Title: Through the Looking Glass
Word Count: 2127
Summary: Harry finds a way to keep in touch with Ginny when they're apart...which is rather often.
Author/Artist's Notes: I hope this fits your request. My brain wasn't sharp enough to get into figurative mirrors, while Neville and the Weasleys went MIA. Thanks to my lovely beta LunaLovePotter.
"Where is he? He said he would be here," Ginny asked Hermione impatiently at Platform 9 ¾ the morning of September first.
With a reassuring hand on Ginny's shoulder, Hermione answered, "Ginny, he will be here. He won't let you down."
Ginny checked her watch again, a gift from her parents on her seventeenth birthday, willing time to stop and Harry to appear. She hadn't seen him since her party, when he promised he'd see her off on the train on the first; he reiterated his intentions in a couple letters that he'd sent as well.
"I know," she said with a sigh. "It's just that…well, I could use a good snogging." Ginny turned away and felt her face warm. Her relationship with Harry, which they'd straightened out at the end of June, had taken a more physical turn lately. "It's been a while."
"I know. I haven't seen Ron much, either," Hermione answered wistfully. Ginny rolled her eyes at her friend's comment.
"You know I'm right behind you, don't you?" Ron asked. He, at least, was able to get away from training and accompany the two of them to the station. He stepped forward and put an arm around Hermione. "He'll be here, Gin. He had something to do quick, that's all."
Great, she thought to herself, he'll be late I won't get to see him until November. She watched Ron and Hermione walk away toward a group of friends and then turned toward the brick wall that held the magical barrier.
The whistle of the train blew, signalling five minutes until departure. People began scurrying onto the train and parents began hugging and kissing their children. Someone bumped Ginny's right shoulder and she turned to glare at them; she was not in the mood for being knocked off her feet today. She took a deep breath and picked up her bag, resigning herself to the fact that Harry wasn't going to make it.
She stopped at Harry's voice and walked toward him, her steps quickening. He swept her into his arms and kissed her quickly.
"Sorry I'm late. I had to get this ready," he said as he handed her a square of tissue paper. "Just open it quick. I don't know if I'll always make it to Hogsmeade, so I thought this would help."
She unwrapped the little package to find a little mirror. Looking up, she asked the inevitable question in silence.
"It's from the two-way mirror at Aberforth's. I have one, too. If you want to talk, just say, 'Find Harry,' and it'll vibrate and get warm, like the DA Galleons, you know?" He smiled proudly at his creation. "And if I need you, it'll do the same on your end."
"Brilliant!" She flung herself at him and savoured the feel of being in his arms. She really would have preferred a long, drawn out snog in front of everyone, but there wasn't time. "That's why you were late?" She bit her lower lip to keep from choking up.
"I had to finish it."
"Ginny!!" Hermione yelled from the train. "Hurry up!"
"I don't want to go," Ginny admitted, her stomach knotting up inside her.
"You'll be fine," he answered, reaching up to touch her cheek. Harry leaned down and kissed her again, firmly and deliberately. Her knees felt like jelly. "Go," he said against her lips.
As the whistle peeled through the station, Ginny turned away and took three leaping steps onto the train as it began to chug away. She held onto the rail and waved back at him until the station was far behind her. With a last look back, she walked toward the compartment she had picked out with Hermione earlier. Before she could slide the door open, she felt the mirror warm and vibrate in her hand. Lifting it up, she smiled as she saw Harry's face.
"Hi," she said.
"I love you."
Ginny ran across the Entrance Hall, up the six flights of stairs and impatiently waited for the Fat Lady to open the door. Despite the victory celebration that greeted her, she had no time to join in.
"Ginny! Brilliant flying!"
"Have a Butterbeer!"
"Hey, wasn't that Gwenog Jones at the match?"
"Sorry, everyone! Important call to make!" she called, making her way up the stairs, pausing once to gather her breath after the second landing. "Never run up those steps again, Ginny," she told herself.
Once she reached the seventh years girls' dormitory, she flung her Quidditch kit onto the floor next to her trunk and began stripping off her sweaty clothes. Standing in her bra and knickers, she cast a cleansing charm on herself before redressing in a pair of jeans and a purple jumper.
"Darling, are you sure? Purple?" came the snarky voice of the mirror on the wall.
Ginny turned toward the mirror, with an irritated expression. "Did I ask you?"
"Maybe if you did, your fashion sense would be a bit more modern. Homespun isn't in the magazines, honey."
Ginny aimed her wand at the mirror, blasting the wall and sending the offending mirror to the floor without breaking it. "Thank me later. I don't need seven years of bad luck, especially now."
She flung herself onto her four poster bed with a wide smile on her face. Butterflies fluttered inside her stomach. So much had happened in the last half hour, and there was only one person she wanted to share the news with first.
"Find Harry!" she practically screamed at the small mirror that lay on her bed. He wasn't able to come to the match today because of a field training test. At first, she was angry but once the owl from the Harpies arrived, she was relieved she didn't have to fly in front of both Harry and Gwenog Jones.
Seconds ticked by and Ginny grew impatient. She picked up the mirror and repeated the spell, even though she knew it wouldn't hurry Harry's answer.
"Did you win?" Harry asked eagerly. His hair was plastered to his head, either from sweat or from a recent shower.
Ginny beamed with pride. "We killed them! 350 to 90!"
"Brilliant! Did you even let anyone else touch the Quaffle?"
"Are you calling me a Quaffle-hog?" Ginny asked with a laugh.
"What did Gwenog say?" he asked eagerly.
"Don't you want to hear all the details about the match?"
"Oh, and I suppose you didn't run up all the stairs and skip the celebration party, either."
Ginny rolled her eyes with amusement and her excitement began to bubble out. "They want me, Harry! They want me come for trials in June!"
Harry's mouth widened into a brilliant smile and she wished he were there to hold and kiss her. She missed him terribly.
"I'm so proud of you!"
"I just hope I don't embarrass myself."
"You'll do great and I absolutely will be there. I'm your biggest fan."
"Are you at least safe?" Ginny asked, wiping a tear from her cheek.
"For now," Harry answered, his eyes flitting around him warily. A red flash came from overhead.
"What was that?"
"Nothing bad, I swear. It's a signal from one of my team members," he tried to reassure her. Deep down, he knew it was a bad idea calling her while on assignment, especially one that was fast becoming a standoff between Aurors and a faction of Dark wizards. But tonight, he needed to see and speak with her, even if it was through the mirror. They'd been apart for too long; Ginny was on the World Cup team and he was rising fast in the Auror department.
"I hate this, Harry."
"You in danger. I would've thought you'd enjoy the quiet, boring life."
Harry snorted. "You'd rather me be boring and working at the Leaky?" They'd had this conversation before. She'd be worried when he left, wondering aloud whether it was all worth the hassle. He'd counter by saying it was instinct for him to defend those that needed help and making sure justice was served. "I'll be fine. Ron's here and you know he won't let me down and I won't let him down, either. Besides, he has some new strategy worked out to end it. He's in chess mode."
That made Ginny smile. Ron was a brilliant strategist and could always see three moves ahead, whether in chess or in a wand fight. That's what made his best friend a top Auror.
"So your fate is in my brother's hands," she said, wearing a wry smile.
"And my heart's in yours. I'll be back as soon as I can."
Harry smiled as he saw her expression relax. "And when I come back—I don't care if your mum screams like a banshee—we're going to the ministry and getting married. I've waited too long."
Ginny's jaw dropped. They'd talked about marriage before, but their lives never seemed to give them a moment's rest. But now, he was up for a promotion that would decrease his field assignments and allow for a more normal home life. He was ready for the next step.
"Ginny? Are you alright?"
"Yes! Yes, I'm fine, and YES, let's get married!"
Ginny groaned again, turning toward the bedside table to her left. The sound wasn't loud, but it was more annoying than anything—a low, rumbling noise that reminded her of—
"Harry?" she said into the glowing mirror, with an obscured view of his face. "What's wrong?"
"Ha-a-a-y. I loff you."
She groaned and rolled her eyes. "You woke me up because you're drunk?"
"No' drunk. Happy," he squeaked as he closed his eyes. "Happy Harry!"
Ginny furrowed her brows as she tried to figure out what was going on behind him. All she could see was his face at an awkward angle, almost as if the mirror was propped up against something.
"What are you doing? Move the mirror. I can't see what's going on?"
"Don' need t' see. Yer bootiful, Gin," he said in a husky voice and grimaced.
Her eyes widened. She knew that look. She normally loved seeing that look, but not at 3:30 in the morning and not when she was in Cardiff while he was in Dover.
"Shh...no talkee...jus' look at me." The mirror wobbled a bit and she knew he was close. "Miss...you...bad---Guh!" The mirror slipped and Harry's face disappeared, giving her a view of his abdomen, the soft hairs looking like blades of grass from her perspective. In a mere tick of the clock, her view was obscured by a spattering of silvery spunk, making her jaw drop in disbelief.
"Harry! HARRY!" she shouted at the mirror, but by the gentle rise and fall of the view from the mirror, it was apparent that he'd fallen asleep. Ginny shook her head with a smile. "Typical."
"Hurry up, Harry! She needs you!" Hermione shouted into the mirror.
"He better get his sorry arse in here soon!" Ginny said through a contraction on the other side of the room.
"I'm trying, really. The Floos are backed up because of the holiday!" came Harry's muffled voice.
"Give it to me, Hermione!" Ginny shouted. "Now!" Without argument, the mirror was thrust into Ginny's hand. "Harry James Pott—ER!"
"Mrs. Potter, relax, please. You're not helping things by getting angry," the mediwitch soothed. "Just put the mirror down and concentrate on your breathing." She reached over and tried to prise the mirror from Ginny's hand.
"Shut up! Harry, play the damned 'Chosen One' card! I'm having your bay—BEE!" Another contraction ripped through her. "Please, Harry," she begged, beginning to lose control of her emotions.
"It's my turn. I'll be there soon!" The mirror became smoky and Harry's face disappeared, becoming a normal mirror once again.
Hermione walked over to the bed and stroked Ginny's sweaty brow. "Shouldn't be long now," she cooed.
"I want Harry," she whined. "Why did I let him go into work today?"
Ginny bore down and gave a hard push, feeling the baby move within her. She looked at the clock and bit her lip. She wanted Harry here to see his baby born.
"Mrs. Potter, just a few more pushes," chimed in the mediwitch.
"Not without Harry!"
"I don't think we can wait. The baby's crowning."
The door of the delivery room flew open and Harry slid inside, his glasses askew and his hair a wild mess.
"Did I miss anything?"
Ginny gave him a quick smile. "Not yet. Get over here!"
He quickly got to her side, held her hand and kissed the top of her head. "Let's have a baby."