tampered | → come on skinny love just last the year

Entry tags:

harry potter - ginny weasley

→ come on skinny love just last the year

When; 31 July, late afternoon.
Rating; PG-13 for... idk swearing and thoughts of ~war.
Characters; Ginny Weasley [

hexuality] and whoever wanders in!
Summary; It's Harry Potter's birthday and his ex-girlfriend feels like visiting the Hall of the Missing to say hello.

Log;

[She's got too much time to think and that's what Ginny Weasley dislikes about being on holiday for a month. Not that she minds taking the time off, Merlin knows she needs it despite all her refusal to admit it, but she's felt rattled for weeks and she doesn't know how to settle, especially since her talk with Bucky. Flying has always been her solace but today, it isn't the sky she needs to feel closer to; today is for being a little more earthbound, a little more nostalgic.

Today is Harry's birthday. She can't think of how old he'd be because the City's mucked up her sense of time—had he stayed, he'd be... nineteen? Were they at home, he'd be eighteen and she'd be seventeen a few weeks later. The war would be over, they'd be at The Burrow, they'd be trying to fall back into some sense of normalcy with an empty seat at the table. Would they be together? Would she want to try so soon after?

The Hall of the Missing is right by her building so she walks there, not stopping until her footsteps echo and she's blinking the summer sun from her eyes in the sudden cool darkness. She finds the section of wall that holds the portraits from her world without difficulty; she's been there to look up at them so often that it's muscle memory by now, and her eyes seek out Harry's green ones. Next to him are everyone else she's said goodbye to over the years... Neville, there he is, his birthday was yesterday.

Ginny settles on the floor, knees drawn to her chest and arms looped around them. Next to her is little box of cupcakes she thought to bring along. Because why not? She hides a smile as she bites into one, licking the frosting from her lips.

Happy Birthday to her two favourite boys.]

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[ Stiles is mostly trying to jog the rest of the sickness out when he runs past her in the City. He doesn't have Scott with him, but that's only because Scott is a freaking werewolf and he doesn't really want to start cataloging their differences when he's already feeling like crap. She doesn't see him though and there's a moment where he sort of runs on the spot before shaking his head and pushing his way into the Hall after her. They haven't met in person after all, and he figures if they're going to hang out ( and they are going to hang out, he'll make sure of it ) that they should maybe fix that.

Of course by the time he finds her he realises this might be a ... moment and he turns but ends up kicking the wall and -. ] Ow, freaking -. [ Guiltily whipping his head around to see if she noticed him.

She ... did. ] Oops?

[Ginny hears someone in the Hall but it's a big place with thousands of portraits, it isn't anything unusual. But then she hears the sound of foot vs wall and a familiar voice and she turns, a hand resting against the floor as she glances over her shoulder.

And then, through a mouthful of cupcake,]

Stiles? [Chewing, hurriedly swallowing, grinning a bit.] That is you, isn't it? Wow, hi.

[ Busted.

He turns around slowly, a hand coming up to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck. But the smile he offers up is genuine. ] I saw you come in - not that I was stalking you I've just never been in here before and we've never met and - and now I know what this place is so I should totally go and leave you to your ... [ Cupcake. ] Um.

It's alright.

[She gets up, but not before setting the cupcake down on the floor, brushing off her hands and then offering one to shake.]

Nice to meet you, officially. [Ginny glances up to the portraits then back to Stiles, shaking her head.] I was just... It's Harry's birthday. Did you—er, want a cupcake?

[Ginny said she would come with Angela to the Hall and show her what Cinna looked like, but with her being sick, Angela knew better than to bother her. Even if she's well now, there's still a some time Angela wants to give her before barging into her routine.

So she goes to the Hall by herself. There's too many faces, too many corners to turn, halls to go down. There's no way she'll find this guy's portrait and try to make sense of all the things she still can't remember. But she does remember that silly stubborn redhead sitting on the floor, shoving a cupcake in her face by herself. And who is Angela to leave her well enough alone?]

The first rule of Cupcake Club is you gotta share.

[ July 31st. Oh. He knew there was some nerdy thing tickling at the back of his head but it didn't really compute. But that's cute, actually. Something Scott would probably do on Allison's birthday. If he and Ginny become friends Stiles might have to rip out his own eyes to avoid the shower of sparkly hearts. ]

Oh no, I'm good. [ HE'S NOT HERE TO STEAL YOUR CUPCAKES. ] Are you okay? With the whole separation thing.

I am sharing. [Ginny doesn't need to look around to know who's speaking to her, just smiles and ducks her head.] I had one for Harry up there. I know he'd prefer treacle tart, but I didn't think to make one and I'm not sure I could handle eating a whole one by myself.

[She shrugs, hooking her thumbs into the pockets of her shorts.]

It's been long enough and I'm used to it. Not just here, but at home, too. He has things to do. [And he doesn't expect her to wait, which is why she's gone on a few dates that never quite stuck in the City. She chuckles, blushing a bit.] He'd probably hate that I'm spending my afternoon like this, honestly.

Well. [ He fidgets, he's a fidgeter. ] I could stick around? I mean - until you're done? We could do something.

[ WOW AWKWARD. Shaking his head and clearing his throat. ] I mean, it's gotta suck being here and having to deal with it. I'm free.

I'd actually like to hang round for a bit, if that's alright.

[She reaches out to rest a hand on his arm because, well, yes, he is fidgeting. She smiles, easy.]

You haven't got to wait. You were in the middle of a run, weren't you? Feeling up to that?

Uh. Yeah. Running the rest of the sickness out. Not that I'm still sick! It just feels like there's -. [ Like the ghost of damp up his spine or something. But he seems to relax a little, his shoulders dropping and his hands moving like he's flicking invisible water ( nerves ) from his fingers. ]

I can still hang out. Not here. Somewhere close?

[She knows what he means. She still feels like there's something of it lingering in her, an overlying exhaustion that might have something to do with the past week and something else entirely. So she gives his arm a gentle squeeze before releasing it to show that she gets it, she does.]

You're sweet. What if I joined you for a run later? Run off the rest of this cupcake. [Then, realising what it sounds like - ] I wouldn't mind if you stayed for a bit, though. You said you've never been in here before?

Edited 2013-07-31 19:13 (UTC)

Oh, yeah. I didn't even know there was something like this here. It makes sense though. Kind of ... neat if you forget how horrible it is?

[ He wonders if Isaac's name is in here. ]

[ chakotay has decided to take the time to look around the city. he knows very little about it and would like to at least learn the layout. he's dressed in civilian clothing, all traces of his federation and future technology gone, hidden. the last thing any of them needs is to have a certain someone notice them. the only strange thing about him might be the tattoo on his face, but that will never change. its significance should not be hidden, nor would he ever want to.

he makes his way into the hall of the missing, pure curiosity having brought him here. it's an impressive place, to say the least. the halls remind him of ancient earth, a period long before chakotay could claim life. it's fascinating and makes him wonder about the rest of the city. and of ancient earth.

the term "hall of the missing" brings to mind too many thoughts. it's obviously a place where the people who were once here but are no longer are remembered. but it could also be a place to remember the ones lost from other places, lost to those who remain, regardless of their past or current presence here. that brings to mind his father, tilting his mood and expression to one of fondness with a tinge of sorrow.

hall of the missing indeed.

he wanders the hallway, looking through the faces, taking in their features as he goes. he takes note of the young girl on the floor, the red hair and freckles standing out, but he doesn't interrupt her. she appears deep in thought and were their roles reversed, he wouldn't want to be interrupted. so he simply walks on, waiting for a time in which she seems less occupied or she herself comes to find him. ]

[She doesn't mean to spend her afternoon here, but she finds she relishes the silence and relative comfort of the Hall when she once found it stifling. But it seems like in the years she's spent in the City, this place has been one of her constants and there was a time she used to drop by once a month out of worry more than nostalgia. But today, it's the latter, and she's grateful for it—maybe it's a bad thing, that she's come to terms with her place in this other world, but that doesn't mean she ought to stop living her life just because this isn't the one's she's meant to have. It doesn't mean she should ignore pieces of home when they call to her because it's too painful; if anything, being here is kind of a release, the privacy allowing her to just be, for a bit.

A few friends have stopped by in here, marking the time with each visit, and finally Ginny checks her watch and decides she ought to get up and go. She collects her things and stands, stretching when she gets to her feet. Then she takes a few steps towards the portraits of her friends and family, rests a hand briefly on Harry's, and turns—

And sees that someone's joined her. The young woman pauses then smiles.]

Hullo. Sorry, am I standing in front of someone you know? [She begins to move away from the wall, polite and obliging.] You can go ahead.

I used to think it was horrible.

[Ginny glances back up at the portraits, hands clasping behind her back and head cocked at a thoughtful angle.]

But it's not that bad. It's like... I don't know, an interesting history of the City. Definitely more straightforward than the library, it's almost impossible to get answers out of that place. But here, it's just—they were here, then they weren't. [She points.] Like my brothers. Those four right there.

[ chakotay has moved on a little ways by the time she addresses him, but he smiles when she does, turning to face her. his eyes take in her bright red hair and all of those freckles and he wonders if this is his city guide. his smile is calm, his body language relaxed, though upright. ]

Not at all. I haven't been here long enough to have lost anyone.

[ oh he's lost plenty of people, just none of them from this particular city. ]

My name is Chakotay. You wouldn't happen to be Ginny, would you?

[She hopes that no one is here long enough to lose anyone, but it's a wish that none of them are capable of granting. It all boils down to so much luck in the end. She's been here too long to know so many faces on these walls, but her mind isn't on that right now.

Her eyes light up when he introduces himself, recognising his voice just as he says his name, and she breaks into a broader smile that is more familiar than cordial.]

Hi. I mean, yeah, I'm Ginny— [She breaks into a laugh, soft but echoing in the space, as she steps towards him to extend a hand.] You're as tall as you sound. Lovely to meet you.

Very nice to meet you, too. [ he reaches to take her hand and give it a shake, his grip firm but gentle, exactly as the rest of him is. his smile radiates warmth, small though it is. ]

Compared to a lot of people I've met, I'm not actually that tall. [ but he's teasing her. he's tall, broad more than anything, and he knows it. sometimes he even uses his mere presence to his advantage. now is definitely not one of those times, however. ]

It's a nice day for a hall of memories, isn't it? [ said casually and as much for him as it is for her, opening the space between them if she wants to ask him questions rather than speak about her own losses. ]

[Joking,]

Compared to a lot of people I've met, I am actually this short.

[But it's a source of exasperated amusement more than anything else. She likes him immediately, though, more so now that she's met him than just another voice on the network. Something about him puts her at ease and she's lucky, really, to have met the right sorts of people in the City compared to a few summers ago when all she did was run into the wrong ones. (She still bears those scars.) It's refreshing, if anything.

His question softens her smile and she shrugs, looking back out to the portraits, skipping over the faces she's memorised so well.]

You could say that. I actually helped with repairs in here after the fighting died down, so... I don't know, it's nice to just have a look around again. [Maybe that's a bit maudlin, willingly choosing to fix up a place that reminds everyone of loss, of being trapped.] It was a friend's birthday. I thought I'd come along to give him my greetings. [Then she glances back at Chakotay, a bit sheepish, but still smiling.] Maybe it's a bit pathetic.

Edited 2013-07-31 22:13 (UTC)

[ he laughs in turn, softly but with as much warmth as exists in his eyes. however, when she answers his question, his smile fades and he glances back at the pictures. ]

Paying your respects to friends and family who have gone before you and whom you respect and admire is never pathetic. [ he's firm about that, though his tone doesn't ever rise. he feels a certain sympathy for her. every year on his father's birthday, he spends time reflecting and asking for kolopak's guidance and blessing. ] Your friend is very lucky to have you to remember him.

[ for a moment, he's quiet, his eyes taking in the hall. ]

You've done a good job on this place. It looks well-cared-for.

It wasn't just me, there was a small handful of us. [And she used magic, so it was easy, but she isn't about to say that without reason.] But thanks. It should be well cared for, it's the sort of place that deserves some respect, I think.

[Because everyone wants to be up on those walls someday, don't they? She's sure her face was when she went home twice in the four years she's been here. She wonders who looked for her, if anyone looked at all. She always looks for everyone else, it seems. Scott McCall had asked why should anyone bother to get close to people if they eventually leave?

She'd replied that the people are the only way she keeps sane most days. Even if they come back and don't remember her and it feels like she made up their history together, even when she knows it's true (Chase, Jim, Dr McCoy, dozen others). Ginny crosses her arms, almost hugging herself, and she can feel the press of her wand where it's hidden in the sleeve of her cardigan. Everything's true, everything's real. Magic is real so this must be, too, because it's magic.

She inclines her head to Harry's portrait.]

He always spent his birthday with my family. Harry, I mean. Mum would make this amazing dinner, she'd cook so much food the table would barely hold it all. Pies and chicken and ice cream... [She smiles, looking at the empty carton between her feet.] I just had cupcakes. If I hadn't run out, I would've given you one. D'you like chocolate?

[ he can tell there's a lot to ginny, things she isn't saying and maybe can't, especially to a stranger. there's a lot that can't be said and he of all people understands that. she might not have the temporal prime directive governing her words and actions as he does, but she would have something else: humanity itself. topics that were too difficult to say, involving too much emotion, were better left unspoken. he would never push for more than what someone is willing to tell him, not unless he has proof that doing so would benefit and save other lives.

in this instance, they are merely two acquaintances getting to know each other and that doesn't lend itself to pushing for personal information.

instead, he turns to the portrait she indicated, his eyes taking in the young man inside before returning to ginny. ]

I love chocolate. [ they didn't get much of it on voyager, but he can't exactly say as much at the moment. temporal prime directive and all. ] We didn't have much growing up, nothing fancy, but what we did have was treasured. [ by everyone else, of course. he'd been... less than appreciative or cooperative about it. ] In my experience, enjoying what you have is better than wishing for what you don't have. But if you'd care to share cupcakes at a later date, I won't say no.

[It's a tricky balance to strike, this desire to be a normal young woman and the knowledge that she is anything but, magic aside. There's war in her history and even a year later, it's still hard to reconcile this life in the City with the one she has at home and how she was thrown back in here barely a week after the battle and expected to carry on like nothing had happened. Everything's happened, of course, everything's changed. And she isn't the age she should be, but that was her choice this time, a trade made with the old deities to look the age she felt she earned by being here so long.

There is a lot she isn't saying. Not just because she barely knows Chakotay but because she isn't sure she can say it, can articulate everything she feels at any given time. She's rubbish at talking. Got to pull it together, got to be that strong Weasley girl everyone's come to know. She let herself slip when she was sick. None of that, now.

But something he says does prickle a sense of understanding in her, meeting his gaze with a curious knit to her brows, even though there's still the curve of a smile in her lips.]

I couldn't agree more. The first bit, not the cupcake bit—not that I wouldn't share if I had them the next time we run into each other. [A beat.] I didn't have a lot growing up, either. Part and parcel as to why family's always been so important to me, I suppose. That's the one thing you can't buy and the one thing that'll always be there, you know? Whether you want them to be or not. [Grinning again, because the Burrow was never private.] Besides, Weasleys don't need fancy. We look better in handknit jumpers.

[ family. the one thing he has a difficult time talking about. his family is tens of thousands of lightyears away, a lot of people he'd once known are all dead, destroyed by the enemy he'd been trying to protect them from. good people, as kathryn had once called them, were dead because of a war he'd been taken from. if he hadn't been, he would've died with them, killed by the dominion in a territorial dispute turned outright war that seemed it would never end. he had been fighting for his people, his colony. in some respects, he felt as though he had failed them. but he had to admit, even to himself, that he was better able to serve alive rather than dead.

survivor's guilt hit him hard every time that thought cropped up and so he pushed it back down this time. ]

My father and I weren't on speaking terms when he died. I've regretted it ever since, but I'd like to think we are now. [ a soft, secretive smile crosses his face for a moment at the thought of meeting the "sky people" a few years ago. he'd gotten some measure of closure then and he vowed to hold onto it. ] Family, be it blood family or chosen, is important. It's a bond that can never be changed.

[ he considers voyager's crew his family now, a chosen family, but one he would die for. even tuvok, though that was more a sense of duty to kathryn than a particular fondness for the vulcan federation spy. ]

Am I to assume handknit jumpers are a family tradition?

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→ come on skinny love just last the year

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