Chapter One

Ginny rolled onto the bed next to Harry, exhaling happily. "Once again, babe, you manage to outdo yourself every time."

Harry smiled rather sleepily. "You weren't too shabby yourself. As usual."

Ginny grinned at her boyfriend and pulled the sheet up over her chest. "And now, you've got to get to work. I can't have worn you out already."

"Forget work," Harry murmured, brushing Ginny's tousled hair from her neck and kissing the bare skin. "I want to stay with you."

"No way, lazy bones," she replied, her voice soft. "Come on, up you get. Let's get a shower."

"Now there's something to get me out of bed," Harry said, practically jumping off the mattress. "Are you coming?"

When Harry had Flooed off to the Auror Office, Ginny poured herself a second cup of coffee and sat staring out her kitchen window. Her life was perfect. She and Harry lived in the much cheerier and cleaner Number 12 Grimmauld Place, and had for nearly two months. She and Hermione were still best friends and saw each other often. She worked part-time with George - when Ginny had agreed to move in with Harry she'd insisted on working still, and Harry had reluctantly compromised on a part-time job. They had more money than Ginny had ever thought about, enough to keep her parents comfortable and happy and to buy clever gifts for her beloved niece and nephews. Her goddaughter, Victoire, was two years old and perfect.

And yet, something was wrong.

She couldn't quite figure out why, but Ginny had been restless. She couldn't even tell when it had started; it seemed to come on gradually until she could barely sit still sometimes. She had joined a Muggle pottery class and ended up surreptitiously charming her work when she didn't have the patience for manual labor. She'd joined a Quidditch club team, but hadn't found anything exciting (or anyone under the age of forty). She'd even gone to a book club with Hermione, but once she found that every hero was a thinly veiled model of her boyfriend, she'd had to give that up. She was constantly trying new things, always looking for somewhere to go or something to do.

"But why?" Ginny asked herself aloud, putting her mug in the sink. "I have everything I could possibly want at my fingertips. Or in my bank account - well, Harry's, anyway. I've got a house, a boyfriend, I don't want kids yet, I've got friends, a nice job, elder brothers that aren't complete prats, Victoire…"

Her voice trailed off as she absently picked up the Daily Prophet. Harry always read it while she cooked breakfast or got ready, and she could do what she liked with it when he left for work. She flipped to the classifieds section, sort of idly hoping there would be something of interest there - in vain, as always. Checking the clock on the stove, Ginny decided to negate her shower on a run around the neighborhood before work. At least she'd be out of the house.

"Hi, George," Ginny called as she closed the back door behind her.

"Someone's early," the one-eared redhead retorted from somewhere in the shop. Ginny deposited her broom and coat on the shelves provided and went in to find her brother.

"You're not even supposed to start work for another half hour," George remarked from the top of a ladder. "Send up that box, will you?"

With a wave of her wand, Ginny sent a crate of Skiving Snackboxes flying up to George. "I know, I figured you might want some help. Couldn't you do all that shelving by magic?"

"I'd lose the personal touch," George chuckled. "Besides, I've got some extra time. Alicia's gone off to Africa to visit her father."

Ginny shook her head. "You should take a cue from your girlfriend and go off somewhere yourself. You've got me, Verity, and Ernie to mind the shop and I'm sure some other people could help out, in a pinch."

"You make it sound like I've locked myself away in my work," George scoffed, clambering off the ladder with more speed than grace. "Truth is, little sis, I think you're the one that wants to get away for a while. In fact, I don't see why you haven't."

Ginny frowned. She had gone traveling last year, before she'd moved in with Harry. She'd been doing a stint as a columnist for the Daily Prophet and had done some profiles on Curse Breakers around the world. Bill had given her a list of his friends to interview, and Ginny had loved traveling everywhere from Mexico to Egypt to India and back… But now that she lived with Harry, traveling alone sounded rude at best and at worst impossible. The thought of traveling with her boyfriend was vaguely pleasant, but only vaguely.

Ginny condensed this dilemma into a dismissive wave of her hand. "You know I've traveled a lot already, George, before I put myself here," she said. "You, on the other hand, have had both feet firmly on English soil for longer than I can remember."

"I guess I just like it here," George said, shouldering a box of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder carefully. "I don't have anything to draw me away from here."

"You don't want to see the wonders of the world, Georgie?" Ginny asked playfully, stacking love potions on a heart-themed display that made her feel nauseous.

"I've got all the wonders I need at home, here," George said. "They never cease, you know."

And that's when Hermione burst through the back door.