He was waiting for her in the living room when she came down the stairs. With his brow furrowed in thought, Harry stood still in front of the fireplace.

"You're early." Ginny kissed him on the cheek and felt him smile in return.

"Couldn't sleep much, so I figured I'd come over here. Hope you don't mind." Harry tried to shrug his explanation off casually, but Ginny's eyes flashed with worry and she gripped his arm.

"I thought the nightmares stopped!"

"They did," Harry insisted, looking Ginny in the eye. "It's just harder now that I've moved out. I miss you being there."

With Ginny returning to school in less than two weeks, Harry had decided that his residency at the Burrow had come to a close. Of course he was always welcome at the Weasley's (and made great use of that), but he needed a place of his own to retire to after Auror training. He missed the Burrow for the company, but most of all for the nights that he and Ginny could meet up and be together. Unfortunately, Harry got the feeling that Mrs. Weasley made too many sly comments for he and Ginny to be safe under this roof.

Ginny glanced into the kitchen, saw her parents sipping tea, and replied in a low voice to Harry. "I could Floo to Grimmauld Place in a heartbeat, you know that." She hated this separation as much as he did and almost dreaded returning to school without him.

Harry snorted. "And have your mum catch you sneaking out of the house? I'd like to keep some of these bodily functions, thank you."

"Good point, because I quite like those." She smiled wickedly at Harry before she sighed and moved her attention to the mantle place and the pot of Floo powder. She could almost feel the discomfort radiating off of her boyfriend.

"Harry... We don't have to do this. We could tell Kingsley and his office to handle it."

"No." Harry's jaw was set. "It's fine, Ginny. It won't take long."

It was Kingsley who had told Harry earlier this week that the house in Surrey was still unoccupied, and that someone would have to be sent out to check on it- great simple field training for a young Auror. Thus, Harry was assigned the duty of ensuring that Number 4 Privet Drive was without traces of any Dark Magic and signs of Death Eater destruction. Ginny turned back to Harry.

"We're going to Floo?"

Harry gave a small chuckle. "Uncle Vernon boarded up the electric fire place years ago... Remember when your dad and Ron and Fred and George tried to pick me up for the World Cup? We'll have to Aparate to some bushes."

He took Ginny's hand and they waved a good-bye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen on their way to the front door, out to the Apparation point. The sun was hot and the air around them stuffy.

Harry paused, glancing at Ginny. "Grab my arm tightly. We'll Side-Along and land at the side of the house... It's Tuesday?" He glanced at his gold watch. "If I remember properly, Mrs. Tubbins is having tea down the street. She won't be home to see us through her window."

"Ready when you are." Ginny replied, gripping his arm in excitement. She'd never Apparated in any form before, and was looking forward to what she imagined was a swirling rush. She felt Harry turn, and suddenly she was pulled into a suffocating funnel and struggled to breathe until the ground made contact with her feet. Ginny stood still, taking in her surroundings. Like Harry had said, they were quite literally standing in a bush, branches and twigs poking at her. When she turned to face Harry, he was smiling broadly.

"Fun, hm?"

"I think I'd rather a large bottle of Firewhiskey, to be honest."

He laughed as the climbed out of the bushes, and Ginny couldn't help but smile back at him.

"This, Ginny, is Muggle paradise." Harry swung his arms, directing to the houses up and down Privet Drive. They were all identical.

"How on earth would you know which place is yours?" The Burrow was as unique as the Weasley's. "And you're all so close together!" She'd never seen a Muggle community before, and something about how ordinary it was struck her.

Harry shrugged, hands in his pockets. "That's their life. The aunt and uncle love it. C'mon, we'll go through the back door."

They walked away from the street and towards a gate, which Harry reached up to unlatch. The backyard was in even more disrepair than the front yard.

"The grass tickles," Ginny said at they walked to the screen door in the back.

Harry laughed. "Guess no one bothered to carry on with the yard work in their unfortunate absence. The community only looked after the front yard because it affects property values." He reached into his pants pocket for his wand, hiding most of it with his forearm as he muttered "Alohamora!" and watched the door creak slightly open.

"Stay here for just one second." He glanced at Ginny apologetically, afraid she'd think he was being domineering. "I'm going to just do a few preliminary detectors for the all clear. Then we'll get to hunt for some hidden Dark stuff."

She smiled back. "After you, oh Great Auror." He rolled his eyes in reply before he stepped inside.

Ginny stood alone a few moments, taking in more detail on the house. The structure was similar to that of its neighbors, but there appeared to be some damage to the exterior of the second floor window. She thought of the story that Fred and George told her, of rescuing Harry with the Ford Angela. They had barred his window.

Harry poked his head out. "Come on in. There's no one in the inside or anything major like that." She joined Harry in the threshold, noticing the distinct air of abandonment. He scrunched his forehead in thought. "I'll do a quick sweep of the upstairs, Ginny. You can look around down here. Just shout if you find anything."

"Of course." She told him, and moved into the bare living room. What did Kingsley expect them to find here? There was no furniture, no pictures. In the center of the back wall sat the electronic fireplace that her dad had talked on and on about. Ginny sighed and walked the perimeter of the room with her wand held aloft, murmuring the Dark detection charms she learned with the D.A. last year, but she couldn't imagine any sort of magic- dark or not- surviving in this Muggle house. With nothing out the ordinary, she moved into the small dining room and did the same. Sooner than she expected, she heard Harry's footsteps on the staircase and went to meet him.

"All's clear up there," he motioned with his thumb. "It doesn't even look like the Death Eaters made a stop here."

"I've nothing either." Ginny told him and shrugged, and Harry moved towards the kitchen. "This was really your home?" She asked, trailing behind Harry.

"No," he said, stopping in front of a small door beneath the stairs. He opened it, revealing a closet that held what looked to be a pillow and sheets in the corner beneath piles of stored junk. "No. This was a house. Not my home." He closed the door and proceeded into the kitchen. Ginny lingered by the cupboard beneath the stairs for a moment longer and followed, slightly mesmerized by Harry's odd behavior in this place. She had never seen him this uncomfortable. In the kitchen, he waved his wand in a slow circle as he performed the various detector and protection charms about the kitchen, and Ginny watched him quietly until he finished.

"You know this is where I first met Dobby?" Harry had a small smile on his face, reminiscent.

"In a Muggle home?"

"Yeah," He said, and Ginny was pleased to see some of Harry's normal happiness shining through again. "He dropped pudding on Uncle Vernon's boss and his wife. Good old Dobby. And look!" Harry pointed to one of the chairs at the table. "That's where I almost blew up Aunt Marge by accident. Thought I'd be sent to Azkaban for sure."

Ginny smiled, her laugh tinkling through the room as she gripped Harry tightly and placed a quick kiss on his lips. He rested his chin on top her head and sighed.

"I hate this place, Ginny." She could feel his quickened heart rate, his tense muscles, and all she could do was hold him tight.

"I know." She didn't have to say anything more, and they stood together in silence for a moment without any disturbances. The quiet didn't last long.

A crash came from behind, followed by a short small gasp. Harry and Ginny jumped apart, both reaching for their wands. Instead of casting a spell, however, Harry lowered his wand and signaled Ginny to do the same. Harry addressed the intruder coolly.

"Hello, Aunt Petunia."

Ginny raised an eyebrow in derision. This bony, horse faced woman (who was currently clutching her heart and breathing heavily) was part of Harry's terrible childhood. She raised her wand again, slightly out of Harry's sight, and glared at the woman, who looked as if she had seen a ghost. There was a broken flower pot covering the floor now. The woman simply stared more at the two of them.

"Let me help you." Harry bent down to pick up the larger glass pieces by hand and Petunia shakily bent down to help. He turned to look at the red head still standing with her wand in hand.

"Ginny." He said quietly, pausing in his cleaning. "It's alright. Put that away."

And instead of listening to Harry, she pointed her wand at the ground and mumbled "reparo." Immediately the pieces of the pot jumped out of Harry and Petunia's hands and joined back together with a force that made the new pot spin. Harry addressed the dirt on the ground.

"Scorgify." He mumbled with a quick swish of his wand as the dirt disappeared, leaving the flower and roots on the ground. "Smart thinking," he said to Ginny and pocketed his wand. "I fall back to Muggle ways sometimes." He picked up the flower and placed it gently on the counter.

The familiar word "Muggle" finally kicked Petunia back into gear.

"I didn't realize... I thought the house was empty..."

"It was." Ginny told her, and Petunia was pleased to see that she had put away the wand like Harry said. "Harry was sent to inspect the house. Check for anything out of the ordinary. The Ministry couldn't have anyone else do it."

"You can't blame them." Harry smiled ruefully, "They've got their hands full at the moment."

Petunia nodded again, but something was holding her from being fully present. It was as if there was a glass wall between her nephew and Ginny, who was forcing a smile at her. Petunia realized that they had been talking.

"Oh, I'm sorry, what-?"

"I said," Ginny's voice floated through the glass, "that I'm sorry I didn't properly introduce myself. I'm Ginny Weasley."

"My girlfriend." Harry smiled with pride and warmth. Petunia had not blinded herself to young love after all those years with Vernon. She could see that Harry and Ginny clearly went together, and seemed to fit into the other, even when they weren't touching... It was, after all, the way Lily and James had been.

"It's, er, lovely to meet you." Petunia took Ginny's hand, conscious of the callouses and blisters she felt on Ginny's otherwise soft skin as she did so. "I can leave if you two need to, you know... look more." Before Petunia could hasten out the door, away from her nephew and his girlfriend, Harry spoke.

"We're just about done, Aunt Petunia. We can leave you to deal with this place now."

"Thank you, then." There was an uncomfortable silence as Harry and Ginny made their way to the front door beyond her, and Petunia couldn't help but be happy at their departure. Harry opened the door and looked back. "Good bye, Aunt Petunia."

"Good bye, Harry."

Ginny followed him out the door, and Petunia breathed freely. Because earlier, Petunia had seen a ghost when she walked in. Two. For one terrible moment, one terribly glorious moment, she had seen Lily and James once again standing in her home.

How many years had it been since then? Almost twenty, she figured, since her sister had stood inside this kitchen. It hadn't been a pleasant visit in the least bit, that last time she had seen her sister alive.

"Tuney, please. You have to listen to us. If something happens..." Tears filled Lily's eyes, and James grabbed her hand, glancing at Lily's swollen belly.

"I don't want to hear any of this! Petunia screamed shrilly, brandishing the duster at them as menacingly as possible. "Get out of here before Vernon comes home. And don't track any of your filth on my floor." With that, the couple was gone. Lily was crying. James was fuming. And Petunia could never forget it.

It was so silly, Petunia knew, to think about all of this. She'd manage to repress most of it, so why was seeing Harry again such a big deal? She shook her head in an effort to clear it.

That girl was not Lily. Her hair was too orange, and she was too short when she stood next Harry. Lily had green eyes, not Ginny's brown. Lily was always smiling, always able to see the bright side of life, even on the really bad days for their relationship. Lily was dead, not standing in her kitchen. And Harry was too skinny to be James, who could never quench the laughter from his hazel eyes (she tried to remember if she had ever seen Harry laugh), and Harry had the misfortune to inherent Lily's beautiful green eyes. There were days where Petunia screamed at Harry simply for looking at her through his mother's eyes.

Get it together, Petunia, she told herself, rubbing her eyes. Vernon and Dudley will be here soon with the truck. Sighing, Petunia stood up. She set the flower pot on the kitchen counter and reached for the flower that had previously resided in it. A lily. A white, cursed lily that would surly die now that it had been uprooted so disastrously, but Petunia didn't care. She grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water and put the lily inside, near the windowsill. A reminder to her, of all the things she had done to her sister and her nephew. Maybe she'd write to Harry (though she didn't quite know how) and maybe she'd finally make a visit to the Potter's grave. Maybe, she figured, that after all these years, it was time to grow up.