FIC--The Dance (Gen)
Jun. 18th, 2008 01:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ficsbydeenasTitle: The Dance
Pairing; Gen, but mentions Harry and Ginny
Parent Stories: The Unexpected and Presents
Prompter:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
zoltan42
Prompt: You did do two sequels, but there are moments I wouldn't mind seeing. In "Presents" you have Ginny, right before the Father/Daughter dance, guide Harry towards Petunia instead of Molly. What they have to say? How they feel? Another would be Petunia meeting her new niece. One more would be Petunia's good-bye from the reception. "Expectations" has the end of the reception, but no mention of Petunia.
The Dance
After we dance our first dance as husband and wife, there is an announcement that Dad and I will have our own dance. As Harry begins to move toward my mother, I catch him by the arm. He gives me a confused look. I move aside to reveal the woman who raised him and swallowed her pride to be here.
“Dance with her, Harry. For me. For your Mum.”
I was just about ready to leave when the dancing started. It would pain me too much to watch. Lily loved to dance and watching Harry, knowing that my sister wasn't there to dance with him, would only bring tears to my eyes.
During dinner, I had a chance to catch up with Harry a bit, as he made sure I was seated at the table with him and Ginny, her parents, her brother and Hermione. I noticed that Harry was reluctant to take any of the credit for the things he had done in their war. Rather, he would point out the people who had given the ultimate sacrifice instead. It was Ginny who finally explained to me what exactly had happened at Hogwarts.
Ginny is perfect for him. She is passionate about everything: her career as a midwife, her family and most of all, she is passionate about Harry. The way she looks at him, and he at her, almost makes me feel as if I am interrupting a private moment between them. When I first met her, immediately after the ceremony, she was warm and friendly, if not a bit wary of me. I don't blame her. She most likely had heard all the stories of Harry's upbringing and so forth from everyone else. But she was glad that I had chosen to attend and that she was finally able to meet me.
Once dinner finished, the others got up, leaving me alone at the table as preparations for dancing began. The time alone gave me a chance to watch those around me. The Weasley twins were busy doing something in the corner of the garden, each of them wearing identical devious grins. Across from me, at another table, was the small gathering of Harry's friends. I can't remember their names, but every once in a while, one of them raises their head and catch my eye, smiling brightly at me. I know they are only trying to be polite. I don't expect to be a part of this world, nor do I expect them to take me in. And that's fine with me. Whatever role Harry wanted me to have, I'll accept. I have no right to demand anything of him.
On my right, there was a table of Hogwarts professors. The woman in the tartan cloak has her lips pursed tightly and I wonder if she ever cracks a smile. I highly doubt it. Vernon would describe her as 'so uptight that if you gave her a lump of coal, she'd squeeze a diamond out her arse.' A young woman with garish pink hair sits next to the tired looking gentleman. I remember my introduction to them earlier and shake my head. That man looks as if he's my age or even older. The scars and pock-marks on his face make him look much older than what I think he is. He turns toward me and nods his head before turning back to the young woman. The others really don't interest me: the short man, the giant and the crude, gruff man.
Soft, romantic music began from I don't know where and Harry and Ginny move to the center of the dancing area. He took her in his arms and held her close as they swayed to the music. I have to chuckle. It looks like Harry did not, in fact, inherit his mother's grace on the dance floor. Ginny threw her head back in laughter as he stepped on her toes and she took over the lead. After a bit, they stopped and merely held onto one another, resuming their swaying, foreheads pressed together as the spoke quietly to one another. It was the most romantic thing I'd ever witnessed.
Polite applause arose as they finished their dance and someone announced that it was time for the father-daughter dance. Usually at this time, the groom dances with his mother. I choked back tears reminding myself that Harry had no mother in attendance, only an aunt, who for the majority of his life wished he were invisible.
I got up from my chair, unable to contain the emotions that were welling up inside me, and hoped to make a discreet exit. Who would notice if I left, after all? I was just about to step away from the table when I heard her speak and my mouth became dry as cotton wool. I looked up and saw him wear a faint smile on his lips as he made his way toward me.
"Aunt Petunia," he began, his voice rich in its timbre, "will you dance with me?" He held out his hand. If he could do it, why couldn't I?
"Alright." I set my handbag on the table and take his hand, letting him lead me onto the dance floor. A small spattering of claps followed us.
"I'm not very good at this."
"I've noticed," I teased. "Not at all like your mother." His face brightened.
"She…she liked to dance?"
Harry placed a hand on my waist and I took his other hand.
"Very much." He began to move awkwardly to his left. "Harry…stop." He frowned. "One, two, three…one, two, three. Listen to the beat and let it guide your steps. One, two, three….one, two, three."
He closed his eyes and tightened his grip on my waist as his feet moved to the right and then the left. I leaned with him and we began to waltz. Perhaps he wasn't as bad as we thought.
Finally, he opened his eyes, the same eyes that had haunted my dreams for decades and smiled.
"I'm glad you came."
"Are you? Really?" He spun me around.
"Yes. I saw them, too." His eyes began to water. "They've forgiven you and I think I can, too."
"Harry…"
"Please, tell me more about my mother."
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance
Pairing; Gen, but mentions Harry and Ginny
Parent Stories: The Unexpected and Presents
Prompter:
zoltan42Prompt: You did do two sequels, but there are moments I wouldn't mind seeing. In "Presents" you have Ginny, right before the Father/Daughter dance, guide Harry towards Petunia instead of Molly. What they have to say? How they feel? Another would be Petunia meeting her new niece. One more would be Petunia's good-bye from the reception. "Expectations" has the end of the reception, but no mention of Petunia.
After we dance our first dance as husband and wife, there is an announcement that Dad and I will have our own dance. As Harry begins to move toward my mother, I catch him by the arm. He gives me a confused look. I move aside to reveal the woman who raised him and swallowed her pride to be here.
“Dance with her, Harry. For me. For your Mum.”
I was just about ready to leave when the dancing started. It would pain me too much to watch. Lily loved to dance and watching Harry, knowing that my sister wasn't there to dance with him, would only bring tears to my eyes.
During dinner, I had a chance to catch up with Harry a bit, as he made sure I was seated at the table with him and Ginny, her parents, her brother and Hermione. I noticed that Harry was reluctant to take any of the credit for the things he had done in their war. Rather, he would point out the people who had given the ultimate sacrifice instead. It was Ginny who finally explained to me what exactly had happened at Hogwarts.
Ginny is perfect for him. She is passionate about everything: her career as a midwife, her family and most of all, she is passionate about Harry. The way she looks at him, and he at her, almost makes me feel as if I am interrupting a private moment between them. When I first met her, immediately after the ceremony, she was warm and friendly, if not a bit wary of me. I don't blame her. She most likely had heard all the stories of Harry's upbringing and so forth from everyone else. But she was glad that I had chosen to attend and that she was finally able to meet me.
Once dinner finished, the others got up, leaving me alone at the table as preparations for dancing began. The time alone gave me a chance to watch those around me. The Weasley twins were busy doing something in the corner of the garden, each of them wearing identical devious grins. Across from me, at another table, was the small gathering of Harry's friends. I can't remember their names, but every once in a while, one of them raises their head and catch my eye, smiling brightly at me. I know they are only trying to be polite. I don't expect to be a part of this world, nor do I expect them to take me in. And that's fine with me. Whatever role Harry wanted me to have, I'll accept. I have no right to demand anything of him.
On my right, there was a table of Hogwarts professors. The woman in the tartan cloak has her lips pursed tightly and I wonder if she ever cracks a smile. I highly doubt it. Vernon would describe her as 'so uptight that if you gave her a lump of coal, she'd squeeze a diamond out her arse.' A young woman with garish pink hair sits next to the tired looking gentleman. I remember my introduction to them earlier and shake my head. That man looks as if he's my age or even older. The scars and pock-marks on his face make him look much older than what I think he is. He turns toward me and nods his head before turning back to the young woman. The others really don't interest me: the short man, the giant and the crude, gruff man.
Soft, romantic music began from I don't know where and Harry and Ginny move to the center of the dancing area. He took her in his arms and held her close as they swayed to the music. I have to chuckle. It looks like Harry did not, in fact, inherit his mother's grace on the dance floor. Ginny threw her head back in laughter as he stepped on her toes and she took over the lead. After a bit, they stopped and merely held onto one another, resuming their swaying, foreheads pressed together as the spoke quietly to one another. It was the most romantic thing I'd ever witnessed.
Polite applause arose as they finished their dance and someone announced that it was time for the father-daughter dance. Usually at this time, the groom dances with his mother. I choked back tears reminding myself that Harry had no mother in attendance, only an aunt, who for the majority of his life wished he were invisible.
I got up from my chair, unable to contain the emotions that were welling up inside me, and hoped to make a discreet exit. Who would notice if I left, after all? I was just about to step away from the table when I heard her speak and my mouth became dry as cotton wool. I looked up and saw him wear a faint smile on his lips as he made his way toward me.
"Aunt Petunia," he began, his voice rich in its timbre, "will you dance with me?" He held out his hand. If he could do it, why couldn't I?
"Alright." I set my handbag on the table and take his hand, letting him lead me onto the dance floor. A small spattering of claps followed us.
"I'm not very good at this."
"I've noticed," I teased. "Not at all like your mother." His face brightened.
"She…she liked to dance?"
Harry placed a hand on my waist and I took his other hand.
"Very much." He began to move awkwardly to his left. "Harry…stop." He frowned. "One, two, three…one, two, three. Listen to the beat and let it guide your steps. One, two, three….one, two, three."
He closed his eyes and tightened his grip on my waist as his feet moved to the right and then the left. I leaned with him and we began to waltz. Perhaps he wasn't as bad as we thought.
Finally, he opened his eyes, the same eyes that had haunted my dreams for decades and smiled.
"I'm glad you came."
"Are you? Really?" He spun me around.
"Yes. I saw them, too." His eyes began to water. "They've forgiven you and I think I can, too."
"Harry…"
"Please, tell me more about my mother."
But I'd of had to miss the dance
