"After all, itâs only been four weeks since their long awaited return to London, and theyâve already been met with the gossips and smirks that Ginnyâs known there to be. From cozy dinners by the fire and sun-soaked swims near the sea to far-apart dinner plates watched by hawk-like servants and chaperoned dances watched by even more hawk-like mamas, itâs been as predictable as itâs been stifling.
But Ginny being titled Diamond of the Season⌠now thatâs something no one in the Ton expected."
Hinny Regency AU. On-going.
It is the thirst that wakes Harry in the middle of the night.
He takes care to not wake up Ron as he opens the door of the room â though it takes a lot to wake Ron so late in the night â, skips the steps in front of Mr and Mrs Weasleyâs room that always crack and he is on the first-floor landing, feeling rather glad about himself, when the door opens.
âGinny!â He calls, surprised, and she turns to him, her eyes alert. She places a finger in front of his mouth â her touch is gentle, and her skin is soft, he notices â, nudging with her head to inside the dark room. Harry nods, and then her hand falls â he feels rather dismayed by this â, closing the door as quiet as Harry did several steps above.
They tiptoe to the living room; her steps are even softer than his, like a cat, and Harry grew up trying not to alert the Dursleys of his existence.
âWhat are you doing up?â She mumbles, moving to the kitchen to light a lamp for them. Then Ginny pauses, looking concernedly at him. âNot⌠not a nightmare?â
Harry grimaces. âNo, I got thirsty.â She nods, seeming calmer. He sips the water. âWhat are you doing up?â
âShower,â she says, grinning now. Harry lifts his eyebrows.
âLate night shower?â
âWell, itâs a warm night,â Ginny says, and it suddenly comes to Harryâs mind the image of the water pouring like rain, and Ginny dancing beneath it; it should be only funny, charming even, but then he canât help but wonder how her clothes would cling andâ âDo you wanna see it?â
Harry blinks. âWhat?â
âThereâs a meteor shower tonight.â
âOh.â The images implode on his mind, but it doesnât help with his racing heart. What a strange idea⌠âThat seems nice.â
âYeah.â She gestures him outside, opening the door of the kitchen to the backyard. âDo you wanna come?â
For a moment, Harry hesitates, thinking about all the restrictions around the Burrow that he promised he would obey. But then Ginnyâs eyes are sparkling, inviting, and he doubts they will go much further, so he finds himself nodding, not wanting to stay behind.
The night is warm as Ginny mentioned, with a light breeze; it gets darker as they get far from the Burrow, but Ginny seems to know her way to the other side of the orchard, and she guides him to an open space in the middle of the orchard, sitting unworriedly over the grass. Harry follows her.
âI didnât know you were so interested in Astronomy,â he notes, and then a strange guilt floods him when he realizes all the things he doesnât know about Ginny.
âIâm not usually,â she admits. âBut I enjoy the Perseids, I always thoughtâŚâ But Ginny shakes her head, and under the light of the candle she holds, Harry sees a faint blush coming to her cheeks. Itâs rather cute.
âWhat?â He insists.
âItâs silly,â she says warningly. âBut the peak of the Perseids usually falls on my birthday, so I always thought it was like the universeâs gift for me.â
âThatâs not silly.â
âIt is,â Ginny says, unfazed. âThe universe does not care for when someone was born.â
Born as the seventh month diesâ
âWhat?â When Harry looks at her, he sees Ginny is staring at him, a concerned frow between her eyebrows. âYou are worried with something.â
âHow do you know?â
âYou stop breathing when your mind is far away,â she points out. âHere, lay on the ground. Mum always say that touching the grass helps you discharge all your worries.â
âDoes it work?â He asks sceptically. In answer, Ginny lays her back on the ground, her gaze fixated on the night sky.
Harry doubts any grass in the world would have the power to fully relax him, but he follows her example, laying next to Ginny; so far from any light, the sky is overwhelmed with thousands of stars, bright shining dots that do not care at all, as Ginny said, to when he was born.
It is very refreshening, actually.
âYou know, except for Astronomy classes, I donât think Iâve ever looked at the night sky.â
âWell, you lived in Surrey,â she notices. âYou need an open space, far from the city, to appreciate it.â
âAnd my room didnât have any windows,â Harry says absently, rubbing his scar. âItâs beautiful.â
âYeah,â she agrees, but something in her voice, or in the silence that follows, makes Harry turns to Ginny; the frow is back on her forehead.
âNow you are worrying,â says Harry teasingly.
She breathes slowly. âWhat do you mean, no windows?â
He contains a grimace, turning his head to the sky again. âJust your typical house in Surrey,â he says nonchalantly. When Ginny doesnât answer him, he adds a carefree tone to his voice. âNot that you would get this view anywhere there. I donât think Iâve ever seen so many stars. Whatâs your favourite?â
âStar?â
âOr constellation.â
âIâI canât tell you.â
âHow can that be a secret?â
âBecause you are going to laugh!â
âI would never.â
âOh, you will.â Ginny sighs heavily. âIf you ever tell anyone, I will deny and hex you into oblivion.â She points North. âDraco.â
âYour favourite constellation is Draco?â And he canât help the laugh.
She nudges him in the ribs. âOh, shut up. I loved that constellation long before I met anyone called like that â I mean, what kind of parents name their kid as Draco?â
âMalfoys. Or Blacks, I donât know, they are all about naming their children like that.â Harry looks the sky, sadness creeping up, never truly gone. âSirius is not here tonight.â
She takes a few seconds to answer him. âNo, Canis Major wonât be seen until November. But, you know⌠he is out there. Just because we canât see it, it doesnât mean itâs gone. You will see him again.â
He doesnât think she is talking about the constellation anymore, but he canât deny itâs a nice feeling to know that days will pass, Earth will move and eventually the constellation will be visible again in the night sky, that he will see Sirius shining once againâ
And then he first sees it.
âWow!â He canât help but sit again, pointing to the sky. âDid youâthat lineââ
âItâs a shooting star,â she confirms, smiling, her head up. âItâs just beginning.â
She is right. It starts a little shy, but soon Harry loses the count of the number of white streaks he sees appearing from nothing and then disappearing just as suddenly, as if someone is just painting the sky with lines even as it turns brighter as it nears sunrise. Harry should feel numb by the sight of it after hours, but each new line feels as incredible as the first one he saw.
âYou know, Muggles say you can make a wish when you see a shooting star.â
âWhy?â
âI donât know. Superstition.â He feels a little embarrassed suddenly. âItâs not really magicââ
âWell, who knows?â Ginnyâs voice is warm. âHow does it work?â
âYou just see a shooting star, make a wish, and you can never tell someone.â
âOkay,â she says, almost singing. Harry looks at her; Ginny is squinting her eyes, concentrated, looking at the sky until she spots a shooting star. She closes her eyes, looking thoughtful and serene, and then it occurs to Harry that the sight of her face, under the pale light of sunrise, with the wind blowing her hair softly and a quiet smile on her lips, is as enticing as the hundreds of shooting stars he has contemplated so far.
When she opens her eyes, Harry turns away quickly, a new embarrassment flooding him.
âYour turn!â
It takes a while for him to understand what she is talking about, but he does watch the sky. When he sees the line crossing it, Harry closes his eyes, and then he realizes he doesnât know what he should ask. His mind feels strangely blank, except for that last sight of Ginny, her happy calm face; Harry wonders what she wished for.
He looks back at her, the question ready at his lips, though he knows he wonât ask, and she wouldnât tell him either.
Instead, he sighs, laying again on the ground â it is rather relaxing, actually, another thing that she was right about â, watching the first rays of sunlight in the horizon. He is so happy they happen to meet in the middle of the night, at that chance that he could share this meteor shower with Ginnyâhe hadnât even realized it was so near her birthdayâ
âCan I ask you something?â
She lays again, her hand brushing his softly before she crosses her hands over her chest. âSure.â
I've read all of your stories, and I'm genuinely in love. You're probably my favourite hinny author, and I can't wait to read more of your upcoming stories! Do you have any hinny fics recs? I've been looking around and I noticed I read most but I'm sure there are great ones hidden out there.
Thank you so much â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸đ
My biggest rec is actually joining the GTH's discord server and check out the fic rec channel. It has some amazing self recs and recs for hidden gems you may otherwise not talk about and see the discussions and what people liked about it. (Invite link: https://discord.gg/xeEvAX79ua )
I don't have any fics in mind right now but I recommend checking out @four2andnew, @nuatthebeach, @startanewdream and @turanga4
Some of them haven't been super active lately so you may have not come across them as easily but they write excellently!
when youâre a strong female character who went through hell and back, suffered unimaginable trauma as a child but despite that maintained a strong sense of self belief and had compassion for others, showed incredible courage & altruism in the face of adversity, risked your life to save everyone elseâs, but were sadly and unjustly left for dead by misogynistic writers in the last act of your respective stories
didnât expect to react so strongly to elâs death but my god that girl suffered her whole life went through hell and back for her friends and loved ones, saved the whole freaking world and then was rewarded withâŚ. Death??????? @netflix iâm under your bed
LITERALLY like itâs high key unfair?? why was the whole fandom so stressed about mediocre mildly funny white men aka steve dying when a girl whoâs been abused her whole life is not even given a second thought.
when the fever moves in such synchrony with the chill that you feel akin to an ice cream scoop on top of a chiliâs cookie skillet đ¤đ˝â¨đ¤đ˝