I heard someone on twitter saying " Ginny fell first but Harry fell harder " which i think is nonsense and overshadows Ginny's feelings and love for Harry and says why :
1- Ginny herself said she never gave up on Harry and always had hope and just started to go out and see other people thanks to Hermione's advice and start to be herself around Harry .
2- The books are from Harry pov of course we know more about his feelings and thoughts about other people , his views and opinions etc . If the books were from Ginny pov or JK wrote her pov we would know the details about her feelings for Harry .
3 - The love and dreams and the thoughts Harry had about Ginny specially in book 6 and 7, Ginny most likely had the same thing for him specially dreams of being with Harry intimate and missing him when he was out with Ron and Hermione during the horcrux haunt .
Many say she's perfect for Harry ( which is true) but people forget how perfect Harry is for Ginny and how much she loves him and that is a really underrated thing for even Hinny shippers talking about Ginny feelings for Harry and how much she loves him and he is her soulmate and her best source of happiness and hang out.
Do you agree?
I think the entire crux of the "she fell first, he fell harder" trope is the fact that people often misunderstand it by thinking he probably fell in love more.
That's not the case though.
I believe that the first one to fall in love gets to think about it. And by that, I mean, decide, double-think, delude from a distance. The first one to fall in love falls gracefully. They get to understand their own feelings, weigh if they're worth to keep and pursue. But most importantly, while they fall in love, they have the power to keep themselves intact.
The last to fall in love falls like they've been hit by a fucking truck at the bottom of a hill. For them, love hits them out of nowhere. It might have been there all the time, but they might have been too stupid to realize it, but when they do, it's like the world does a 180. For them, love becomes deafening, suffocating, and it claws at their soul, because they lose their will to understand their own feelings except acknowledge the fact that "Yes, I want this person. I love them."
That's the entire story about Harry and Ginny. We only see Harry's reaction to Ginny having a crush on him, growing up, moving on, becoming a powerhouse of her own. Normally, for a person like Harry with so many things going wrong in his life all at the same time, that's not something worth noticing. But still, she's there, in the back of her mind, growing up, taking a place in his mind as if it was her own. And then, he realizes. And after, he falls. So, we see the wild, crazed, yearning part of him realising that fuck, he fucking loved this girl. His best friend's sister. And so much more than that.
And we never see Ginny's side of it. But that's fine, because her feelings were never for show. She realized they were hers to keep and protect and for only one boy to know about them, a long time ago.
Okay but it’s fucking brilliant that one of the themes of the book was about the distortion of history.
Usually prequels are a dangerous thing to write because unless they’re planned out well in advance, they risk contradicting lore in the main series. Even still, we knew barely anything about Haymitch’s games. They were the perfect stomping ground for new information, with a rough series of events but without a close temporal connection to the main books.
But though she had this freedom and safety net, while she could have just written a story that aligned with what we knew, Collins leaned into the idea of contradicting past lore head on and made it the damn thesis of the book; that yeah, actually, it did play out entirely differently from how the characters saw it, and yes that contradicts what you were told, that’s the point.
We didn’t really know what happened in the 50th games until we read it from Haymitch’s perspective, because what little information we did have was spliced up and edited. The video evidence was processed through the Capital, and twisted to serve their purposes.
Tackling that idea of history being written by those in power with a notoriously inconsistent medium? Goddamn, writer that you are, Suzanne Collins.
SotR is a realisation. A realisation that the rebellion didn’t start with Katniss. That all the people we see supporting her or helping her have all been wanting to fight but they’ve been failing. That there weren’t merely “rumours” of a revolution but there were many active plans playing out and failing.
It’s a reminder that the perfect Hunger Games we saw in the first hg book was an illusion because we had Katniss as our narrator. We didn’t have Haymitch, hell, we didn’t even have someone like Peeta because these people played the games. Katniss didn’t.
Katniss was introduced to us as a mad, simple, naive girl who literally only survived because of others. She didn’t know how much her taking Prim’s place mattered because she didn’t realise what it meant to everyone who came before her. To everyone who had heard rumours of how the last District 12 victor actually fought his games. No, Katniss had just kept her head down, hunting and providing for her family.
See, she grew up way before the Games got to her. She’d already lived through her dad’s death and watched it destroy her once lively mom. Haymitch didn’t have to go through that. Lucy Gray didn’t have to go through that. They were both angry, yes, but at the Capitol. Katniss? She was first and foremost angry at her mom. At her dad. She knew who was to blame but she had too much to do and deal with to think about that. She was already jaded in a way that the Games couldn’t touch.
Peeta? He was Haymitch. He knew what he was getting into and realised he was just on a chess board with no control. So, he adapted. He played the knight, the rook, the king, the pawn. Katniss? She just… did. Changing directions, not playing the piece she was assigned because she didn’t realise that’s what was going on. Remember her surprise at the crown twisting into two after the Games?? She was so oblivious. Until Catching Fire where everything caught up to her. Where everything so many other people had been waiting and working for caught up to her.
SotR is a history book. Rewritten and edited and published as a piece of fact. SotR is a mirror and it’s a reflection of what actually happens vs what ends up being shown. SotR is the playbook of those in control of any and every kind of media that we come in touch with. SotR is a wake up call and I truly don’t know how many will see it as such.
Ignoring the fact that at one point in his life, Harry depended on Ginny for emotional support and solace, this self-claimed author would like to bring light on the fact that yes, Harry and Ginny were indeed a best-friends to lovers trope as much as Hermione and Ron were.
Sure, there was never much light on how Harry and Ginny's story started, but it was slow. From strangers to his best friend's sister, to a worthy opponent and teammate in Quidditch, to a trusted comrade in war, it's impossible to ignore what came in between.
And that was the quiet nights spent talking, the friendly banter during Quidditch, Harry seeking Ginny out when the world became a tad too much for him, Ginny calling out Harry for his pompous heroism and self-sacrifice, Harry being there during Ginny's reckless moments and her boy troubles, the after-class conversations beside the lake, the nights with spiced chocolate in the common room, Harry thinking to himself that he needed to tell Ginny what happened in class today and hurrying to find her, Ginny doing the same.
It was slow until Harry realised that indeed, it was Ginny's soft voice that got through him most times than not, and after that, it was not long before Ron and Hermione understood it too.
It came to a point where it was Ginny that they called anytime Harry was being a stubborn ass, and it was Harry that they called anytime Ginny got into her wild, reckless fits that made them think she'd burn down the world at any moment.
It started them depending on each other emotionally, before they realized that in fact, they couldn't lose one another at all.
And that was also how they realized, that indeed, they were in love.
Summary: 4 times Percy ditched Annabeth for missions and she didn't know why, and 1 time he didn't. Angst and fluff and a lot of percabeth. AU, where Percy is a special forces agent and Annabeth is a doctor. Rated T for mentions of death and mild swearing.
Author's Note: Credits go to @redlion8123 for letting me use their headcanon while writing this fic. The idea is theirs and I am so thankful to them for letting me use it. I let myself go wild with this one, and as this is my first 4+1 fic, I hope you all like it. :D As always, I will be immensely grateful for all those who take the time to read this. Reviews will be much appreciated, and I always welcome constructive criticism.
...
I
...
"He's coding," Annabeth stated plainly, her voice tight as years of training set into place, and she handed over her scalpel to the attending nurse, starting on chest compressions.
Thirty seconds in and she knew it was of no use.
"Charge to 150," she barked as the nurse brought over the defibrillator paddles. "Clear!"
She watched the monitor burst into activity and then die down again.
"Push one of epi!" she commanded. "Resume chest compressions."
Inside, a thin veil of panic was taking over her chest. This man couldn't die, she thought to herself. She'd known Henry for far too long, attended his wedding, been in the room when his daughter was born. She couldn't afford to lose him.
"Charge to 200," she said, peering intently at the chest monitor. A minute had already passed. With his condition, a minute was too long to last.
She waited with bated breath as the shock passed through his body, and then sighed in relief as she saw the heart monitor changing.
"ROSC," she stated, her heart hammering in her chest. "I'll finish off the surgery, and then we'll move him to ICU for further monitoring."
Voices around her agreed in unison as she was yet again handed her ten-blade and forceps, as yet again, her fingers descended into the chest of a decade old friend.
Annabeth really needed a break.
…
She sighed as she walked through the halls of the hospital and reached her office, collapsing immediately on her sofa. Annabeth ran her hands through her hair, which over the years, had lost its shine and was falling apart in her hands.
She really needed to stop taking on back to back 36 hour shifts.
Annabeth groaned as her neck snapped painfully as she turned to lay on her side, her eyes settling on the wall hanging that her boyfriend had given to her on their anniversary. At just the right angle, the sunlight hit the ornament in such a way that the wall above became a mural of waves crashing against each other. It was mesmerising to watch, and on hard days, it had become her solace.
"Hey!" Annabeth turned, as Piper walked in, the familiar scent of lavenders wafting into her office. Annabeth smiled in welcome, as Piper settled in on her sofa. The latter peered in concern as she took in the resigned figure of her counterpart.
"How many hours has it been since you properly slept?"
"A couple of days at most." Annabeth grunted as she struggled to find a proper place to rest her neck in.
"Mother of Zeus, you've got to stop doing that!" Piper exclaimed, her light brown hair glinting in the sunlight, and appearing a gorgeous amber. Piper was stunning, and Annabeth had once questioned whether surgery was really the line for her instead of more fashion oriented professions. But then, Piper had put her in her place, and once she did, that was all.
"I know," Annabeth muttered, her eyes once again floating towards the waves on her ceiling. They were now a bright sea-green, and Annabeth smiled as she was reminded of the eyes of her beloved.
"You heading home?" she asked Piper, who nodded in response.
"Jason wants me back for something."
"Jason always wants you back for something."
"Yeah, well." Piper smiled fondly and Annabeth chuckled as she saw a dreamy expression settling in on her friend' s face. A year into their relationship, but Annabeth had never seen that expression on Piper for anybody else.
"You have that date too, don't you?" she fired back, and Annabeth blushed, as she looked away in embarrassment.
Piper cackled in response.
Truth be told, it was the only thing Annabeth had been looking forward to for weeks to come. Her boyfriend was an international aid worker, meaning he was more often than not, travelling to various places for his job. This meant they couldn't meet up as often as Annabeth would have liked, but it made no difference. In her thirty four years of life, he was the first person with whom Annabeth could truly let go of herself, and her job and all the tribulations it brought.
Now, three weeks later, they would finally be meeting again, and after hours and hours of surgery and stress, not that those never overlapped, those few hours she'd spend with him would make up for it.
"Few hours doing what, exactly?" Annabeth smiled, as Percy's voice resonated through her head, his crooked smile making home in her mind.
She wouldn't admit to herself, but she was completely and irrevocably in love with him.
"What's it been, a few weeks?" Piper asked, after she'd finally calmed down and gathered herself.
"Hmm," Annabeth said, "Speaking of, I should really be going now. He'll be here any minute."
Piper smiled again, that same coy expression on her face, and Annabeth whacked her as she got up from the sofa. "You're not going to change?" she yelled, as Annabeth headed towards the door.
"I won't need to," she quipped as the door closed behind her.
Annabeth laughed softly as she heard the thud of a pillow against the door.
…
Where are you?
She typed, sighing as she felt a few drops of rain on her head.
Percy was never this late. And he'd never not replied to her texts before.
She heard the ring of her phone and her hands fumbled as her fingers swiped at the screen to accept the call.
"Percy?"
"Annabeth!" She jerked away as his voice boomed across the receiver. Annabeth glared at a passerby as she hurriedly walked over to a corner on the street, ignoring the now constant slew of rain over her.
"Percy?"
"Annabeth," his voice came through again, a note of urgency in it. "Annabeth, I'm so sorry I don't think I can make it. My flight's been redirected to Chicago, and I don't think I'll be on time for the date."
Annabeth felt her heart sinking, as she mustered up the voice to answer back. "You're already late!" she yelled back, and smiled sadly as she heard Percy laugh through the phone.
"I'll make it up to you!" he yelled. "I'm sorry, I have to go now!"
"It's okay!" she said, but the call had already ended. Annabeth looked at the phone screen, willing his name back. She couldn't help it, but she felt small pinpricks of tears at the back of her eyes.
She'd been looking forward to seeing him again.
"Annabeth!" she heard someone yell her name. Annabeth looked up to see Piper in a small Bentley, Jason by her side, both of them peering at her, through the rain, "What's wrong?"
"Percy couldn't make it." she replied, as she walked over to them. "Drop me home?"
"You never have to ask." Piper said gently, as Jason smiled warmly back at her, tipping his cap in greeting.
Annabeth smiled, her throat clogged, as she got into the back of his car.
Even the rain didn't seem to appease her today.
...
II
...
"So, its like a ball, but for doctors?" Percy quipped, one eyebrow raised, and Annabeth shoved him, laughing as he feigned injury.
"It's not a ball," she argued.
"And yet, you're still going?"
Annabeth chuckled incredulously, as the couple walked hand in hand across the streets of New York. Percy had picked her up to get doughnuts, and she'd gotten the plain glazed, while he'd settled for blueberry. Apparently, her choice was extremely basic, but Percy had sneaked in a few bites from her nonetheless.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowed together.
"You know that fairytale that little children like to hear before going to bed?"
Annabeth looked back blankly.
"There's a movie too."
"What-"
"The one where the girl goes to a ball and there's a prince-"
"Cinderella?" she offered and Percy snapped his fingers, elated.
"That's the one!" he exclaimed and Annabeth laughed.
"This is absolutely not a Cinderella story," she argued back, shaking her head in exasperation. Around them, people sped across trying to reach their destination in the shortest amount of time possible. It was like a race against time, but Annabeth had by now, accepted that they'd always be on the losing side.
"Of course it is! There's a ball, and there's a prince, that's me," Percy pointed to him in all seriousness. "There's you-"
"This is ridiculous. You're ridiculous." She shook her head again and Percy put his head back as he laughed, letting go of Annabeth's hand and putting it across her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.
"You know I'm right."
"Absolutely not."
He made a face, and Annabeth poked him on his side, while he squirmed away. The couple walked hand in hand and they slowed down as they neared Annabeth's apartment, a small cosy set-up in a three story brownstone.
"You're sure you're coming?" she asked worriedly, and Percy turned around, taking her face in his hands.
"There'll be no prince without his Cinderella now, would it?" he said in mock seriousness, and Annabeth chuckled, shoving him gently.
She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist, while he reciprocated, enveloping her in his warmth. Annabeth closed her eyes, enjoying a moment away from the chaos of New York City.
"I'm just saying, you don't have to come."
"But I will," she heard Percy say and sighed in content. "I promise."
October had arrived and in consequence, the leaves had started falling. New York changed colour, Annabeth had observed, unlike San Francisco, which seemed never changing. No, in New York, there was always something to be seen, and felt.
Right now, it seemed orange.
"I have to go," she muttered.
"Don't."
Annabeth smiled, then raised her face to look into his eyes. Percy bent forward, kissing her softly.
"Six pm. Sharp." she said sternly as she stepped away from him, and towards the door.
"Yes ma'am."
…
Three hours later, Annabeth walked towards her mirror, checking her reflection in it for the umpteenth time.
She was wearing a light blue dress that hugged her waist and went flowing down to her ankles. Her hair had been let down for once, and her eyelashes had been curled and painted as per Piper's instructions.
She didn't look like herself.
Annabeth fussed over her earrings, smoothing her hair down, as she debated upon tying it up in a bun just for the sake of it.
Who'd care?
Percy would, she thought to herself, then realising he actually wouldn't. Annabeth smiled, as she thought about him, his ever-ready tongue that had got him into more trouble than he could account for, his eyes which seemed to understand everything and everyone in the world, and his heart, that had made room for her in the same way hers had done for him.
Sunlight flickered in through the window in her bedroom, as Annabeth paced to and fro, waiting for Percy's call.
She'd called him twice, and he'd disconnected every time, and Annabeth was slowly getting worried.
Her phone pinged, and she unlocked it, scanning through Percy's new message.
I'm sorry
'What?', she thought to herself, and called Percy again.
This time, he picked up.
"What the hell, Percy?" she barked into the phone, sensing Percy wincing on the other end.
"Someone I know got into an accident," he explained hurriedly, but Annabeth snapped.
"What in the world are you talking about? What accident?"
"Uhh.." Percy stammered, "car accident. It's bad, and I'm so sorry -"
"Cut it out, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth sighed. "Do I need to go to the hospital? How bad is it, do I-"
"No, no," Percy denied, and Annabeth frowned as static came through the other end. "You don't need to do that. You just go to the party. You don't need to come, it's fine. It's okay."
"Percy - "
"I'm so sorry, Annabeth. I know I promised."
Annabeth bit her lip, stopping it from trembling. She ran her hands through her hair, messing up her little hairdo, as she resigned herself to the bed.
"It's fine," she said, more to convince herself. "It's okay."
"I'll make it up to you."
Annabeth nodded, feeling like a jerk for feeling like this, as static came though the call, and it disconnected. She blinked away rapid tears, not wanting to ruin her makeup.
She hadn't wanted to go to this party alone, but she'd make do.
Annabeth sighed, letting her hands fall down to her sides, composing herself for the upcoming slew of discomfort.
Cinderella would have to go alone, she quipped to herself, smiling sadly.
...
III
...
They'd fallen into an easy schedule after that. On the days he'd be in New York City, he'd come to pick up Annabeth at the hospital at the end of her shifts. He'd become popular among the nurses, having won them over by his quick wit and charm. Around the hospital, he'd started being known as Doctor Chase's new guy, something that Annabeth had secretly liked.
However, an incessant suspicion had settled itself in her head that something was up with him. With his untimely disappearances and excuses that didn't line up with each other, Annabeth had that feeling in the back of her mind that something was wrong.
Piper and her had chalked it up to her paranoia.
Today had been one of her worser days. She had lost two of her patients in a span of three hours from each other, and each time she had had to listen to the daunting sound of the heart monitor flatlining.
Ten years as a cardiothoracic surgeon, and she could still never get herself accustomed to that sound.
All doctors unanimously agreed that the worst thing about losing a patient was telling their family. There was nothing worse than to see their expectant faces as they approached them, and then seeing the light leave their eyes. Annabeth had once been on the receiving end of it, and till date, she could never decide which evil was better.
Worst of all, their faces always seemed to stay with her.
"Miss Charlton's mother, please," she asked the receptionist, Margot, as she reached the waiting room.
Margot pointed to a seat at the extreme right corner at the back of the hall. Annabeth sucked in a big breath, steeling her nerves as she entered the room.
Her heart hammered painfully as she saw the woman get up and run to her expectantly.
"Ma'am," she began softly, but Annabeth could already see that the woman had understood.
"No-"
"Ma'am, the moment I opened up her heart-"
"My baby," the woman wailed, clutching at her heart, as she staggered towards the bench beside them.
Annabeth looked to the ground, her chest feeling tighter by the second. She didn't even think she knew the mother's name. Annabeth had always addressed her as Mrs. Charlton. Or Evelyn's mother.
Curse the Gods.
It was protocol that the doctor couldn't leave until they had informed the guardian about the happenings in the O.R.
After all, it was their ward the doctor had been operating on. It was their ward the doctor had killed. Annabeth had killed.
She sucked in a breath, blinking back tears as she approached Mrs. Charlton again. Annabeth had no right. No right to feel what she felt, when a mother in front of her had lost her baby.
Mrs Charlton howled in her grief.
"Ma'am," she said, and she stepped back as the woman turned on her, her eyes blazing, clouded with grief and anger, as she walked over to Annabeth and slapped her across the cheek.
Annabeth gasped, her hands flying towards her cheek, as she staggered away from the woman in front of her.
"You killed her," she snarled.
"I," Annabeth stammered. "I," she said, her voice breaking.
She tried to explain, but then turned and ran.
…
Outside, she took her phone out, ignoring the looks that she was receiving, as she dialled Percy's number, hoping to Zeus he'd pick up.
Still sobbing, she slipped into an empty on-call room, locking it shut as she sank to the floor, her legs trembling, the emotions of the day catching up to her.
As the call disconnected, she frantically dialled his number again.
"Hey, Annabeth," she heard his voice, and scrambled to put the receiver close to her ear. "I'm sorry, can I call you-"
"Percy," she sobbed, completely breaking apart, as she tried desperately to get herself under control. She'd killed that girl, and that was all she could think about.
"Annabeth?" Percy's voice turned frantic. "Annabeth? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where are you?"
"No, no, no," she shook her head. "I'm fine, I'm fine," she blubbered. Somebody was yelling behind Percy, yelling at someone, at him? Annabeth heaved in a breath, as she fumbled to reduce the call volume.
"Hey, hey," Percy said. "What's wrong? Where are you?" His voice seemed urgent, and the person behind him was still yelling, making things inside her head seem even more deafening.
The voice in her head was mocking her for trying to find comfort in her boyfriend when she had just left a life destroyed, not a few metres away from her.
Annabeth stifled a sob, as she answered. "I'm at the hospital. I just…I just, had a bad day."
"Fuck, Annabeth," Percy said, her voice growing more frantic by the minute.
Annabeth jerked away from the phone as a weird static came up, followed by Percy yelling that he'd call later.
"No, wait," Annabeth cried, as the phone disconnected, "Wait!"
She screamed into her hand, pulling at her hair in frustration as she flung the phone away from her.
Tears leaked out, as the day's events flashed across her mind. The first patient, who'd been a John Doe, then Evelyn, Evelyn's mom, and now….and now Percy.
Annabeth heaved out a sob, as she finally rested her head against the door, her body slumping in defeat. She closed her eyes, and let herself be lost to the world.
Days later, Percy appeared at her door, enveloping her in his arms. With him, came an excuse and the sound of Annabeth's heart breaking.
...
IV
...
"Can I see the trauma entry records for last month?" Annabeth asked the nurse behind the counter. She had a slight idea her name was Olivia, but Annabeth had never met her before other than by word of mouth from the other nurses.
"May I know why, Doctor Chase?" the nurse(Olivia?) questioned, as she got up from her chair, rummaging under her desk for a second, before she got out a slim file, filled with patient records.
"I just," Annabeth hesitated, "I just want to check something."
Olivia nodded, handing her the file, and Annabeth flipped through it, looking for the records under July 15. A few broken bones, a heart attack, and yes, a car accident. For a second, Annabeth's hopes were lifted, a cruel irony, until she saw that the time of entry had been at 11 pm in the night.
She had called Percy in the evening.
Annabeth felt her heart sinking as she read through the contents of the patient record, eyes flickering back to the time of entry.
11:58 pm. Annabeth had talked to him that evening at 6:59. She knew because she had checked.
"Everything okay, Doctor Chase?" the nurse questioned, and Annabeth hurriedly blinked back tears as she closed the file, returning it back to her.
"Yeah," she managed to say, "everything's fine." She turned to go, before pausing and briefly turning back. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name - "
"Olivia. Olivia Hansley."
Annabeth smiled, nodding in thanks, then turned to go.
…
There had been no flight redirected to Chicago either. There hadn't been a flight in the first place.
Annabeth sat down heavily on her sofa, running her hands through her hair. He had bailed on her. Percy had bailed on her.
Already, a lump had set in on her throat, as she clenched and unclenched her fingers, trying to distract herself.
She had been cheated on once by her ex. Annabeth wouldn't be surprised if Percy had done that to her too.
She stifled a sob, raising her head as her eyes fell on the mural that he had given to her. Again, the waves seemed iridescent compared to her bland grey walls, but this time, unlike all the other times when it had managed to calm her, Annabeth felt enraged.
He had lied to her so many times. Disappointed her, left her waiting while he screwed some other girl.
But still, it was Percy.
And until a few hours ago, Annabeth had felt that she had known him. Known him just like he had known her. She had fallen in love with the boy with the green eyes and crooked smile. Who had shown up when she'd needed him Who'd brought her back from the broken shell of a person that she had once been.
He at least deserved a chance. And Annabeth hoped to all the gods of Olympus that she was wrong. For once.
She got up from her sofa, dialling the ever-familiar number on her phone. She heard it ring once….twice…..thrice, then heard Percy's voice on the other end.
"Hello?"
"I want to meet up," she declared, her voice assuming the one she adopted in the operating room, when she meant business and nothing else.
"Annabeth, what?" Percy's voice came through the other end, and again, she could hear the familiar sound of static, that she had gotten used to on calls with Percy.
"I want to meet up," she repeated.
"Annabeth, I don't think I'll be able to -"
"Why?" Annabeth demanded, anger coursing through her veins. "What could you have possibly going on today, on a Saturday, that you won't be able to meet me for a few hours?"
"Annabeth, I'm sorry - "
"I'm so sick of you apologising," she interrupted. "What, you have some flight that's been redirected to the Philippines now, or somebody's dying again? Is it some other girlfriend that I don't know-"
"Annabeth, just hear me out," Percy's voice reverberated through the speaker, but Annabeth could hurl her phone at the very mural he'd given her.
"What, Percy? What can you explain? Because I have waited for you for so many months, overlooked all of your excuses," her voice broke, but she went on, "hoping…praying that you weren't like all the other guys who had left me hanging."
"Annabeth-"
"But you ... .you have completely exhausted me," she finished, sinking down on the floor, back against the wall, a stray tear escaping down her cheek. She gulped, breathing in deeply through her nose, but the lump was still there, hurting her throat.
"Just give me a chance to explain," his voice came through the speaker, and Annabeth shut her eyes, willing the past few hours to just go away.
"Explain then. Right now. Explain to me why you've been lying to me for the past few months," she said into the phone, voice clogged with desperation.
"I…..I can't," his voice came through again, and Annabeth closed her eyes, finally letting her tears flow.
Percy went on. "Not right now. Just… just one day. Give me one day, and I'll tell you everything. Please."
The sun was setting as the last few rays came pouring into the room, lighting up a few select tiles on the floor. Annabeth stifled a cry, as she snapped back.
"Don't fucking call me again, Percy."
...
+1
...
I'll come. Jason will drop me.
Annabeth saw Piper's text, her fingers flying over the keypad.
Don't. I'm fine. I'll come over tomorrow.
Annabeth watched as the familiar three dots appeared on the screen, indicating she was typing again. Annabeth sighed, then typed back.
It's 3 am already. I just need some time alone.
The dots disappeared. Then a message popped up.
I'll be there first thing tomorrow.
Annabeth smiled sadly, then switched off the phone. Her phone screen flashed as the clock turned to three, and she sighed.
Outside, the night had taken on its darkest, the wind blowing against the window shutters, making the room inside deafening. The night felt like her, had become her, and Annabeth could barely do anything without being reminded of the hurt in her chest.
Try as she may, she couldn't shake it. Hadn't ever even met with this hurt before.
Annabeth had fucked up. After Luke, she had vowed to neve give her heart away to anybody ever again. But then Percy Jackson had appeared, and got under her skin. And try as she may, she hadn't been able to stop it.
Annabeth buried her head in her pillow, letting her tears soak into the linen.
Outside the storm raged on, unrelenting, unyielding.
How Dickensian indeed.
Then, the bell rang. Annabeth jerked up from the sofa, immediately reaching for her phone. Was it Piper? No, Piper had a key. She'd walk right in.
Annabeth crept closer to the door, her thumb just inches away from dialling 911. She'd seen reports of people being robbed at gunpoint by late night visitors. She'd even treated them in the ER.
The bell rang again, and Annabeth hyperventilated, furiously typing in the digits, hands trembling, when a voice came through.
"Annabeth, it's me!" the voice yelled through, and shestilled, her heart in her throat. "It's Percy, don't call the police!"
Annabeth frowned, phone away, as she slammed open the door, wincing at the onslaught of the wind against her face. She glared at Percy, who was heavily leaning on the wall beside her, hand on his side.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, eyes flashing, her back against the harsh drops of rain.
"Just hear me out, Annabeth, please," Percy begged, and for the first time in a few weeks, she looked into his eyes, really looked and saw, to her surprise the desperation in his face, an emotion that she had never before seen on him.
"Are you going to lie to me again?" she bit back, and Percy tilted his head, his eyes boring into hers.
"Just the truth," he replied. "Nothing else."
She glared at him, and then let the door open wide. Percy got up, shuffling forward, before his legs buckled. Annabeth rushed forward and caught him before his knees reached the ground.
"The fuck," she muttered. It was then, her eyes scanned over his body, noticing the gaping wound on his side. It was why he was leaning against her wall, and looking at it now, the blood had seeped into the wall as well. On top of that, he was soaking wet too.
"I'm fine," Percy muttered, looking at her expression, but Annabeth looped his hand around her neck, as she hauled him up. Percy grunted, but complied as they both shuffled into the house, Annabeth kicking the door shut in the process.
Once inside, she settled him on her sofa, before rushing into the kitchen, taking out the rubbing alcohol and the first aid kit. On second thought, she got up a few select pain meds as well, before sprinting back towards him.
"How the hell did this happen?" she demanded, as she cut open his shirt. Annabeth cursed internally, as she touched his cold skin, knowing it was because he had been in the rain for so long.
"I…" Percy hesitated.
Annabeth raised an eyebrow challengingly, as she examined the wound. In the light, she could see a few bruises forming on his face as well, and not for the first time, she wondered what he had been up to.
"Bullet graze," he muttered, and Annabeth smarted back.
"What?" she cried out. "What the fuck do you mean by a bullet graze?"
"I…"
"No, don't speak," she commanded. "Wait until I've patched you up."
Under the yellow light of her tungsten bulbs, Annabeth poured the rubbing alcohol on his wound, ignoring his wince, as she pulled out a cauterised needle and thread from the first aid box.
"I'm going to stitch you up, okay?" she said, gently swatching a generous amount of numbing cream on his wound.
Annabeth worked on the stitches, her fingers flying over the broken patch of skin in record-breaking speed, trained from years and years of practice and experience.
She noted briefly how he barely winced, and as she finished up, wrapping a roll of gauze around his abdomen, Annabeth noticed Percy's eyes on her, silent through the entire ordeal.
She handed him a towel instead and a pair of shorts that he had left in her house last time he had been there, which now that she thought about it, had been over six months ago.
The familiar burst of anger ignited in her veins again, as she turned away from him, giving him the space to change. She wrapped up the gauze and needle in a cellophane plastic, all the time being acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room. Annabeth disappeared into the kitchen, sucking in a few heaving breaths before going back into the room again.
Percy was now standing beside the sofa, waiting for her.
"Sit," she commanded, and Percy opened his mouth, as if to argue, but she wouldn't hear of it. "You'll rip the stitches."
He nodded, facing her as she leaned opposite to him, biding him to start.
"I lied." He said, hsi voice barely above a whisper, his voice hoarse as if he had been yelling for a long time.
Annabeth said nothing.
"I lied about my job. About what I do," he admitted. "I am not an international aid worker, or whatever the fuck I told you I was," he said, his eyes looking straight at hers.
"I work in the special forces," he ended, and Annabeth imperceptibly sucked in a breath. "I work for an organisation, named Olympus. They give me my missions, and I carry them out. They give me my orders, and I follow them."
Annabeth's eyes softened, and she dared to ask. "So, all the times you lied to me -"
"I was in Jakarta. Slovakia. Portugal. Venice," he finished. "While I'm working, I'm in multiple places at once. The only time I'm at one place is ... .is when I'm with you," Percy's voice broke, and he looked away.
Annabeth gulped, her mind running through all the scenarios where she'd sensed something wrong, where Percy had had to leave suddenly after some call in the middle of their date, the number of times he had not been able to meet her for something after being excited for the same for much longer than her. It was all falling in place for her.
"And," Annabeth paused. "And, what does this entail?"
Percy looked back at her. "I'm breaking enough protocols to tell you this anyway," he chuckled bitterly. "But, I….I have lied to you about everything I do. I have let you down, but," his voice broke, "I have never lied to you once about how I feel about you."
Annabeth felt a lump rising in her throat.
"When I met you," Percy said, his voice heavy, "you were this brilliant cardiothoracic surgeon I'd met in the ER, who'd looked at me once and deemed me too far gone for my own good. And I was. My life is full of people who I've killed in order to protect myself, who've died in my crossfire, and those who I've killed under orders."
Annabeth watched as a few tears streaked down his face, landing on his hands. She frowned, blinking back her own tears as they threatened to overcome her.
"I'm a murderer," he went on, and Annabeth winced. "I kill people for a living. But then you…you have shown me how different life could be from my own, and I've fallen in love with it. I've….I've fallen in love with you."
Percy looked up at her, and Annabeth gasped as their eyes met, both of them overcome with emotion. She had pushed this man to the edge, hoping he'd leave her, but he'd come back. He'd come back.
She stepped forward, hesitating, before Percy gently caught her hands, pulling her over his lap. Annabeth yelped, before rushing to get up. "Your wound -"
"I'll be fine," Percy interrupted, one hand slinging around her waist, holding her in place.
Annabeth let her hand rest on his cheek, wiping away the tear trails on his face, as she felt a light shudder pass through his body.
"I can't lose you," he whispered, letting a few of his tears escape again.
"You won't," Annabeth replied, letting her forehead rest on his. "I'm sorry I didn't give you a chance-"
"No," Percy shook his head. "You…you have done everything right. I…" he shut his eyes tightly., shaking his head again. "I quit."
"What?" Annabeth jerked back. "What do you mean?"
"I quit today after I got back from my mission. I've been wanting to for so many years now, and after last night, I….I just couldn't afford to lose you to do something that was about destroying everything around me and losing everything I'd ever loved. I can't. I can't keep doing this job, leading this life anymore."
"Percy," Annabeth whispered, her voice heavy with tears.
"Annabeth," he said back, cracking a smile.
"I love you," Annabeth settled on saying. She smiled, looking into the eyes of the man she loved. Yes, she could say that now. She loved him.
Percy's eyes shone with tears, as he raised his hand and cupped her cheek, raising himself just barely above the sofa to capture her lips in his. And unlike all the kisses they had shared before, this one was full of fervent passion, as the both of them clung to each other, sharing a mutual sense of need, brushing away tears and letting the midnight rain in.
"I love you," Percy whispered back.
Outside, the storm eased, as the rain found in itself the grace to die down into a drizzle. And as the soft pattering of the rain lulled into a wind that soothed away the lashes of the day. Annabeth drew back, eyes furrowed in question.
"So, your bullet graze is a -"
"Crossfire. Stray bullet," Percy accepted, wincing as he shuffled to get into a more comfortable position.
Annabeth nodded, before declaring. "I'm making an executive decision that you need to sleep."
Percy chuckled, complying as she helped him lie down on her sofa, getting up to go, before he pulled her back close to his chest, snuggling together, their warmth blending together to create one.
"I'm sorry I got blood on your coach," Percy muttered into Annabeth's hair, resting his head over hers.
"Make it up to me later," she smiled back.
"I'll do a lot more than that tomorrow," he replied, an evident smirk in his voice, and Annabeth laughed.
Summary: A look into a moment Annabeth shared with Percy before he went missing. Set before the events in the Son of Neptune. Chronologically, a few months after the Olympian War. Fluff, and then the angst comes. Loosely based on the song 'Knocking on Heaven's Door ' by RAIGN
Author's Note: It's been more than a year since I've posted anything, mostly because I've been so swamped with schoolwork and assignments and everything that seems unfair and wrong to a student :D But, I finally found time again to write and decided to start with a Percabeth fic for a change. It's my first, and I hope you like it. Reviews would be an absolute treat, and I would very much appreciate them so much.
...
Mama take this badge from me
I can't use it anymore
It's getting dark, too dark to see
...
It hadn't started with love. No, it really hadn't, for Annabeth was sure that the first time she had seen Percy Jackson, she had absolutely loathed him.
She had despised him, not in the way she despised the folk of the Aphrodite cabin with their daily gimmick and mockery, not in the way she hated her stepmom for creating a rift between her and her dad, not even in the way she despised her own father for letting her leave. No, Annabeth despised Percy Jackson because even with all the odds against him, he still somehow had faith in the world. Faith that Annabeth had lost.
But that had changed. Percy Jackson had crept into her life, and cemented his place in it in a way no one had been able to do. She had learned to believe, not in the world which was set to kill her or snatch away from her, her happiness at any moment possible, but in the boy who had taught her to love, and to hope; the boy whose eyes had witnessed worse things than anybody she could think of and yet it was his green eyes that warmed up to a stranger first. It was his green eyes she sought out when they were in danger, and it was his green eyes that she had learnt to love.
Annabeth had fallen in love with Percy Jackson slowly, and then all at once.
And he had changed everything about her.
There was once a time when she didn't even see herself living beyond sixteen.
But then, here she was, four months into her sixteenth year of life, creeping to cabin three in the middle of the night, not because she had any work to do, but because she simply wanted to see her boyfriend.
Camp Half BLood seemed ethereal in the moonlight. In the distance, she could see the faint strawberry fields, dimly lit by the blinking glow of the fireflies. She had left the Athena Cabin behind her, with its stone walls and camaraderie, and could just faintly make out her way towards Cabin Three, mostly because it always seemed to have the scent of ocean water lingering around it.
Somehow, it always seemed to smell like Percy.
After years navigating around Camp Halfblood, this had become second nature.
Annabeth skipped over the creaky stone that entailed the steps toward the cabin door, bypassing the door, and instead, heading straight towards the window.
Percy always had his window open.
"Hey there, Seaweed Brain," she announced herself softly, as she pulled herself over the edge.
"What-", Percy exclaimed, startled, as he sat up on his bed, putting aside his shield. He watched as Annabeth stepped into his room, and then, almost automatically burst into a grin
"Hi there, Wise Girl."
"What are you doing?" Annabeth asked, her voice just above a whisper, lest the Harpies sense her in the wrong cabin.
"Oh, just the shield," Percy replied, offering Annabeth a hand, as he pulled her onto the bed. She gladly accepted the blanket he offered her, tucking her legs in as she settled herself beside Percy. Sometimes, Annabeth still couldn't believe they had reached the point in their relationship where she could be so comfortable around him like that. "
I know Tyson fixed it, but it seems different now."
"Is there anything broken?" Annabeth asked, instinctively looking over the shield for any changes.
"Not that you can see," Percy smiled sadly, "It just, it seems different from when he fixed it for me a few months ago."
Annabeth nodded wordlessly, as Percy shuffled closer to her, their shoulders now brushing, as they watched the waves crashing against the shore. It seemed angrier than usual, Annabeth noticed, more turbulent, more …..wild, and she exhaled as she seeked out Percy's hands, his fingers closing almost by habit over hers.
"Everything's changed," she said.
Percy squeezed her fingers, resting his head over hers. He towered over her, and yet in this position, it seemed just right. "Did Chiron tell you about the Hermes cabin?" he asked.
"Yeah," Annabeth replied, "It's nearly empty now. Apparently, Hermes did not, in fact, have so many kids."
Percy laughed, his voice resonating in the cabin, as the wind carried his voice towards the sea. "I remember, the first time in camp, there was so little space in the Hermes cabin, that I had to sleep on the cold floor, right under someone's bed. I swear, it might have been Travis's because only his socks could smell like something had died in it."
"Yeah, so like you to remember the smell of his socks." Annabeth laughed, memories of him being once shorter than her resurfacing. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back. "I remember, the first time I reached camp, Luke made me sleep on the bed, because I was too small, and people kept stepping over me." Annabeth laughed, then looked at Percy, "It was his bed, technically, because Hermes had claimed him the moment he had stepped foot in camp, but he still slept on the floor for an entire week before Athena claimed me."
Percy looked down at Annabeth, his thumb rubbing circles over the small junction between her index and middle finger, as if smoothing away the scars which had accumulated over the years of handling knives and blades.
She looked away, a sudden lump in her throat. Annabeth had accepted long ago that her Luke was gone, but perhaps under the weight of the world, she had never accepted the fact that she'd never be able to see him again.
"Everyone's gone," she said, inhaling sharply, as the waves crashed harder against the shore. Poseidon seemed clearly agitated today.
"Some of us are still here." Percy replied back, and Annabeth looked at him again, overcome with emotion, as her own muddled grey eyes gazed into his green ones, which were still warm, and still holding on.
Percy reached up, brushing away a single tear that Annabeth hadn't even realised had escaped.
"Since when does the Wise Girl have an existential crisis?" he joked weakly, and Annabeth laughed, a teary laugh as she opened her arms, Percy smiling warmly as he pulled her into him.
Annabeth breathed in deeply, absorbing the musky scent of sea-water and hot milk, a combination that she herself had never fathomed she'd adore.
"I love you." Percy said suddenly, and Annabeth's eyes snapped open, jerked out of her reverie as she pulled away slightly, her hands still around Percy.
"What, is it too early?" Percy stuttered, "I know, it just slipped out, I didn't -"
But Annabeth interrupted him, leaning forward to press her lips against his gently. Her eyes closed, she smiled as his hand raised up to cup her face, her thumb brushing against his cheek.
She rested her forehead against his, as they breathed in unison, against the noise of the waves pounding.
It hadn't started with love, but it had slowly grown into one. In a way, she had always known he would be the boy in the prophecy. He would never know, but she had kept her feelings aside, locked and kept away fearing for them if he ever happened to die. But last year, it had all changed, and her feelings, now front and centre, only revolved around one thing, to keep him alive.
Perhaps the Fates had listened to her at last. They had kept the boy in the prophecy alive, because she had begged so hard for him to not be taken away from her.
So in the blink of a moment, Annabeth thought to herself that perhaps this was meant to last. Even the Fates couldn't be so cruel to take this away from her. She was meant to love this boy and love him, she would.
Years later, she might scorn herself for being so blind and giddy in love but this was Percy and Annabeth loved him, and yet, as she opened her mouth, words very different from the ones she wanted to say came out.
"I can't lose you," she whispered instead, her hands coming up to rest against his cheek.
With bated breath she waited, hoping Percy would understand the truth between her words, and the emotion behind them.
"You won't," he said, at last, and in answer, capturing her lips in his, and pulling him towards her, even closer, as his arms interlocked around her waist. With Annabeth completely sitting on his lap, they fell back onto his bed, both of them lost to the world.
It seemed as if their kiss lasted for hours, but it was mere minutes before she heard the familiar screech of the Harpies outside the cabin.
Percy and Annabeth sprung apart, Annabeth scrambling up and above the bed, as she looked outside anxiously.
"I have to go," she whispered hurriedly, as Percy grumbled, her hand still trapped in his.
"Don't", he complained, as he pulled her towards him again. "Stay, please." He looked up towards her, his eyes wide and pleading and Annabeth laughed.
"I'll come back tomorrow. I promise, Seaweed Brain," she said, and she bent down to kiss him again.
Before he could deepen the kiss, Annabeth pushed him away, Percy falling back on his bed in mock annoyance, as she jumped out of his window, swiftly running down the path towards the Athena Cabin. She'd have a strict telling off, she knew that, but it would be worth it.
Percy loved her.
She smiled as she reached the familiar stone door, glaring at the owl above the door as it begrudgingly ushered her in.
It would be forever.
Annabeth tiptoed through the dormitory, making her way towards her room, locking her door swiftly behind her, and resting her back against the door, Percy's words in her head, and his voice.
She'd tell him tomorrow, how much she loved him. How long she had waited. She'd tell him she had loved him first.
Outside, the waves crashed relentlessly against the rocks, but Annabeth didn't mind.
…
Mama put my guns in the ground
I can't shoot them anymore
That cold black cloud is comin' down
Feels like I'm Knockin' on Heaven's Door
...
The next day, when she woke up from a sleep that was much better than anything she had nowadays, Marcus looked at her judgingly, knowing very well what she'd been up to, but Annabeth could care less. All she wanted to do was find Percy.
Instead, that morning, Chiron issued a hurricane alert, and Annabeth was strictly ordered into her room by Marcus lest she try to sneak away again. She looked outside her window, worried.
Hurricanes were under Poseidon's domain, and a hurricane in Camp Half Blood was never a good idea.
She sat on her bed, her head resting against a pillow, as her eyes lazily floated over one of Daedulus' designs, slightly tweaked by her to make it better.
The next thing she knew, Marcus was waking her up, because Chiron was looking for her urgently.
Annabeth bounded out of the room, as she made her way out of Athena's cabin.
The skies were an abnormal grey, and even from such a distance, she could hear the sounds of thunder rolling over the sea.
The last time Chiron had called for her, Percy had disappeared with the Princess Andromeda.
"Chiron, what's wrong?" Annabeth yelled urgently, as she reached the Big House, her heart pounding in her chest, acutely noticing the lack of a certain son of Poseidon.
"It's Percy," Chiron replied, shaking his head, but Annabeth was gone, sprinting towards the Poseidon Cabin.
But there was no Percy, and no note. There was no wind in Cabin Three, and nor was there the musky blue scent she had always associated it with.
"Percy! Percy!" Annabeth yelled, knowing deep down it was no use.
She snatched a drachma from the bottom of the water fountain, throwing it into the rainbow in the corner of the cabin.
"Oh Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, accept my offering," Annabeth cried, her voice shaking, her heart beating painfully in her chest. "Show me Percy."
But there was no Percy, and as the rainbow faded away, she yelled angrily, eyes burning against the tears that were threatening to flow.
Everything was perfect last night.
What the hell had happened?
And Annabeth, Annabeth hadn't even….she hadn't even told him she loved him back.
I mean, I know Athena is the goddess of wisdom and strategy, but she is really taking home the prize for being the stupidest on the pjo tv show.
Like, there's these three kids who are the only remaining hope of stopping like, World War III or something, but no....she'll allow a fire-breathing, demigod eating monster to enter HER shrine, made by one of HER children FOR HER to finish those three off, just because her pride has been hurt.
How puny is her pride that it is being wounded by three kids, yes kids, who are midgets(literally) in comparison to her power?
Also, she's really taking home the mother of the year award...so, definitely an overachiever there.
Luke and Annabeth's relationship closely mirrors that of an elder-sibling, younger-sibling relationship in an abusive household. Idk but I've been thinking about this a lot, so I need to put it out there to get it off my mind.
Their relationship is one siblings share in an abusive household. Where the elder one tries their absolute hardest to make sure that their sibling doesn't have to see or bear the burden of their family. That their sibling doesn't have to shoulder the burden that their older brother or sister has been carrying from the get-go.
The elder one tries their absolute freaking hardest, gets up in the morning even though for them, mornings seem the bleakest and nights the most treacherous. But they get through the day to make sure their sibling is safe. They shoulder the taunts, and insults, and tirades of their parents, take care of their breakdowns, and steps in as their therapist, even though on the inside, they are just done.
They are done with this nonsense, of having to be the bigger one in every shitty argument, of getting up each day and trying to understand what kind of day its gonna be, and then accepting their defeat because in this situation, triumph is a long time coming. They are done with their parents treating them as a punching bag. They are done stepping in every time their younger sibling fucks up and they have to step in to bear the brunt of their parent's wrath. They are done.
And so they leave. They leave their house when they come of age, and they go far far away, even though it kills them to leave their younger sibling behind, even though they know its wrong to flee because if they don't, they wouldn't be able to stop themselves from jumping off of a roof the next time they're on one.
They leave.
Leaving their little siblings behind.
And the younger ones just can't fathom what's up with them. I mean, of course the know, they've seen their older brothers and sisters struggling. But they just can't get over the betrayal, and the hurt, and the fact that they're the ones left behind. They're the ones who'd have to shoulder the burden now. There would be no one for them to turn to, or cry to, or share a dark joke with at the expense of their shitty parents and there would be no one left who'd be there to love them.
And I think that captures Luke and Annabeth's relationship so perfectly.
Something about the way Percy tries to convince Annabeth about how she should be the one to go on with the quest and not be the one to sit in the chair really hits me in the feels (ep5).
I mean, the fact alone that Percy is ready to lay down his life for someone he barely even knows is just so......tearjerking to say the least, but this is not what this post is about.
Its always portrayed pretty well in the books that Annabeth tries really really hard to live up to people's expectations of her. We see this especially clearly in the Battle of the Labyrinth, where Percy finds her sleep deprived, overwhelmed and drowning in her books and manuscripts.
Annabeth Chase is someone who is extremely self-aware of her abilities. What she might not be aware about is her self-worth.
We see this as she tries to be on her toes at every single waking moment. After all, it's her that people look up to for information, it's her who needs to cater to her mother's pride, it's her who has to be on their guard so that they don't get killed.
And in ep 5, we see that runaway morsel of insecurity when she's not ready to believe she's best for the job. We see that morsel which tries to convince her that she's not enough for the boys. Percy's already said that the reason she's here is not because of her smarts, but because she's too rigid to be his friend(something that he's regretted since but she doesn't know that). Her mother abandoned her the very first time Annabeth messed up. Her father and his family doesn't want anything to do with her. There must be a reason for that right?
I loved the way Percy's the only one who understands this, or at least, is beginning to understand it. I loved the way he tries to drill into her head that it's HER he chose, not because of the whole "you'll be betrayed by a friend thing", but because she's so incredible, and witty, and so fucking courageous. She's here because if it's anyone who's saving Olympus, it's her.
The entire team of writers did a fantastic job of elaborating on the character, but it definitely wouldn't have been possible without Rick Riordan at the center of it all.
And of course, Leah Sava Jeffries is a fabulous actor and she's really sold the fact that I can't imagine Annabeth without her anymore.
As somebody who's been reading the Percy Jackson books since third grade, I was extremely pleased with one minor change that they did in the show and that's Annabeth being the one to see the blue thread being cut by the Fates (episode 5).
It's established in the books that up until the point where Luke sacrifices himself, Percy fully thinks that it's his lifeline he saw being cut. And even after realizing that it was in fact Luke's, the newfound knowledge didn't emotionally wound him per se.
But with Annabeth, we might be able to see as the series progresses, her worry about the fact that the boy she potentially loves, the boy who was the first one to defend her heart and soul, the boy who has become her best friend, her soulmate; I want to see her fretting over the fact that that boy could have his life hanging on the balance at any moment (not that it never is...)
But then, her realizing that it's Luke's thread she saw all those years ago, Luke's lifeline, and the pain of losing someone who called her a sister, and was the first one to ever love her truly.
Idk, it feels much more poignant for Annabeth to see the blue thread cut, because of how much both the boys mean to her.
Luke and Annabeth have a beautiful relationship, despite it being heart-wrenching, and we saw the show delve more into that. I just hope that the writers keep in mind their relationship and the 'blue thread' as the show progresses.
Rules: Post the last line you wrote in your current WIP and tag as many people as there are words.
@seriouslysam8 tagged me, and unfortunately, the last line I wrote is 🌟spoilery🌟 you are getting the section before that
Ron kindly swallowed his food before asking, "When’s Malfoy’s?"
And since I'm supposed to tag 9 people since that is 9 words, @nuatthebeach @takearisk-ao3 @startanewdream @fizzyginfizz @ginnyw-potter @brightlybound @hinny-canons @petalstofish @displayheartcode and anyone else who wants to play!
Rules: Post the last line you wrote in your current WIP and tag as many people as there are words!
thanks for the tag, @corneliaavenue-ao3!
Harry and Ron were outside, walking in the forest that was just a little far from the Burrow.
12 (because I don't know many people to tag lol ) tags: @hinnypottter @hinnyfied @cncermoon @blondelunaa @booksforevermore13 @brightlybound @ginnyw-potter @sweeethinny @randomguyonline71 @thegirlwhowrites642 @thenicestthingiveseen @corneliastreet28
sorry if youve already been tagged and anyone else can join too!
Summary: When she's 25 and he's 26 and they're missing all the other's moments, they break apart, afraid of the consequence, afraid of what they'd be losing.
Now, 5 years later, she wants things to be different. And he wants them too. Angst/Fluff
Inspired by Taylor Swift's song, "Midnight Rain" from the Midnights album, as the title wisely said :D
...
My town was a wasteland
Full of cages, full of fences
Pageant queens and big pretenders
But for some, it was paradise
“Must you always drink this much?” Marlene muttered as she packed the bottles into a crate, frowning at a half-sleeping Ginny.
“Yeah,” the latter replied sarcastically, before getting up much hesitantly to help her team-mate, cum best-friend. “I never asked you to help out, you know,” Ginny continued snidely, and Marlene, as though appearing enraged, smacked her on the side of her arm.
“I’ll leave them, will I?”
“I never asked you to do that, either,” Ginny smirked. “And that,” she rubbed her arm tenderly, “was uncalled for.”
It was much justified,” Marlene replied curtly. “How a girl can spend her 30th birthday drinking her way to unconsciousness, I can never understand.”
Ginny stayed silent, and Marlene grabbed her arm, forcing her to look up at her.
“Really, Ginevra, all of us thought we’d go out yesterday, have some food, get our game on, the lot. And here I am today, cleaning up bottles because you spent the entire night drinking yourself to insanity.” Marlene shook her head in disappointment, then wrinkled her nose. “And what even is this?” she exclaimed, bringing a half-finished bottle up to her nose. “This can’t be normal whisky, can it?”
Ginny smirked, grabbing the bottle from her. “It’s not whisky. It’s vodka.”
“Vod-what?”
“Muggle alcohol. It works best.”
“For drowning out your miseries? Really, Ginny-”
Ginny shook her head, silencing Marlene. “Every time we go out, the news gets us on the front page. And by us, I mean me.” She got up, crate in hand. “ ‘Quidditch Star Ginny Weasley, now a professional drunkard.’”
She scoffed, then continued, “Last time we were out, the paper got a picture of me and that freaking bartender, and somehow made it seem as if I was seducing him with my exceptional ‘femme fatale’ skills.”
Marlene got up, then looked at Ginny. “And is that all?”
“Huh?”
“Is that all, Ginny?” Marlene said, with an accusing voice. “Are you really telling me that the tabloids are the reason you didn’t go out with us last night? The reason you haven’t left your house for anything other than quidditch for the last year?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No, I think you do. Because I know for a fact, that this,” Marlene gestured at the stray-away bottles in Ginny’s house, “has very little to do with your image in the news.”
Ginny looked away, then walked past Marlene to deposit the heavy crate beside the door. The lights in her house flickered, Ginny realising it had been too long since she had had anybody over to look at the muggle powered lights in her house.
“How long is it going to take for you to get over him?” Marlene pressed on, and Ginny looked over at her angrily.
“Don’t say another word.”
“Is it going to take you destroying yourself to get over a boy?”
“Get out, Marlene,” Ginny snapped.
Marlene looked at her straight in the eyes, then sighed, picking up the bag, and walking towards Ginny. Then, without saying a word, she picked up the crate of bottles, and Apparated.
Ginny gulped, then looked up at the flickering lights of the house.
Maybe it would.
Keep reading
…
My boy was a montage
A slow-motion, love potion
Jumping off things in the ocean
I broke his heart 'cause he was nice
FIVE YEARS AGO
It had been a wonderful match. In fact, one of the best in years. The Harpies had won by a fair number of points, and though the Seeker had done a marvelous job in catching the Snitch, it had been the Chasers who had stolen the show.
It had also been Ginny’s first time in the finals of the World Cup. The first one was always the one which kickstarted the player’s career, and she had definitely proved her mettle on the field there.
And though they had a lot of work to do, talking to the reporters, getting ready to hoist the cup, Ginny couldn’t wait to tell Harry.
She’d missed some of his floo messages in the last few days. Between the tension of the match, and Gwenog’s continuous badgering, she had completely forgotten to floo back.
But now, she wanted nothing more than to talk to him.
Ginny pulled off her gloves, passing them off to Marlene before she rushed off into the changing room.
She was breathless when she started the Floo Network, a huge smile on her face as she waited for Harry to show up. Nearly giddy with excitement, she beamed as Harry, or rather, his image showed up in front of her.
Even from the get-go, she knew something had gone wrong.
“We won!” she grinned in glee and Harry smiled back at her, his green eyes sparkling through the floo network.
“I knew you would,” he replied. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you.”
“That’s alright,” Ginny said. “You had a mission.”
Harry nodded, and Ginny held her breath, waiting for him to say something else.
Something had gone wrong.
“What’s…what's wrong, Harry?” Ginny asked, heart hammering in her chest. In mere minutes, the excitement had dulled down, replaced with nervous-ness.
“Nothing’s wrong, Ginny. I’m just extremely happy for you,” Harry smiled back at her, but even his smile looked strained.
“Don’t do that Harry, just tell me what’s wrong,” Ginny urged, wishing she could reach through the Floo and touch him.
Harry sighed, then looked back at her, his eyes betraying the pain he was in. “The mission,” he relented. “It went horribly wrong.”
Ginny’s heart stilled.
“Some of our team,” Harry’s voice wavered, “died in the cross-fire. It was unexpected, and we received the brunt of it.”
She could have lost him, Ginny realised.
She could have never seen him again.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine Gin,” Harry paused, and Ginny felt relief flood through her.
But it was the hesitation in his voice that told her what was to come. “Gin, there are the….funerals. I don’t think I’ll -”
“You won’t be able to come,” Ginny finished.
Her heart squeezed painfully, and she forcefully fought the lump in her throat.
“That’s okay,” she said. “That’s absolutely fine, Harry.” Ginny said breathlessly. “In fact, I’ll apparate back. The match is over. I can come back now.”
“No, Gin, please. You don’t have to do that. You’ve worked for this for seven years-”
“And I’ve done it, Harry -”
“No.” Harry said, finality in his tone. Ginny gulped, blinking back tears. She could hear her teammates' excited chatter get closer, and it seemed Harry could too.
“I should go,” Harry said. Ginny stayed silent, as he smiled at her one last time before vanishing.
Gwenog burst in, a triumphant look on her face. Behind her, Marlene and Wilda bounded in, stopping in their tracks as they saw Ginny’s expression.
“Your boy's coming?” Gwenog asked, and Ginny’s throat clogged.
“No. He isn’t.”
…
He was sunshine, I was midnight rain
He wanted it comfortable
I wanted that pain
He wanted a bride
I was making my own name
Chasing that fame
He stayed the same
All of me changed like midnight
He was waiting for her at the Apparatus Terminal when she opened her eyes. A big smile on his face, sparkling green eyes. Ginny burst into a smile, as she bounded over to him, jumping into his arms.
Harry laughed as the flowers in his hand fell on the ground, and Ginny kissed him. He’d missed her. But what was more, he’d regretted that he’d missed her match. Even more so because he knew how hard she had worked for it. Day in and day out on the Quidditch field, coming back home absolutely knackered, going back the next day again.
She didn’t deserve what had happened nearly a week ago.
When they let go of each other, Ginny kissed him, and Harry smiled against her lips, cherishing the feel of them.
He’d half thought he’d never feel them again.
“Are you okay?” Ginny asked, as they broke apart.
“I’m absolutely fine.” He didn’t like how his mission had taken over her game. He didn’t want that.
After that floo had ended, he’d sworn he’d never let that happen again.
“I’m so proud of you,” he said softly, looking into her brown eyes, as they looked back worriedly.
But then they transformed, and a smile replaced them.
Oh, how he loved that smile.
“Let’s go home.”
Ginny smiled, silent as she slipped her hand into his and they Apparated.
...
It was when he was opening the door to their house did Ginny ask about the mission.
Harry looked away then.
He had been dreading the conversation.
“It was a couple of rogue Death-Eaters. We found them hidden in the outskirts of a Muggle town,” he said. “I’m pretty sure they would have willingly handed themselves over, if -” Harry wavered, looking away from Ginny as she rubbed his forearm comfortingly. “If I hadn’t been there.”
Her eyebrows furrowed, and she cupped his neck, bringing her closer to him. “It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered, and Harry closed his eyes as she rested her forehead against his.
This. This was it. This was what he’d been craving since days. It was pathetic for him, but he had needed this reassurance. That this-this wasn’t his fault.
Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny, and then looked at her. “I’m so sorry I missed the final. I swear… it won’t ever happen again.”
“It is absolutely fine,” Ginny enunciated her words.
“It isn’t, but I’ll make sure it won’t ever happen again.”
It wouldn’t, and he’d made sure of that.
But it didn’t seem to get the response he was looking over. Now that they were in their house, the house that they had found together, Ginny pulled away from him, expecting an answer.
“What do you mean?”
“I asked Kingsley to reduce my workload. There won’t be as many missions as before, and he wasn’t very happy about it, I’m sure, but you have been there for every single important moment of mine, and I haven’t been in -”
“No, Harry,” Ginny interrupted. “You can’t possibly do that.”
Harry looked at her in confusion. He’d expected her to be elated, but it seemed the opposite had happened.
“This is your career that you’re talking about,” Ginny said. “You can’t possibly be throwing away all of that for me.”
“I’m not. Gin, I’m just going to go on fewer missions -”
“But missions are what you love. Fighting on the frontlines is what you chose to do,” Ginny cried.
Above them, the lights flickered, a momentary lapse in power.
“Gin, being with you is also what I chose. And I am happy with this. With you. Maybe in a few years, we can think about settling down. Merlin knows, that would be something a long time coming.”
Harry cupped Ginny’s face, trying to understand the conflicted look on her face.
“I swear, everything’s going to be alright.”
And as Ginny rested her head on his chest, Harry couldn’t help but wonder if what he had said was true.
…
It came like a postcard
Picture perfect, shiny family
Holiday, peppermint candy
But for him it's every day
TODAY'S TIME
Three days till Christmas.
Ginny knew, if she didn’t leave now, she wouldn’t ever find the courage to go home in time for it.
She looked up at the still flickering lights in her house. If her mum found out about the way she was living, she’d be horrified. Hell, Ginny herself seemed horrified herself most days.e
Half-finished bottles of whisky near the basin, her clothes lying all over the house, most of them unwashed, and food? She had resorted to eating mostly at pubs, or over at Marlene’s.
Normally, she’d be looking forward to Christmas. But, somehow, this year, she just couldn’t find the will to go to the Burrow and put up that mask of hers, the one where she was happier than most days.
He’d be there too.
Ginny closed her eyes, using her wand to create sparks of golden glitter over her, that disappeared before they fell over her.
She’d known things were going to fall apart the day he’d opted out of that mission. And Tomas had died.
She’d seen his face when Kingsley’s patronus had appeared in the room. Seen his expression.
Ginny gulped down the lump in her throat, taking in a few deep breaths, before clicking her tongue and getting up from the couch.
She couldn’t afford to do this.
She got up, waving her wand to get herself dressed, before picking up her rucksack and heading out the door.
An hour later, she had apparated right in front of the door. Even while outside, she could hear the chatter inside the house. Ron’s voice, her mum yelling. Someone laughing.
Even unconsciously, she felt a smile across her face.
He’d be there, but it’d be okay. It would.
Taking a breath, she muttered the spell Bill had set on the door and walked right in.
Almost instantly, an uproar started.
“Ginevra,” her mom cried out, followed by a chorus of Ginnys, and a lot of footsteps running towards her. The first one was her mum.
Ginny laughed as she was wrapped up in a hug by the shorter woman.
“You’re eleven days late,” her mum was yelling away, and for a second, Ginny just buried her nose in her shoulder, taking in the smell of home. After being promoted to Captain, and Gwenog leaving, a different arena of responsibilities had fallen on her shoulder, and Ginny had struggled throughout the past year, trying to keep the Holyhead Harpies up. She had succeeded, to an extent, but not without being under the scrutiny of the entire Wizarding World, and of course, herself.
But now, after nearly 17 months, she was home again.
The second her mum left her, she was brought into a hug by her Dad and Bill, and then the rest of her brothers followed, each of them ruffling her hair, though she gave Ron a much deserved glare as he went to do so.
“How’s the baby?” she asked Hermione, as Fleur kissed her cheek.
“Rough. She’s started kicking, but it’s not as bad as it had been a few days ago.”
“All babies are like that, my love," Fleur reassured. "I remember, Dominique nearly broke me by all her moving.”
The three women laughed, and Ginny’s eyes travelled among the crowd, as they slowly landed on him.
He was looking right at her.
It had been ages since she had seen those green eyes.
Ginny lowered her eyes in embarrassment, as she felt everybody slowly scurrying out of the room, The fire crackled in the distance as Ginny spared a smile.
“Hey, Harry,” she said softly.
“Hi there, Gin,” his voice ringed in her ears and Ginny couldn’t help but reel at the name he had called her, the name that seemed right only on his lips. His eyes were still as green as ever, but right now, in the soft light of the fireplace, they seemed golden.
His eyes travelled across her face, and Ginny shuffled uncomfortably as his eyebrows furrowed. “How’s everything going?”
“Good, good,” he said.
Ginny nodded. How long had it been since she’d seen him last? Two years? Three? All she remembered was that the last time they had met, she’d been so utterly devastated, that she had retreated to the closures of her house, and not come out for nearly a week, before Gwenog and Marlene dragged her out.
She didn’t even think she deserved to pine after him. Not when she had been the one to end things.
Irony, she’d fallen in love first, and she’d been the first one to let go.
But right now, him in front of her, she couldn’t help but think that only if they had tried harder, if she’d just held on longer, then this wouldn’t be it. This wouldn’t be the life she’d be leading. One submerged in loneliness, one where her job had become her one and only ultimatum in life.
She could have had a different life with him. A different world.
It was too late to think like that. And it seemed pretty pathetic on her part.
Ginny snapped out of her reverie as Harry called out her name.
“Yeah,” she answered breathlessly.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she repeated. “Completely fine.”
…
So I peered through a window
A deep portal, time travel
All the love we unravel
And the life I gave away
She couldn’t sleep. It was torture, because she was exhausted. She had nearly dozed off during dinner, before being sent up to bed by her mother. It took her back to her younger days. When sleep came easy.
It seemed the moment she landed on her bed, all her sleep vanished in an instant.
Frustrated, she slipped out of bed, carefully, without noise, climbing her way down the stairs. If she had been back at home, she would promptly take a sleep potion, and that would have made things easier. Here, not so much.
Ginny paused by the Christmas tree as she was making her way out the door. After Victoire and Dominique had learned how to walk, they’d resorted to tying the ornaments on the top portion of the tree, out of their reach and even after they had grown up, things had remained that way. Ginny smiled, reaching above her to touch a small toy horse that her dad had whittled for her when she'd been three.
Her younger self had been absolutely elated.
Thankfully, that feeling hadn't changed.
Ginny drew in a breath, before slowly creeping out of the house.
She stopped when she entered the backyard.
Harry.
Ginny gulped, slowly backing away, her steps quickeing as Harry turned his head.
“Ginny, hey.”
She cursed under her breath, then called out to him, the wind carrying her words to him. “I’m sorry, I was leaving-”
“You don’t have to do that.”
Ginny paused yet again, as Harry continued. “I was only leaving, so you can stay -”
“You don’t have to leave because of me,” Ginny stated. “I’ll join you, if that’s okay.”
Harry nodded, then stepped aside to make room for her beside the pumpkin patch, as Ginny walked towards him.
After the Burrow had gone up in Flames all those years ago, they'd worked hard to rebuild it. She couldn't say that it was better than before. But the view from the backyard was absolutely undeniable.
“Couldn’t sleep either, huh?” she asked as she reached the patio, a small smile on her face.
“When have I been able to?” Harry scoffed.
Ginny frowned, then, as if by habit, she asked. “How long has it been since you last slept?”
“Truthfully, um...last night. Ron and I went out for drinks, and I had a good too many, before I passed out. Woke up right before your mum called us for lunch.”
Ginny laughed, and felt Harry look at her. Under the moonlight, and even with the shadows falling on his face, his eyes shone like the light of day.
The silence between them was welcomed.
“How are things, really?” Harry asked her.
“Rough,” Ginny admitted. “Turns out, being a captain is not all that they tell you.”
“You’ve done a marvelous job though,” Harry replied. “The Harpies have had the most number of victories since the Magpies in the last decade.”
So, he had been keeping track of her. Ginny couldn’t help but smile at that.
“How’s things looking in the Ministry?”
“As they are,” Harry replied, as if by habit. But then, as if thinking over his answer twice, he continued. “Kingsley has things mostly under control, but they tend to get out of hand once or twice.”
Ginny nodded, looking out at the lake glistening in the moonlight. She wondered what to ask next. What do you ask someone who’s heart you had broken not even five years ago?
She cleared her throat, then turned towards Harry. “Anybody you’re, umm…with, nowadays?”
Harry turned to her, his arms hanging effortlessly on the railing. His eyes stood fixed on her face for a few seconds, before answering.
“Do you think so?”
“Uhm..” Ginny cleared her throat. “What do you mean?”
“It means no, Gin,” Harry shook his head. “It means I’m not dating anybody.”
“Oh.” Ginny nodded, then turned towards the railing again.
And yet again, they fell into a deafening silence, a silence different that others, the silence that seemed to suffocate her into the same hole she’d led herself to five years ago.
“Would we have worked out if Tomas hadn’t died?” Harry asked suddenly, his voice breaking through the mist and Ginny felt a chill travel through her spine.
She turned towards Harry, her eyes blazing. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean, Gin.”
“Are you really asking me that, Harry?”
“Yes,” his voice strained. “I am. Because I have thought about all the things that happened over and over in my head, and I still can’t believe what I did wrong.”
“You did nothing wrong, Harry,” Ginny cried out. How could he think he had done anything wrong when it was her that was the problem?
“Then, tell me, Gin. Speak to me. Tell me what happened that led us to being this way.”
“I don’t know Harry,” Ginny cried out. “You were ready to give up everything just for us, for me, and you think I could have taken it as it is?”
“What was I going to give up?”
“Really, Harry?” Ginny said, agitated. “Because Tomas died, I was able to see how it affected you. How you opting out of missions affected you. He died, and it seemed that you took it all on you.”
Harry shook his head, denying, but Ginny continued.
“You think I don’t know you Harry? The minute that Patronus appeared, you were completely crushed because somehow, you thought that if you had just gone on that mission, he would have lived.”
“That isn't fair. I chose that," Harry said, his voice brimming with something she couldn't recognize. "How many times had it been since we'd had one waking moment with each other? You think I didn't notice the way you hurt with all the times I left you standing with overtime missions and duties?"
"I would have rather you do that than sacrifice doing what you love to be with me."
"That isn't fair."
“It isn’t. My career, it would have led me to be away nine months out of twelve. Yours, the other three. Me sacrificing my career would have led me to destroy myself. You sacrificing it nearly destroyed you.” “And I know,” Ginny’s voice turned heavy, “that maybe if I had bargained with Gwenog, asked her to keep me out of a few matches, then maybe we could have worked something out, but I - “ her voice cracked. “I don’t know why I didn’t do that.”
“You shouldn’t have had to,” Harry said quietly. Ginny couldn't hear the anger within them anymore. He stepped closer to her and raised his hand, his thumb brushing off a stray tear. And just when he was preparing to leave, he paused, and then lightly pressed his lips on Ginny’s forehead.
Ginny closed her eyes, and when she opened them back again after a few minutes, he was gone.
…
He was sunshine, I was midnight rain
He wanted it comfortable
I wanted that pain
He wanted a bride
I was making my own name
Chasing that fame
He stayed the same
All of me changed like midnight
“Did he say when he’ll come back?” Teddy asked Ginny for the third time, and Ginny closed her eyes, her mind straying to the night before the last for what may have been the fiftieth time. Her heart clenched as she shook her head.
“No, Ted, he didn’t tell me anything.”
Teddy frowned, as his hair turned a grimmer shade of blue.
“But it’s Christmas Eve,” Teddy whined. Bill looked at Ginny sadly, and then whispered slightly.
“You want me to take him off your arms?” Bill whispered.
“That’s alright. I could do with the company anyway,” Ginny smiled.
With Victoire and Dominique off with their mother and Hermione, Teddy had been rendered horribly alone. Especially when he missed a certain young blonde.
“Then do you mind if I pop out with the guys for a-”
“Yeah, yeah,” Ginny waved him off and Bill pecked her cheek gently, ruffling Teddy’s hair before leaving.
Ginny watched as Teddy messed around with a few trinkets, probably from Zonko’s and then rested her head back on the couch. She shut her eyes, blocking out everything around her.
Harry had not been back since that night. He had floo-ed in, so that no one would worry, but everyone knew. Bill and Ron had been especially protective, making sure Ginny didn’t run off too somewhere.
The fire crackled, the heat from it not nearly enough to warm Ginny. She shivered, and as Teddy noticed, he got up, bringing over a blanket for Ginny.
“Thanks,” Ginny smiled as Teddy made herself comfortable beside her.
“I don’t like that the both of you are always so sad during Christmas,” Teddy muttered, and Ginny looked at him in surprise.
“What do you mean?”
“You and Harry,” Teddy motioned with his eyebrows, “you know, all that drama.”
Ginny raised an eyebrow, and Teddy huffed. “I’m not a child, you know.”
Somehow, that seemed funny to Ginny, the way he sounded so much like Harry. Her heart clenched as she thought about him, and she shuffled to get warmer.
“Are you still cold?” Teddy asked and Ginny shook her head.
“I’m good.”
Teddy nodded, sinking into deep thought, and Ginny watched as his hair changed into green and then turquoise before turning back into blue. She smiled sadly, her thoughts turning to his mother.
“He still loves you a lot,” Teddy stated suddenly. “More than a lot actually.”
And yet again, Ginny was rendered speechless. Teddy looked at Ginny, and then winced. “I don’t think I was supposed to say that.”
Ginny chuckled weakly, then closed her eyes, reeling from what he’d just said.
“Do you love him?”
Her eyes snapped back open.
“Huh?”
“Do you love him?” Teddy asked again.
“Yeah,” Ginny admitted, albeit breathlessly. “I do. Of course I do. More than I know.”
Teddy nodded, and then, with a triumphant smile on his face, muttered under his breath.
“I knew it.”
…
Rain, he wanted it comfortable
I wanted that pain
He wanted a bride
I was making my own name
Chasing that fame
He stayed the same
All of me changed
Like midnight rain.
She watched with bated breath, as the train that would take her to the Apparating Station arrived on the platform.
Not a lot had happened since Christmas Eve, but it seemed a long way away now, even though it had been only a week.
Christmas had not even started fully, that the Quidditch Authorities had sent an official letter to all Quidditch Captains and Managers to report to Ireland, or the official Management Quarters with their entire team roster, and details. Apparently, some of them had been using broom enhancement potions in secret to win matches, and now the Authority wanted to review everybody’s position in the roster.
It was bollocks, Ginny had thought personally. The fact that this had happened on Christmas too hadn’t helped matters, and she had chewed off the wizard who had met with her at the Department. It had only led to a stricter review of her team members, but to no avail, as it returned absolutely spotless.
And very well so too. Her team was as good as they came, she had thought angrily.
Now that she was back in London, all she had to do was get on the train and reach the Apparating Station so that she could get back home and sleep.
Merlin knows, she needed that.
As she got up on the train, Ginny thought back to her conversation with Teddy. How a conversation with a teenager wanted to make her try things again, she had no idea, but for a moment there, she had wanted to.
And perhaps, she would have too, when Harry got back. But, that clearly hadn’t happened, and now as she rested her head on her seat bench, opposite to a sleeping Muggle lady, she let herself think what hurt her to the core.
Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.
Ginny closed her eyes, letting the train lull her into a sleep.
…
It hadn’t even been half an hour when the train screeched to a stop. Ginny jerked awake, wiping at some stray drool at the corner of her mouth. She smiled briefly at the lady opposite to her, before she hurried out of the train.
It was when she stepped on the platform that she allowed herself to look at her overly-familiar surroundings. After spending nearly her entire life in London, she had grown to become accustomed to it, and now, as her eyes scanned over the crowd filled with Muggles and Wizards, her eyes landed over a pair that were too familiar to be true.
Ginny blinked, then looked away to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.
But no, there was no denying it.
It was him.
“Harry,” she said breathlessly, as they both started walking towards each other at the same time.
“Hey, Gin,” he smiled, and Ginny chuckled in surprise.
“Were you waiting for me?”
His eyes told her whatever she wanted to know, so she nodded, avoiding his eyes.
“Uhmm…my house, we can just apparate there from here,” she said, as Harry nodded. “We can go there and talk.”
Ginny felt her heart hammering against her chest, as she motioned him towards the Apartment Compartment, which was basically an Old London telephone booth now.
Without saying a word, Ginny gripped his sleeve, as they both Apparated right in front of their house.
“Come on then,” she said, as she tapped her wand three times against the door to open it.
Harry followed her wordless, and it was not before the door had closed behind them did Ginny utter a word.
“The house is messy, but don’t mind it,” she stated blankly. Then, after mulling it over her head, she hesitantly started, “What do you want to talk about?”
Harry looked straight at her as he started speaking. “Teddy told me,” he stated.
Ginny swallowed, and then looked away from him, afraid to glance into his eyes. Her heart hammered painfully in her chest.
“I thought it would only be right if it was me who told you what my nosy grandson did.”
Ginny chuckled drily, and then looked at Harry, her eyes glistening with tears.
“Harry,” she warned.
“What, Ginny?” he said, as he took a step closer to her. “Am I supposed to deny what Ted told you? Because I can’t do that. Not when every word he said was true.”
“Harry,” Ginny’s voice broke, as Harry stepped even closer. But even with her denial of what was happening at the moment, she couldn’t step back.
“I love you, Gin,” Harry said softly. “Merlin knows, I have loved you since that day in the Common Room, even before that and I don’t think that there is any way or any thing in this world that would stop me from doing so.”
“Harry -”
“No, hear me out, Gin. Please,” Harry begged. “We know all too well that every word you said that night was true, but somehow, I can’t quite comprehend it. Let’s try this, Gin. Let’s try this one more time, because I don’t think I could settle with the world if we didn’t try again.”
Ginny looked up at him, the gap between them becoming increasingly smaller as she stepped closer. Her fingers wrapped around his, as she closed her eyes. She’d spent five years thinking and thinking and thinking yet again about all of this. And she’d decided, that back then, when they had been younger and the world had seemed a bit more conquerable, they had not known what they probably knew all too well now.
That they couldn’t live without each other.
That Ginny couldn’t live without Harry.
“If you don’t want this Gin, tell me now, and I swear to Merlin, I’ll never bring this up again -”
“No,” Ginny said, her voice strong. She cracked a teary smile, and then let her fingers intertwine with his. “I want this, Harry. I want it too.”
She drew in a breath, and then repeated her thoughts, loud and clear. “This time, it’s just going to be you and me against the world Potter. Just us. And nobody else.”
Her voice wobbled, as her eyes filled with tears. She didn't think she'd survive if she lost this man again, and though she was stepping into hellfire at the moment, she hoped it would be worth it.
And as Harry looked at her with those clear green eyes, as he brought her face closer and captured her lips in a kiss, she let herself be drowned in that bliss she'd denied herself for so many years. And after years of being apart, those lips felt like home.
Just them against the world.
And as they pulled apart, and Ginny looked into the eyes of the man she had loved and missed for so long, a smile broke on her face, a bright smile; a smile that she herself had missed for so long.
“Remind me to thank Teddy for this,” she chuckled, and Harry joined her, leaning their foreheads against each other, his arms around her waist, hers around his.
Summary: “Don’t say it,” she cried. “Wait. Please.” She looked at him, her tears straining to fall. “Say it when it feels real.” A month after the war, when the lines seem blurred, Ginny realises that they are the only thing that mattered.
Trigger warning for mentions of trauma after the war
Read on AO3 or Fanfiction.
...
“I love you. Real or not Real?”
“Real.”
...
She had a hard time these days, trying to figure out what’s real.
Trying to figure out what’s not.
Today, for example, she was trying to drown out the cries. Somebody in the village had lost their son. Someone had lost both son and husband. And yet somebody else had lost their life and everything they held dear to them.
She’d go back home to more crying. Today, instead of her mum crying over Fred, she’d be crying over George, who had been missing for over a week. No one ever said it out loud, but everyone had started suspecting the worst. And everyone was hoping for everything but.
The rest of her brothers were rarely at home. Percy was out looking for George, coming home late at night, disappearing without dinner. She’d seen Bill and Charlie last at Fred’s funeral. Ron was no different. Her dad on the other hand, had made Hogwarts his home, coming back to the Burrow in the early hours of the morning after going without food or even water for most of the day.
She, well, she was at the village now because they were out of whatever food they had left.
After Fred’s funeral, Ginny felt that her mum had given up on whatever strength she had had left inside of her. Like she had started accepting something that threatened to tear her apart.
The only difference between her mum and her was the fact that Ginny didn’t think about it. Because if she thought about it, then that hollow feeling in her heart would seem to cave in around her, and right now, her mum couldn’t afford that.
She couldn’t afford that.
That’s why she had stopped. Her actions, which had been a week before, cries for help, had become instead what seemed to help at the moment.
That’s why when she returned to the Burrow, weighed down by whatever supplies she could find, and heard his voice, she didn’t cry out. She didn’t drop her bags and run to him, like she’d thought she would. Instead, she simply looked at him, simply took in the fact that he was alive and in front of her.
Even being able to think that seemed like a blessing these days.
And then she saw her Dad. Like a jolt in her reverie. His leg bandaged up, blood stains on his torn trousers. Her eyes went up to Harry, who had simply been looking at her, without a sound, a word.
“What happened to him?”
“Boulder crushed his leg. Probably broken by one of the giants.”
“And I suppose my dad’s leg was the lucky giveaway,” she snapped. It came out harsher than she’d meant for it to sound, but she wasn’t in the mood for jokes. Already, she could feel that panic bubbling in her throat. Knowing fully well that if it wasn’t her dad’s leg, it could essentially have been him.
And if her dad died, then….then she couldn’t even begin to start thinking about it.
Harry remained silent, and almost immediately, Ginny regretted her words. She had spoken without tact, her months of frustration struggling to be let out. Mostly, she couldn’t believe that the first time they were talking to each other, really talking to each other, it was like this.
“I should go,” Harry muttered, shuffling backward without an answer. Ginny didn’t think she could give him one.
And before she could find in herself the courage to stop him, he had already disappeared into thin air.
Ginny sighed, and then glared at the pain-riddled face of her father.
…
She remembered the last time she’d seen him. The day it had ended. She remembered his haggard face, his tear-laden eyes as she had pulled him into her arms. They had both broken in front of each other that day. Neither had been able to comfort the other.
Beside her, she heard her dad slowly getting up from the couch. Ginny turned and then gently pushed him back.
“Ginny dear, it was my fault,” her dad wheezed out, and her eyes flicked back to him, all hopes of containing her anger lost to the world.
“I never said anything about anyone’s fault,” she gritted out. “Just happy to remind you that you have a crying wife at home, who’s passed out now upstairs after crying herself to sleep. Without having anything to eat. Because apparently, eating something would be absolutely abominable to the thought of my dead brother.”
Her father winced, and Ginny blinked back tears, furious at herself for letting those words out of her mouth. Already, the pain at the back of her throat was back, and her gaze shifted from her father’s eyes to the floor, where it remained fixed.
“Darling, I get that you're angry-”
“I’m not angry, Dad. I’m just…I’m tired,” she sighed, her voice slightly shaking from exhaustion. “I’m trying to keep mum together, but I’m not the one she needs right now. She needs you, and you’re never at home, while I’m here all the time when I don’t even want to be. And now, you’ve gone and broken your leg, and I am struggling here Dad, because I don’t know what to do,” she said, and she couldn’t help her throat from clogging in the end, her words coming out heavy and warped.
“Oh, Ginny, I’m terribly sorry. I’m so sorry -”
“Don’t,” she cried, “don’t be sorry, Dad. You have nothing to be sorry about. Just…just take care of Mum, and stay. Because I don’t want to anymore.”
She turned away, blinked back her tears, trying her hardest to keep the sobs at bay. When she finally looked back at him, she met with his concerned eyes. They did nothing but remind her of the words she had said to him.
“You know,” her father began, “he came here to see you. To see how you were doing.”
“That’s evident,” she snapped, her anger flaring up. “He barely said two words to me.”
“That’s because he’s-”
“I know Dad. I know. Just,” she sighed. “I’ll help you up.”
And when she finally let her head touch her pillow, completely prepared to let a few of her tears out, Ginny realised that as hard as she tried, the tears just….wouldn’t come.
They just wouldn’t.
The next day, she made sure the house was in order, kissed her mum goodbye, and left for Hogwarts.
….
Like history repeating itself, they stood, once again, in the middle of the dust and rubble. Where the dust settled in a quiet haze over all the pain underneath.
“There wasn’t much to do at the Burrow,” she said. She couldn’t bring herself to call it a home. It didn’t feel like one anymore. It hadn’t for a year now.
Harry remained silent. Weirdly, Ginny felt a pang of annoyance at that. They’d not seen each other for weeks, no, he’d not let her see him for weeks, hadn’t let her talk to him, touch him, fucking kiss him, and he didn’t have a thing to say? While she could barely sleep at night without thinking of him and whether he was alive or dead, or whether he had finally given up and got done with it. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had the thought surface once in a while herself. Ginny had just gotten better at suppressing it every time it came up. But right now, after weeks of not seeing each other, all he could do was remain silent?
“Are you okay?” And it was the first time in a while she had heard any feeling in his voice whatsoever.
Ginny fixed her gaze at him, unflinchingly, then asked, “Are you?”
He looked at her then, fully looked at her, the way Ginny had been wanting him to look at her since the day she’d seen him again over a month ago. But it wasn’t how she had imagined it to be. For his eyes were not the same green that they were when she’d last let herself look into them. No, these eyes held pain that mirrored hers. Somehow, she felt she’d seen them again for the first time.
Slowly, he shook his head. And then, lowered his gaze. As if admitting to a fault was worse than enduring it.
“Then why don’t you say it?” she whispered, her words only for him and him alone.
He didn’t look up, but Ginny knew.
…
She had a hard time these days, trying to figure out what’s real.
Trying to figure out what’s not.
That’s why, when she heard that they had uncovered the bodies of two fifth years from the rubble, her heart clenched in a way that she felt she couldn't breathe.
“Who were they?” she asked Oliver Wood, who’d brought in the news.
“Matilde Fairfeather and Sean Curnell. They’d snuck in, I suppose. Their bodies….” he trailed off, “they aren’t in very good shape. Werewolves.”
Just the thought of it made her want to empty her guts out. This, this wasn’t fair. They were just children.
So were we, she thought. Once.
Somehow, she felt that their deaths were on her. That they were her fault. Because she had been in charge of taking care of them for the past year, because she had been the one to make sure that they had got back home safe, just for them to return back and do the one thing she had told them not to do.
She remembered Matilde. Her long blonde hair and dimpled chin. Sean and her were always joined to the hip.
Ginny stood up to leave when Oliver stopped her.
“Ginny,” he called, then hesitated. “It-it was Harry who found them. He….he, well, I don’t think he is in a very good shape now.”
“Where is he?”
“Last, I saw him, he was in the Common Room…”
Ginny didn't hesitate. She ran, the shortcuts practically burnt to her memory now, with the amount of times she had taken them to save herself and everyone else from the Carrows.
When she reached the common room, Ginny paused, debating whether she should go up, the voice inside of her doubting her intentions. Whether they were valid. Whether she should.
Before she could stop though, she began climbing the stairs to the boys dormitory. While the girls’ had been completely destroyed in the rubble, the boys’ had still somehow stayed intact.
She stopped when she saw his figure. His back towards her, hands clenched around the wood of the bed. Ginny stepped forward, then hesitated when she saw a tremor pass through him.
“Harry,” she whispered. “Harry, it’s-it’s me.”
She didn’t know how that would help. How her being there would help. She hadn’t been able to help her mother, what help would she be to him?
“Gin-” his voice broke, and Ginny felt a tear slipping out of her own eye. “Gin, I can’t breathe.”
His back tensed when she touched him, and she snatched it away, scared to make it worse.
“Harry,” she whispered, her voice quivering. She had no idea what to do. She had not one fucking idea whether she should stay away from him, or touch him, or hug him, or fucking wipe his tears for him, because he hadn’t let her near him for weeks. He hadn’t let her touch him or wait one moment to speak to him, let alone let her comfort him or let her be comforted.
It had destroyed her.
“Harry,” she choked, “I don’t know what to do. I don’t-I-I’ve-I have no idea what to do Harry.”
“Gin,” his voice came out, begging. “I’m sorry,” he gasped.
He had nothing to be sorry for.
And then she was turning him around, forcing him to look into her eyes, as he struggled to catch his breath, while she struggled to keep him from tipping over the edge.
“Look at me,” she urged.
It was all she could do to hold herself together.
“Stay with me.”
His hands wrapped around her forearms and for a second, they were both holding each other steady but Ginny could feel his breathing become worse.
For a split second, she was frozen in time. Then she let his hands fall around her waist, as she gently caressed his face with her fingers and pushed herself on her tiptoes to kiss him.
It was all she could do to keep them from sinking.
It was all she could do to keep him afloat.
His lips were rough against hers, and she could taste the stinging taste of blood on them, but even amidst the pain, it was as if she was back in the Common Room again, kissing amongst hundreds but knowing it was just them. Even amidst the pain, it was magical.
And just as she felt him give in completely to the kiss, his arms tightening around her, she let go. Though his lips were the last thing she wanted to stay away from.
She hadn't realised she was crying. But Harry’s haggard breathing and his thumbs against her cheeks, wiping the tears away, brought her back from the dream she had let herself get immersed in.
Harry rested his head on her shoulder, and Ginny held him, burying her face in his shirt, letting the tears fall more freely now. But she waited, waited until his breathing slowed down.
“Is it better?” she choked out, when she could hear his gasps no longer.
“It is,” he replied, and this time, Ginny could see it was genuine.
But that didn’t change the pain they were in.
That didn’t change the words she wanted to say to him.
Ginny looked up at Harry, her throat burning from the weight of what she wanted to say to him. This time, she didn’t wait. She didn’t let that voice inside overcome her.
“I love you,” she breathed out, “I love you, Harry.”
There were few things that seemed real to her these days, and this was one of them. It was only right that he knew it too.
Harry looked at her then, stormy green eyes to her own burnt brown ones, and even after so many days apart, she clearly knew what he was feeling inside. What he would say next.
But Ginny didn’t want it that way.
“Don’t,” she rasped out. She could feel her throat choking again, her words getting stuck in her throat, but she wanted them out before they could suffocate her. “Don’t say it,” she cried. “Wait. Please.” She looked at him, her tears straining to fall. “Say it when it feels real.”
“It is real Gin,” he said, holding her tightly as if he was afraid to let go. “It is real to me.”
“Wait,” she said again, begging him to understand what she was trying to say through her eyes. He was the only one who could. He was the only one who looked at her that way.
Then he nodded, kissing her as if she was the only thing that mattered.
And as if momentarily, Ginny realised that in a way, they were the only thing that mattered.
And amongst the pain and the rubble, with his strong body pressed against hers, Ginny realised that she wanted this. This love. All of this love. With every fibre and bone in her body.
And she was never going to let go.
…
…
…
Months later, when they stand together, it’s him who looks at her.
The storm in his eyes was a gentler wind now, the green that had threatened to destroy anything and everything around him had turned back to the green that promised rebirth instead of destruction. Hers had remained that burning brown, but the raging fire had kindled into the warm ones by the coal.
She didn’t mind them that way.
With his hands entwined in hers, the wave that had threatened to drown them had peaked instead of swallowing them entirely.
Now he looked at her, smiling, and his hands brushed away the few stray hairs on her face, before tilting her chin to meet his gaze.
“I love you.”
And the whole world seemed to stop.
She had a hard time these days, trying to figure out what’s real.
Trying to figure out what’s not.
This, she figured, was as real as could be.
“I love you too.”
Months later, when they stand together, it’s green to brown.
