during the war … well, she could not bare to think about it. While she was at Hogwarts in her sixth year, she would write him letters. Just small notes telling him about her day. These were all at night of course, when nobody was there to witness her anxiety and distress. She could never send them, seeing as she had no clue where he was but the simple action of writing made her feel as though he was there with her. Each letter she wrote and each tear-stained page released some of her tension; the ink was like emotion spilling onto the parchment.
Back then she would never let anyone know how much she was hurting, not even her siblings or parents - especially not her siblings. Living with six brothers had toughened her up to say the least, but all it took was Harry to break down the walls she spent years building.
Most letters would say, ‘Another bad day, then again, without you, the days are always bad …’ Meanwhile others would mention her triumphs: ‘DA up and running, missing you more than I can say …’
Somehow, everything still came back to him. It was like her life revolved around their existence. That was why she was rolling her eyes in annoyance at the fact that he was late from work that day. A wife could get annoyed at her husband sometime, can’t she?
It used to hurt thinking about him, whether he was safe, alive … But now it made her happy, sent this wild glow around her body. Kind of like that feeling you get on a rollercoaster when it goes upside down, except this lasted forever. Her stomach just flipped at the sight of his messy black hair and those gorgeous green eyes. The word ‘yummy’ came to mind a few times whenever she would go off into a daydream …
Pulling her fingers through her ginger hair, she smiled, thinking - knowing - that she was the luckiest girl in the world.
“Ginny!” Harry’s voice called her name from downstairs and she instantly followed it.
“Where have you been?” She gave him a hug amongst all of the people in the living room.
“Sorry, couldn’t get away,” he apologised.
She smiled at him. “It doesn’t matter. I -”
As usual, someone in the crowd recognised Harry’s face and pulled him aside. This, she was used to, especially in the first year after Voldemort’s defeat. They couldn’t go anywhere without the newspapers, photographers and random magical people following them or wanting a story. Harry did give the magical community some answers to their eager questions, but sometimes he would simply utter “No comment” and move on with his hand securely around Ginny’s.
From the other side of the room, she smiled as Harry pulled a face at her; he was struggling. This wizard opposite him was chatting animatedly and Ginny could tell that he had no clue how to reply or who this man was. Sipping her drink, she left him to it and went upstairs to her bedroom once more.
It was well after midnight when Harry came upstairs to see her. Ginny was laying on her side in her fancy midnight blue dress, asleep.
Harry shook her lightly and whispered, “Time to get up, beautiful.”
Ginny smiled as she stirred. “Stop that …” She was always so embarrassed whenever he said things like that. She felt like that teenager she was years ago.
His laugh was like a tinkling bell. “Time for us to go home.” He helped her up. “Are you okay to Apparate?”
“Sure.” Yawning, she held onto Harry tight around his middle, with her tired face pressed against his chest.
Almost instantly, Harry started then stopped turning on the spot. Although Ginny said that she was up for it, he could tell that she was not in the mood to go anywhere.
Harry pulled the sheets back on her bed and then lifted her up.
As he held his wife in his arms, he looked down on her elegant face. She was the most stunning girl he had ever met - there was no doubt about that. Even though she was exhausted, he could see through her tired eyelids and drained complexion. All he saw, all he ever saw, was her strong good looks and her great personality. She was so fiery, was never afraid to speak her mind and most importantly, loved him for him. There was not many people Harry could pin that label to. There was also not many people who wouldn’t sell him out to the Daily Prophet but that was another story entirely …
He laid Ginny down on her bed and she curled up into a ball immediately. He sat beside her while taking off his shoes.
“You said you would be here at midday,” Ginny muttered, half-asleep, half-upset.
“I know,” Harry replied.
“You got here at seven.” Her voice was no louder than a whisper and was far from accusatory.
“Believe me, I wanted to be here with you. There’s nothing worse than unpaid overtime.”
Ginny laughed and looked over at him. His back was facing her, but as if she had called him, he looked over his shoulder at her.
Harry looked into her apologetically.
“I know you came here early.” He held her hand.
Harry sighed and bent down to kiss her cheek. “ That’s an awful long time, Mrs Potter.”
“The longest time was those months when I had no clue where you were and what you were doing. But even worse that was when you were with -”
Ginny said nothing.
“You don’t need to worry about that, Ginny,” he assured her. “Just like I don’t worry about when you were with all those other boys.”
“It was just two! You’re starting to sound like Fred and George,” she said with a sleepy grin on her lips. “And they were nothing …”
“Come on, you can’t put them down like that.”
“I’m serious, Harry. Michael and Dean were just distractions. Distractions from Parvati Patil, Cho Chang, and every other girl who you were around. I’ve been so patient with us. Maybe a little too patient,” she added smirking.
“If you wanted me to take you to the Yule Ball, all you had to do was ask,” Harry said smiling.
“Sure, and watch you reject me because you couldn’t keep you eyes off Cho? No thanks. Besides, you didn’t even like me then.”
“I loved you then!” he joked.
“Shut up,” she laughed. “Liar.”
Harry tickled her stomach and she yelled out with laughter while her lazy arms writhing and jerked beneath him.
Ginny pushed her hair from her eyes and forced them to open halfway. “I did miss you today, Harry. I was starting to wonder whether you were coming at all.” She said this in an unconcerned fashion, as though his absence never bothered her.
Harry pressed his lips to hers and in that second she felt bad for ever complaining about his appalling timekeeping.
As he drew away, he bit his lip, thinking about how many hours the love of his life had been yearning for his presence.
“I’m sorry, Ginny. How long have you -?” he asked softly while looking into her blue eyes.
“Don’t you see, Harry? I’ve been waiting for you since I was ten years old. What’s another couple of hours?”
Ginny wrapped her arms around him and he laid by her side while she dozed off to sleep. He looked over every hair on her head, felt her breath against his cheek and could not help but smile, thinking - knowing - that he was the luckiest man in the world.