Chapter 8 : Adventures and Last Days
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Harry hadn’t left the room in hours, his stomach was growling and his eyes were puffy and sore from crying. He wanted to go get some food but didn’t want to run into Ron or Hermione, or any of the members of the Order. What would the think if they saw his puffy red eyes? They’d know he’d been crying for hours in his godfather’s old bedroom.
He heard a soft knock on the door and was unsure what to do. He kept quiet thinking they would go away if they thought he was sleeping
They knocked again, louder and more urgent this time. He didn’t answer, he just waited for them to go away, whoever them was. The knocked again and Harry was sure everyone in the house would hear the loud pounding, but he didn’t budge.
“Harry Potter, if you think I don’t know you’re wide awake, well, you’re just a git. Now, open the door,” Ginny said loudly and forcefully.
Harry stood up and looked at his robes; he could still see the salty stains from his large tears so on his way to the door he pulled them off and threw them on his trunk. He pulled the doors open and was glad to see the hallway was just as dim as his room. Ginny wouldn’t be able to see that he had been crying.
She carried a tray of food and stood looking much more mature and her own age. Harry let her walk into the room and shut the doors securely before looking at her.
“Ron thought you fell asleep and Hermione thought you’d fallen into a time warp before she attempted to explain some muggle television show. I offered to bring you food,” she said as she looked at him. He looked hungry and tired, the exact opposite of the way he had looked the night before. She set the tray down and pulled him into a hug. She felt his arms wrap around her body and squeeze her tightly. He didn’t release her for a few minutes and his grip didn’t relax the entire time.
He finally let go of her seconds after he said quietly, “I love you, Gin.”
She kissed him softly on the lips before grabbing his hand and walking him over to the food. They ate together silently, not wanting to spoil the moment that seemed perfect. They occasionally smiled oddly, making the other laugh and cover their mouth as they chewed a large bite of their dinner.
Harry watched as Ginny picked up the tray and started towards the door after they finished eating. He didn’t want her to leave, he wanted to spend time laying in her arms and letting the smell of gingersnaps and honeysuckle that always accompanied her wash over him.
“Will you stay?” Harry asked her before she reached the door. She stopped and looked back at him. He was standing in a way that made Ginny want to rock him in her arms like a baby, but maybe it wasn’t the stance but her love for him that made her feel that way. She set the tray back down and walked over to Harry. She looked into his eyes expecting to see his soul and the person she had seen just the night before, but instead she felt as if she was starring into the eyes of a lost little boy. Ginny new he was lost and often felt alone, but she never thought of Harry in that way. He had always been her hero, and after her second year, he was. Was this the same person who had saved her? No, Sirius had changed him, given him some hope that Voldemort and his death eaters had taken away. She looked at him unsure if she could bear his pain or burden.
She now wanted to run, but it wasn’t her heart that told her this, but that small part of her that still had Voldemort. He was still there, trying to corrupt Ginny and control her, but Harry’s presence always squelched the voice. Their love was conquering Voldemort.
“I’ll stay,” she finally said knowing she had to from the beginning. She couldn’t leave him no matter ho much pain he was in or how heavy his burden was, she would never leave his side.
Harry slipped his hand into hers and led her over to the bed. They laid down, his head in her lap, he felt as if he were home, and as they lay their silently, the smell of gingersnaps and honeysuckle floated into Harry’s nose.
They were silent for a while, each unsure what to say or if they should say anything. Harry stopped searching for words eventually and forgot everything, Sirius and his parents, Voldemort and the Death Eaters, Ron and Ginny’s family. If felt as if they were the only two people in the world.
Ginny looked down at Harry, into the emerald green eyes that had made an appearance in her dreams countless times, and she saw the real Harry. The lost little boy was gone, maybe not forever, but for now. She smiled at him.
“Are you scared?” she asked him wondering how his mind worked. She wanted to know his true fear, if it was death or life. His family was dead, and he could join them, she could see in his eyes that he knew that, but she could also see that he wasn’t going to run away. He was going to stand fast no matter what, and that scared her a little as she thought about their future together.
“Of what?” he asked.
“Anything,” she said wanting him to spill all his secrets.
“No,” he said truthfully, and at first she thought he was shoving her out, but she realized he wasn’t. She knew he was an extraordinary person that would amaze her at every turn and his lack of fear comforted her as thoughts of the war danced in hear head.
They didn’t think of the next month, in which Harry would begin to understand the paintings and get over Sirius’ death along with his parents’ deaths. He got to know the real Lily and James. His father was just as daring as Sirius and loved to listen to Harry and Ron tell them of their adventures. His mother, on the other hand, tried more than once to flatten his hair through the painting and often pointed out when he had dirt smudged on his face. She also liked to point out that summer vacation was drawing an end even though his homework wasn’t done, but that wasn’t all. She loved to hear is stories too and she would gasp and cringe at all the right parts, when he and Ron had told his father he had cheered with his two best friends.
He barely left the house and never returned to the secret apartment, not yet anyways. He had school to prepare for and a hole to fill. He would listen to countless stories from his father, Sirius, and Remeus, though he noticed Peter was always left out.
The last few days of August arrived and Fred and George could be seen slipping candies into trunks and pockets while everyone rushed around. Mrs. Weasley was seen floating last minute laundry through the house, an occasional piece of clothing falling from the neatly folded stacks, which was usually someone’s underwear. Ron had been rather embarrassed when Fred and George had strung a pair of his underwear over the head of one of the mounted house elves, which every member of the Order noticed on their way to a meeting.
On their last night, Harry sat with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, whose honeysuckle and gingersnap smell was very strong, at the top of the steps hoping the members would get angry and start yelling since Fred and George had confiscated all of their Extendable Ears after becoming secretive members.
“Bunch of gits, I say,” Ron said in the silence, “should’ve nicked a few, Ginny.”
Ginny looked at her brother, “Would have if they didn’t have a charm on everything in the store.”
The meeting let out and the four listened for any clue as to what was happening but the members disclosed nothing, even their mischievous brothers wouldn’t tell them anything.
Mrs. Weasley came out last and yelled at the four to get to bed as soon as she set eyes on them. They all ran up the stairs, but didn’t go into their own rooms, but up to Harry’s luxurious room. They sat on his bed joking along with the paintings until they fell asleep one by one. Ron was first, then Hermione, then Ginny after a quick kiss from Harry, and Harry was last to fall asleep, his thoughts swimming with the next day’s events and what his sixth year would hold, but not of Voldemort who was planning his next attack on the boy.
Sequel to Harry Potter and the Secret Apartment
A/N: You've taken the time to read... so please review!
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