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[briarpotter]

1 & 13 for the song ask game ❤️

makes me happy Hmm, that's hard, but I have to say, Rock With You by Seventeen always cheers me up! It makes me want to get up and dance.

should be in a movie Definitely good 4 u by Olivia Rodrigo. It'd work very well in a revenge type movie, at least in my opinion.

Send me a song!

[briarpotter]

send me a number and i’ll give you a song that :

makes me happy

makes me sad

made me cry

is from an underrated artist

is from a popular artist

makes me feel like i could kill god

i’ll never get tired of listening to

is from an artist i’ve listened to for a while

is from an artist i just found

i just found and that i love

is from my favorite playlist

is in a movie

should be in a movie

i’d make everyone listen to

i relate to

makes me nostalgic

makes me want to fall in love

makes me want to burn the world down

is from my favorite genre

i’ve recommended to someone

someone recommended to me

reminds me of a character

has interesting sounds that tickle my brain right

i want to be my theme song

i want to hear in a grocery store

[briarpotter]

I'm honoured to be mentioned in between so many talented writers! Thank you so much for hosting this, I had a lot of fun!

Thank you to everyone who wrote a fic for Several Sunlit Daylights: The Tortured Potters Department. Here are all of the fics written for this celebration of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley. Go read them all, leave a comment, and share the love!

I can fix him (no really I can) by @ginnyw-potter

Fresh Out the Slammer by @merlinsbudgiesmugglers

Two Hearts one Soul (based on Down Bad) by @tomjamesavery

loml by @starlingflight

Guilty as Sin? by @starlingflight

But Daddy, I Love Him by @albaskies

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart by @thenicestthingiveseen

can't have a conversation if it's not all about you (Down Bad) by @thenicestthingiveseen

But Daddy I Love Him by @takearisk-ao3

But Daddy, I Love Him by @briarpotter

She Can't Do It, Without Him by @nena-96

Clara Bow by @nena-96

Sping Again, Somehow (based on I Can Do It With a Broken Heart) by @pocket-lilacs

loml by @corneliaavenue-ao3

fresh out the slammer by @corneliaavenue-ao3

[briarpotter]

But Daddy, I Love Him

Written for The Tortured Potters Department @corneliaavenue-ao3 Read here, or on Ao3.

1986

She snuggled into her pillow, seeking the comforting warmth of her bed. It was a dark night, the weather thundering and stormy. Her father was in her room, sitting on a chair, next to her bed, telling her a story about how this little boy, not much older than her, defeated this dark wizard.

She watched in fascination and excitement as her father gestured with his hands wildly. A roar sounded. She jumped, and clutched her teddy bear more securely. Arthur chuckled. “It’s alright. It’s just some thunder.” She relaxed slightly, still recovering from the fright of the loud sound.

“There was a boy named Harry Potter. He conquered the darkest wizard there was; Lord Voldemort.” Arthur began. She grinned at her father. “Lord Voldemort did some terrible things, killing anyone who stood in his way to power. He was ruthless; yet cunning and ambitious. But you know?” He narrated. “What?” She asked curiously. “A little baby, just over a year old, managed to defeat him. His name, was Harry.”

She noticed that her father had a relieved smile on his face when he said this. She resolved then and there, that she would marry this boy. Anyone who could make her father smile deserved her love. She grinned at him, and he grinned back.

He sighed. “You should forget I told you this. Your mother would kill me if she found out. She still thinks all of you are too young to know about the war, but with the way it’s going, I think you should know in advance.” He said. “But Daddy, I love him!” She exclaimed. His eyes softened before he shook his head. Standing up, he pushed his chair back, and moved towards the door.

“Get some sleep, baby girl. Goodnight, love.” He called. “Goodnight, daddy.” She called at his retreating back, conflicted about what he said. She shrugged, snuggling into the warm sheets, her teddy bear comforting her on this dark stormy night.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

1st September, 2001

Arthur let himself outside, feeling shocked and a little bit teary. His daughter was getting married today. She was only 20, and she was already getting married. He liked Harry, not to get him wrong, but seeing his baby getting married hurt. She was all grown up. She didn’t need him anymore, not like she used to.

He went to see Ginny in her room, where she was getting ready for the day. In a few hours, he would be walking her down the aisle, and giving her away. His eyes brimmed with tears as they landed on her. She was a vision, even though she wasn’t fully ready yet. She was still doing her hair and makeup, and was yet to get in her dress. She smiled at him when he entered.

He gave her a watery smile in return, causing her to frown. She stopped her hairdresser, got up and followed her father outside. “What’s wrong, daddy?” She asked. His heart warmed when she called him daddy. “You haven’t called me that since you were 8.” Her eyes softened. “I love you, daddy.” His lips curved.

“Are you sure you want to get married so young? You have your entire life out in front of you.” He said. She smiled at him. “But daddy, I love him! And I want to spend that life with Harry. I want to take his name, be his wife, and be the mother of his children.” He smiled sadly at her. Realization crosses her face. “You’ll always have me daddy. You won’t lose me, y’know? I’m still here.” She said. He kissed the top of her head, smiled at her, and kissed her forehead. All was well.

[briarpotter]

And if I didn't know better

Or: One evening, Ginny reflects on her choice to help raise Teddy, while trying to navigate her grief for the loss of those who never could.

______________________________________________________________

She isn’t quite so sure what made her decide to step up for a child when she was hardly an adult herself. Not that she’d done much at first - she’d barely ever been there during the first year of his life, and she’d only gathered the courage to rock him to sleep a few months after she’d moved back home. It was more of a feeling, as if she’d accepted the responsibility deep in her heart before she could even trust her own limbs to hold him properly. 

It feels like a lifetime away, now, as his little body is curled up against hers and his turquoise hair shines in the dim candlelight. They lay on several cushions and blankets scattered on the floor; an old white sheet stuck on four chairs hanging on top of their heads, covering the ceiling. They’ve built a fort, you know. Right after playing dragons and running around on invisible broomsticks (‘Feet on the ground, Teddy, please’). All in their living room, all after having dinner. 

Harry’s sent word that he’ll be home late - problems at the office. He sounded very disappointed to miss out on having Teddy over for the night, one of his favourite weekly activities. He usually sleeps over on Fridays, but they might have to switch it to Saturdays if Harry keeps on getting held back at work.

Ginny is seriously doubting that her strategy to try and wear Teddy out before bedtime has been effective, as Teddy’s eyes are still wide open and shimmering with energy. The cup of warm milk she’s offered him hasn’t quite done the trick, now left unfinished and forgotten on the floor right next to him. But then again, Teddy’s undergoing that toddler phase where nothing in the world can get him to wind down unless he decides to, thank you very much. How did Hermione call him? A threenager? Where did she even hear such a ridiculous thing?

She looks down at him again, as he has started to move his tiny hands and notice the corresponding shadow movements reflected on the sheet. His expression is full of wonder, not a care in the world, and she’s so grateful for the look in his eyes (and, yes, for the rare moment of quiet as well) that she feels her heart could explode.

‘Look, Teddy,’ she says, joining her thumbs and wiggling the rest of her fingers. ‘Isn’t that an eagle? Oh my, how did it get here?’.

Teddy squeals with laughter, unable to contain his excitement - the sweetest sound in the world.

‘Again, Ginny, again!’.

She regrets it, to have hesitated back then. It’s not that she didn’t care for him when he was a baby - quite the contrary, actually. She’d known she loved him so much since before he was even born; that one Christmas morning when Tonks had grabbed her hand and had gently placed her on her pregnant tummy.  But she was scared, terrified of messing it all up, of not being good enough. She still is sometimes - she’s just learned to cope with it better, or maybe to hide it better. She reckons that nobody really knows how to deal with a child from the beginning, especially when it’s not their own; and they are all a bit broken now anyway. But it doesn’t really matter, does it, as long as they’re there for each other, as long as Friday nights are still about dragons, invisible broomsticks and animal shadows on a fort sheet ceiling.

.

Harry had dived into the role with all his seriousness and solemnity because, well, what else do you expect. He’d tried so hard to get Teddy to like him from the start, as if there could ever be the risk that he wouldn’t. He’d show up to Andromeda’s house bearing so many gifts that she’d had to beg him to stop once and for all, for the love of Merlin. 

‘I just want to do something nice for him, you know,’ he’d told Ginny later, his brows furrowed and his glare focused on his tea mug.

‘But you already do,’ she’d said, her hand gently squeezing his thigh. ‘You’re there for him. That’s as nice as it gets.’

She could tell she hadn’t fully convinced him, just as she knew that he hadn’t been exactly truthful either. He wanted to do something nice for Teddy, sure, stepping in those daunting godfather shoes as smoothly as possible. But he wanted to do something nice for himself too, for his much younger self, trying to give away all the love and attention he’d been missing all his life. And she couldn’t really blame him for that, now, could she.

‘Gin,’ he’d murmured, his whisper almost pleading. ‘I don’t think I know what I’m doing.’

She’d moved her hand from his leg to his jaw, resisting the urge to cut him off with sarcasm, ‘Have you ever, though.’

‘Nobody asks that of you right now, Harry. You’ll figure it out.’

He looks at her, still unconvinced. ‘But Tonks and Lupin -’

‘No,’ she’d shushed him, gently pressing a finger on his lips. ‘Not even them.’

That’s the thing - nobody had asked her to, either. And it’s not that she’d felt compelled to act as an unofficial godmother only because of her relationship with Harry. He’d certainly never expected that of her. 

She’d felt hurt when her mum had implied that once. As if that ring that Harry had placed on her finger dictated all of her choices, as if she had to have a reason to desire to care for Teddy. As if she hadn’t known Tonks and Lupin, too. 

No, Teddy's become part of her life because of a very careful and important choice she’s made. It has been so incredibly natural, and it has required quite some effort, both at the same time. But it’s always been there, no matter what. 

There hasn’t been a single Quidditch match she’s played without looking for him and Harry in the stands; there hasn’t been a single house she and Harry have looked at without thinking about what room could become his for when he stays over. There hasn’t been a single time she hasn’t thought of him when looking at the clear blue sky.

.

‘And what about this?’, she asks him, still twisting her hands to give life to dark shapes on the sheet.

Teddy lets out a sweet chuckle. ‘A rabbit!’.

‘Good job, Teddy!’’ 

He claps his hands in excitement and his hair seems to have become an even brighter shade of blue.

‘More, more!’

‘Let’s see. What about…’ Ginny says, continuing to move her fingers. ‘This?’

He seems to think about it for a second, squeezing his eyes, wrinkling his nose. Then he beams.

‘A wolf!’

A beat.

‘Er - no, it’s a dog -’

‘No, it’s a wolf!’

‘Teddy -’

And before she knows it, he starts howling. 

‘Wolves aren’t scary, Ginny! You shouldn’t be scared!’

She looks at him in horror. Total panic. Her mind blacked out. That’s the one thing she hasn’t brought herself to do with Teddy yet - talking about his parents. Or even mentioning them, to be frank. She’s quite selfishly left that to Harry, because what does she know about this stuff, he’s a child, she doesn’t want to mess it up for him. She’s quite sure that she would, if she tried. She can’t even think straight after he’s seen the shadow of a wolf rather than a dog, after all. What a stupid way to react to a child acting his age, playing and having fun. Stop this. Don’t be a git, please stop this.

It’s almost as if Lupin and Tonks never enter the bubble that she creates when she’s with Teddy - which is absurd, nonsensical, completely idiotic. But,  well - her insides knotting in guilt at the mere thought - it’s easier this way. She feels ashamed of herself, absolutely fucking revolted. Now that he’s inadvertently brought it up though, a three-year-old braver than she’ll ever be, and he’s opened Pandora’s box (some famous Greek witch, she reckons), she's at a loss for words. It’s so subtle that she should just let it slide - she must, actually. He hasn’t even asked her anything, he hasn’t even made the connection. He doesn’t even know. 

Her mind is racing out of control and he hasn’t even done it on purpose. She’s the one who’s acting like a lunatic. She doesn’t know why she feels like she should say something, doesn’t even know what, because it would all sound wrong anyway.

You know, Teddy, she almost hears herself saying, but you know, Teddy, what exactly? Why can’t she get this thought out of her head? He’s blissfully unaware, and he’s just a child that is playfully pretending to be a wolf, what the hell wrong with you, Ginny, pull yourself together. 

She continues spiralling as she notices that he’s stopped howling, and is now observing her with curiosity. 

Fuck, you’re going to traumatise him, aren’t you. 

As she looks at him more closely, she notices that his eyes, that have been blue like his hair for months now, have now turned darker - a warm, chocolaty brown. And instead of feeling even more horrified, she simply calms down, her panic gone.

Funny how Lupin can offer her comfort even in death.

.

She is staring at the empty desk in front of her. The bell has rung and all her classmates have left already, but somehow she can’t bring herself to get out of the classroom and head to lunch. Not yet, because she is staring at the empty desk in front of her so intensely, almost as if she could get it to talk to her. She remembers sitting there, less than a year ago, just before her memory had gone blank into one of her many blackouts. She remembers opening her diary on her lap, bored to death at the sound of Professor Lockhart’s pompous voice, she remembers jotting down a few thoughts pretending to be taking notes. Then she remembers a voice, his voice, and nothing more. Maybe if she stares at the desks hard enough, it will come back to her, maybe she will remember how she got from the classroom to Hagrid’s shed and then back to the castle again… 

‘What are you still doing here, Ginny?’.

She blinks once, and then once again, trying to bring Professor Lupin’s greyish frame into focus. She isn’t sure since when he’s been sitting on the chair in front of her.

‘Are you looking for something?’, he asks, watching her carefully. She must look rather lost, because he quickly adds: ‘You did well in class, today.’

‘I - er, no - I mean, thanks,’ she blurts out. His dark brown eyes are still focused on her, studying her in detail.

She clears her throat, as if to gather her courage. There is something she’s been wanting to ask him, actually, but she isn’t even sure that she should bring it up. Percy has made it clear that she shouldn’t talk about it with anybody, but Percy doesn’t really understand what it feels like, doesn’t it? To lose control, to not know.

‘I suppose you were wondering what happened on the train a few days ago?’, says Professor Lupin bluntly, as if it’s the most obvious thing on the planet.

‘How do you -?’

‘You wouldn’t be the first to ask.’

As she observes him a little more closely than ever before, she realises he must be much younger than he looks. He has a few grey locks of hair here and there, his face is tired and emaciated, but he doesn’t have wrinkles around his eyes and mouth like her dad. 

He smiles, encouragingly. She clears her throat again. 

‘My brother Percy’s told me about the Dementors,’ she mutters, her glare back on the desk. ‘I know they make people feel bad. It’s just -’.

She suddenly hears it again, that low, yet so familiar voice, telling her she should not be frightened. Then flashes of light, blood, screams, and her clothes are unexplainably damp. 

She shivers, subtly patting her robes. She’s fine. She’s fine.

‘I did some things last year,’ she hears herself say. She doesn’t even know how she’s managed to gather enough strength to.

‘I just fear - well, I guess I worry that the Dementors will make me do them again.’

Professor Lupin falls silent for a few seconds. He continues to watch her, but has now stopped smiling.

‘From what I’ve heard, you haven’t chosen to do any of those things.’

He’s heard, then. She doesn’t wonder why - she reckons stories must travel fast among Hogwarts staff, too.

She would normally be ashamed, but now she can’t help but feel a hint of relief, stemming from Merlin knows where. After all, yes, he’s heard, but he’s still talking to her like she isn’t any different; he’s heard, and he’s still offered her chocolate. 

‘Don’t worry, Ginny, Dementors can’t make you reenact your bad memories. They surely make you relive them, though,’ he furrows his brows, as if an unexpected thought has suddenly crossed his mind. ‘Do you - er - have enough support here?’

She’s taken aback by this question, shame creeping on her cheeks. ‘I’ve got four brothers here,’ she quickly responds, but she knows that this isn’t what he means. She sighs. He seems to understand.

‘I’m working on it,’ she sputters, defensively. ‘It’s not exactly easy to make friends when all the girls in your dormitory think you’re a freak.’

It comes out spontaneously, but she immediately regrets using that tone with a professor. However, to her great surprise, he bursts into laughter.

‘I guess you’re right,’ he says, throwing her an enigmatic look. ‘But believe me when I say that friends are the most precious gift that Hogwarts can give you. Real friends will help you overcome all the hard times; and if they think you’re a freak, well, they’ll choose to be freaky with you.’

He stops smiling, suddenly looking rather thoughtful, but then quickly shakes his head. Somehow, she ends up with the strange feeling that he’s no longer having this conversation only with her.

‘Might I suggest,’ he adds, now back to his reassuring tone. ‘That you perhaps try to talk to other students that might have had - how to put this - a similar experience to yours? Harry’s a good friend of your brother’s, isn’t he?’

She feels it coming - the blush. One of the big ones. One of the bad ones.

‘No! I don’t think -’, she hisses, suddenly horrified, redder than she’s ever been in her life. ‘I don’t think that would work.’

He raises his eyebrows, the corners of his mouth slightly twitching.

‘Well, you never know,’ he states matter-of-factly. He then stands up, patting his hands on his legs. ‘But now I must really let you go. I wouldn’t want you to feel unwell during your next class because you haven’t had any lunch.’

She nods, grabs her things, mutters an awkward ‘Thanks’. Just when she’s about to leave, she hears him speak again.

‘It may be hard to understand now, but what happened to you doesn’t define you. Please, don’t ever forget that.’

It’s true, she doesn’t understand that quite just yet, but she will remember those words for the rest of her life.

For now, she’s busy spending the next few days ridiculously terrified by the thought of Professor Lupin telling Harry about their conversation. She imagines Harry looking at her with pity, disgust even, as a stupid little girl who can’t bring herself to make some friends. But this doesn’t happen - Harry barely ever looks at her, and when he does he seems, well, normal. She’s quite glad of that, for one. She’s also so incredibly glad that Professor Lupin respected her enough to keep her secret, that he could be trusted.

Years later, she’ll regret never having told him that she and Harry had fallen in love. She’ll reckon he would’ve liked to know that, he might have even been delighted. She’ll figure, as a punch in her stomach, that she’d assumed they’d have more time.

.

‘You know what, Teddy, you’re right,’ she finally says, gently stroking his hair. ‘Wolves aren’t scary.’

He beams, looking rather satisfied with her answer, and pulls up his back to sit against a big pillow.

‘Let’s play another game!’

Ginny sighs at his never ending source of energy; her hopes that relaxing under the fort would somehow make him drowsy are completely shattered. She quickly glances at the clock on the wall - if Andromeda finds out that Teddy's been up so late, she’ll never hear the end of it.

‘Time out, Teddy,’ she says, faking a yawn. ‘We should really go to bed now.’

Teddy frowns, pouting his lips and wrinkling his little nose.

‘What if we read the story of Babbity Rabbity?’, she then intervenes tentatively, hoping to jump in just in time to prevent a tantrum. ‘Come on, you love Babbity Rabbity…’

But Teddy isn’t having it. He shakes his head fervently, now crossing his arms.

Ginny wonders if this is the time to be a bit more assertive with him, if she could dare, even. Sometimes she feels like she’s still tiptoeing around him - she’s the one giving him all the fun and games, but when it comes to discipline, she finds that she’s quite rattled. He’s not her child, after all; she fears it’s not her place. Most of the time, she finds herself wondering how Lupin would deal with his son’s tantrums; she would love to see what Tonks would do. She reckons she would do anything to learn a bit more about parenthood from them both, even though (and to only remotely fathom this, her heart sinks) they haven’t had the chance to be parents for long. They would’ve been brilliant at it, though - this is merely her fantasy, sure, as she actually doesn’t know. Tonks and Lupin will remain fundamentally pure in her memory, because she doesn’t like to remember their flaws, especially not in relation to Teddy, and it won’t do any good to anyone, anyway.

‘Why don’t finish up your milk first?’, she tries again, pointing at the abandoned mug on the floor. With a flick of her wand, she mildly warms it up again. 

He nods enthusiastically, but something goes wrong when he grabs the mug and he spills all the remaining milk all over himself and the blanket. He immediately looks up at her, his eyes filled with remorse and anticipation, almost as if he’s realised he’s gone a step too far. Ginny is aware that Teddy’s clumsy to the point of exasperating his grandmother, and that he might even expect a scolding for his little distraction, but she feels a sudden rush of affection towards him instead.

‘All right,’ she says, standing up and taking him in her arms. ‘Time for another bath.’

She could easily scurgify and dry up his pyjamas, but she remembers how good it would feel when her mum would bathe her and then wrap her in a warm towel, always offering her snuggles and kisses along the process. She repeats the same ritual with Teddy, even playing with some dragon and quaffle toys in the water with him, just as her mum used to - only that the toys, at the time, were old and faded, sometimes missing a paw or an eye. 

She wraps him in the softest towel she can find, swings him in her arms while dancing across the hallway to reach her bedroom, and pretends to drop him on her bed. He laughs so hysterically and uncontrollably that his hair becomes curly. Her heart couldn’t be any more full.

She retrieves his pyjamas bottoms with a quick ‘Accio’ and helps him wear them, but decides to leave his milk-stained t-shirt on the bathroom floor. She ransacks first Harry’s, and then her own clothes drawer in search of something clean for Teddy to wear that isn’t the top of Harry’s Auror uniform, a pair of mismatched socks, a bra or some old Christmas jumpers. 

That’s when she sees it, stuck in the back of the drawer - a hint of green. She touches the cotton fabric and seizes it. It still feels soft, despite having been left unworn and forgotten in a drawer for years.

She realises her hands are shaking. She’d never thought she could’ve forgotten.

.

Ginny had never assumed she could smell dust before, but now she’s quite positive she’s been in the wrong all her life. As she sits in the dining room of 12 Grimmauld Place, taking a break from the massive amount of cleaning her mother has decided to subject her to since they’ve moved here (no exceptions, not even today), she feels like every inch of her body is covered with dust. Her hair, her fingers, her nose - to the extent that she thinks she can actually smell it. And it’s not great, considering that the more extensive the efforts they make to clean up the house, the more the house seems to turn out filthier than before.

Today it’s only her and her mother on cleaning duty, though. Everyone else is too preoccupied with what’s going to happen tomorrow - the tense whispering and nervous pacing are becoming almost unbearable. Her mum is worried too, of course, but she reckons that trying to tidy up this wreck of a place is the only way she knows to distract herself at the moment. Ginny is, for one, happy to oblige. She’d never thought she’d say this, but she’d rather dust every single one of those house-elf heads hanging on top of the stairs with a toothbrush rather than giving in to everyone’s anxiety.

Amused by the thought, she gets up to go and do just that, but someone barges loudly in the room from the door behind her back.

‘Wotcher, Ginny,’ says a ringing voice. ‘So, where's the party?’

Ginny smiles at Tonks, who has styled her hair in a bright purple ponytail today. Before she can say anything, Tonks hands her a little parcel, wrapped in crumpled paper that must have once belonged to an issue of the Daily Prophet. She recognises some of the scattered, black-inked words - ‘The Boy Who Lies?’, or: ‘Let’s hope he hasn’t got a scar on his forehead or we’ll be asked to worship him next’, and: ‘Delusional teenager’, ‘Better skilled at seeking attention than golden snitches’,  ‘Expert Circe Bryce confirms that orphaned children often employ cunning strategies to cope with their abandonment complex (more on page 8).’

‘Sorry,’ utters Tonks with an apologetic half-smile. ‘That’s all I could find.’

Ginny shrugs and lets out an unlikely high-pitched cackle. Laughs at the irony of it all. Everything seems to be overflowing with Harry these days, even her birthday presents. 

She rips out the paper, unsure whether she’s more eager to see what’s inside or to get those stupid printed words out of her sight. The first thing that she finds is soft and bright green, an unmistakable green, and she already knows what it is.

‘You didn’t!’, she cries out in complete disbelief. ‘No way!’

‘Heard you’re a big fan.’

Ginny wields a Holyhead Harpies t-shirt in her hands as if it’s a trophy, her most prized possession, and her eyes are sparkling.

‘The design is from 1981, the year you were born, I s’pose,’ continues Tonks with a satisfied look on her face, pointing at the golden print on the front of the t-shirt. It reads Holyhead Harpies in a curly font, never seen before. ‘I thrifted it from a small shop in Diagon Alley. I should take you there some time.’

Ginny nods with excitement, although she’s only listened to half of what Tonks’s said, too busy marvelling at her new t-shirt.

‘Come on now,’ adds Tonks, sounding very amused, pointing at the half-opened parcel. ‘There’s something else in there.’

Ginny opens her eyes wide and immediately dives her hands into the wrapping paper. She finds something thin and folded - when she opens it, it reveals a moving picture of Gwenog Jones darting through the air on her broomstick.

‘She’s a badass, isn’t she,’ comments Tonks. Ginny doesn’t respond right away, too busy mentally scanning the walls of her bedroom back at the Burrow to decide where to hang the picture.

‘Blimey, you’re spoiling me, Tonks,’ she manages to let out after a bit, still holding the t-shirt with one hand and her new poster with the other. She then throws her arms around Tonks’s neck, squeezing her tight. ‘Thank you, so much.’

She doesn’t quite know what she’s done to deserve Tonks’s affection after knowing her for barely over a month. It’s true, they spend most of their days together under the same roof, but they seem to have just instantly connected regardless. Tonks embodies everything that she aspires to be one day, plus she’s bold, unbelievably funny, and doesn’t coddle her. It feels good to be surrounded by women that aren’t her mother for a change - soothing, even. For what may be the first time in her life, this summer she’s truly felt the urge and longing for female companionship - maybe because she’s finally started getting used to it, back at school and here at Grimmauld Place. And now that Hermione’s back to fussing over Harry with her brother, and her mother is too busy running around yelling at people, she’s really only got Tonks to rely on. What amazes her is that Tonks doesn’t seem to mind - on the contrary, she appears to be rather thrilled to spend time with her when she can, unbothered by their age gap, almost taking her under her wing. In a time of her life in which she feels left out, a spare, Tonks has chosen to give her some purpose, to make her feel necessary. She doesn’t know why she does it, only that she’ll be eternally grateful for it.

‘Ah, it’s nothing,’ smiles Tonks, gently pulling away from her to give her a pointed look. ‘I’m sorry that we didn’t celebrate you more, though.’ 

She doesn’t need to add more about lingering wars, resistance movements and impending Ministry hearings.

‘What are you talking about,’ says Ginny, brushing those thoughts off quickly. ‘This birthday’s been dashing. Even your cousin’s made me a card.’

That’s quite true, actually. Her mum's baked a cake and everybody (well, except some angsty black-haired teenager, know anyone?) gathered around the table to sing her ‘Happy birthday’ first thing in the morning. Then she's opened her gifts - a jumper from her parents, quite a few boxes of Honeydukes from all her brothers, and the unexpected birthday card from Sirius, with the handmade drawing of a flying hippogriff that waves hello and smirks at her. Hermione's gotten her a book, unsurprisingly - but that’s frustrated her a little, because she knows she won’t be able to reciprocate on her own birthday, except with a stupid singing card and (if she’s lucky) with a box of chocolates stolen from one of her brothers. 

Tonks chuckles lightly. ‘Has that special boy wished you a happy birthday?’

Ginny shrugs, and just as she’s about to mutter a resentful ‘Barely’, she realises with a pinch of guilt that Tonks is talking about - well, another boy.

‘Michael’s sent me an owl,’ she says, blushing softly. ‘Said he misses me.’

‘Bet he does,’ remarks Tonks, observing her very carefully all of a sudden, as if she wants to read her mind. She waits a few seconds and then, rather out of the blue, she simply adds: ‘Don’t ever settle, all right?’

Ginny frowns, puzzled. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Tonks doesn’t answer, but winks at her, laughing. ‘You’ll understand with time, you’ll see.’

And indeed, she will.

.

Ginny wonders if the small shop in Diagon Alley is still there after the war. She’d like to find it now, pay it a visit, maybe purchase something in Tonks’s honour. They’d never managed to go together, in the end.

She exhales heavily and taps the vintage Holyhead Harpies t-shirt with her wand, shrinking it just enough to fit Teddy perfectly. She reckons he should keep it; she doesn’t seem to have it in her to wear it, anyway.

Teddy falls asleep peacefully wearing that t-shirt and maybe it’s pathetic, maybe it’s irrational, but she can’t help hoping that his mother’s touch will comfort him in his dreams tonight. 

She’s so deep in her thoughts that she doesn’t notice that Harry’s arrived home until he plants a gentle kiss on the back of her head.

‘Tough evening?’, he asks softly, gesturing towards Teddy.

Ginny sighs, leaning her head on his chest. ‘It was fine.’

He seems to understand, though, and decides not to push further. They hold each other in silence for a while, their eyes captured by the little boy snuggled under the blanket and asleep in their bed. Staring at the past and the future, all at once.

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Guys, @ginnyw-potter just gave me the details on her Hinny Dirty Dancing AU idea and when I tell you that you need it, that's an understatement.

I told her I'd start a petition to make it happen, and she said I wouldn't (as we all know, it is unwise to dare a Ginny Stan) so if you need a Dirty Dancing AU (you do), like or reblog this post.

We are not above peer pressure at starlingflight.org

[briarpotter]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas Characters: Ginny Weasley, Lily Evans Potter, Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley, James Potter, Bill Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Percy Weasley, Original Characters, Xenophilius Lovegood, Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Severus Snape, Tom Riddle, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Neville Longbottom, Augusta Longbottom Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Fantasy, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Swordfighting, Swords & Sorcery Summary:

One summer day Lily Evans meets a fiery red-haired girl at the pond, she would not know that from that point on her life was destined to change. Two girls, two best friends-. thrown into a life they had never expected. Through high and low, facing a growing evil in a world of Witchcraft, Beasts, Knights, and Castles.

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Thank you to everyone who got me to 2500 likes!

[briarpotter]

WIP Wednesday

It's actually Thursday here, and I got the tag late, but who cares!

Anyway, I've only got one long fic I'm writing, so here's a snippet from the 3rd chapter of Back to the Beginning. I've already got Chapters 1 and 2 posted.

None of the books written about Harry had any mention of his birthday, meaning it wasn’t public knowledge to anyone except those who knew James and Lily Potter personally. Meaning at the time, only Sirius, Remus and the traitor; Wormtail, would and should know Harry’s birthday. But since he; Ron Weasley, Harry Potter’s Best Friend and Brother-in-Law; had travelled back in time with knowledge of the future, knew Harry’s birthday. And all the Weasleys also knew it, considering all the birthdays they celebrated here at the Burrow. But none of the Weasleys had met Harry yet, so they didn’t know. Not yet, anyway.

You can check it out on AO3 or FFN!

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Ginniversary Drabble

Read here on Ao3, or continue reading below.

O-68: To his horror, he realized he'd been this way before.

“Point Me!” He whispered into the darkness. His wand spun in his hand, then settled on his open palm, pointing north, the center of the maze. He tread forward carefully, wary of any dangerous obstacles. As he turned the corner, he was faced with a huge Blast-Ended Skrewt. To his horror, he realized he’d been this way before. Desperately, he fired spells rapidly, hoping to distract it enough to make his escape.

Soon, he reached the center and found the Cup. He grabbed it, thinking he won, when the familiar jerk at his navel sent him reeling. When the spinning stopped, he found himself on the ground in front of Lord Voldemort. Voldemort raised his wand, and cast the cruciatus curse. “Crucio!” The pain was worse than a thousand white-hot knives boring into his skin. He screamed loudly while Voldemort let out a laugh that sent a chill in his spine.

He woke up sweating, his hair sticking to his forehead. He sat up quickly, moving his hair from his eyes. He groped around for his glasses, and sighed in relief when he saw the drawn curtains of his four-poster bed in his dorm at Hogwarts.

“Harry?” Ron asked, groggily. “You okay, mate?” “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a nightmare.” Harry replied. Talking about the night at the graveyard when Voldemort came back to life today had brought up some bad memories. “You sure?” Ron inquired. “I’m sure. Go back to sleep, mate.” Harry said. “Mmh.” Ron snored.

Chuckling at his best friend’s antics, he pulled back his curtains and opened his trunk, searching for the Marauders’ Map that the twins had given him 2 years ago. His eyes widened in surprise when he realized that someone was down in the common room. Apparently, Ginny couldn’t sleep either.

He head down the stairs leading to the Common room to find Ginny sitting on an armchair in front of the fireplace. “That’s my place, you know?” He said, jokingly. Ginny jolted when she heard someone behind her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologized. “You didn’t scare me, it’s just…” She hesitated. “You surprised me, is all.” She said. Harry nodded and moved to sit next to her.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked. She nodded. “A nightmare. I heard you talking about that night today, and somehow hearing you talk about how You-Know-Who was resurrected brought back bad memories.” She answered. “I get it. I had a nightmare too, you know?” He said. “What was it about?” She asked. A beat passed. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me-”  “I got tortured. By Voldemort. I took the portkey and Voldemort tortured me.” He interrupted her.

“Oh.” She said. They sat in silence, before Ginny started talking again. “I saw Tom. In my dream. I was back in the chamber, and Tom was talking to me, belittling me.” He nodded at her to go on. “I told him that you would come save me. He said that the famous Harry Potter didn’t care about me, a stupid little girl who was dumb enough to trust a diary which talked back to me, and that I deserved to die in the chamber.” She continued bitterly.

“I don’t think you were a stupid little girl. I think you were a girl who was lonely and trusted Tom because he made you feel safe. After a while, he started feeding off your fears, taking your soul. You were a little girl who didn’t deserve any of that.” He began. “None of that is true. You’re smart, pretty, popular, and a great Quidditch player from what I’ve seen.” He grinned. She smiled back. “You really think I’m pretty?” He nodded, blushing slightly as he realized what he had said. She chuckled at his face. “Thanks, Harry. I needed that.” She said. He nodded mutely, still embarrassed at calling her pretty.

She slapped her thighs, got up, stretching her body. “Well, I’ve got to get up to bed. We have an early morning tomorrow.” Harry, who had been looking at the exposed skin near her waist, startled and looked up to see Ginny slightly smirking. She clearly noticed him checking her out. He stuttered. “Y-yeah, I’ve gotta get to bed. ‘Night.” He wished her a goodnight, and head up the stairs, his face burning.

Ginny had just caught him checking her out! He buried and face in his pillow and groaned. He was never gonna get over that.

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Ginniversary Drabble

Read here on Ao3, or continue reading below.

O-74: “I want to be there when you get what's coming to you." (Modified Slightly)

They wanted revenge. Potter had killed their master; the greatest wizard of all time, and he deserved to die. A few months had passed since the “final battle”, which was what the Daily Prophet was calling the battle at Hogwarts school.

Some of the Dark Lord’s men had managed to escape in the chaos of the battle, and now they were hiding, biding their time, so that they could serve justice. Potter and his little mud-blood friend were trying to pass werewolf reforms in the ministry, as if werewolves deserved them. They were a lower form of life, like the house elves and goblins.

As revenge, they planned to make Potter suffer. And what better way to make him suffer, than hurting his blood-traitor girlfriend? He had been following the little bitch for days now, trying to find vulnerability in her routine.

She traveled from her house to her training facility, then went over to Potter’s house to talk to Potter and his friends. From there, she either spent the night, or head back home to her house in Ottery-St.-Catchpole.

There were many times when she was alone, but always in a crowded place. They very well can’t kidnap her in a public area, especially because of her fame. Being Potter’s girlfriend made her very famous, and if she suddenly disappeared in a public area, that would make the news, and Potter would realize who did it.

They had plans for her. Some of the guys particularly wanted to play with her, as they thought she was rather beautiful. And he had to admit that they may be right. The bitch was incredibly beautiful, which was a shame that she was a blood-traitor, because he sure would like to plant his seed in her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He swore loudly. He had been following the bitch when she suddenly whirled around and hit him in the balls. He groaned at the pain. Potter’s girlfriend glared at him and took out her wand. “Impedimenta!” Ropes flew out her wand. He fell to the floor rather unceremoniously. His head hit the ground so hard that he saw stars. She cast a patronus.  She said, “Harry, I caught the guy who’s been following me. Could you get over here quickly?” The horse patronus cantered off in search of Potter.

A few minutes later, Harry apparated in front of Ginny and asked, “Are you okay?” She nodded. “That’s the guy?” He asked. “Yeah. I’ve noticed him following me for a few days now.” She said. “Ok, you can head home, I can take care of this.” Harry said. “No.” “What?” “No, I won’t go home! I want to be there when he gets what's coming to him.”

Harry nodded, understanding the importance of her being there, plus he needed to file a report with her as witness.  “Alright then, let’s go.” He said, grimly. She nodded and followed Harry, taking him with them.

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Ginniversary Drabble

Read here on Ao3, or continue reading below.

I-16: Why had no-one ever mentioned Mum's twin?

“You never told me Mum had a twin? Why has no one ever mentioned Mum’s twin?” Albus asked, as he went through the day’s mail. “Mum’s twin? Your mum doesn’t have a twin? What are you talking about, Albus?” Harry spluttered. “Here, take a look. There’s a letter from some Jennifer Weasley?” Albus said. “What?!” Harry exclaimed, taking the letter his son held. He opened the envelope and read it. Albus watched in glee as his father’s eyes widened with every word he read.

Dear Ginny,

I know you’re probably wondering why I’m writing this letter to you. And yes, it’s true, I am your twin. The reason why I haven’t contacted you for years is because I honestly had no idea that I am a witch, let alone the fact that I have a twin! I found out through my boyfriend, who’s a wizard, a few months ago, and went to Gringotts to do an inheritance check.

I was taken from the family at birth and was adopted and raised by Muggles. As a kid, I would constantly be doing magic, which what my boyfriend tells me is accidental magic, but neither me nor my adopted family had any idea what it was. When my adopted sister got into a tragic accident, I got so upset, as I’m very close to her.

My boyfriend, whose name is Alex, found all the glasses in my house shattered and broken when he came over to comfort me when he found out about my sister. He realized that I’m a witch when I told him that I had no idea how they broke, so we went to Gringotts to check. He was right, and I also found out my real family, and that you’re my twin. So here we are.

I would really like to meet with you and get to know you and your family better, if you don’t mind. Please write back, and tell me a convenient time to meet.

Yours truly, Jennifer Weasley

Harry was shocked. Ginny had a twin? He needed to tell her. “Ginny! I need to talk to you! Could you come into the living room please?” He called. “Sure, honey!” She came into the living room. Harry, who had been sitting on the couch, pat the seat next to him, telling her to sit down.

She sat down next to Harry and he silently handed her the slightly folded letter. She took it. “What? What’s wrong, Harry? You look like you saw a ghost?” She asked. “Just read the letter.” He replied. She read it, her eyes widening. “What? Really? Is this true?” She was bewildered.

Just then, they heard a snort. They looked up to see their youngest son cracking up like someone had just told the funniest joke ever. “Why are you laughing, Albus?” Harry asked, annoyed. “It’s a prank!” Albus laughed so much; tears were running out his eyes.

“What?” Ginny asked. “Me and James pranked you! We pranked you so good!” He wheezed. “James wrote the letter, and we agreed that I would give you it! He knows I’m the better actor, so I gave it to you!” He added.

“Oh, you little-” Ginny growled playfully. She burst out laughing. Harry chuckled next to her. She complimented the prank after she stopped laughing. “It was a good prank. Uncle George would be proud.” Albus nodded and went up to his room. Ginny sighed and laid her head on Harry’s shoulder.

“While it was a good prank, they went a bit too far. I was really worried for a second there. We should talk to them about the difference between harmless pranks and pranks that are hurtful.” She said. Harry nodded. “I agree. For now, they’re just kids and they don’t understand the difference. As their parents, it’s our job to tell them. We’ll have a talk with them after dinner.” He said.

“I love you, you know?” She said. “I know. I love you too.”

[briarpotter]

Ginniversary Drabble

Read here on Ao3, or continue reading below.

B-9: The man she is about to marry happens to already have a wife and three kids. (Modified slightly into past tense.)

Pain. That was all she felt. All over her body. "Somebody get her to St. Mungo's!" She heard. She groaned at the pain. She felt herself being moved before she blacked out.

"What happened?" She heard someone ask. She recognized the voice as Harry's; her fiancé. She smiled to herself. She felt him slump on a chair next to her bed.

"How is she?!" Someone rushed in the room, clearly panicked. "I don't know. I haven't got a chance to talk to the healer." Harry said. "I'll go get them!" He exclaimed. She thought it was Ron.

He went out the room, and someone else came in. Someone female, from the sound of their voice. Was it Hermione? "What about the kids?!" Harry asked, worried. "They're fine. They're with Molly." She responded. Ginny felt Harry nod next to her.

The kids? Whose kids? Must be Victoire. But why would Hermione have been taking care of them? She tried moving her arms and opening her eyes. She found that she couldn't do either.

"I found the healer." Ron announced. "Oh, thank merlin! How is Ginny?" Harry asked. "We've already conducted tests, and we've found out that she has slight amnesia." The healer said.

"What?!" Both Harry and Hermione exclaimed. "Wait, what's amnesia?" Ron asked. "It's when a person can't remember events in their life, particularly after a tragic accident, or trauma." The healer explained.

"You mean like her falling off her broom from 30 feet?!" Harry shouted. The healer nodded. "Yes." "Healer Mason, is there any way to cure it? Potions, or some medicine?" Ron asked. So his name was Healer Mason.

"Sadly, there is no known cure to amnesia. Muggle or Magical. But, once she wakes up, you must find out what she remembers, and find something that would trigger the memories she's lost." Mason said. "Alright." All three of the nodded.

"You have kids, right?" Healer Mason asked Harry. He nodded. "Yes, well, I would advise not letting her see them until you know exactly what she forgot."  "Alright." Harry nodded. "Can I use your floo?" He asked. Healer Mason nodded.

"Clevedon Court!" He called, throwing a pitch of floo powder into the fireplace. "Hello Molly! Um, listen, Ginny might have amnesia, so the healer advises not letting her see the kids, so could you make sure they're in their rooms by the time we're home? We'll be there in a few hours." He explained.

“Our kids are fine, Harry, stop worrying. You only have to worry about yours.” Ron said, grinning. “I love my nephews and my niece, but they’re definitely trouble, just like their parents.” He added. “I’m honestly surprised that you convinced your wife to have a 3rd kid with you, especially after her cursing at you for weeks after being in labor for hours.” Hermione said.

Harry chuckled. “I wore her down eventually.” What?! The man she was about to marry happened to already have a wife and three kids. She tried to open her eyes, and groaned at the effort. Harry heard this and rushed to her side. Her eyelids flew open with difficulty and she sat up painfully. “How dare you?!” She glared at Harry. “W-What?” He stuttered. “What do you mean?” He asked.

“You proposed to me, and now you already have a wife and 3 kids?!” She ranted. “Ginny, love, calm down, please.” He pleaded. “Calm down?! Calm down?! How dare you tell me to calm down?!” She screamed. “Ginny, if you just let me explain-” Harry began. “Yeah, sure, explain how you’ve been cheating on me!” She cut him off.

“You’re my wife!” Harry exclaimed, frustrated. “We have 3 kids together! We’ve been married for the past 15 years!” “Oh.” She whispered. “I’m so sorry, Harry!” She apologized. “You didn’t deserve hearing all that.” She winced as she remembered what she had said. “I love you, okay? I’d never cheat on you.” She nodded and kissed him softly. Harry kissed her back, while Ron made gagging noises in the background, so Hermione glared at him to shut him up.

It proved effective, and she kissed him on the cheek. “Sorry, love, but you were being a bit annoying again.” Hermione explained. Ron chuckled and said, “I know.” He pecked her on the lips and smiled at Harry and Ginny. “We’ll take our leave, yeah? Take good care of her!” Ron stood up and head towards the door. Harry nodded. Hermione followed with a smile. “We’ll see you guys later to pick up our kids.” “Bye.” Harry said softly.

He turned back to face Ginny with a small smile on his face. “How you feelin’?” He asked. “Just fine.” Ginny grinned.

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🛼 For the ask game

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

Thank you for asking, first of all!

Five emojis that describe my latest WIP, that's hard.

I think these emojis describe it: 🤨🥳🥰😁😝

I don't know why I chose these emojis, but I just feel like they fit.

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I wanted to share an accomplishment of mine. I got my first ever wip posted! (not including my bingo fic) It's called Back to the Beginning, and it's now on both FFN and Ao3, under the same username as my tumblr account, so you can read it on either platform!

First chapter's up now! I'm expecting to post every tuesday, but it might not be possible every tuesday. You can expect updates weekly, though!

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🟢 You are still a writer even when you haven't written in a while.

🟢 You are still a writer even when you feel like you aren't writing enough.

🟢 You are still a writer when you feel like your work isn't good.

🟢 You are still a writer when other people don't like your work.

🟢 You are still a writer when you aren't published.

🟢 You are still a writer when you only have works in progress.

🟢 You are still a writer if all you write is fanfiction.