Notes: Yes, another Harry Potter ficlet. This idea has been swimming around in my head for a little while, so I decided to finally share it with the world. Or the part of the world that reads Harry/Ginny fanfiction anyway. Enjoy
The Truth About Love
"Ron!" screamed Ginny, pushing herself forward as fast as her Cleansweep could go. "For god's sake Ron, she's right on your tail!"
Ginny should have known she had nothing to worry about, because Hermione, so often the most skillful and intelligent of the four of them, was complete rubbish at Quidditch.
Ron passed the Quaffle off to Ginny and quickly went back to circle their own goalposts. Two-on-two Quidditch was much more strenuous than playing with a full seven person team, because not only did you need to concentrate on scoring, but also on defending your own goal and dodging the Bludgers because there were no Beaters to deflect them.
"Think you're about to score, do you Weasley?" a low, almost seductive voice reached Ginny's ears as she raced toward the goalposts.
Harry, on his far superior Firebolt, was just beside her and quickly pulling ahead.
Ginny ducked her head and urged her Cleansweep to go faster, clutching the Quaffle to her like a an infant child.
"Oh, more than that," she called to him. "I'm about to beat you Harry James Potter!" she ended it with a holler.
But Harry was aggressive, even if he wasn't used to playing Chaser. He swung in front of her just as she released the Quaffle and sent it soaring through the golden hoop on the left.
The Quaffle dropped easily through the goal and then plummeted to the ground.
Unfortunately, it was accompanied by Ginny, who's sharp brake had caused her to fly over the handle of her broom, flip over and fall twenty feet to the ground.
"Shit!" Harry screamed, urging his Firebolt into a dive alongside her falling form. Being the spectacular Seeker he was, Harry wasn't at all doubtful of his ability to make the save.
He caught her about seven feet off the ground. What he didn't account for was that Ginny Weasley happened to weight far more than a tiny Snitch did. He grabbed her arm and held fast and tried to drag her over his broom. Instead the two of them toppled together to the ground and landed in a heap of arms and legs.
Seeing the fall and worrying over their friends, Ron and Hermione quickly flew over and landed gently—in Ron's case, anyway—beside them.
Harry and Ginny untangled themselves and looked around, bewildered.
Ron was howling with laughter.
"Honestly Ron, it's not funny," Hermione reprimanded him. "They could have gotten really hurt!"
Harry shook his head and ignored his two friends. Instead he got to his feet and offered Ginny a hand. "God Gin, I'm really sorry. I definitely didn't mean for that to happen."
"Hey, it's not your fault the Cleensweep's brake isn't as smooth as a Firebolt or Nimbus," she replied, taking his hand. "Anyway, we're all right."
"That was an excellent goal you scored," Harry told her and tugged her gingerly to her feet.
Before she had fully gotten her balance, she yelped in pain and pitched forward. Quick-thinking as always, Harry lurched forward to catch her around the waist. She fell in a heap onto his shoulder, her cheek on his collarbone.
"Woah…you okay?" he asked, turning to face her, his tone concerned.
"Yeah," she grimaced, betraying her words. "Fine."
Harry's look darkened. "Is it your ankle?"
Ginny balked. "How'd you know?"
He helped her stand up again, supporting her right side by slinging her arm over his shoulder. "You hurt it in the Department of Mysteries, remember? You must have re-injured it after we fell. Come on, I'll take you inside."
Ginny didn't quite know what to say, so instead she simply let him act as a crutch and hobbled beside him across the pitch. Turning her head, she hollered back to Ron and Hermione (whose bickering had ceased) that she and Harry were going inside, but they'd be back soon to continue the game.
Hermione started after them, but Ron patiently put a hand on her shoulder and she turned away.
Ginny and Harry stumbled into the kitchen of the burrow and Harry eased her into a chair.
"Mom's not here," Ginny said, just remembering. "She's out looking at wedding invitations with Phlegm."
Harry let out an appreciate chuckle at Ginny's 'pet-name' for Fleur. Then his expression darkened. "No one's here to fix your ankle, then?"
Ginny clasped her hands together and said with a dramatic sigh, "Oh dear, I do think I have to go to the hospital!"
"That bad?" Harry said seriously.
Ginny whacked him playfully and he winced upon contact. "Poor baby," she pouted.
Dragging a stool over from the corner of the kitchen, Harry sat down facing her. There was space on the stool in front of him.
"Here, put your foot here. You're supposed to keep injuries elevated," Harry instructed.
She looked at him for a moment as if trying to decide something. Then Ginny raised her injured ankle and set it gingerly on the stool in front of Harry. She waggled her toes at him and smiled.
"Ice?" Harry asked, and Ginny motioned toward the refrigerator. He opened the top door and pulled out an ice pack from the freezer.
Coming back to Ginny, he put the ice pack on her ankle, where the sprain was. He could tell because it was already swelling up there.
"How do you know all this stuff anyway?" Ginny asked.
"What stuff?" Harry answered distractedly.
"How to treat a sprained ankle. I sure don't know a sprain from a fracture."
"Well, you know, I have a knack for getting injured. I guess I just figured out to do when stuff like this happens. You know, getting attacked by giant, horn tailed lizards, falling fifty feet from a broomstick because a dementor tried to suck out my soul, things like that," Harry said cheekily, grinning at her. Gently he prodded at her ankle. "Does that hurt?"
She shook her head. He prodded at another spot and she winced.
"Okay," he said after getting her reaction. "It doesn't seem too bad. Do you have any antiseptic?"
"Sure," Ginny said good-naturedly. "Right above the microwave and next to the televisor."
Harry gave her a reproachful look. "That's television."
She shrugged.
"Well if you don't have any, we'll just have to make due with what we do have," he scanned the kitchen for anything that could be of use. He got up and searched through a drawer of placemats and dishtowels.
"Harry?" Ginny asked over all his rummaging.
"What Ginny?"
"All those times you got hurt, Madame Pomfrey could just wave her wand, practically, and you'd be fine," Ginny said hesitantly.
"Not when I had to re-grow all the bones in my arm," Harry replied, moving on from the placemat drawer to another cabinet. "That was pretty painful."
"My point is, I don't think even Madame Pomfrey knows you have to levitate—"
"Elevate," Harry corrected.
Ginny rolled her eyes, "Right. Elevate the injury. And I highly doubt you played 'doctor' very much in your childhood—"
She stopped short, realizing what she had just said.
Harry didn't notice the abrupt stop and replied easily, "Not very many people to play with now was there? Only thing Dudders ever wanted to play was Harry-is-a-punchingbag. That, I can tell you, is not a very fun game for Harry."
He stopped when he finally realized Ginny had gone silent. Dead silent. He turned. "Gin? You okay?"
She was staring determinedly down at her knees, breathing in very short, quick breaths. If Harry didn't know better, he would say she looked angry.
"Ginny?" he came toward her and crouched down so he was looking up into her face. "What's going on?"
Her doe brown eyes flickered toward him and then away again.
"Ginny wha…?"
She started to speak and then stopped. Deciding to try again, she said, "Your…your uncle and your aunt. They…I mean, they hurt you, didn't they? And that's how you know what to do when your ankle is sprained or your arm is broken or you get a black eye…because they would do that to you and you just…"
The image of little Harry, not yet eleven, bandaging his own injuries, putting a band-aid on with surgeon-like precision, was enough to break Ginny's heart. He had no mother to kiss his booboos and tell him everything would be all right. He only had two mean, vile creatures as family who caused such injuries. Who laughed at such hurts.
She glanced back at him and saw him staring downward at the floor, as if the tiling had suddenly become immensely interesting. She knew he felt her gaze on him, but he didn't move.
"Oh Harry," she cried and, surprising the green-eyed boy immensely, threw her arms around him.
Surprised, Harry look up and awkwardly patted her shoulder. Her arms tightened around him.
"Hey Ginny…" he said quietly. "I'm okay, right? Haven't kicked the bucket yet, have I?"
"Not funny," Ginny mumbled, pulling away from him.
"What's got you so upset?" Harry asked, brushing his hand on her arm as it slid from his shoulder.
"What's got me so upset?" she repeated hotly. "Because it's not fair, that's why! Why did you have to grow up in a house where the people who were supposed to love you instead hurt you? It's not fair Harry, you should have been loved!"
There was silence after her proclamation. After a moment, Harry said quietly, "I am."
Ginny stared at him. Then, with burning ferocity, she returned. "Yes, you are and don't you ever forget it, Potter."
He laughed at this. Actually laughed. And here Ginny was trying to be all sentimental. The boy just laughs.
"And what exactly is so funny?" Ginny asked testily.
"It's just…" Harry paused. "I grew up thinking I was normal, and then later I found out I wasn't. I was a wizard—and a bloody famous one at that."
"Yes, good to see it doesn't go to your head," Ginny commented dryly.
"But I guess the irony is…I never got to experience anything normal until I found this completely unnormal world. Does that make sense?"
Ginny slowly shook her head. "Maybe to some one as unnormal as you," she teased. Then she leaned forward, folding her undamaged leg up and propping her chin on her knee. "Now, tell me more about this antiseptic stuff. I'm fascinated."
Harry laughed again and Ginny made a silent vow to herself. She was going to protect that laugh and that smile and that boy and make sure no one ever hurt him again. She was going to make sure he was always loved.
End notes: I'd like to think of this as a sort of 'missing moment' in HBP. I wanted to find a way for Ginny to become close to Harry in a way that is different from Ron and Hermione. I might do another one of these 'missing moments' if get another idea.
For now though, please tell me what you think!