A/N: Written for the Harry/Ginny positivity week on Tumblr. - DG
"This is pointless. Why do I have to go to this bloody affair?"
Ginny pulled her head out of the closet in their bedroom and saw her husband looking at his hair in the bathroom mirror. No matter how hard he tried, it wouldn't cooperate, proving once again that the only thing Harry Potter couldn't defeat in this life was his uncooperative hair.
"You're head of Department for the Aurors, one that is quite important so you have to be there."
He ran a comb through his hair, highlighting the silver streaks at the temples, before throwing the comb down on the vanity.
"It's not like I'm going hat in hand to Kingsley to beg for a budget increase. It's a Halloween party."
Ginny walked in, wearing a dark shade of green robes that clung to her hips and somehow hid her waistline. "And I know you rather spend Halloween at home, drinking a glass of wine and reading reports. Why don't we live it up some?" She winked before pinching his bottom. "And you know most of the family will be there anyway. It's not like you won't have anyone to talk to."
"I'm only going because you look so fetching in those robes. And since I've been too busy these last few months with work to take you out for a proper date," Harry didn't expound further on his thoughts.
"Are you saying you're going to something you have no desire to attend, just so we can have a proper date?" She leaned up and kissed him before returning to their bedroom. "That's almost sweet of you."
"Well, work has been a pain in the arse the last few weeks and since Kingsley said he expected me to show my face there tonight," Harry adjusted the ends of his bow tie and couldn't make his fingers work just right. "Ginny, can you fold this for me? I can't get it right."
Ginny came back into the loo and saw the ends of Harry's bow tie hanging down onto his shirt. "You'd think you could make this work right. Why didn't you use magic?"
"I tried three times and it looked wrong." Harry smiled as Ginny worked deftly to fold it into a semblance of something appropriate. "My fingers just don't quite have the knack," He grinned, "at folding fabric for a bow tie."
She finished folding it just right and kissed him again. "But it's a good thing your fingers have other talents." She winked before departing again. "Now get out of here so I can put on my make-up. If this is a party, I have to look my best."
Harry slid in behind her before kissing her on the cheek and neck. "You already do, with our without make-up."
"And if I go without makeup, I'm sure it'll hit the social pages the next day. 'Ginny Weasley, intrepid reporter, can't afford make-up for a formal affair. Why is this mother of 3 letting her looks go? You'd think they'd give me a pass for being 40 now."
"Rita wouldn't dare, not after you put her on her arse at the Quidditch World Cup last year." Ginny dabbled some blush on her cheeks and pulled the compact to add color to her eyes.
"It doesn't mean she wouldn't have some other bint write it."
Harry laughed before leaving. "Fine. Put your second face on then we can go. But remember, put on the jewelry too. I don't want anyone saying I don't spend my galleons on my dear wife."
"Harry Potter. Fancy seeing you here this evening."
Harry turned and saw the glasses of the much older and considerably shorter witch, standing inside his personal space. "Finally going to relent to that long-awaited interview I've deigned to beg for?"
Ron stepped to Harry's side, handing him a glass of elf-made wine. "Rita, how nice to see you?" Ron smiled but it wasn't friendly. "You know if you are requesting an interview with Harry that you have to go through his scheduling agent. I'm sure she would be more than happy to work you in."
Rita scowled. "Ms. Granger pointedly ignores my requests for interviewing Mr. Potter. She rebuffs me constantly, stating 'my previous articles concerning Harry were malignant, cruel, and downright libelous'. That's not true in the least."
"And would that be because you're a nosy dung beetle?"
Rita stalked away, muttering terribly rude and blasted friends.
"Thanks for that," Harry retorted.
"Don't you forget it, me protecting you from the various lethifolds who circle you."
"Ron," Percy slapped him on the back while holding his own glass of wine. "Mind if I speak with Harry some? I've got some questions about work."
"Ron," he turned to see his sister next to him. "Why don't you join your family that's talking Quidditch gossip?" She stood up on the toes of her four inch heels to kiss him on the cheek. "Sorry Love, but I'll rescue you from him shortly."
"Harry," Hermione slid up next to Harry and Percy. "I need to talk with both you and Percy regarding the docket for next week."
Ron laughed before departing work talk. "Sorry mate but that conversation isn't for my ears." He departed with his sister for the buffet bar and another beverage.
"Now Harry, I know the mission is scheduled for 3am Sunday. But why are you and Hermione involved?"
"Sorry, Percy, but that's classified. But Hermione and I have to be on-site for it, regardless."
"Word will leak out on this, you realize it."
"Oh I know. But the sensitivity of the mission requires that we be there." Harry took a sip of his wine. "Hermione and I won't be involved until the mission is completed, but we have to be there because of established protocols."
"You're taking a huge risk, taking her," Percy looked at Hermione pointedly, "out with you on a mission."
"And the only reason she's going to be present is because of who the mission is focused on. Otherwise, I'd let her sleep at home with the kids while the Aurors handle it."
"Ron's going to go mental when you tell him."
"No he won't." Hermione stood up taller in her maroon robes. "Because he knows Harry will be there and we'll be fine."
"I hope to Merlin you're right."
"Percy, relax. It'll be over long before anything else happens."
"But Hermione, about you being there," Percy continued but Harry tuned him out. He finished his glass of wine while Hermione talked further with Percy. They got animated enough that Harry pulled his wand and cast a non-verbal spell around his brother and sister-in-law.
He looked out among the crowd and saw so many gathered. Molly and Arthur came to the party. They enjoyed the dinner but then made their way to the dance floor without leaving it. The slow music was perfect for them, dancing the night away. Maybe George or Ginny bribed the band to play for them a spell.
His family was mostly present, all except Bill and Charlie. Even Angelina dragged George in, somehow. Then again, Angelina had talents most women didn't possess. Ginny did.
Harry lifted another glass of wine from a passing waiter and watched his in-laws continue to dance on the floor. But then there was Ginny.
She was standing near the bar with her brothers and aforementioned Angelina, talking Quidditch, most likely. There was some talk that she'd be sent to Cairo to cover the Mediterranean matches at Christmas time. It would be a nice Holiday, even if she was working while they were there.
Maybe he'd imitate his in-laws and pull her to the dance floor. She loved to dance, even if he was mostly two left feet. Maybe he could imitate them, if he had –
"Harry," his wife's smaller hand slipped into his. "Come dance with me."
He looked down and saw his wife flushed. "How many have you had, love?"
"Two Firewhiskeys only, dear." She purred while trying to spur him onto the dance floor. "It's just enough to be slightly silly and wanting to dance with my husband."
Harry finished his glass of wine in two swallows before following his vivacious wife out onto the dance floor. Ginny waved her hand towards the band and a swinging jazz beat started up, full of energy and enticement. She started moving her feet, letting him swing her around while barely moving much. He hadn't heard it before but he knew his wife would show him what to do.
He moved his feet, trying to keep up with his wife in some form he remembered decades ago. She moved fluidly, from the hours spent dancing in her youth in the clubs while traveling with the Harpies. He didn't enjoy dancing, only because it was loud and crowded in the places she loved to go. But this, with some space and with his wand in the holster on his arm was enough to quell his anxiety.
"I don't know why we don't do this more," She purred in his ear for a moment before moving energetically. "You know I love dancing."
His hands moved to her hips, holding her close while she did a complicated move that he'd never fathom. "This is nice, but most of your favorite places are loud, crowded, and stink of drunk people."
"Too bad there isn't a club like this, with limited people where we can dance the night away." She moved her hips over his and he started stirring. "And there's loud, pissed people here too."
The music abruptly changed to a modern dance number and Ginny grinned like a loon. "You know this one," she smirked before starting to move in ways that were extremely enticing. "Dance with me, or I'll dance with somebody who will."
He growled to himself and grabbed her close, moving more than comfort. He pulled her into his body, letting her feel what she still did to him. "You wanna dance, or you wanna dance?" He leaned over and snogged her hotly. He broke it first, hearing a snicker from next to him. A young inebriated couple was imitating them.
"Whoops," Ginny laughed before continuing to dance with him. Her movements were fast and sharp, twirling him around with her. Harry smiled, watching his wife show glimpses of her private side, not like the various masks she wore for others. This Ginny, the one who was do drunk on life, even with the shit she'd lived through. This Ginny was the one who seduced his soul daily. This is the woman who married him, bore him three children, and helped him come to terms with the shit in his life.
She spun around to grind her arse on his trousers. "Dance with me, Harry."
He put his hands on her hips and dipped down with her, imitating the kids dancing next to them. "Wish we didn't have an audience," he muttered to himself.
Ginny spun around again, throwing her arms around him. "Why? Ready for some other dancing, something you'd enjoy?" She moved around him, dancing fast enough to perspire. "Move your broom, Harry."
His hands reached out to her, and they started twirling on the floor. His feet moved of their own will while his wife followed along. Each step brought her closer to him, giving some friction to keep the edge off.
"Let's go home, Harry."
He looked around the dance floor and saw other couples imitating them. Arthur and Molly were nowhere to be seen either, unlike George and Angelina. Even Ron and Hermione were present, dancing to themselves on the other side.
"You sure? It might be a couple of months before you can go dancing again."
"I can always get Luna to go if I'm hard up for a dancing date."
"Suit yourself." He pulled his wife from the dance floor and departed the room, intending to stop by the cloak room to get their things before travelling the few blocks home – and into her eagerly awaiting arms.