Inner Demons - Chapter 51
Title: Inner Demons (sequel to Starting Over)
Chapter 51/60: Making it work
Author:
serendipity_50
Pairings: H/G, R/Hr
Warnings: Het sex, mild profanity, angst
Word Count this chapter: about 9800
Era: Post-DH Pre-Epilogue
Disclaimer: The characters belong to JK Rowling. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment only.
Story Summary: Relationships are hard under normal circumstances, but Harry and Ginny don’t have the luxury of living normal lives...
Chapter Summary: Happily ever after turns out to be hard work.
Author's Notes: Happy Halloween! Here's your treat. Chapter 52 is with Min and I've gotten a start on Chapter 53, so we're probably set for posting through December. I'm thinking we'll be finished before we get to 60. Thanks for your help Ash and Min.
Harry slept little, afraid he’d wake to find himself in some godforsaken hellhole where he’d done nothing more than dream this wonderful, miraculous day. Instead, he lay quietly, listening to Ginny breathe, letting the soft tha-thump of her heart against his chest lull him into a peace he hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever.
Rubbing his nose against her silky hair, he inhaled deeply and filled his senses with the honeyed floral fragrance that could make him drunk for days. She stirred in her sleep, and he ran a soothing hand down her back, molding her more tightly against him. Merlin, her skin was soft. But he refused to let his hands to wander too much-she obviously needed to sleep and he didn’t want to make a move that might remind her of all the reasons she should push him away-even though he gave his eyes permission to roam at will.
Grateful that they hadn’t bothered pulling the blankets over them, he cast a silent warming charm and Summoned his glasses so he could take his time studying the creamy freckle-dusted skin clinging to him like a spider silk. Her body was achingly familiar, yet different… more rounded and soft, more womanly than he remembered, yet still lean and taut. And there! There it was, peeking from the curve of her hip, the strawberry birthmark that looked like puckered lips begging to be kissed. His mouth watered again at the invitation. It was the first place he’d start on his quest to taste every inch of her.
Harry breathed in another lungful of her flowery scent and held it a moment before heaving a sigh from the depth of his soul. Did she know what power she held over him? Two years apart hadn’t diminished that in the slightest. From the moment he’d seen her at his homecoming party at the Burrow, he’d fallen back under her spell as if he’d never been away. But this… he’d completely forgotten this explosion of emotion, this overwhelming sense of completion, as if his body, heart, and soul had finally found the home they’d been seeking.
Oh, he was so buggered.
He’d never intended to be here again. This morning, when she’d opened the door at Andromeda’s, he should’ve Disapparated on the spot. But once he’d invited himself to go shopping and convinced himself that it couldn’t hurt to relax just a bit while they were surrounded by Muggles, he should’ve realized the final battle was lost. His resistance at the very end-hell, from the very beginning-was laughable. The instant he set foot back in England his fate had been sealed. But now that his surrender was complete, he had no intention of escaping, not unless she banished him once and for all… in which case, he might literally vanish.
The inevitable knot of worry began to build in his chest. Anything this blissful couldn’t possibly last. His life just didn’t work like that. Even if Ginny didn’t wake up horrified and send him packing, they’d still have to deal with the rest of the world sooner rather than later.
He couldn’t even begin to think about her family’s reaction. George, for one, wouldn’t make this easy. And the rest of them might have welcomed him back into the family, but if they thought him a threat to Ginny, their open arms might reach for wands instead.
But even if the family accepted them as a couple, their worst challenge would be the press. Today’s encounter with Jinks and Skeeter had been just the start. Once word got out that he and Ginny really were together-if he even dared dream this was more than an unintentional one-off-the reporters would multiply like the cursed treasure in the Lestranges' vault.
In a burst of protectiveness, Harry wrapped her in his arms and rolled them over so his body covered but didn’t crush her. She wouldn’t appreciate his unconscious attempt to shield her from the coming storm, but he couldn’t help it. Now that she was his again-if that’s really what this was… or even if it wasn’t-he was determined to keep her safe.
She moved against him, and he grew still, hoping that he hadn’t wakened her, but at the moist whisper of lips at his throat, he slid down to offer his mouth to hers. With a quiet moan, she tangled her tongue with his and her fingers in his hair.
After a bit, they ended the kiss with gentle nips. She pulled back to look into his eyes and smiled. “Hi.”
His grin stretched wide. “Hi.” He took his glasses off and tossed them over his shoulder toward the night table. This close, he didn’t really need them to see her face and they might get in the way… if things went the way he hoped.
Her fingers threaded through his hair and down his neck, leaving a trail of gooseflesh. “So, not a dream, then,” she whispered, a look of wonder making the gold flecks in her eyes seem to glow.
“Better than a dream,” he whispered back, awe and desire roaring in his veins.
But then her brows dipped and worry flickered across her face. “But is it real?”
He kissed away the tiny crease of concern and dropped his forehead to hers. He had no doubt what she was asking. “It’s real. I’m not going anywhere.”
He felt the worry crease reappear. “But why, Harry? Why did you fight so hard?”
His stomach plunged. So they were already there, the moment of truth. Unable to bear her searching look any longer, he closed his eyes and rolled onto his back. How could he explain what had been going through his head for months… years, even? It had all made so much sense at the time, but now he wasn’t sure he could sort through it himself, much less make her understand.
He turned his head to look at her. She had pulled the pillow down under her cheek and lay watching him, waiting. When his eyes drifted without permission to the pale mounds only partially covered by her arm, he immediately Summoned the blanket from the foot of the bed to cover them. She failed to completely hide a wicked little smirk, but he forced his eyes upward again-as much as he was tempted to delay the inevitable, now was not the time to get distracted.
“When I left,” he began quietly, “I couldn’t get rid of that image of you standing like a ghost on the stairs, begging me and George not to fight. I couldn’t bear the thought of what I’d done to you-” When she started to protest, he pressed a finger to her lips. “Let me say this before I lose my nerve.” She nodded and he dropped his hand away but remained facing her so he could watch her face. They were no longer touching-he wondered what that meant-but he couldn’t close the distance or he’d be too tempted to make promises he couldn’t keep.
“When I came back, you can’t imagine how surprised I was that you and your family had forgiven me and, even more, that you seemed to want me back. I never expected that in a million years. But I couldn’t forget what I’d done in the first place.” When her expression turned confused, he hurried on, rushing to get it all out. “You’d made me promise to tell you when I would be in danger and I broke that promise straight away. I honestly didn’t expect that particular meeting to turn into such a disaster, but I was stupid to make such a promise in the first place. I can’t predict from one minute to the next what might happen. Things can turn dangerous in the blink of an eye.” He paused when she closed her eyes to hide the flash of fear in them.
His gut churned. As much as he hated seeing her reaction, he had to do this. They could never make a go of it if she didn’t understand exactly what she was getting into-if she hadn’t changed her mind already. Steeling himself against the temptation to pull her close, he continued. “You were quite clear that day in the Room of Requirement. You said you couldn’t handle the danger I was in as an Auror. Ginny, I…”
She was watching him again, the furrow between her brows deep and her eyes full of concern. But this might be the only chance he’d ever have to say it. “Ginny, I love you. I love you… but I can’t walk away. Too much is at stake. If Dolohov’s allowed to gain a foothold in Britain, or secure even more of the Continent, our whole way of life could be destroyed. Riddle was evil and completely insane. Dolohov’s evil, but he’s more cunning. And going after him means that I’ll be in danger because, when the time comes, I’m not sending someone else to face off with him.”
Her face went deathly pale as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Using every ounce of his willpower to resist the urge to gather her into his arms, he rolled onto his back to put more distance between them. This choice had to be hers. “That’s why I fought this so hard. I can’t do that to you again, Gin. I won’t do it again.”
He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. As the silence stretched, he threw his arm across his eyes and resigned himself to the inevitable. His moment of bliss was over.
***
Ginny wanted to cry. Harry’s words had summoned every last one of her demons, and from his reaction, she’d done a piss poor job of hiding it. He might have said he wasn’t going anywhere, but if he thought she would fall apart again, he’d be gone in a heartbeat. She had better say something, and fast, or she’d lose what was likely her final chance with him.
“Harry,” she whispered. When he didn’t move, she stroked his arm. “Harry, look at me. Please.”
As he reluctantly uncovered his face and tilted his head just enough to see her, the candlelight glinted off the charmed Galleon at his neck, reinforcing his words and making her want to scream, Why? Why does it have to be you? But she didn’t dare say it out loud. She knew what he’d say and what he’d do and right now she had to convince him to stay so they could fight through those demons together.
“Harry, my… illness… it wasn’t your fault.”
He pressed his lips together and looked back at the dark canopy overhead.
“It wasn’t,” she insisted, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice. “Like I told you downstairs, it was my fault for taking on too much, for not dealing with it sooner. But I’m better now.” Well, that much was true. She wasn’t completely free of her terrors, but she was worlds away from where she had been when he’d left. “The attacks… yeah, they set me back a bit, but I’ve been working with a Mind Healer and it’s better. I’m better.” He still wouldn’t look at her, so she pushed up on her elbow and leaned over him. “Harry, please. I… I’m not going to just let it go this time. And I don’t want to let you go, either.”
He did look at her then, his eyes searching hers, like he wasn’t sure if he could believe her.
She forced the anxiety from her mind and allowed only hope to show on her face. “Please. I want us to try again.”
And then, finally… finally, after a heart-stopping eternity, he left off his searching and rolled over, skimming his fingers over her cheek on their way to burying themselves in her hair and pulling her close for a gentle kiss. Not the soul-branding fire of earlier, but a gentle claiming of lips and heart that melted the little mound of ice that had started forming in the pit of her stomach.
“Are you sure?” he murmured against her mouth, then leaned back to look into her eyes again. His vivid bottle green had narrowed to a small ring surrounding deep, dark pools of emotion. Drowning as she was in their depths, she almost missed his next words. “It won’t be easy, you know. Today was just the start.”
Today. Reporters. She’d almost forgotten. With a sigh, she closed her eyes. Harry’s withdrawal was immediate and more than physical as he apparently misinterpreted her response and rolled onto his back again.
Oh, no you don’t!
Before he’d got fully settled, she was on top of him, straddling his hips, carding her fingers through his hair, pressing kisses along his jaw to his mouth. His hands cupped her breasts, calloused thumbs rubbing circles around her nipples in an achingly familiar pattern. The kiss heated, and for endless minutes their conversation was silent, lips and hands getting reacquainted with secret places that drew gasps and moans and incoherent pleas until they reached a crescendo that sent Ginny’s heart soaring. How could she ever have willingly given this up?
As they snuggled together, catching their breaths and exchanging nipping kisses, Ginny’s stomach gave a mighty roar.
Harry chuckled. “Erm… are you trying to tell me something?”
“No?” She grimaced at the questioning tone, but quickly whimpered and clutched at him when he began to untangle himself from her and the blanket. “Don’t go.”
He pushed her back into the pillows with a kiss that melted her mind and body into a puddle, and then, almost before she realized he’d broken contact, he scrambled off the bed to pull on his jeans. Desire sparked at every nerve ending when she realized that he hadn’t put on boxers first-Merlin, did he do that every day?-but she shook away the distraction and did her best to maintain her pout as she sat up and crossed her arms, deliberately putting her assets on display.
“And just where do you think you’re going?” she asked.
“Oh, erm…” Appropriately distracted, he paused with his second foot halfway into the leg of his jeans and nearly toppled over before catching himself on the bedpost. He struggled to push his foot through the leg opening then, with a little jump, finally got the stupid jeans pulled up. As he fastened them, he leaned over to drop a kiss on her mouth and one on top of each mound of skin above her arms. “Can’t have you passing out from starvation, can we? You’ll need your strength for later, yeah?”
“What? You’re going down to the kitchen? Now? Why not just call Kreacher?”
Harry frowned. “Do you really want Kreacher to see you like that?” When her face flamed, he smirked. “I didn’t think so. I don’t want him to, either. Or anyone else, for that matter.” Ginny’s heart fluttered even as jealousy stabbed through it-who else, besides Katya, had seen him in all his glory?
“So,” Harry’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Are you staying here to rest up for later?” He waggled he eyebrows comically. “Or are you coming down to watch the master chef at work?”
“You can cook?” Ginny got out of bed and bent over to pick Harry’s t-shirt off the floor. When she pulled her head through the neck hole, she found him goggling at her, glasses askew on his face. She giggled at his disappointed scowl when she pulled the shirt down over her hips. “Oi! Master chef!” He jerked his eyes up to hers. “Since when can you cook?”
With another regretful look at the hem of his shirt brushing her thighs, he sighed and held the door for her to pass through, then followed her down the stairs. “That’s about the only good thing I got out of living with the Dursleys. I can put together a halfway decent meal.”
While he cooked, they talked about Ginny’s start with the Harpies and the places Harry had traveled and a host of other “safe” topics, always skirting the touchy things that Ginny knew they’d eventually have to face. But for now, she needed the joy of just being with him, of watching the muscles ripple across his bare back as he worked, of basking in the happy and seductive smiles he sent her way every few minutes, and the frequent touches and kisses and hugs they shared as they moved around each other while she “helped.” Oh, how she’d dreamed of, this intimacy, this contentment. What she wouldn’t give to be able to stay right here with him and never have to face the rest of the world again.
The food was simple but delicious, and provided as much entertainment as nourishment. She was never again going to be able to eat bangers and mash with a straight face… or dry knickers.
Once they’d gone back upstairs and entwined like vines on the bed, Harry popped her little bubble of bliss. “So, where do we go from here? Things are going to go mad once this gets out.”
Ginny blew out a sharp breath and pushed her head off of his shoulder so she could see his face. “Can we just stay here? Never go out again?”
He smiled. “Don’t I wish! But I think that would be a bit hard to explain to your family. And Gwenog. And Robards. And the Minister.”
With a huff, she flopped back onto the pillow. “I know. I just hate that we even have to think about the press. Don’t look like that,” she cut in when he frowned. “I learnt to handle them a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean that I like it.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“But seriously…” She pushed back up onto her elbow so she could look into his eyes. “Can we keep this a secret, just for a little while? You’re right-once this gets out, we’ll hardly have any peace.” She searched his face for a moment, then cupped his cheek and kissed him as if she were pouring her entire being into him. “I’ve missed you so much. I want to keep you to myself for a while. Get to know you before they start trying to tear us apart again.”
She could read in Harry’s eyes the memories of the way the whole world seemed to believe it had a right to their privacy and took every opportunity to distribute rumors and lies to make their lives hell. He gave her a sad smile. “Yeah, they will, won’t they? But what about your family?”
Ginny grimaced a bit. “I don’t want to tell them yet, either.” At Harry’s raised eyebrows, she sighed. “As much as I love them, and I know they love me… us… I just don’t feel like having to deal with their… love just yet. Mum’ll be planning a wed-erm, making plans, and George… well, George will be George, and the rest of them…” She fell back onto the pillow with a groan. “I don’t really have to explain this to you, do I?”
Harry smiled and rolled over to kiss her temple. “No. And, you’re right. We should take some time to get reacquainted. But you know we’ll have to pretend that nothing’s changed, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Ginny sighed. “We’ll definitely have to go about our usual business. But keeping up that dance we’ve been doing around each other in front of the family will be hard. You’ll just have to do that acting thing you did yesterday for Jinks and Skeeter.”
“That?” Harry smirked. “That was no act. That was me letting myself do what I’d been putting on an act to hide since I got back.” He kissed her. “Felt bloody wonderful, too. Going back to the other will be torture now. Maybe I should just get caught up in work and stay away?”
Ginny snorted. “Right. Hermione would never pick up on that. Besides, you’ve been friendlier lately. Maybe she won’t notice that things have really changed?”
“Dream on,” Harry said with a laugh. “I’m going to have to work out a way to get out of our Friday night dinner, too. Coming up with a believable excuse is going to be nearly impossible.”
Ginny stroked her fingers through his hair and gave him a kiss. “You’ll think of something.”
He returned the kiss… several times. “Not right now, though. I’ve got other things on my mind,” he murmured, tossing his glasses back onto the night table and leaving a trail with his lips down to her birthmark.
***
Harry rose slowly back to consciousness, blinking into the grey morning light creeping through the crack in the curtains at the window. Even though he couldn’t have got more than three hours of sleep, he couldn’t remember ever feeling more rested and relaxed, utterly boneless… well, except for maybe that one part of him, nestled in the cleft of her cute little bum, that felt like nothing but bone. He couldn’t help tightening his arm around her waist just a bit, aligning himself more securely against her, but being careful not to wake her. She looked so beautiful, so peaceful. He wished they could stay right here, just like this, forever.
Unfortunately, he was going to have to get up soon. Aside from the fact that he really needed to piss, he also needed to put in an appearance at the Ministry and the Austrian Field Headquarters, at the very least. And Ginny was planning to go and visit the children later. His mind was drifting through their plans for keeping the world ignorant when Ginny hummed a sleepy good morning and wiggled against him, banishing every thought from his head.
Some time later he forced himself up to shower and by the time he was dressed, Ginny had burrowed so far into her nest of blankets that only a tangle of fiery hair was visible. Harry stared in wonder, a goofy grin on his face as he snapped his wand into his holster. She was really here. In his bed. Curled around his pillow. Merlin, he hated to leave her. But he needed to go. He was late already and if he didn’t get moving he might not go at all. How was he ever going to get through the day?
Leaning over, he dropped a kiss atop her head and stole a last whiff of her intoxicating scent, but before he could straighten, she pulled down the blanket and tilted her face for a proper kiss. He obliged-more than obliged, his kiss morphing from ‘goodbye’ to ‘hello’ with lightning speed. When she gave his shoulder a little push, he growled a protest and plunged his fingers into her hair so he could shift his lips to her jaw and trail kisses down her neck. God, she tasted so sweet! Just like the irresistible flowery scent that drew him like a honeybee.
“You need to go,” she whispered.
Harry found it hard to listen when she angled her head to give him better access. “Don’t want to,” he murmured against her throat.
Whimpering, she arched into his other hand that had wormed its way beneath the blanket. Her voice came in strangled spurts. “Don’t… want you to… either… but…” He quickly moved his mouth to swallow her words until she shoved a little harder on his chest. “Harry,” she gasped as he latched onto the soft skin below her ear and danced his fingers over her most sensitive place. “Her-Hermione… looking… for you.”
Ginny was right. Hermione really would come looking if he didn’t get moving, but how could he stop now when Ginny was making those delightful little panting noises in the back of her throat and squirming frantically against his hand? He refused to leave her hanging.
She mewled and arched and clenched her thighs around his hand, then collapsed panting back into the blankets and pillows. Harry gave her a tender kiss on the lips and on the forehead.
She grabbed his arm as he straightened. “I can help you with that,” she said in a hoarse whisper, nodding at his obvious erection.
He pushed away the temptation. “I’m late, remember?”
She poked out her bottom lip, reminding him of how Summers’ girl had done at the pub… was it really weeks ago? Harry had thought the pout silly then, but now he saw the appeal and bent down to take a taste. Yes, very nice, indeed.
Before Ginny could entice him further, he straightened again and stepped back. “I really do need to go if we’re going to keep this secret.”
Her sigh sounded like it came from her toes. “I know.”
“You’ll be here when I get back?” Damn, he hadn’t meant to sound so needy.
She snuggled back around his pillow and nodded. “Don’t be late, yeah?”
“Like I am now?” he said with a cheeky grin.
She nodded around a yawn. Harry forced his feet to start moving toward the door, although he kept facing the bed where Ginny was already drifting off again. He wanted to brand the picture onto his brain, just in case she came to her senses while he was gone and this did turn out to be a surreal one-off.
When Harry reached the kitchen, he took a few moments to dig deep within himself. Nearly six months had passed since he’d last used the undercover skills honed to keep him alive during his years on the continent, and he hoped the lack of practice hadn’t put them out of reach. Even though this wasn’t a life-or-death situation, he was going to need every one of those techniques to hide his giddy happiness from the world. He and Ginny needed this time for themselves; he simply had to make sure everyone believed nothing had changed.
His biggest challenges were going to be Ron, Hermione, and Summers. They knew him better than anyone and were keen enough observers to pick up on even the smallest slip. But Ron would be in training, and Harry could avoid spending too much time with either Hermione or Summers if he went to visit all of the field bases. That might be the best excuse for missing supper tonight, too.
So… who should he be today? Hermione had sent him away yesterday because he’d been fairly volatile about the disappearance of the Austrian village. He still wasn’t happy about it, but his day away should have calmed him somewhat… that meant grouchy and determined, like he was keeping his temper on a tight rein, would probably work. Now he just had to get his lips to understand that goofy grins were not part of the act.
Grabbing an apple from the bowl on the table, he set his face into a stern mask and Flooed to the Ministry.
Hermione was sitting at the conference table with her face in a book when Harry strode into the office. He grumbled a short “Morning” and turned his back on her to pour a mug of coffee from the urn on the credenza just inside the door.
“You’re late.”
“Your point?” he snarled, throwing a glare over his shoulder for good measure. So far, so good, but he was still struggling to keep his thoughts from straying to the image of Ginny curled in his bed. Keeping his movements sharp, he moved his mug to his desk and started flipping through his mail, casting only the briefest glance at Hermione’s book. “Find anything?” It came out as a tight bark. Good.
Before she could respond, Summers sauntered in and flopped into the chair in front of Harry’s desk.
“You’re late,” Harry growled, ignoring Hermione’s exasperated huff.
“Your point?” Summers asked with a cheeky grin, then tipped his head back to look at Hermione nearly upside down. “Find anything?”
With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, she dropped her book open on the table with a bit more force than necessary. “As a matter of fact, I think I have.”
Harry’s mind instantly snapped to attention. He and Summers converged to look at the book over Hermione’s shoulders. She cast an inexplicable glare at Summers, who threw a surprised glance at Harry, who scowled as he scalded his tongue on his first sip of hot coffee.
For reasons Harry didn’t understand, Hermione gave an irritated shake of her head before launching into her explanation. “Because we were able to inspect the cloaking spells on the Austrian village before they had time to become fully integrated,” she said, “I’ve determined that they are most likely generated by a talisman. Or, rather, a network of talismans that interact to create a sort of woven dome over the village-like a net weighted down around the edges.”
“Looks like it should have some weak points, then,” Harry said, scanning the diagram in the book on the table.
Hermione tapped her chin with a frown. “Or it could mean that using multiple talismans would reinforce it considerably.”
Harry set his mug down and pulled the book closer. “But if it was going to have a weak point, where would it be?”
Summers leaned between Harry and Hermione to tap the top of the glowing dome of crisscrossed lines. “There, most likely.”
“Possibly,” Hermione said. “Or it could be around the bottom at the halfway point between talismans. And I’m not even completely certain that this is what they’re using. They could have based whatever it is on something like this, but strengthened it by layering several types of cloaking spells over or under it. We’ll need to run a few tests to know for sure.”
“How do we do that?” Harry asked, and for the next hour, Hermione gave him and Summers a detailed tutorial on analysis techniques for more than half a dozen different types of cloaking spells. Paying attention to a Hermione-lecture proved more difficult than usual since Harry’s mind had much more thrilling places to wander, but he gritted his teeth and made himself focus, especially with Summers watching him a little too closely for comfort.
“Okay,” Harry said when she seemed to be winding down. “We should go and get the teams started on these.”
Hermione shook her head. “I need to stay here today. I’ve several more things to look up and I want to talk to a couple of people in the Department of Mysteries.”
Harry sent a questioning look at Summers, who nodded his agreement to come along. “All right, then. We’ll get going. Listen,” he added as Hermione grabbed another book from the towering stack at the end of the table. “I’ll probably be late getting back tonight and I’m sure I won’t be fit company. Let’s just skip supper this week.”
He forced his face to remain passive when Hermione raised her eyebrows and shook her head. “Harry, we don’t mind waiting for you. I’ll want to hear how it goes today and, besides, it just won’t seem like Friday without you.”
Harry rolled his eyes in an effort at exasperation. “Hermione, the world won’t come to an end if we don’t get together tonight. You’ve worked late every night this week. Why don’t you and Ron just take this evening for yourselves? Make a date of it?” When her eyes lit up and she started chewing on her lip-a sure sign she liked that idea-he took one final shot. “And anyway, if the tests turn up anything interesting, I might just stay over at one of the bases. I can catch you up at the Weasleys’ on Sunday, if I don’t see you here tomorrow.”
Lip still caught between her teeth she frowned. Uh-oh. That last might have been overkill.
“I don’t know, Harry. If you find something interesting enough to stay-”
“I’ll let you know,” he cut her off before she got rolling. “Meanwhile, just… spend the evening with your husband. But don’t tell me any of the details, yeah?” he added with a fierce scowl and a dramatic shudder.
Ten minutes and three Apparition jumps later, Harry was striding through the woods toward the makeshift camp outside the invisible Austrian village. Summers kept up without struggling, although his gait appeared relaxed.
“You know,” Summers said after a few moments, his voice casual and his eyes fixed straight ahead. “If you don’t want people knowing what you’ve been up to, you need to be sure to banish all of the evidence.”
Harry’s heart skipped a beat. “What in the bloody hell are you on about?” he grumbled, glaring at the ground to keep from showing his surprise and slight panic. He should’ve known Summers would catch on-they’d pulled off too many missions together not to know when the other was playing a role. But the bigger question was had Hermione noticed?
As if he’d read Harry’s thoughts, Summers smirked into the distance. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe. She thought it was me. Although I do think I deserve at least a pint or two for taking the blame, especially since I’m doing without right now while Val’s visiting her cousin in the States.”
Harry feigned confusion at that remark. “I repeat: What the bloody hell are you on about?”
Summers burst out laughing. “Finally getting laid really has muddled your brain, hasn’t it? What was one of the first things Ingalls taught us in the field, Potter? Use all five senses.” He leaned toward Harry and took an exaggerated sniff before dropping his voice to a loud whisper. “I can smell her on you.”
Harry’s shocked intake of breath proved the point-the scent of Ginny’s arousal hit him full force. Bollocks! Face flaming, he waved a freshening charm over himself while Summers cackled with glee.
“Shut up,” Harry muttered.
“I have to admit I’m surprised, though” Summers said with a frown. “When Granger told you to do whatever you needed to do to get yourself under control, I never expected that you’d actually do it. Always thought you were a one-woman man.”
Harry’s stomach swooped, but he quickly cottoned on that Summers might know the ‘what’ but he hadn’t sussed out the ‘who.’ “You don’t think it’s time I moved on?” he growled.
“Oh, yeah. Past time. I just never thought you would. So who is she?”
Keeping the relief off his face took some effort. “What, you think you’re the only one who can pull at a pub?”
Summer snorted, flicking a quick glance toward Harry’s scar. “’Course not. But aren’t you worried she’ll sell you out to the papers?”
“She won’t,” Harry said, letting his ominous tone imply what measures he’d taken to be sure.
Summers’ eyebrows shot into his fringe “Bloody hell,” he murmured, his tone filled with horrified amazement. “You Obliviated her?”
Harry just raised an eyebrow and stepped through the wards into the camp, glad for the excuse to end the conversation as the information barrage started.
Throughout the day, Harry found little time to think about much of anything but cloaking spells and casualty reports and intelligence missions and the conflict that was building in his gut. Being out here where people’s lives were at stake-both the captives in the villages and the Aurors who had left their homes and families to try to save them-reminded Harry of his purpose in taking up this mantle. He had responsibilities, damn it! What right did he have to indulge his desires while others were suffering?
Unfortunately, the growing guilt did nothing to stop his thoughts from straying at inopportune times or lessen his impatience to get back and indulge Ginny’s desires… if she still wanted him to. Would she even be there when he returned? He was almost afraid to find out.
***
Ginny cast another warming charm over the food on the two plates and continued her well-worn path around the sitting room.
He was late… or maybe not. They hadn’t really set a time. But she’d reasoned that Ron got out of his training classes at six and Hermione would probably stay at the office until he was finished, so Harry might have to stay as well to keep Hermione from getting suspicious. With that in mind, Ginny had started cooking at six, thinking that Harry might need a little extra time to make his excuse for ducking out of dinner believable. But she wouldn’t have minded a bit if he’d caught her cooking in his kitchen-her brain had taken that little fantasy and run with it, imagining him coming in to wrap his arms around her from behind, nicking a bit of whatever she was preparing at the moment, and then one thing leading to another and, well, they might not have bothered with a proper dinner at all.
Only he hadn’t come while she was cooking. But that was okay. He wasn’t that late… yet. Brushing aside the tiny kernel of worry that was trying to take root in the back of her mind, she’d busied herself setting up the small table in the drawing room, which was much cozier and more romantic than the kitchen or dining room. And besides, this was where they’d finally got back together, where they’d shared their first real kiss since his return.
She stopped pacing long enough to shift a wine goblet a fraction of an inch on the crisp linen tablecloth, even though the fine bone china and gleaming silverware and crystal candlesticks were just as perfect as they’d been for the past hour.
The grandfather clock in the library bonged eight times, and Ginny resumed her path in the opposite direction. He wasn’t all that late. Maybe he always stayed at the office past eight. Or maybe he’d had to go to dinner with Ron and Hermione, after all, to keep them from getting suspicious. But surely he’d have sent word, wouldn’t he? Of course, he would. He’d have let her know if something had come up when he knew that she was waiting… wouldn’t he?
Unless he couldn’t.
The moment the thought formed, Ginny’s demons came out to play. She stopped in her tracks, clutching her elbows to ward away the chill seeping into her veins. What if something had happened to him?
Memories exploded in her brain-purple jets of light and crazed laughter and Harry tumbling through the air. Ginny’s heart and lungs froze, trapping blood and breath in a block of ice. Just last night, he’d said that, when the day came, he wouldn’t send anyone else to face Dolohov. What if today was the day? What if Harry was fighting for his life right this minute? Or was already injured or even…?
No,no,no,no! She couldn’t even think the word. It couldn’t be true. Not when they’d finally found each other again. Fate surely wouldn’t be that cruel. Ginny struggled to breathe as her knees gave way and she crumpled onto the ottoman beside her. Yes, Fate could be that cruel. After all they’d been dealt since the war had ended, something happening to Harry now made absolutely perfect sense.
But if something had happened to him, would anyone even think to tell her? Or would she have to read it in the Prophet like the rest of the Wizarding world? No, Hermione would let her know… wouldn’t she? Yes, of course, she would. But, then, Hermione wouldn’t know to look for Ginny here, at Harry’s house, would she? Of course, not. This… whatever it was between then, was a secret. And while Ginny waited here in vain for Harry to come back, Hermione was frantically searching to let her know that he wasn’t coming.
Before she realized she’d moved, Ginny was standing before the fireplace, box of Floo Powder in hand…
Pop!
At the soft sound from the entry hall, Ginny jerked to a stop, barely breathing as she listened, afraid to hope. Footsteps pounded up the stairs. She whirled to see Harry flash past, taking the stairs two at the time, all the way to the bedroom on the topmost floor, from the sound of it. He must be looking for her.
Relief left her reeling, unable to coordinate her mouth enough to call out to him. But in the next second, fury with herself roared to life. How could she have let her demons take control like that? She’d told Harry she was better and she’d meant it! She was definitely strong enough not to fall apart just because he was a few minutes late.
The hurried thumps and banging doors of his search brought her back to the moment, prompting her to check her reflection in the mirror at the back of the glass front cabinet by the fireplace. Merlin, she couldn’t let him see her like this, the color of bleached parchment and just as flimsy-he’d leave and never look back. Drawing several deep breaths to calm her fluttering heart and hands, she swished her wand in a practiced sweep to reset her make-up and add a touch of color to her cheeks. By the time he hit the first floor landing again, she had replaced the Floo Powder box and stationed herself at the drawing room door, leaning against the jamb in a casual pose.
“Looking for someone?” She smirked as he skidded to a stop, eyes wild, hair even wilder.
Panting hard, he stared at her for a moment, then took a step forward but jerked to a stop just out of reach. “You’re here,” he said, sounding completely amazed by the fact.
Ginny’s brows lifted. He was worried? “I told you I would be.”
“Yeah,” Harry said, his voice heavy with relief. He raked a hand through his hair and shuffled his feet. “Yeah, you did. Erm… sorry I’m late.”
His obvious nervousness made Ginny feel like her whole body was smiling. That uncertainty could mean only good things. But why was he still standing there fidgeting? She dropped her hands to her hips and leveled a mock glare at him. “So are you going to give me a proper hello or do I have to come and get it?”
Before she could blink, he had swept her into his arms and seemed to be trying to meld their lips into a single pair. But she wasn’t complaining. She could live the rest of her life on no other nourishment than Harry’s kiss.
“Missed you,” she whispered when Harry released her mouth to trail little nips across her jaw and bury his nose in her hair-he seemed to really enjoy doing that for some reason.
“Missed you, too,” he murmured, then drew back enough to look her in the eyes. “I’m really sorry about being so late. We got a bit of a break on the case and I had to go to several of the bases on the Continent and everyone seemed to need one thing after another and I just couldn’t-”
“Harry, it’s okay,” Ginny said, squeezing his waist and kissing his neck to punctuate her words. Every ounce of tension drained from his body as he gathered her close and gave her a kiss that spoke louder than words how serious his worries had been. It left her in wonder and more determined than ever not to give him anything more to be concerned about. He had enough in his cauldron already.
When he finally lifted his head, his eyes focused beyond her shoulder and went wide. “You cooked.”
She gave him a playful swat and grabbed his hand to lead him to the table. “Of course, I cooked, you prat. Did you think I could grow up in a house with Molly Weasley and not learn how?”
She gently pushed him into a chair and went around to sit in her own, smirking at the flush on his cheeks and the way he suddenly seemed tongue-tied.
“No, I didn’t-it’s not-I knew-” He stopped and took in a deep breath before starting again. “I’m not surprised that you can cook, just that you did. But it smells delicious and now I feel really rotten for being so late.” His stomach grumbled in agreement. “Sorry. I didn’t get to eat lunch today.”
Ginny gestured at his plate. “Well, go on, then. I’m sure it’s not as good as Mum’s, but it won’t poison you.”
She held her breath as he solemnly scooped a bite of chicken and ham pie into his mouth, then shook his head as he chewed and swallowed. “You’re right. Nothing like your mother’s.” Ginny’s stomach dropped and she chewed on her lip to keep from showing her disappointment. But when he spoke again, she felt as if she were flying. “It’s better,” he said, his eyes now twinkling. “Much better.”
Hiding her relieved sigh behind a brilliant smile, Ginny tucked into her own food. “Well, I guess some of Mum’s effort to turn me into a ‘right proper lady’ must’ve taken.”
Harry chuckled around another mouthful. “I think you turned out all right. You seem very lady-like to me.”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Mum doesn’t think so. After six boys, she wanted to treat me like a little dress-up doll, and I would have none of it. She finally gave up with the girlie clothes by the time I turned six, but she kept on with the ‘wife-and-mother’ training.” Realizing, too late, what she’d said, Ginny hurried on. “So while the boys got to do mostly outside chores, I got intense lessons in cleaning and cooking and laundry.”
Pausing between bites, Harry smiled. “So I guess she was pretty disappointed when you joined the Harpies, yeah?”
Ginny shook her head, more in amazement at the way he seemed to be inhaling his supper, but in answer, too. “Not disappointed. Concerned, I guess.”
“But, why?” Harry lowered his fork in disbelief, his focused attention making Ginny squirm a bit. “She didn’t think you could do it?”
“Oh, no,” Ginny said, “I think she knew I could do it. She just didn’t think I should do it.” Uh, oh. She had strayed into dangerous territory. This could lead to some of those difficult discussions they needed to have, but was their fledgling relationship strong enough to handle it yet?
Harry gave her a wry grin as he scraped up the last of his food. “What do you mean she didn’t think you should do it? Is Quidditch not an appropriate career choice for ‘proper ladies’?”
This was her way out, if she wanted it. She could turn the topic with a quip, or she could draw on her Gryffindor courage and get this discussion out of the way. She flicked a glance from beneath her lashes; Harry’s brows had dipped into little frown of confusion. She’d been quiet too long, and he was probably on to her now. Nothing for it but to plunge ahead.
She concentrated on using her fork to push her peas into a crowded, perfect circle. “No, Mum was worried because I, erm, wasn’t doing so well back then. Better than when you left,” she added quickly when his frown deepened, “but, yeah. Not really great.”
Harry reached across the table to take her hand. “I’m sor-”
Ginny snatched her hand away. “Don’t you dare apologize, Harry Potter! We already went through that, and I won’t have you apologizing every time it comes up. I was better. Much better. But I still didn’t want to deal with the press and they were only going to get worse once I left Hogwarts no matter what I decided to do.” When Harry opened his mouth to speak again, she glared him to silence. “I had planned to work at the shop with George so I could hide behind the wards there and at home, but then bloody Hermione had to go and find my offer letters.”
Harry’s eyes went wide. “Letter-sss? As in more than one offer?”
Oh, bugger. She hadn’t meant to tell him that. “Yes,” she bit out, giving her peas a vicious stab and sending half of them off the edge of the plate.
“Well?” Harry asked when she didn’t continue. “How many? The Harpies, obviously, but which other teams?”
Ginny glowered at her runaway peas, then huffed in defeat. He could easily find out from Ron. Might as well spill the beans… or peas, as it were. She kept her eyes lowered as she vanished the mess and mumbled, “All of them.”
When Harry remained quiet, she looked up to find him gaping at her. “Hang on,” he said, voice full of wonder. “I know I missed a lot while I was on the continent. In fact, the only Quidditch news I got at all was when I accidentally saw the Prophet article after your first game as a starter.” He smirked. “Blew my cover from the shock when I saw it.” Her stomach swooped, but he didn’t leave her time for questions. “Blimey, Gin! You got an offer from every team in the league?”
When she gave him a wary nod, he jumped from his chair and snatched her into his arms for a brief but searing kiss. “I always knew you were brilliant,” he crowed. “I’m just glad everyone else finally saw it, too!” Then he let out a whoop of laughter. “I’ll bet Ron had kneazles when you didn’t go with the Cannons.”
Ginny giggled at his infectious enthusiasm and pushed him back onto the sofa so she could straddle his lap. “He literally begged me to, but even though it was a starting spot, the Harpies’ offer was better.”
“You mean Puddlemere didn’t make the best offer? They’re the richest team in the league!”
“Oh, they offered more money, but only a spot on the second reserve team. And if I remember correctly, the Cannons offered the lowest salary. I don’t know. George had it all worked out-he appointed himself my agent and negotiated a contract with the Harpies before I even decided to play.”
“But how did he even know to do that?”
Ginny rolled her eyes. This was going to go on all night if she didn’t just tell him the whole story straight away. “Gwenog saw me fly when she came to Hogwarts for one of Slughorn’s parties and tried to change my mind when I told her I wasn’t planning to play. She’s the one who told Ron and Hermione about my offer letter. Then Hermione found the rest of them and they got George involved and the three of them badgered me into signing because-” she made quotation marks with her fingers “-I’d regret it if I didn’t. Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t be playing at all.”
Harry gave her a squeeze and a quick kiss. “They were right. You would’ve regretted it.”
Ginny snorted. “Maybe so, but when I got to the training facility on the first day, I thought I’d made a horrendous mistake. I was ready to sick up just from nerves and intimidation. If Liam hadn’t literally popped in on top of me just before I Disapparated, I never would’ve gone through the gates in the first place.”
Harry tightened his arms around her and scowled. “So, that’s how you met that wanker. He was all over you right from the start, was he? Just can’t keep his hands off you, can he?”
Ginny pushed out of Harry’s grasp to stand in front of him, arms crossed. “He’s not a wanker. He’s been nothing but a gentleman to me.”
“Right.” Harry’s voice dripped sarcasm as he rose from the sofa to loom over her. “That was perfectly obvious from the way he was feeling you up in that stupid picture in the Prophet. And of course, groping you on the dance floor at the wedding is exactly what any gentleman would do.”
Dropping her fists to her sides and taking several steps back so she wouldn’t hit him, Ginny ground her teeth and growled. “You’ve got a lot of nerve talking about pictures in the newspaper and groping people at weddings. At least we weren’t naked!”
Harry blanched, then flushed and turned his face to glare at the fireplace. “You know you can’t believe what they print,” he bit out. “That wasn’t what it looked like.”
“Oh, so you’re telling me you didn’t have your hands all over a barely dressed woman while you licked out her lungs in front of a bloody window, for Merlin’s sake? Liam and I were barely touching, and if the paper hadn’t cropped the picture you’d be able to see that he had his other arm around Kelby and the rest of the team was sitting at the table with us. Please do explain how that picture of you and that Russian slut wasn’t what it seemed, not to mention the obscene way she was all over you at the wedding.” When Harry groaned and ran his fingers under his glasses to scrub at his eyes, Ginny crossed her arms again. “Well? Go on, then. I can’t wait to hear this load of bollocks.”
Jabbing a hand into his hair, Harry paced away a few steps, then turned back and gave her a pleading look as he gestured to the sofa. “Sit? Please?”
Ginny raised an eyebrow, but plopped onto the middle of the sofa, arms still crossed and scowl in place. When Harry sat down next to her, she moved to the end, daring him with her eyes to come any closer.
Defeated, he slumped over, resting his elbows on his knees and fisting handfuls of hair. She almost felt sorry for him… but not enough. The pain she’d felt when she’d seen those photos rose up, as fresh as when it had first struck, and even though she knew she’d eventually forgive him, right now, she needed to know he was feeling some pain, too.
When Harry finally spoke, his voice and his eyes were lowered. “She was providing me with an alibi.” Ginny snorted and he glared over his shoulder at her. “At least let me finish before you pass judgment.”
Chastened, but unwilling to show it, she huffed and waved her hand in a signal to continue.
Harry got up and went to lean his forearm on the mantle as he stared at the fire. “I had broken into the Russian Ministry to get some information on Dolohov. They didn’t catch me, but I was their primary suspect. Katya was there when they cornered me at a State dinner to take me away for questioning. I was as surprised as everyone else when she told them it couldn’t have been me because I’d spent the night with her. Hell, I’d just met her ten minutes earlier.”
Harry flicked a glance Ginny’s way. In spite of herself, she was intrigued by his story… even if she wasn’t yet sure how much she believed it. “So what did she want in return?”
Harry smirked, but it seemed to be more at whatever he was thinking than at her question. “She wanted me to stop Dolohov as a final gift for her dying grandmother.”
“But you were trying to do that anyway.”
“Yeah, but I still had the problem of the Ministry coming after me and, as I found out later, we both needed an alibi-she worked for the Ministry.”
Ginny couldn’t stop her snort this time. “As what, a whore?”
Harry’s gaze turned dead serious. “Actually yes… more or less. They ‘recruited’ her at age fourteen and trained her as a seductress and spy. She was their top agent.”
Gobsmacked, Ginny couldn’t come up with a scathing remark.
Harry carded his fingers through his hair again. “When they sent her after me, she told me what was going on and that they’d want pictures.” He heaved a sigh. “At the time, I was immersed in the mission, so we gave them pictures. I didn’t really think about how it would look later.” He took a couple of steps forward, palms up, pleading. “Gin, you’ve got to believe me. It never went any further than what you saw in the paper, I swear it.”
Ginny studied him without speaking, desperately wanting to believe him. But one more memory sprang up and screamed for attention. She stood and faced him, hands on her hips. “That’s not what your Russian slut told me.”
Harry’s eyes went wide. “Told you? What did she tell you? When?”
“At the wedding,” Ginny said, taking a threatening step forward. “She told me that I had no right to you anymore, that it was her bed you came to for comfort. She even tried to make me believe that it was your baby she’s carrying.”
Closing his eyes, Harry balled his fists and growled. “I’m going to kill her. I told her to stay away from you.”
“Well, she didn’t. Was she right? Did you sleep with her?”
“No!” Harry yanked on his hair. “Not like that. It was just sleep. That’s all. Just… Hermione stopped sending news about you in her letters and I thought… I guess, I’d been hoping… up until then…” He stammered to a halt and turned toward the fireplace. “I wanted to… with Katya… and she was willing… so I thought… I thought it might help me forget… or something. But then I couldn’t. It just…” He turned around again, but backed a step away, shoulders slumped, head down, seemingly resigned to rejection. Ginny relaxed her stance and strained to hear his gravelly whisper. “How could I be with her when all I wanted was you?”
Before her feet had permission to move, Ginny was wrapped around him, murmuring soft reassurances. How could she not believe him… forgive him… when she’d done the same thing herself?
“It’s okay, Harry. I know… I know…” Her tone must’ve spoken louder than she realized. He lifted his face from her neck, questions in his eyes. She closed her eyes a moment and drew in a deep breath, then stepped out of his embrace to make her own confession. “I tried… with Liam, too. I thought I’d never see you again and… well, I tried to move on. But I couldn’t. I… I just wanted you.”
Her voice had dwindled to nothing by the end, but Harry seemed to understand. He clutched her to him in a heartbeat, pouring every ounce of his love into a kiss that set her soul on fire. They could do this! They really could get past the hard things and make it work.
The time finally came to breathe again and Ginny caught a glimpse of their dinner remains over Harry’s shoulder. “Did you get enough to eat?” she whispered.
He nuzzled her neck and hummed something that sounded like ‘oh, yes,’ then murmured, “Think I’m ready for afters,” as he trailed soft kisses over her jaw to her mouth.
Come morning, the treacle tart on the kitchen counter was untouched.
Chapter 52
Prologue
Chapter 51/60: Making it work
Author:
serendipity_50
Pairings: H/G, R/Hr
Warnings: Het sex, mild profanity, angst
Word Count this chapter: about 9800
Era: Post-DH Pre-Epilogue
Disclaimer: The characters belong to JK Rowling. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment only.
Story Summary: Relationships are hard under normal circumstances, but Harry and Ginny don’t have the luxury of living normal lives...
Chapter Summary: Happily ever after turns out to be hard work.
Author's Notes: Happy Halloween! Here's your treat. Chapter 52 is with Min and I've gotten a start on Chapter 53, so we're probably set for posting through December. I'm thinking we'll be finished before we get to 60. Thanks for your help Ash and Min.
Harry slept little, afraid he’d wake to find himself in some godforsaken hellhole where he’d done nothing more than dream this wonderful, miraculous day. Instead, he lay quietly, listening to Ginny breathe, letting the soft tha-thump of her heart against his chest lull him into a peace he hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever.
Rubbing his nose against her silky hair, he inhaled deeply and filled his senses with the honeyed floral fragrance that could make him drunk for days. She stirred in her sleep, and he ran a soothing hand down her back, molding her more tightly against him. Merlin, her skin was soft. But he refused to let his hands to wander too much-she obviously needed to sleep and he didn’t want to make a move that might remind her of all the reasons she should push him away-even though he gave his eyes permission to roam at will.
Grateful that they hadn’t bothered pulling the blankets over them, he cast a silent warming charm and Summoned his glasses so he could take his time studying the creamy freckle-dusted skin clinging to him like a spider silk. Her body was achingly familiar, yet different… more rounded and soft, more womanly than he remembered, yet still lean and taut. And there! There it was, peeking from the curve of her hip, the strawberry birthmark that looked like puckered lips begging to be kissed. His mouth watered again at the invitation. It was the first place he’d start on his quest to taste every inch of her.
Harry breathed in another lungful of her flowery scent and held it a moment before heaving a sigh from the depth of his soul. Did she know what power she held over him? Two years apart hadn’t diminished that in the slightest. From the moment he’d seen her at his homecoming party at the Burrow, he’d fallen back under her spell as if he’d never been away. But this… he’d completely forgotten this explosion of emotion, this overwhelming sense of completion, as if his body, heart, and soul had finally found the home they’d been seeking.
Oh, he was so buggered.
He’d never intended to be here again. This morning, when she’d opened the door at Andromeda’s, he should’ve Disapparated on the spot. But once he’d invited himself to go shopping and convinced himself that it couldn’t hurt to relax just a bit while they were surrounded by Muggles, he should’ve realized the final battle was lost. His resistance at the very end-hell, from the very beginning-was laughable. The instant he set foot back in England his fate had been sealed. But now that his surrender was complete, he had no intention of escaping, not unless she banished him once and for all… in which case, he might literally vanish.
The inevitable knot of worry began to build in his chest. Anything this blissful couldn’t possibly last. His life just didn’t work like that. Even if Ginny didn’t wake up horrified and send him packing, they’d still have to deal with the rest of the world sooner rather than later.
He couldn’t even begin to think about her family’s reaction. George, for one, wouldn’t make this easy. And the rest of them might have welcomed him back into the family, but if they thought him a threat to Ginny, their open arms might reach for wands instead.
But even if the family accepted them as a couple, their worst challenge would be the press. Today’s encounter with Jinks and Skeeter had been just the start. Once word got out that he and Ginny really were together-if he even dared dream this was more than an unintentional one-off-the reporters would multiply like the cursed treasure in the Lestranges' vault.
In a burst of protectiveness, Harry wrapped her in his arms and rolled them over so his body covered but didn’t crush her. She wouldn’t appreciate his unconscious attempt to shield her from the coming storm, but he couldn’t help it. Now that she was his again-if that’s really what this was… or even if it wasn’t-he was determined to keep her safe.
She moved against him, and he grew still, hoping that he hadn’t wakened her, but at the moist whisper of lips at his throat, he slid down to offer his mouth to hers. With a quiet moan, she tangled her tongue with his and her fingers in his hair.
After a bit, they ended the kiss with gentle nips. She pulled back to look into his eyes and smiled. “Hi.”
His grin stretched wide. “Hi.” He took his glasses off and tossed them over his shoulder toward the night table. This close, he didn’t really need them to see her face and they might get in the way… if things went the way he hoped.
Her fingers threaded through his hair and down his neck, leaving a trail of gooseflesh. “So, not a dream, then,” she whispered, a look of wonder making the gold flecks in her eyes seem to glow.
“Better than a dream,” he whispered back, awe and desire roaring in his veins.
But then her brows dipped and worry flickered across her face. “But is it real?”
He kissed away the tiny crease of concern and dropped his forehead to hers. He had no doubt what she was asking. “It’s real. I’m not going anywhere.”
He felt the worry crease reappear. “But why, Harry? Why did you fight so hard?”
His stomach plunged. So they were already there, the moment of truth. Unable to bear her searching look any longer, he closed his eyes and rolled onto his back. How could he explain what had been going through his head for months… years, even? It had all made so much sense at the time, but now he wasn’t sure he could sort through it himself, much less make her understand.
He turned his head to look at her. She had pulled the pillow down under her cheek and lay watching him, waiting. When his eyes drifted without permission to the pale mounds only partially covered by her arm, he immediately Summoned the blanket from the foot of the bed to cover them. She failed to completely hide a wicked little smirk, but he forced his eyes upward again-as much as he was tempted to delay the inevitable, now was not the time to get distracted.
“When I left,” he began quietly, “I couldn’t get rid of that image of you standing like a ghost on the stairs, begging me and George not to fight. I couldn’t bear the thought of what I’d done to you-” When she started to protest, he pressed a finger to her lips. “Let me say this before I lose my nerve.” She nodded and he dropped his hand away but remained facing her so he could watch her face. They were no longer touching-he wondered what that meant-but he couldn’t close the distance or he’d be too tempted to make promises he couldn’t keep.
“When I came back, you can’t imagine how surprised I was that you and your family had forgiven me and, even more, that you seemed to want me back. I never expected that in a million years. But I couldn’t forget what I’d done in the first place.” When her expression turned confused, he hurried on, rushing to get it all out. “You’d made me promise to tell you when I would be in danger and I broke that promise straight away. I honestly didn’t expect that particular meeting to turn into such a disaster, but I was stupid to make such a promise in the first place. I can’t predict from one minute to the next what might happen. Things can turn dangerous in the blink of an eye.” He paused when she closed her eyes to hide the flash of fear in them.
His gut churned. As much as he hated seeing her reaction, he had to do this. They could never make a go of it if she didn’t understand exactly what she was getting into-if she hadn’t changed her mind already. Steeling himself against the temptation to pull her close, he continued. “You were quite clear that day in the Room of Requirement. You said you couldn’t handle the danger I was in as an Auror. Ginny, I…”
She was watching him again, the furrow between her brows deep and her eyes full of concern. But this might be the only chance he’d ever have to say it. “Ginny, I love you. I love you… but I can’t walk away. Too much is at stake. If Dolohov’s allowed to gain a foothold in Britain, or secure even more of the Continent, our whole way of life could be destroyed. Riddle was evil and completely insane. Dolohov’s evil, but he’s more cunning. And going after him means that I’ll be in danger because, when the time comes, I’m not sending someone else to face off with him.”
Her face went deathly pale as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Using every ounce of his willpower to resist the urge to gather her into his arms, he rolled onto his back to put more distance between them. This choice had to be hers. “That’s why I fought this so hard. I can’t do that to you again, Gin. I won’t do it again.”
He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. As the silence stretched, he threw his arm across his eyes and resigned himself to the inevitable. His moment of bliss was over.
***
Ginny wanted to cry. Harry’s words had summoned every last one of her demons, and from his reaction, she’d done a piss poor job of hiding it. He might have said he wasn’t going anywhere, but if he thought she would fall apart again, he’d be gone in a heartbeat. She had better say something, and fast, or she’d lose what was likely her final chance with him.
“Harry,” she whispered. When he didn’t move, she stroked his arm. “Harry, look at me. Please.”
As he reluctantly uncovered his face and tilted his head just enough to see her, the candlelight glinted off the charmed Galleon at his neck, reinforcing his words and making her want to scream, Why? Why does it have to be you? But she didn’t dare say it out loud. She knew what he’d say and what he’d do and right now she had to convince him to stay so they could fight through those demons together.
“Harry, my… illness… it wasn’t your fault.”
He pressed his lips together and looked back at the dark canopy overhead.
“It wasn’t,” she insisted, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice. “Like I told you downstairs, it was my fault for taking on too much, for not dealing with it sooner. But I’m better now.” Well, that much was true. She wasn’t completely free of her terrors, but she was worlds away from where she had been when he’d left. “The attacks… yeah, they set me back a bit, but I’ve been working with a Mind Healer and it’s better. I’m better.” He still wouldn’t look at her, so she pushed up on her elbow and leaned over him. “Harry, please. I… I’m not going to just let it go this time. And I don’t want to let you go, either.”
He did look at her then, his eyes searching hers, like he wasn’t sure if he could believe her.
She forced the anxiety from her mind and allowed only hope to show on her face. “Please. I want us to try again.”
And then, finally… finally, after a heart-stopping eternity, he left off his searching and rolled over, skimming his fingers over her cheek on their way to burying themselves in her hair and pulling her close for a gentle kiss. Not the soul-branding fire of earlier, but a gentle claiming of lips and heart that melted the little mound of ice that had started forming in the pit of her stomach.
“Are you sure?” he murmured against her mouth, then leaned back to look into her eyes again. His vivid bottle green had narrowed to a small ring surrounding deep, dark pools of emotion. Drowning as she was in their depths, she almost missed his next words. “It won’t be easy, you know. Today was just the start.”
Today. Reporters. She’d almost forgotten. With a sigh, she closed her eyes. Harry’s withdrawal was immediate and more than physical as he apparently misinterpreted her response and rolled onto his back again.
Oh, no you don’t!
Before he’d got fully settled, she was on top of him, straddling his hips, carding her fingers through his hair, pressing kisses along his jaw to his mouth. His hands cupped her breasts, calloused thumbs rubbing circles around her nipples in an achingly familiar pattern. The kiss heated, and for endless minutes their conversation was silent, lips and hands getting reacquainted with secret places that drew gasps and moans and incoherent pleas until they reached a crescendo that sent Ginny’s heart soaring. How could she ever have willingly given this up?
As they snuggled together, catching their breaths and exchanging nipping kisses, Ginny’s stomach gave a mighty roar.
Harry chuckled. “Erm… are you trying to tell me something?”
“No?” She grimaced at the questioning tone, but quickly whimpered and clutched at him when he began to untangle himself from her and the blanket. “Don’t go.”
He pushed her back into the pillows with a kiss that melted her mind and body into a puddle, and then, almost before she realized he’d broken contact, he scrambled off the bed to pull on his jeans. Desire sparked at every nerve ending when she realized that he hadn’t put on boxers first-Merlin, did he do that every day?-but she shook away the distraction and did her best to maintain her pout as she sat up and crossed her arms, deliberately putting her assets on display.
“And just where do you think you’re going?” she asked.
“Oh, erm…” Appropriately distracted, he paused with his second foot halfway into the leg of his jeans and nearly toppled over before catching himself on the bedpost. He struggled to push his foot through the leg opening then, with a little jump, finally got the stupid jeans pulled up. As he fastened them, he leaned over to drop a kiss on her mouth and one on top of each mound of skin above her arms. “Can’t have you passing out from starvation, can we? You’ll need your strength for later, yeah?”
“What? You’re going down to the kitchen? Now? Why not just call Kreacher?”
Harry frowned. “Do you really want Kreacher to see you like that?” When her face flamed, he smirked. “I didn’t think so. I don’t want him to, either. Or anyone else, for that matter.” Ginny’s heart fluttered even as jealousy stabbed through it-who else, besides Katya, had seen him in all his glory?
“So,” Harry’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Are you staying here to rest up for later?” He waggled he eyebrows comically. “Or are you coming down to watch the master chef at work?”
“You can cook?” Ginny got out of bed and bent over to pick Harry’s t-shirt off the floor. When she pulled her head through the neck hole, she found him goggling at her, glasses askew on his face. She giggled at his disappointed scowl when she pulled the shirt down over her hips. “Oi! Master chef!” He jerked his eyes up to hers. “Since when can you cook?”
With another regretful look at the hem of his shirt brushing her thighs, he sighed and held the door for her to pass through, then followed her down the stairs. “That’s about the only good thing I got out of living with the Dursleys. I can put together a halfway decent meal.”
While he cooked, they talked about Ginny’s start with the Harpies and the places Harry had traveled and a host of other “safe” topics, always skirting the touchy things that Ginny knew they’d eventually have to face. But for now, she needed the joy of just being with him, of watching the muscles ripple across his bare back as he worked, of basking in the happy and seductive smiles he sent her way every few minutes, and the frequent touches and kisses and hugs they shared as they moved around each other while she “helped.” Oh, how she’d dreamed of, this intimacy, this contentment. What she wouldn’t give to be able to stay right here with him and never have to face the rest of the world again.
The food was simple but delicious, and provided as much entertainment as nourishment. She was never again going to be able to eat bangers and mash with a straight face… or dry knickers.
Once they’d gone back upstairs and entwined like vines on the bed, Harry popped her little bubble of bliss. “So, where do we go from here? Things are going to go mad once this gets out.”
Ginny blew out a sharp breath and pushed her head off of his shoulder so she could see his face. “Can we just stay here? Never go out again?”
He smiled. “Don’t I wish! But I think that would be a bit hard to explain to your family. And Gwenog. And Robards. And the Minister.”
With a huff, she flopped back onto the pillow. “I know. I just hate that we even have to think about the press. Don’t look like that,” she cut in when he frowned. “I learnt to handle them a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean that I like it.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“But seriously…” She pushed back up onto her elbow so she could look into his eyes. “Can we keep this a secret, just for a little while? You’re right-once this gets out, we’ll hardly have any peace.” She searched his face for a moment, then cupped his cheek and kissed him as if she were pouring her entire being into him. “I’ve missed you so much. I want to keep you to myself for a while. Get to know you before they start trying to tear us apart again.”
She could read in Harry’s eyes the memories of the way the whole world seemed to believe it had a right to their privacy and took every opportunity to distribute rumors and lies to make their lives hell. He gave her a sad smile. “Yeah, they will, won’t they? But what about your family?”
Ginny grimaced a bit. “I don’t want to tell them yet, either.” At Harry’s raised eyebrows, she sighed. “As much as I love them, and I know they love me… us… I just don’t feel like having to deal with their… love just yet. Mum’ll be planning a wed-erm, making plans, and George… well, George will be George, and the rest of them…” She fell back onto the pillow with a groan. “I don’t really have to explain this to you, do I?”
Harry smiled and rolled over to kiss her temple. “No. And, you’re right. We should take some time to get reacquainted. But you know we’ll have to pretend that nothing’s changed, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Ginny sighed. “We’ll definitely have to go about our usual business. But keeping up that dance we’ve been doing around each other in front of the family will be hard. You’ll just have to do that acting thing you did yesterday for Jinks and Skeeter.”
“That?” Harry smirked. “That was no act. That was me letting myself do what I’d been putting on an act to hide since I got back.” He kissed her. “Felt bloody wonderful, too. Going back to the other will be torture now. Maybe I should just get caught up in work and stay away?”
Ginny snorted. “Right. Hermione would never pick up on that. Besides, you’ve been friendlier lately. Maybe she won’t notice that things have really changed?”
“Dream on,” Harry said with a laugh. “I’m going to have to work out a way to get out of our Friday night dinner, too. Coming up with a believable excuse is going to be nearly impossible.”
Ginny stroked her fingers through his hair and gave him a kiss. “You’ll think of something.”
He returned the kiss… several times. “Not right now, though. I’ve got other things on my mind,” he murmured, tossing his glasses back onto the night table and leaving a trail with his lips down to her birthmark.
***
Harry rose slowly back to consciousness, blinking into the grey morning light creeping through the crack in the curtains at the window. Even though he couldn’t have got more than three hours of sleep, he couldn’t remember ever feeling more rested and relaxed, utterly boneless… well, except for maybe that one part of him, nestled in the cleft of her cute little bum, that felt like nothing but bone. He couldn’t help tightening his arm around her waist just a bit, aligning himself more securely against her, but being careful not to wake her. She looked so beautiful, so peaceful. He wished they could stay right here, just like this, forever.
Unfortunately, he was going to have to get up soon. Aside from the fact that he really needed to piss, he also needed to put in an appearance at the Ministry and the Austrian Field Headquarters, at the very least. And Ginny was planning to go and visit the children later. His mind was drifting through their plans for keeping the world ignorant when Ginny hummed a sleepy good morning and wiggled against him, banishing every thought from his head.
Some time later he forced himself up to shower and by the time he was dressed, Ginny had burrowed so far into her nest of blankets that only a tangle of fiery hair was visible. Harry stared in wonder, a goofy grin on his face as he snapped his wand into his holster. She was really here. In his bed. Curled around his pillow. Merlin, he hated to leave her. But he needed to go. He was late already and if he didn’t get moving he might not go at all. How was he ever going to get through the day?
Leaning over, he dropped a kiss atop her head and stole a last whiff of her intoxicating scent, but before he could straighten, she pulled down the blanket and tilted her face for a proper kiss. He obliged-more than obliged, his kiss morphing from ‘goodbye’ to ‘hello’ with lightning speed. When she gave his shoulder a little push, he growled a protest and plunged his fingers into her hair so he could shift his lips to her jaw and trail kisses down her neck. God, she tasted so sweet! Just like the irresistible flowery scent that drew him like a honeybee.
“You need to go,” she whispered.
Harry found it hard to listen when she angled her head to give him better access. “Don’t want to,” he murmured against her throat.
Whimpering, she arched into his other hand that had wormed its way beneath the blanket. Her voice came in strangled spurts. “Don’t… want you to… either… but…” He quickly moved his mouth to swallow her words until she shoved a little harder on his chest. “Harry,” she gasped as he latched onto the soft skin below her ear and danced his fingers over her most sensitive place. “Her-Hermione… looking… for you.”
Ginny was right. Hermione really would come looking if he didn’t get moving, but how could he stop now when Ginny was making those delightful little panting noises in the back of her throat and squirming frantically against his hand? He refused to leave her hanging.
She mewled and arched and clenched her thighs around his hand, then collapsed panting back into the blankets and pillows. Harry gave her a tender kiss on the lips and on the forehead.
She grabbed his arm as he straightened. “I can help you with that,” she said in a hoarse whisper, nodding at his obvious erection.
He pushed away the temptation. “I’m late, remember?”
She poked out her bottom lip, reminding him of how Summers’ girl had done at the pub… was it really weeks ago? Harry had thought the pout silly then, but now he saw the appeal and bent down to take a taste. Yes, very nice, indeed.
Before Ginny could entice him further, he straightened again and stepped back. “I really do need to go if we’re going to keep this secret.”
Her sigh sounded like it came from her toes. “I know.”
“You’ll be here when I get back?” Damn, he hadn’t meant to sound so needy.
She snuggled back around his pillow and nodded. “Don’t be late, yeah?”
“Like I am now?” he said with a cheeky grin.
She nodded around a yawn. Harry forced his feet to start moving toward the door, although he kept facing the bed where Ginny was already drifting off again. He wanted to brand the picture onto his brain, just in case she came to her senses while he was gone and this did turn out to be a surreal one-off.
When Harry reached the kitchen, he took a few moments to dig deep within himself. Nearly six months had passed since he’d last used the undercover skills honed to keep him alive during his years on the continent, and he hoped the lack of practice hadn’t put them out of reach. Even though this wasn’t a life-or-death situation, he was going to need every one of those techniques to hide his giddy happiness from the world. He and Ginny needed this time for themselves; he simply had to make sure everyone believed nothing had changed.
His biggest challenges were going to be Ron, Hermione, and Summers. They knew him better than anyone and were keen enough observers to pick up on even the smallest slip. But Ron would be in training, and Harry could avoid spending too much time with either Hermione or Summers if he went to visit all of the field bases. That might be the best excuse for missing supper tonight, too.
So… who should he be today? Hermione had sent him away yesterday because he’d been fairly volatile about the disappearance of the Austrian village. He still wasn’t happy about it, but his day away should have calmed him somewhat… that meant grouchy and determined, like he was keeping his temper on a tight rein, would probably work. Now he just had to get his lips to understand that goofy grins were not part of the act.
Grabbing an apple from the bowl on the table, he set his face into a stern mask and Flooed to the Ministry.
Hermione was sitting at the conference table with her face in a book when Harry strode into the office. He grumbled a short “Morning” and turned his back on her to pour a mug of coffee from the urn on the credenza just inside the door.
“You’re late.”
“Your point?” he snarled, throwing a glare over his shoulder for good measure. So far, so good, but he was still struggling to keep his thoughts from straying to the image of Ginny curled in his bed. Keeping his movements sharp, he moved his mug to his desk and started flipping through his mail, casting only the briefest glance at Hermione’s book. “Find anything?” It came out as a tight bark. Good.
Before she could respond, Summers sauntered in and flopped into the chair in front of Harry’s desk.
“You’re late,” Harry growled, ignoring Hermione’s exasperated huff.
“Your point?” Summers asked with a cheeky grin, then tipped his head back to look at Hermione nearly upside down. “Find anything?”
With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, she dropped her book open on the table with a bit more force than necessary. “As a matter of fact, I think I have.”
Harry’s mind instantly snapped to attention. He and Summers converged to look at the book over Hermione’s shoulders. She cast an inexplicable glare at Summers, who threw a surprised glance at Harry, who scowled as he scalded his tongue on his first sip of hot coffee.
For reasons Harry didn’t understand, Hermione gave an irritated shake of her head before launching into her explanation. “Because we were able to inspect the cloaking spells on the Austrian village before they had time to become fully integrated,” she said, “I’ve determined that they are most likely generated by a talisman. Or, rather, a network of talismans that interact to create a sort of woven dome over the village-like a net weighted down around the edges.”
“Looks like it should have some weak points, then,” Harry said, scanning the diagram in the book on the table.
Hermione tapped her chin with a frown. “Or it could mean that using multiple talismans would reinforce it considerably.”
Harry set his mug down and pulled the book closer. “But if it was going to have a weak point, where would it be?”
Summers leaned between Harry and Hermione to tap the top of the glowing dome of crisscrossed lines. “There, most likely.”
“Possibly,” Hermione said. “Or it could be around the bottom at the halfway point between talismans. And I’m not even completely certain that this is what they’re using. They could have based whatever it is on something like this, but strengthened it by layering several types of cloaking spells over or under it. We’ll need to run a few tests to know for sure.”
“How do we do that?” Harry asked, and for the next hour, Hermione gave him and Summers a detailed tutorial on analysis techniques for more than half a dozen different types of cloaking spells. Paying attention to a Hermione-lecture proved more difficult than usual since Harry’s mind had much more thrilling places to wander, but he gritted his teeth and made himself focus, especially with Summers watching him a little too closely for comfort.
“Okay,” Harry said when she seemed to be winding down. “We should go and get the teams started on these.”
Hermione shook her head. “I need to stay here today. I’ve several more things to look up and I want to talk to a couple of people in the Department of Mysteries.”
Harry sent a questioning look at Summers, who nodded his agreement to come along. “All right, then. We’ll get going. Listen,” he added as Hermione grabbed another book from the towering stack at the end of the table. “I’ll probably be late getting back tonight and I’m sure I won’t be fit company. Let’s just skip supper this week.”
He forced his face to remain passive when Hermione raised her eyebrows and shook her head. “Harry, we don’t mind waiting for you. I’ll want to hear how it goes today and, besides, it just won’t seem like Friday without you.”
Harry rolled his eyes in an effort at exasperation. “Hermione, the world won’t come to an end if we don’t get together tonight. You’ve worked late every night this week. Why don’t you and Ron just take this evening for yourselves? Make a date of it?” When her eyes lit up and she started chewing on her lip-a sure sign she liked that idea-he took one final shot. “And anyway, if the tests turn up anything interesting, I might just stay over at one of the bases. I can catch you up at the Weasleys’ on Sunday, if I don’t see you here tomorrow.”
Lip still caught between her teeth she frowned. Uh-oh. That last might have been overkill.
“I don’t know, Harry. If you find something interesting enough to stay-”
“I’ll let you know,” he cut her off before she got rolling. “Meanwhile, just… spend the evening with your husband. But don’t tell me any of the details, yeah?” he added with a fierce scowl and a dramatic shudder.
Ten minutes and three Apparition jumps later, Harry was striding through the woods toward the makeshift camp outside the invisible Austrian village. Summers kept up without struggling, although his gait appeared relaxed.
“You know,” Summers said after a few moments, his voice casual and his eyes fixed straight ahead. “If you don’t want people knowing what you’ve been up to, you need to be sure to banish all of the evidence.”
Harry’s heart skipped a beat. “What in the bloody hell are you on about?” he grumbled, glaring at the ground to keep from showing his surprise and slight panic. He should’ve known Summers would catch on-they’d pulled off too many missions together not to know when the other was playing a role. But the bigger question was had Hermione noticed?
As if he’d read Harry’s thoughts, Summers smirked into the distance. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe. She thought it was me. Although I do think I deserve at least a pint or two for taking the blame, especially since I’m doing without right now while Val’s visiting her cousin in the States.”
Harry feigned confusion at that remark. “I repeat: What the bloody hell are you on about?”
Summers burst out laughing. “Finally getting laid really has muddled your brain, hasn’t it? What was one of the first things Ingalls taught us in the field, Potter? Use all five senses.” He leaned toward Harry and took an exaggerated sniff before dropping his voice to a loud whisper. “I can smell her on you.”
Harry’s shocked intake of breath proved the point-the scent of Ginny’s arousal hit him full force. Bollocks! Face flaming, he waved a freshening charm over himself while Summers cackled with glee.
“Shut up,” Harry muttered.
“I have to admit I’m surprised, though” Summers said with a frown. “When Granger told you to do whatever you needed to do to get yourself under control, I never expected that you’d actually do it. Always thought you were a one-woman man.”
Harry’s stomach swooped, but he quickly cottoned on that Summers might know the ‘what’ but he hadn’t sussed out the ‘who.’ “You don’t think it’s time I moved on?” he growled.
“Oh, yeah. Past time. I just never thought you would. So who is she?”
Keeping the relief off his face took some effort. “What, you think you’re the only one who can pull at a pub?”
Summer snorted, flicking a quick glance toward Harry’s scar. “’Course not. But aren’t you worried she’ll sell you out to the papers?”
“She won’t,” Harry said, letting his ominous tone imply what measures he’d taken to be sure.
Summers’ eyebrows shot into his fringe “Bloody hell,” he murmured, his tone filled with horrified amazement. “You Obliviated her?”
Harry just raised an eyebrow and stepped through the wards into the camp, glad for the excuse to end the conversation as the information barrage started.
Throughout the day, Harry found little time to think about much of anything but cloaking spells and casualty reports and intelligence missions and the conflict that was building in his gut. Being out here where people’s lives were at stake-both the captives in the villages and the Aurors who had left their homes and families to try to save them-reminded Harry of his purpose in taking up this mantle. He had responsibilities, damn it! What right did he have to indulge his desires while others were suffering?
Unfortunately, the growing guilt did nothing to stop his thoughts from straying at inopportune times or lessen his impatience to get back and indulge Ginny’s desires… if she still wanted him to. Would she even be there when he returned? He was almost afraid to find out.
***
Ginny cast another warming charm over the food on the two plates and continued her well-worn path around the sitting room.
He was late… or maybe not. They hadn’t really set a time. But she’d reasoned that Ron got out of his training classes at six and Hermione would probably stay at the office until he was finished, so Harry might have to stay as well to keep Hermione from getting suspicious. With that in mind, Ginny had started cooking at six, thinking that Harry might need a little extra time to make his excuse for ducking out of dinner believable. But she wouldn’t have minded a bit if he’d caught her cooking in his kitchen-her brain had taken that little fantasy and run with it, imagining him coming in to wrap his arms around her from behind, nicking a bit of whatever she was preparing at the moment, and then one thing leading to another and, well, they might not have bothered with a proper dinner at all.
Only he hadn’t come while she was cooking. But that was okay. He wasn’t that late… yet. Brushing aside the tiny kernel of worry that was trying to take root in the back of her mind, she’d busied herself setting up the small table in the drawing room, which was much cozier and more romantic than the kitchen or dining room. And besides, this was where they’d finally got back together, where they’d shared their first real kiss since his return.
She stopped pacing long enough to shift a wine goblet a fraction of an inch on the crisp linen tablecloth, even though the fine bone china and gleaming silverware and crystal candlesticks were just as perfect as they’d been for the past hour.
The grandfather clock in the library bonged eight times, and Ginny resumed her path in the opposite direction. He wasn’t all that late. Maybe he always stayed at the office past eight. Or maybe he’d had to go to dinner with Ron and Hermione, after all, to keep them from getting suspicious. But surely he’d have sent word, wouldn’t he? Of course, he would. He’d have let her know if something had come up when he knew that she was waiting… wouldn’t he?
Unless he couldn’t.
The moment the thought formed, Ginny’s demons came out to play. She stopped in her tracks, clutching her elbows to ward away the chill seeping into her veins. What if something had happened to him?
Memories exploded in her brain-purple jets of light and crazed laughter and Harry tumbling through the air. Ginny’s heart and lungs froze, trapping blood and breath in a block of ice. Just last night, he’d said that, when the day came, he wouldn’t send anyone else to face Dolohov. What if today was the day? What if Harry was fighting for his life right this minute? Or was already injured or even…?
No,no,no,no! She couldn’t even think the word. It couldn’t be true. Not when they’d finally found each other again. Fate surely wouldn’t be that cruel. Ginny struggled to breathe as her knees gave way and she crumpled onto the ottoman beside her. Yes, Fate could be that cruel. After all they’d been dealt since the war had ended, something happening to Harry now made absolutely perfect sense.
But if something had happened to him, would anyone even think to tell her? Or would she have to read it in the Prophet like the rest of the Wizarding world? No, Hermione would let her know… wouldn’t she? Yes, of course, she would. But, then, Hermione wouldn’t know to look for Ginny here, at Harry’s house, would she? Of course, not. This… whatever it was between then, was a secret. And while Ginny waited here in vain for Harry to come back, Hermione was frantically searching to let her know that he wasn’t coming.
Before she realized she’d moved, Ginny was standing before the fireplace, box of Floo Powder in hand…
Pop!
At the soft sound from the entry hall, Ginny jerked to a stop, barely breathing as she listened, afraid to hope. Footsteps pounded up the stairs. She whirled to see Harry flash past, taking the stairs two at the time, all the way to the bedroom on the topmost floor, from the sound of it. He must be looking for her.
Relief left her reeling, unable to coordinate her mouth enough to call out to him. But in the next second, fury with herself roared to life. How could she have let her demons take control like that? She’d told Harry she was better and she’d meant it! She was definitely strong enough not to fall apart just because he was a few minutes late.
The hurried thumps and banging doors of his search brought her back to the moment, prompting her to check her reflection in the mirror at the back of the glass front cabinet by the fireplace. Merlin, she couldn’t let him see her like this, the color of bleached parchment and just as flimsy-he’d leave and never look back. Drawing several deep breaths to calm her fluttering heart and hands, she swished her wand in a practiced sweep to reset her make-up and add a touch of color to her cheeks. By the time he hit the first floor landing again, she had replaced the Floo Powder box and stationed herself at the drawing room door, leaning against the jamb in a casual pose.
“Looking for someone?” She smirked as he skidded to a stop, eyes wild, hair even wilder.
Panting hard, he stared at her for a moment, then took a step forward but jerked to a stop just out of reach. “You’re here,” he said, sounding completely amazed by the fact.
Ginny’s brows lifted. He was worried? “I told you I would be.”
“Yeah,” Harry said, his voice heavy with relief. He raked a hand through his hair and shuffled his feet. “Yeah, you did. Erm… sorry I’m late.”
His obvious nervousness made Ginny feel like her whole body was smiling. That uncertainty could mean only good things. But why was he still standing there fidgeting? She dropped her hands to her hips and leveled a mock glare at him. “So are you going to give me a proper hello or do I have to come and get it?”
Before she could blink, he had swept her into his arms and seemed to be trying to meld their lips into a single pair. But she wasn’t complaining. She could live the rest of her life on no other nourishment than Harry’s kiss.
“Missed you,” she whispered when Harry released her mouth to trail little nips across her jaw and bury his nose in her hair-he seemed to really enjoy doing that for some reason.
“Missed you, too,” he murmured, then drew back enough to look her in the eyes. “I’m really sorry about being so late. We got a bit of a break on the case and I had to go to several of the bases on the Continent and everyone seemed to need one thing after another and I just couldn’t-”
“Harry, it’s okay,” Ginny said, squeezing his waist and kissing his neck to punctuate her words. Every ounce of tension drained from his body as he gathered her close and gave her a kiss that spoke louder than words how serious his worries had been. It left her in wonder and more determined than ever not to give him anything more to be concerned about. He had enough in his cauldron already.
When he finally lifted his head, his eyes focused beyond her shoulder and went wide. “You cooked.”
She gave him a playful swat and grabbed his hand to lead him to the table. “Of course, I cooked, you prat. Did you think I could grow up in a house with Molly Weasley and not learn how?”
She gently pushed him into a chair and went around to sit in her own, smirking at the flush on his cheeks and the way he suddenly seemed tongue-tied.
“No, I didn’t-it’s not-I knew-” He stopped and took in a deep breath before starting again. “I’m not surprised that you can cook, just that you did. But it smells delicious and now I feel really rotten for being so late.” His stomach grumbled in agreement. “Sorry. I didn’t get to eat lunch today.”
Ginny gestured at his plate. “Well, go on, then. I’m sure it’s not as good as Mum’s, but it won’t poison you.”
She held her breath as he solemnly scooped a bite of chicken and ham pie into his mouth, then shook his head as he chewed and swallowed. “You’re right. Nothing like your mother’s.” Ginny’s stomach dropped and she chewed on her lip to keep from showing her disappointment. But when he spoke again, she felt as if she were flying. “It’s better,” he said, his eyes now twinkling. “Much better.”
Hiding her relieved sigh behind a brilliant smile, Ginny tucked into her own food. “Well, I guess some of Mum’s effort to turn me into a ‘right proper lady’ must’ve taken.”
Harry chuckled around another mouthful. “I think you turned out all right. You seem very lady-like to me.”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Mum doesn’t think so. After six boys, she wanted to treat me like a little dress-up doll, and I would have none of it. She finally gave up with the girlie clothes by the time I turned six, but she kept on with the ‘wife-and-mother’ training.” Realizing, too late, what she’d said, Ginny hurried on. “So while the boys got to do mostly outside chores, I got intense lessons in cleaning and cooking and laundry.”
Pausing between bites, Harry smiled. “So I guess she was pretty disappointed when you joined the Harpies, yeah?”
Ginny shook her head, more in amazement at the way he seemed to be inhaling his supper, but in answer, too. “Not disappointed. Concerned, I guess.”
“But, why?” Harry lowered his fork in disbelief, his focused attention making Ginny squirm a bit. “She didn’t think you could do it?”
“Oh, no,” Ginny said, “I think she knew I could do it. She just didn’t think I should do it.” Uh, oh. She had strayed into dangerous territory. This could lead to some of those difficult discussions they needed to have, but was their fledgling relationship strong enough to handle it yet?
Harry gave her a wry grin as he scraped up the last of his food. “What do you mean she didn’t think you should do it? Is Quidditch not an appropriate career choice for ‘proper ladies’?”
This was her way out, if she wanted it. She could turn the topic with a quip, or she could draw on her Gryffindor courage and get this discussion out of the way. She flicked a glance from beneath her lashes; Harry’s brows had dipped into little frown of confusion. She’d been quiet too long, and he was probably on to her now. Nothing for it but to plunge ahead.
She concentrated on using her fork to push her peas into a crowded, perfect circle. “No, Mum was worried because I, erm, wasn’t doing so well back then. Better than when you left,” she added quickly when his frown deepened, “but, yeah. Not really great.”
Harry reached across the table to take her hand. “I’m sor-”
Ginny snatched her hand away. “Don’t you dare apologize, Harry Potter! We already went through that, and I won’t have you apologizing every time it comes up. I was better. Much better. But I still didn’t want to deal with the press and they were only going to get worse once I left Hogwarts no matter what I decided to do.” When Harry opened his mouth to speak again, she glared him to silence. “I had planned to work at the shop with George so I could hide behind the wards there and at home, but then bloody Hermione had to go and find my offer letters.”
Harry’s eyes went wide. “Letter-sss? As in more than one offer?”
Oh, bugger. She hadn’t meant to tell him that. “Yes,” she bit out, giving her peas a vicious stab and sending half of them off the edge of the plate.
“Well?” Harry asked when she didn’t continue. “How many? The Harpies, obviously, but which other teams?”
Ginny glowered at her runaway peas, then huffed in defeat. He could easily find out from Ron. Might as well spill the beans… or peas, as it were. She kept her eyes lowered as she vanished the mess and mumbled, “All of them.”
When Harry remained quiet, she looked up to find him gaping at her. “Hang on,” he said, voice full of wonder. “I know I missed a lot while I was on the continent. In fact, the only Quidditch news I got at all was when I accidentally saw the Prophet article after your first game as a starter.” He smirked. “Blew my cover from the shock when I saw it.” Her stomach swooped, but he didn’t leave her time for questions. “Blimey, Gin! You got an offer from every team in the league?”
When she gave him a wary nod, he jumped from his chair and snatched her into his arms for a brief but searing kiss. “I always knew you were brilliant,” he crowed. “I’m just glad everyone else finally saw it, too!” Then he let out a whoop of laughter. “I’ll bet Ron had kneazles when you didn’t go with the Cannons.”
Ginny giggled at his infectious enthusiasm and pushed him back onto the sofa so she could straddle his lap. “He literally begged me to, but even though it was a starting spot, the Harpies’ offer was better.”
“You mean Puddlemere didn’t make the best offer? They’re the richest team in the league!”
“Oh, they offered more money, but only a spot on the second reserve team. And if I remember correctly, the Cannons offered the lowest salary. I don’t know. George had it all worked out-he appointed himself my agent and negotiated a contract with the Harpies before I even decided to play.”
“But how did he even know to do that?”
Ginny rolled her eyes. This was going to go on all night if she didn’t just tell him the whole story straight away. “Gwenog saw me fly when she came to Hogwarts for one of Slughorn’s parties and tried to change my mind when I told her I wasn’t planning to play. She’s the one who told Ron and Hermione about my offer letter. Then Hermione found the rest of them and they got George involved and the three of them badgered me into signing because-” she made quotation marks with her fingers “-I’d regret it if I didn’t. Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t be playing at all.”
Harry gave her a squeeze and a quick kiss. “They were right. You would’ve regretted it.”
Ginny snorted. “Maybe so, but when I got to the training facility on the first day, I thought I’d made a horrendous mistake. I was ready to sick up just from nerves and intimidation. If Liam hadn’t literally popped in on top of me just before I Disapparated, I never would’ve gone through the gates in the first place.”
Harry tightened his arms around her and scowled. “So, that’s how you met that wanker. He was all over you right from the start, was he? Just can’t keep his hands off you, can he?”
Ginny pushed out of Harry’s grasp to stand in front of him, arms crossed. “He’s not a wanker. He’s been nothing but a gentleman to me.”
“Right.” Harry’s voice dripped sarcasm as he rose from the sofa to loom over her. “That was perfectly obvious from the way he was feeling you up in that stupid picture in the Prophet. And of course, groping you on the dance floor at the wedding is exactly what any gentleman would do.”
Dropping her fists to her sides and taking several steps back so she wouldn’t hit him, Ginny ground her teeth and growled. “You’ve got a lot of nerve talking about pictures in the newspaper and groping people at weddings. At least we weren’t naked!”
Harry blanched, then flushed and turned his face to glare at the fireplace. “You know you can’t believe what they print,” he bit out. “That wasn’t what it looked like.”
“Oh, so you’re telling me you didn’t have your hands all over a barely dressed woman while you licked out her lungs in front of a bloody window, for Merlin’s sake? Liam and I were barely touching, and if the paper hadn’t cropped the picture you’d be able to see that he had his other arm around Kelby and the rest of the team was sitting at the table with us. Please do explain how that picture of you and that Russian slut wasn’t what it seemed, not to mention the obscene way she was all over you at the wedding.” When Harry groaned and ran his fingers under his glasses to scrub at his eyes, Ginny crossed her arms again. “Well? Go on, then. I can’t wait to hear this load of bollocks.”
Jabbing a hand into his hair, Harry paced away a few steps, then turned back and gave her a pleading look as he gestured to the sofa. “Sit? Please?”
Ginny raised an eyebrow, but plopped onto the middle of the sofa, arms still crossed and scowl in place. When Harry sat down next to her, she moved to the end, daring him with her eyes to come any closer.
Defeated, he slumped over, resting his elbows on his knees and fisting handfuls of hair. She almost felt sorry for him… but not enough. The pain she’d felt when she’d seen those photos rose up, as fresh as when it had first struck, and even though she knew she’d eventually forgive him, right now, she needed to know he was feeling some pain, too.
When Harry finally spoke, his voice and his eyes were lowered. “She was providing me with an alibi.” Ginny snorted and he glared over his shoulder at her. “At least let me finish before you pass judgment.”
Chastened, but unwilling to show it, she huffed and waved her hand in a signal to continue.
Harry got up and went to lean his forearm on the mantle as he stared at the fire. “I had broken into the Russian Ministry to get some information on Dolohov. They didn’t catch me, but I was their primary suspect. Katya was there when they cornered me at a State dinner to take me away for questioning. I was as surprised as everyone else when she told them it couldn’t have been me because I’d spent the night with her. Hell, I’d just met her ten minutes earlier.”
Harry flicked a glance Ginny’s way. In spite of herself, she was intrigued by his story… even if she wasn’t yet sure how much she believed it. “So what did she want in return?”
Harry smirked, but it seemed to be more at whatever he was thinking than at her question. “She wanted me to stop Dolohov as a final gift for her dying grandmother.”
“But you were trying to do that anyway.”
“Yeah, but I still had the problem of the Ministry coming after me and, as I found out later, we both needed an alibi-she worked for the Ministry.”
Ginny couldn’t stop her snort this time. “As what, a whore?”
Harry’s gaze turned dead serious. “Actually yes… more or less. They ‘recruited’ her at age fourteen and trained her as a seductress and spy. She was their top agent.”
Gobsmacked, Ginny couldn’t come up with a scathing remark.
Harry carded his fingers through his hair again. “When they sent her after me, she told me what was going on and that they’d want pictures.” He heaved a sigh. “At the time, I was immersed in the mission, so we gave them pictures. I didn’t really think about how it would look later.” He took a couple of steps forward, palms up, pleading. “Gin, you’ve got to believe me. It never went any further than what you saw in the paper, I swear it.”
Ginny studied him without speaking, desperately wanting to believe him. But one more memory sprang up and screamed for attention. She stood and faced him, hands on her hips. “That’s not what your Russian slut told me.”
Harry’s eyes went wide. “Told you? What did she tell you? When?”
“At the wedding,” Ginny said, taking a threatening step forward. “She told me that I had no right to you anymore, that it was her bed you came to for comfort. She even tried to make me believe that it was your baby she’s carrying.”
Closing his eyes, Harry balled his fists and growled. “I’m going to kill her. I told her to stay away from you.”
“Well, she didn’t. Was she right? Did you sleep with her?”
“No!” Harry yanked on his hair. “Not like that. It was just sleep. That’s all. Just… Hermione stopped sending news about you in her letters and I thought… I guess, I’d been hoping… up until then…” He stammered to a halt and turned toward the fireplace. “I wanted to… with Katya… and she was willing… so I thought… I thought it might help me forget… or something. But then I couldn’t. It just…” He turned around again, but backed a step away, shoulders slumped, head down, seemingly resigned to rejection. Ginny relaxed her stance and strained to hear his gravelly whisper. “How could I be with her when all I wanted was you?”
Before her feet had permission to move, Ginny was wrapped around him, murmuring soft reassurances. How could she not believe him… forgive him… when she’d done the same thing herself?
“It’s okay, Harry. I know… I know…” Her tone must’ve spoken louder than she realized. He lifted his face from her neck, questions in his eyes. She closed her eyes a moment and drew in a deep breath, then stepped out of his embrace to make her own confession. “I tried… with Liam, too. I thought I’d never see you again and… well, I tried to move on. But I couldn’t. I… I just wanted you.”
Her voice had dwindled to nothing by the end, but Harry seemed to understand. He clutched her to him in a heartbeat, pouring every ounce of his love into a kiss that set her soul on fire. They could do this! They really could get past the hard things and make it work.
The time finally came to breathe again and Ginny caught a glimpse of their dinner remains over Harry’s shoulder. “Did you get enough to eat?” she whispered.
He nuzzled her neck and hummed something that sounded like ‘oh, yes,’ then murmured, “Think I’m ready for afters,” as he trailed soft kisses over her jaw to her mouth.
Come morning, the treacle tart on the kitchen counter was untouched.
Chapter 52
Prologue