Pub Nights
They had a standing date to meet at the pub. Every other Monday evening there was a table reserved for them at The Quiet Witch. Nobody bothered them there, and Harry didn't have to hide his face or feel like he should use Polyjuice just to have a pint.
The pub was not as popular as the Leaky Cauldron, or the Three Broomsticks, but Harry liked it better. Fewer crowds, and it was clean enough, as far as pubs went. The best part was, the owners didn't care who he was and had never once asked him to use his name or face for advertising. As far as he knew, the same witches and wizards who frequented the pub before he started coming were the same ones that continued coming after he'd made it a regular haunt.
Ron was late, but then he usually was. Harry had gotten used to it and just ordered his pint at the same time. Ron had never complained that his beer was warm. Occasionally, another friend would join them-Hermione, Seamus, Dean, or even Neville. They would laugh and joke about old times and were rarely serious, which is exactly what they all needed.
The Weasley Twins had come once, but after a rather raucous game of wizarding darts had been forever banned. They seemed to take it as a compliment and reciprocally banned the owner of The Quiet Witch, Hank, from their shop in Diagon Alley. There was a sort of ongoing, although good-natured, feud going on between them. Harry tried not to know details and did his best to just stay out of the way of it all.
Tonight Hermione was going to visit her parents-something she did often on their pub nights-and Ron had already told Harry that he planned to get completely pissed. He had the day off tomorrow and said he'd earned it by listening to Oliver Wood scream at him from the sidelines for six hours today.
Although they'd planned to enter Auror training together, when the offer to play backup Keeper for Ron's beloved Chudley Cannons had come, Ron had jumped at the chance. And Harry didn't blame him. If he'd had any idea what he was getting into by joining the Ministry, he might have taken another job offer-any job!
"Good, you're already here," Ron said as he reached over the back of the seat Harry was sitting in to snatch his pint off the table. He drank deep and long before wiping the froth off his upper lip. "Order me another while I visit the loo, will you?"
Harry just laughed and waved his friend on. He signaled Hank to order. The rail-thin, extremely tall man with huge, bushy eyebrows sent another couple of pints zooming his way.
When Ron joined him, Harry and he just stared at each other before cracking up. Both were completely disheveled. Harry glanced down at himself-a mess from his mission over the past several days-and then at Ron, who looked as if he'd been flying drills in a hurricane.
"Undercover mission," Harry grumbled. "Been three days without a shower, ate stale food from a tin, slept on the ground."
Their game of one-up-manship was another tradition, ever since their Divination days.
Ron just scoffed. "You've not had Bloody Oliver Wood losing his mind on the sidelines, screaming at you all day. Injured reserve, my arse. Ran four sets of stairs. Drills until my arms are ready to fall off. Quaffle to the head at least four times."
Like always, they let the comparisons die on the table. Both had been through enough over the past years that there was no competitiveness left in the friendship, despite what it might look like from the outside.
"Wood rides your arse like Robards rides mine," Harry said.
Ron made a face. Harry and Auror Director Robards hadn't gotten along since Harry's first day in training and their head-butting arguments were a thing of legend in the Ministry. Harry threatened to quit at least three times a year, and was probably fired more times than he knew. But the Ministry was sticking to his magically signed contract and no argument was going to override any of it. Harry was stuck.
And he loved the job, just not who he worked with.
"How's the kid?"
Harry smiled. Teddy was the highlight of his life and the best part of his days, when he got to spend time with the boy. "He's great."
"Learn to fly yet?"
"Almost," said Harry. "Andromeda let me actually take him up the other day, not just on the hovering broom. He loved it, like I knew he would."
Ron sipped at his drink and sunk lower in the booth, finally relaxing. "Yeah, well we both knew he would. She just needs to lighten up. You're not going to get him killed or anything."
Harry snorted and drank from his own glass. "Yeah, well…." Andromeda Tonks had not been thrilled when Harry had shown up at her door not long after the Final Battle and told her that Remus had named him as Godfather to little Teddy. In fact, Andromeda had slammed the door in his face. It had taken Harry several weeks of returning and making all sorts of promises for her to give in and let him inside.
"I don't really blame her," he said. "She's lost so much. Teddy is all she has left."
Ron made a face and signalled to Hank, ordering Firewhisky instead of just beer. He also pointed to a few things on the menu and received a wave that promised they would be out soon.
"How's Hermione?"
"Lost her mind," Ron grumbled. "If I'd known what I was getting into by proposing…"
"You'd have still done it."
"Yeah, probably."
They shared a look and laughed. Harry had been over to their place and seen Hermione's copious charts detailing everything that needed to be accomplished before the wedding. She was determined that everything would be perfectly in place long before their date drew close.
"And the family?"
"Good," Ron grunted. "Bill sent a picture of his new girlfriend. She's pretty."
"That's nice."
"Oh! I just remembered. Mum said that Ginny is moving back."
"Really?" Harry sat up slightly. Ginny Weasley was a complete mystery, of sorts. Immediately following Harry's rescue from the Chamber of Secrets, she'd been whisked away by the Ministry and shipped off to Beauxbatons. None of it made sense to Harry, but somehow they'd convinced Molly and Arthur that it was for Ginny's best interest and safety to get her far from Hogwarts where the memories of her possession by Tom Riddle might haunt her and do irreparable damage.
The nasty press coverage directed by the Malfoy family hadn't helped things. They'd never been able to prove for sure, but Harry was convinced that it was Lucius Malfoy who planted the diary with Ginny.
Ginny had spent the remainder of her school years in France, and, according to Ron and Mrs. Weasley, she'd spent several more years there with some sort of art internship or other. Harry was a little fuzzy on the details. He hadn't even seen Ginny in all the years of being friends with the Weasleys. They were meant to spend several Christmases together, but things seemed to always come up-a training mission for Harry, some exhibit that Ginny needed to take part in. He'd even seen some of her work-Mrs. Weasley had a published book sitting on one of the end tables at the Burrow with Ginny's photography in it. Harry'd thumbed through it a time or two, in awe of the shots she got from all over the world.
"What's bringing her back here?"
"No clue," Ron said with a shrug. "You know Ginny, always off to some place or other. She'll never settle down."
Harry wanted to point out that he didn't know Ginny at all, but it was a moot point. Ron usually got agitated when anyone talked about Ginny, and Harry wasn't in the mood to put up with it, so he let it go.
"Last I heard she was dating some bloke over there. I went over for that World Quidditch Conference last year, and it was just...strange."
Harry nodded, remembering how out of sorts Ron had been about it all. It had taken him several weeks to get over the trip, and Harry never really figured out why.
"She's just so...French now," he grumbled.
"Well, yeah," Harry said. "She's lived over there for more than eight years. I'd imagine some of the culture rubbed off."
"I couldn't even understand her." Ron scowled into his drink. "And she took me around to all these fancy places." He shook his head. "I didn't even recognize her anymore."
Harry wasn't sure what to say. He had no insight into siblings or their interactions with each other. After all these years, the Weasley siblings still mystified him. The closest he got was his friendship with Hermione, but she sometimes came off more like a mother than a sibling, at least with him.
"So, you plan Portree next week?"
Ron sat up, his face brightening. "Yeah. Oh, it's going to be a great game, Harry. You should get the day off so you can come. Their seeker-"
Three weeks later, Harry was back in the pub, glancing at his watch, still waiting for Ron to arrive. Harry had been sent to Spain for an Auror exchange at the last minute and missed not only two pub nights, but several Weasley Family Dinners, too. He'd just gotten back to England today and was still out of sorts from all the travel.
The place was suspiciously empty and Hank, the owner, was the only one in the place. He whistled the same annoying tune over and over while polishing glasses one right after the other.
"Rather quiet tonight."
Hank just grunted and kept on whistling. Harry continued to sip at his pint, eyeing Ron's which was getting steadily warmer.
After twenty minutes, a group of young wizards showed up. They gave Harry's booth a quick glance, but paid him little mind as they took over a corner and continued their conversation. Harry had half a mind to leave, but with nothing to go home to even that prospect sounded bleak. He hadn't even unpacked before coming straight to the pub.
Forty minutes and Harry had drained three drinks himself. He'd left Ron's original pint full on the table out of spite.
Several other groups had come in, including a few witches who paid a little more attention to Harry. He wasn't interested, mostly because it sounded like so much work to chat someone up and try to determine if they were impressed by him or the scar. Harry dated, just not often, and he'd never had someone he could really call a girlfriend.
There was a visiting Auror from Germany once who he thought might work out, but she hadn't been interested in much more than a few nights together and some good memories she could recall later in life, he supposed, and had returned swiftly once her exchange time had ended. That was more than a year ago. Both Ron and Hermione nagged him to try a little harder, but he was only twenty-two. There was plenty of time.
The noise level in the pub began go climb. Hank turned on the wireless in the corner, twisting the volume knob up until there was a hum of music playing under all the conversations. Harry moved himself up to the bar, abandoning his booth when a group of couples complained to Hank about the lack of seating. Ron's beer had been discarded.
Harry glanced at his watch and vowed that if Ron was more than an hour late and sent no word, Harry would just go home. It wasn't unheard of for Ron to get caught up in something and forget their pub night completely. Harry wasn't worried; his best friend could take care of himself.
The door chimed, but Harry didn't bother looking around. He finished off his drink and turned to go. But there was someone walking behind him and he rammed into her, nearly knocking them both over in his haste.
"Sorry!"
"Oh!"
They both looked at each other, slow smiles spreading.
"Harry?"
"Ginny, right?"
Awkward laughter followed as Harry tried to untangle himself from her without knocking her over further. He recognized her immediately, not only from the framed photos that Mrs. Weasley kept around the Burrow, but also the professional one in the back of her book-although that one had been in black and white.
"You grew your hair out." It slipped out and Harry bit his lip when her eyes went wide.
"Oh. Yeah, I did." She reached up and wrapped the end of her ponytail around her finger. "How did-"
"Your mum," Harry stammered. "SHe has your book at the Burrow. I like...I like to look at the pictures in it."
"Oh." Ginny smiled at him and nodded slowly. "You look...about the same as I'd remembered, only…"
"Older. Yeah."
They both laughed and Harry found that he wasn't all that annoyed anymore.
"Sorry!" Harry burst out. "You're probably here to meet someone. I didn't...I don't…" He gestured around, feeling embarrassed that he'd not only knocked her over, but was probably keeping her from a date, or friends, or someone.
"Not at all," Ginny said. "I was just...alone, actually. Feeling a bit sorry for myself. Thought I'd get a drink or two before heading home."
"Oh." Feeling like an idiot, Harry glanced toward his usual booth, but it was full. "I mean...did you...you could join me?"
There was still an open place at the bar where Harry had been sitting.
"Were you leaving?"
Harry rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head, then nodded. "No. I mean, well, yeah. I was waiting for Ron, but he must have forgotten, or fallen asleep or something, so…. I was thinking about leaving, but there's nothing home for me to do besides laundry."
Ginny smiled and Harry felt even stupider for going on and on.
"I'd like that," Ginny said. "To join you, I mean."
Harry pulled out a stool for her and signaled to Hank. "Er...first round's on me. What do you want?"
"Just a beer," Ginny said. "I miss beer."
Hank slid two tall glasses down the bar toward them and Harry watched as Ginny took a long drink from hers.
"Do they not have beer in France?"
She laughed. "No, they do. I just...well, to be honest, most of the places I have to go for work and such are a little too...fancy for beer. They serve wine and all sorts of fancy mixed drinks." She made a face and Harry laughed at the way her nose scrunched up. It was...cute.
"I usually just order whatever I see others drinking." She finished with a weak shrug and took another sip. "There are certain...expectations, I guess you could say, when you are in a visible profession. I mean, you'd think that because I'm behind the camera-"
"I know," Harry burst out. "I know exactly what you mean." And he did. There were always eyes watching him, waiting for him to make some mistake so they could splash it all over the tabloids, or the headlines in the Daily Prophet.
Ginny's face flushed. "Of course, you would."
"No, I mean…" Harry shook his head and ran his finger along the moisture collecting on the bar top. "But you can't let it stop you from living your life. At some point in time, you've got to tell yourself that...that it's okay if not everyone approves of what you're doing, that your life is your own."
"That's really...insightful, Harry." Her cheeks flamed and Harry was transported back in time, remembering how she would turn red and stammer around him when she was younger. He focused behind the bar at the rows of Hank's clean cups and sipped at his pint.
"You're...not what I expected."
Harry blinked. "What do you mean?"
Ginny turned to face him, spinning in her chair completely. Her knees brushed his thigh and Harry turned his head to look at her.
"I mean I guess all these years I've built up this whole idea of who you are-"
"Great."
But she smiled. "It's not all bad, I promise. And it's not all from the press clippings and such. I mean, Mum writes to me every week. And the others write here and there. Ron never stops talking about you-Hermione, either. It's like the sun rises and sets over Harry Potter." She finished with a wink and Harry felt his cheeks flame.
"I don't...that's not…." But he huffed and just looked at her. "That's not who I am."
"I know. That's what I'm saying. I mean, I guess it's no secret that I had a bit of a crush on you when I was younger."
Harry liked the way her cheeks still turned red.
"I'm sure it went away after you left."
"Quite the opposite, actually." She laughed and shook her head. "After you saved me, well...I was pretty obsessed for a few months. But then, I got to thinking that it wasn't really fair of me to put you in a place like that, even if it was in my own mind. I mean, you had flaws-"
Harry scoffed and drained the last of his pint. "Still do, I assure you."
"-and I wasn't around to put those into proper place in my mind. And...distance helped, I think."
"So you don't…" He trailed off, not sure the question was proper to ask. Ginny's feelings, whatever they were, were her own to share with him, if she wanted. He had no business prying.
A sly smile spread across her face. "Are you asking if I still fancy you?"
He coughed and glanced around at the busy pub. He hadn't even noticed the crowds coming and going. It was half full now, just stragglers, really left. "No! I mean, I guess I'm curious, but…"
"Don't worry, Harry. I've grown up since then." Her hand came up and rested on his arm and he glanced down at it. The urge to touch her, to take her hand in his was great, but he clasped his glass tighter. Why was he having these thoughts? He barely knew Ginny Weasley!
"Oh."
She let her hand slide away and finished off the last of her drink. Hank sent two more sliding toward them automatically. "Am I at all what you'd imagined?"
"No," Harry said before he could think. "I mean… Well, I guess it's the same sort of thing, in a way. I only have stories to go on, right? I could only build this idea of you from the few interactions we had-which I can vaguely remember after all these years-and the things that your Mum or Dad say when I'm around. Ron talks about you enough, I guess."
"I'm sure," Ginny scoffed. "He makes it very clear that he doesn't approve of my choices in life."
"He says you're too French."
They shared a look and a smile.
"Fried potatoes are too French for Ron," she said with a roll of her eyes.
"And the others, well...they don't really talk much about you, honestly. At least not to me."
Ginny got a strange smile on her face and shook her head. "Yeah, my family doesn't really know me at all anymore. I mean, I left when I was twelve. How could they?"
She had a point, Harry decided. She'd been gone from England during the entire war, and for several years after. He only remembered her as a vague idea, not as a person complete in herself. He'd saved her from the Chamber, but then she'd been whisked away hours later and he hadn't spoken to her since. He knew that various siblings, and even her parents, had gone to visit her. And she'd been home here and there-always missed by Harry for some reason-but she'd really immersed herself in where she lived.
The idea that she had a whole other life away from this place was rather shocking, actually, when he thought about it. She'd lived over there for so long that she had to have friends, speak the language fluently, know the best places to eat, know the shortcuts through the streets to get where she wanted to go. And she'd done it on her own.
A whole new appreciation for who Ginny Weasley was was blooming in his mind. Harry looked at her-really looked-and thought that even though she looked a lot the same, he barely recognized the girl he once knew. This new woman was whole with her own likes and dislikes, mannerisms, and personality. And he thought she was rather...beautiful.
"You said earlier that you were feeling sorry for yourself," he said. "Why?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Because it's Single's Awareness Day."
"What?"
"It's Valentine's Day, Harry. And I came to a pub alone."
He'd had no idea! When he thought about the day, it should have registered, he guessed, but there was really no way for him to judge those kinds of things.
"Oh. Yeah. I forgot."
"I was surprised when you said that Ron planned to meet you here tonight."
"It's Monday," Harry said. "We meet every Monday." Now that she said something, though, Harry did remember Ron saying something about Valentine's Day. Harry hadn't paid attention since it was just another day of the week for him. "I just got home," he said, as an excuse.
"From Spain," Ginny said with a nod. "Mum told me. She never stops talking about you, either."
The first awkward silence descended on them and they both looked around the room. Harry wasn't sure what to say to get them back to where they were comfortable talking. He ran through some Quidditch stories in his head, but discarded them quickly. He didn't know if Ginny even liked Quidditch or not.
"I thought you were seeing someone," he finally asked. "You shouldn't be alone on a day like today."
Ginny's brow furrowed. "Who said…? Nevermind. I'm sure Ron said something. I haven't seen anyone in ages, Harry. I mean, I date now and again, but…." She sighed.
"Why would he tell me that, then? Just last week when he told me you were coming home."
"Why does Ron do anything he does?" she scoffed. "I'm sorry. You probably think I'm too bitter. Ron is...well, he's Ron. He has these preconceived ideas in his head about who I should be and there's not a whole lot of room for me to wiggle in those shoes, if you know what I mean."
Harry thought about that and nodded slowly. "Yeah. I can see that."
"When he visited, he hated my flat, hated my roommate, complained about the food, didn't like the traffic, couldn't understand the language, thought everyone was rude, and couldn't even get a decent beer." Her eyebrow rose and Harry saw a bit of mischief there that reminded him of Fred and George. "Nothing we did was fun, and he didn't really even want to see anything. He refused to fly to the top of the Eiffel Tower, Harry!"
He could picture Ron crossing his arms in stubbornness and shaking his head when Ginny suggested it.
"I had hoped that maybe with him seeing that I liked it over there, that I was happy-at least for awhile-that he might stop telling me to come home, or regaling me with tales of everything that goes on back here. It's like he still sees me as this twelve year old kid who put their life on hold for eight years. He's allowed to grow up and change, but I'm expected to be exactly the same as I was when I left here. And when I did show him who I was, he didn't like it and wants me to change.
"I like who you are." Harry hadn't meant to say it out loud, but he was feeling a decent buzz from what he'd had to drink. He hadn't eaten anything before apparating to The Quiet Witch, and that probably didn't help. But, somehow, he thought that he might like Ginny Weasley even without the drinks softening his view.
"It's hot in here," she said, more to herself than to Harry, he thought.
"Do you want to get out of here? Go for a walk?" Harry pointed to the window, where they could see snow softly falling, blanketing the street.
"Yeah."
Harry paid Hank, settling both tabs, and helped Ginny slide her cloak on before putting his own over his shoulders. They didn't say anything more as they walked outside, both buttoning up tighter against the cold.
"I like the snow," Ginny said. She held out her hand and let a group of flakes land there, watching as the heat from her skin melted them. They fell along her shoulders, and on the knit hat she'd pulled on, too, little polka dots of white against the dark yarn.
They started walking, side by side, shoulders brushing now and again as they slipped and slid along the sidewalk.
"Did you really read my book?"
"Yeah. Several times. I thought about getting one for myself, too," Harry said. "Just haven't taken the time."
"They only published them in France," Ginny said. "That's why it's all in French. Bill helped me do a translation spell on Mum's. That's why it reads a little wonky." She kicked a little pile of snow out in front of them, laughing as it fluttered down into the pristine snow of the sidewalk, making little dimples.
"I wondered."
"I've got an extra one you can have."
"I'd like that."
"What...what do you like about it?"
Harry thought back to the photographs she'd taken, remembering the few that were his favorite. He'd spent long minutes staring at them, trying to decide why such ordinary things like lamp posts, buildings, and streets were so fascinating.
"It's the movement," he finally said.
"Harry!" Ginny wound her hand into the crook of his arm. "I purposely didn't charm them to move. It's one reason that Ron hates my work, I think."
"No, there's movement there," Harry said. "You just have to see it in your mind, not with magic. The one with the red flowers in the window box. In the edge of the frame, you can just see a bit of pale skin, like a hand reaching out toward the flowers. I just...I imagined a woman passing by, touching them as she passed."
"The photographs were black and white, Harry." She scolded him, but there was a pride in her tone, as if she was thrilled that maybe he could see something that she'd seen. "Magical Snapdragons. The woman there is the one who planted them. When you brush them, they snap at you and belch fire. She was showing me. I took the photograph just after they belched. I didn't want to show the magic."
"You wanted us to see it for ourselves." It made sense to Harry, but he'd also grown up muggle, understanding some things that Magical people took for granted.
"How did you know they were red?" Ginny leaned her head against his shoulder and Harry pulled her in closer to him, his arm going around her.
"I didn't, not for sure," he said. "I just...imagined it."
Ginny stopped walking and looked up at him, her lip caught between her teeth. "You're really not like anyone I've ever met before, Harry." There was a blazing look in her eyes and Harry felt himself lean forward, pressing his lips to hers.
She squeaked a little in surprise, but clung to him, matching his fervor.
"Do you mind?" Harry asked when they broke apart.
"That you kissed me?!" Ginny threw her head back in a full laugh. "Not at all. I was trying to find the right time to do it myself."
Harry felt a bit out of control, light headed and filled with more joy than he'd remembered feeling in a long time. He could hardly feel the cold outside anymore; he just felt warm where Ginny was pressed against him.
"I want to kiss you again," he said.
"What's stopping you?"
"We're in the middle of the sidewalk. Anyone could walk by." He tugged at a bit of red hair that stuck out of her cap, brushing his fingers along it.
"You know how to fix that, Harry." The look she gave him lit a fire deep down inside.
"My flat is a mess. I just got home today. Haven't unpacked at all."
"Mine is full of boxes. And a roommate."
"My place it is." He closed his eyes, trying to focus, and took her with him.
A shyness overcame Harry when they arrived. He let his arms fall away from her, and fumbled for her hand as she took it all in.
Questions rocketed in his mind like a Wildfire Whiz-bang. Did GInny mean what he thought she meant by coming here? Could they really…? And what would happen if they did?
"I like it." She gave a firm nod, approving his cramped flat. It wasn't much, but it was his own.
"It's a mess." He hoped she didn't mind the stacks of mail on the table, or the suitcase laying open in the middle of the hallway.
She tugged off her hat and cloak, dropping them on the end of the sofa before moving in closer, winding her hands past his cloak and clinging to him. "Harry, I didn't come to see your flat." Her breath was warm on his chin, her nose almost brushing his.
"Yeah?"
She initiated the kiss this time and Harry let himself follow, an intoxicating rush of feeling pulling him under. He felt her tongue brush his. He felt her fingers in the spaces between the yarn of his jumper, twisting in the cabling. He felt the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed against him. He felt all of her.
He took several steps, pushing her back toward the wall next to the fireplace. As lightheaded as he felt, he needed something solid to hold him up. Ginny continued kissing him, her hand rising up to bury in his hair, holding the back of his neck.
They only broke apart for air before continuing again.
"Are you drunk, Ginny?" Harry asked as he adjusted his skewed glasses.
"Not at all. Are you worried about my virtue, or yours?"
Harry thought about that for a moment, but her hands were doing wonderful things to him, and he decided that he just didn't care anymore. "Maybe both." He leaned in and kissed her again, burying his fingers in her hair.
Ginny pulled away just enough to speak. "No need to worry. You're safe with me."
He laughed and wrapped his arms around her. "Okay."
He woke up with Ginny still at his side, her face pressed into his bicep. She was curled toward him, the sheet and blanket wrapped in her arm as she slept. Her hair was a riot of color against the white sheets and Harry liked seeing it there. It reminded him of the red flowers in her photograph.
Last night had been brilliant. And early this morning, too.
There was something there between them that Harry had never experienced with anyone he'd ever dated-or even been interested in. A spark, he decided, for lack of a better word. And he had absolutely no idea where it was going to go, if anywhere, but for now, he was happy.
He closed his eyes and let the memories replay, seeing flashes of her pale, perfect skin in his mind. They'd had fun getting to know each other in so many different ways.
"Morning."
She peeked one eye open and smiled. Harry couldn't help but turn and gather her to him, tugging linens out of the way so that he could touch her again.
"Morning."
He felt like an idiot. A happy idiot. Staring at her, grinning, and feeling that same burning from last night down deep in his chest.
"Hungover?"
"Told you last night that I wasn't drunk." She arched and Harry snuck a peek as the sheet drifted lower, revealing more flesh to his hungry eyes.
"Good."
She rolled toward him, sliding her leg between his, her hand finding a home on his hip. "Do you have to work today?"
"Yeah."
Her lip came out in a small pout that he wanted to kiss away. There wasn't much of her that he didn't want to kiss, actually.
"That's the beauty of working for yourself, I guess," she said.
"What're you going to do now that you're home?" he asked. "I meant to ask last night, but…"
She grinned and ran her toes up the back of his calf. "Yeah, we got a little distracted,didn't we?"
The urge to get distracted again almost overtook Harry, but he felt a little greedy and tamped it back down.
"I want to do another book, honestly. One that actually sells better this time."
"I'd buy it."
"You don't even know what it's about," she protested. "What if it's nudes?"
Harry blinked at her, his mouth going dry. "Er…"
But Ginny just laughed. "It won't be. That's not my style." His fingers dug into her side and she squirmed, but didn't pull away. "I like architecture. Can you imagine a book about Hogwarts?" She hummed in absolute pleasure and Harry knew that he wanted to hear that sound over and over again.
"I'd buy it," he said. "A hundred of them."
"Is it weird how not weird this is?" Ginny asked. "I mean, we don't really know each other."
"Don't we?" Harry asked. "I feel like i've known you forever."
"Me too."
"And I don't know if it's weird or not. I don't do this often." He felt his face heat.
"Me either." Ginny pressed a kiss to his collarbone.
"And it's not like we have to define it," Harry said. "We have time."
It seemed like an unspoken understanding between them. This wasn't one night. And it wasn't a drunken mistake. It was something that they both wanted to explore, a connection that hadn't existed before she'd taken a seat next to him at the pub and they began talking.
"Ron's going to lose his mind." SHe sounded a little proud and Harry laughed.
"He and I have an...understanding. We don't talk about sex."
Ginny propped up on one elbow and looked down at him. "Because you don't want to hear-"
"Merlin, no!" Harry groaned. "Not a word. She's like my older sister."
"And Ron doesn't try to live vicariously through you?"
"He asks, sometimes," Harry said. "But I don't have that much to tell, I assure you. The scar either scares them away, or makes things too complicated."
Ginny glanced up, as if just remembering that the scar existed. She gave a little shrug of her shoulder. "I can see how that might be an issue."
"I'm not going to tell him a word," Harry said. "It's none of his business."
"I like that strategy."
They kissed, long and slow.
"You're going to be late for work."
"Don't care."
It was Monday again and Ron was adamant that he would be at the pub tonight. Harry hadn't brought up their missed meeting on Valentine's Day and neither had Ron. They'd both been busy with other things.
Harry had seen Ginny twice more this week. They'd shared dinner at a Muggle place not far from Harry's flat and he'd taken her to watch a film a few days later. It was casual, and comfortable, and completely brilliant.
She'd said that she might swing by The Quiet Witch tonight if she ever got more of her boxes unpacked, but she didn't sound hopeful when Harry had flooed her earlier.
The booth was full of their friends from Hogwarts, loud and sometimes rowdy. Hank kept their table full and even offered appetizers on the house. Harry was still trying to figure his angle, as Hank never gave anything away. He'd eyed the food dubiously, wondering what was slipped into it, while passing. So far, though, no one had had any serious side effects.
Ron was seated in the booth when Harry arrived, laughing at something Seamus had said. The others trickled in as the evening progressed.
"Where's Hermione tonight?" Harry asked.
"She went over to Ginny's new place," said Ron. "Helping to unpack boxes."
Seamus sat up straighter. "I heard your sister was back."
Ron glared at him. "I'm sure you did."
"Couple of the blokes from the office saw her the other day, said she was-"
"That's my baby sister you're thinking about there, Finnigan," Ron growled.
But the sandy-haired man just laughed. Harry remembered that he worked in the Wizengamot Administration Offices, just down the hall from Auror Headquarters. The blokes in there were known for being bigger gossips than the secretary pool.
"I remember Ginny," Neville said thoughtfully. "She was always nice to me."
They went around the table, giving vague memories that they had of Ginny. Harry kept his mouth shut. It was interesting to hear what they remembered about her.
"You're not really her type, anyway, Seamus," Ron said finally. "Right, Harry?"
Harry spluttered on his drink. "How would I know?" For a moment, he wondered if this was some sort of test that Ron was giving him. Had he heard about him and Ginny somehow? They weren't necessarily keeping it secret, just...private. They were happy with quietly exploring what might be between them without having the pressure of her family, or Merlin forbid, the press get wind of it.
They all stared at him. But ron just shook his head. "She dates European wizards," he said, his nose scrunched in distaste.
"Well, good for her," Neville said, holding up his pint in salute. The tips of his ears turned red and Harry appreciated, once more, how quietly brave Neville was.
The night went on with stories of their exploits at Hogwarts, things that their classmates were up to, and Quidditch. Always quidditch. Ron was sharing his latest moment of glory-a brilliant one-handed save that he swore was on purpose, but Harry was fairly sure was just dumb luck as Ron's arm had gotten caught on the hoop after a tricky evasion from his own team's bludger.
"This is the best part, Harry! You can't leave now!"
"I was there, Ron!" Harry scooted out of the booth, draining his drink before walking toward the loo in the back.
On the way back to the table, he stopped to talk to another Auror he occasionally worked with and her husband. When he made it back to his friends, whatever they were saying had died out and they were all staring at him. Harry glanced down to make sure his fly was up, and then scowled at them.
"What?
"Seamus was just telling us that you were late to work on Tuesday." Ron wore a smug grin that Harry wanted to hex right off his face.
He glanced at Seamus, who gave a helpless shrug. "You really have nothing better to do in that office, do you?"
"It's not like Robards kept his voice down. Your arguments are legendary. There's a betting pool on them."
Harry sighed and sank into his spot again. "So what if I was late?
"They were just speculating on why you were late," Dean said with a laugh.
Harry took a deep, steadying breath, weighing his options. He really didn't want to tell everyone why he was late. It was none of their business, just like he'd told Ginny. But he also wasn't ashamed of being with Ginny. In the end, their privacy won out and Harry vowed to keep his mouth shut.
"Had a lie in," he said simply. "Just got back the day before and I was tired."
"But you were here last week," Ron said. He rested his arms on the table, watching Harry from the other side.
Harry blinked at him. "Er…"
"Hank said you left your scarf."
Damn. He'd completely forgotten about his scarf. What else had Hank spilled while Harry was taking a piss?
"Yeah, I dropped by for a pint."
"Uh huh. On Valentine's Day?"
"Come on, Harry," Seamus said. "There are always witches interested everywhere you go."
Harry narrowed his eyes and sat back against the booth. "Really? I barely notice."
"You were late because you met someone," Ron said. "I think that's why."
"So what if I did?"
Ron leaned forward. "Was that an admission?"
"An admission of what?"
They all turned as Hermione and Ginny walked up, tugging at cloaks and removing their warm winter gear. The booth magically expanded, sliding outward to offer more seating. Hermione slipped in next to Ron, and Ginny took the spot next to Harry.
"Harry's seeing someone," Ron informed his fiancee. "He met her here on Valentine's Day and went home with her."
Harry felt Ginny's fingers brush his side and fought the urge to grasp them in his.
"Your theory," Harry pointed out. "A bloke can come to a pub by himself and leave alone, you know."
"Same for a witch," Ginny said with a smirk. "Or don't you favor equal rights, Ron?"
They all laughed and Harry wanted to kiss her. Granted, that would kill the whole privacy thing completely, but…
"You keep out of this, Miss Fancy Pants," Ron said, pointing at his sister. "I'm talking about Harry, not you."
"Ron!" Hermione turned on him and they began arguing.
"Thanks," Harry murmured to Ginny. "I owe you one."
"I'll collect later." Her hand glanced along his thigh and Harry fought the urge to raise his wand and summon the check from Hank so they could leave right now.
Ginny reached past him to the plate in the middle of the table, but Harry nudged it away. "I wouldn't," he murmured.
"What's wrong with it?"
"No clue, yet. But I have a feeling this is somehow connected to Fred and George and the feud they have going with Hank."
"Who's Hank?"
"The bartender," Harry said with a nod in Hank's direction. "He never gives free food, but he sent this whole plate over-a large order."
Ginny eyed it dubiously before giving a firm nod. "I'll trust your judgement, then."
"Probably wise. Nothing's happened just yet, but-"
"Oi!" Ron broke into their quiet conversation. "You'll tell her, but not me?"
"Tell me what, Ron?" Ginny said. Her cheeks were flushed, but not in a good way, Harry realized. She'd had just about enough of Ron's meddling in her life. He and Hermione exchanged a glance and then both shrugged, as if saying that whatever was going to happen was going to happen no matter if they stepped in or not.
And Harry wasn't about to stop Ginny from hexing Ron's bits off. He'd been far too patronizing and condescending lately.
"Since when do you two talk?" Ron kept on.
"Since when is it any of your business who I'm friends with, Ron?"
"It's not," he said. "You made that clear when you left for years and didn't come home."
"That's enough," Harry said, his voice raised. Other patrons in the pub turned to look, but Harry didn't care anymore. He wasn't about to let this family issue be dragged out in public. It was obvious that both Ron and Ginny needed to deal with the emotions and repercussions of Ginny's absence for the past eight years.
"Not here," he said. "And not tonight."
"Why don't we go play darts?" Hermione asked Ron. "You can try teaching me how again." She pulled ron out of the booth, chattering away. Ron went, reluctantly, but glanced over his shoulder at Ginny, who glared back at him.
"Well…"
"And that's enough from you, as well, Finnigan," Harry warned.
Seamus held up his hands in surrender, but grinned. "I was just going to say that I've had about all I can handle for the night. See you all next week." He motioned for Dean to follow him and they slid out of the booth.
Dean leaned down to Ginny just before leaving. "It's good to see you again. Maybe we can go out someday-"
"Thanks," Ginny said, "but I'm seeing someone."
Her hand found Harry's on the bench and twined their fingers together, giving a little silent acknowledgement to him.
"Can't blame a guy for trying," Dean said with a laugh. He turned and followed Seamus out.
"I think I'm going to head out, too," Neville said. He gave both Harry and Ginny a thoughtful look before scooting out past them. "It was good to see you, Ginny."
"Are you going to ask me out, too, Neville?"
He paled and stammered for a moment before Ginny just laughed. "I'm teasing."
"Okay. Well, goodnight."
They watched him go, Ginny leaning into Harry's side. The booth had shrunk back to a cozy size, allowing them to sit together without drawing too much attention to their status as a couple.
"How soon can we go?" Ginny asked.
"Had enough already?"
She nodded. "Ron." It was all that needed to be said and Harry wanted to wrap his arms around her, hold her until she wasn't worried about her brother's prattish ways any longer, but they were still in public.
"He'll come around."
"When I'm forty," she grumbled.
"Maybe by then."
They shared a smile.
"You didn't tell them."
"None of their business," Harry reminded her.
"Yeah."
"But you should probably deal with this Ron situation before it gets out of hand."
"Not tonight," she said. Leaning in closer, she pressed a kiss to his neck. "Is it okay if I just want to go home with you and forget it all happened?"
"Check please?!"
A month of pub nights passed. Ginny kept her distance when Ron was around, but that was the only part of Harry's life that wasn't brilliant. He was the happiest he'd ever been and he was not afraid to say that he was head over heels in love with Ginny, already. He wasn't looking forward to another exchange he was set to make that would take him away for three weeks coming up soon. He'd argued with the Director, but given in when Robards promised it was the last one for the entire year, if Harry would just go.
Ginny had laughed at his grumbling about it, and promised that they'd be fine. She was just going to begin work on her new book, having received permission to delve into the architecture at Hogwarts. She promised that the next month she wouldn't be available much anyway, since she would be knee-deep in library research as she tried to suss out all of the history of the castle-beyond what Hogwarts: A History could tell her.
Unbeknownst to Ginny, Harry was planning a trip away for the two of them when he got back. It wasn't something lavish, just a weekend in Ireland at a little bed and breakfast where they could be together in public and not have to worry about who was watching.
The privacy thing was beginning to wear on them both and Harry was planning to talk to Ginny over their trip to see about coming clean with everyone.
"No lady friend tonight?"
Harry had chosen to sit at the bar tonight, rather than their usual booth. And he hadn't ordered Ron a pint this time.
"You never give up, do you?"
Ron laughed and slid onto the stool next to him. "One day you'll tell me."
Harry sighed and shook his head slowly. "One day you might listen."
"Hank confirmed it for me, Harry."
Hank sidled by, his stooped shoulders bouncing up and down as he plodded by. "Did not."
Harry just laughed. Hank might see everything that went on in his pub, but he kept his mouth shut. Another reason that Harry liked coming here.
"Fine." Ron tapped his fist on the bar, signaling that he wanted to order his drink. "Don't tell me. I don't understand you, Harry. You usually tell me everything."
"The things I don't tell you, Ron, could fill a library." Harry raised an eyebrow as Ron pondered that thought. "You don't know everything about my life. And I don't know everything about yours, thank Merlin. That's why we stay friends."
Ron laughed. "Point."
They drank in relative silence, commenting here or there on things that had happened throughout the week. Chudley had won a fairly convincing victory over the Kestrals and were enjoying a well-deserved week off before they would be flattened by the Arrows and Harpies. Ron commiserted their chances already by ordering a firewhiskey and toasting to the mostly empty pub.
"Don't forget I'm off for a few weeks," Harry said when they were gathering their things after just two pints together.
"Honeymoon?"
Harry ignored the barb. "Exchange. Be back in about a month."
"Floo me when you get in. We'll get together again. Hey, Harry, I know I tease you about it, but I really do hope you're happy."
The smile couldn't be helped. "I am, Ron."
Ireland had been amazing. Harry had followed along as Ginny snapped photograph after photograph, laughing at the way she got almost manically excited over the curve of a wall, or the buttress of a church. He may not understand it all, but he loved the way her eyes flashed and the way she saw things that not everyone did.
He'd told her he loved her-the first time saying the words-and she'd reciprocated. Harry once lamented that he could never understand how his parents could have fallen in love, gotten married, and decided to have him in the middle of a war. Now that he understood the depth of love-and, really, he knew they were just scratching the surface-Harry had a deeper appreciation for what his parents' had gone through and the reason that love was such a powerful force.
They'd also decided that it was time to start letting people know that they were together as a couple. Slowly, and on their terms.
Harry had come back from his exchange and left his luggage in the middle of his living room, grabbed another pre-packed bag and apparated straight to Ginny's to whisk her away. And the weekend had been perfect. He didn't want it to end.
"You're sure we have to separate?"
Ginny laughed and clung to the lapels of his cloak. "We've just spent the past seventy-two hours together, Harry. And I do love you, but I need to get my laundry going, and pay my rent. And my first official visit to Hogwarts is tomorrow morning."
They were wrapped around each other in the far corner booth at The Quiet Witch. It wasn't even half-past five in the afternoon yet, and the pub was completely empty. It was rainy outside and the windows were fogged over, leaving a sort of dreamy quality to the evening
"You were there almost every day I was gone."
"For research, yes, and to plan out my shots. But I'm going to actually start photographing tomorrow."
Harry tucked a bit of her hair behind her ear and didn't stop himself from nuzzling the curve of her neck. "It's going to be amazing. A best-seller."
Ginny wrapped her arms around his head and swung her legs onto his lap under the table. "Only if I'm not too bleary-eyed to take the photos. We barely got any sleep, remember?"
Harry hummed in satisfaction and tugged at the end of her ponytail. "You weren't complaining."
"You are completely wicked. And that's why I love you." She kissed him, and even though they were in public, where anyone could walk in, Harry reminded himself that he'd chosen the back corner for a reason. It was darker, half-hidden in shadow and almost impossible to see from the front of the pub.
"Okay," he sighed, but he didn't move at all, and he didn't stop kissing her.
"OI!"
Harry disengaged from Ginny, peering back over his shoulder to see Ron, Fred and George standing just feet from them. He hadn't even heard the bell on the door, he realized. He glanced at Ginny to find her completely disheveled, pressed up against the foggy window. He could see his own handprint there in the mist, just above where Ginny's head had been.
"Ron, listen...I can explain."
But Ron's flashing gaze settled on his sister, instead. "That's my best friend!"
Fred and George exchanged looks before breaking out into wide grins. "What do you think, Georgie?"
"I'd give it a solid nine."
"Eight point five," Fred responded.
Harry straightened himself and tried to figure out what was going on. Ginny, surprisingly, didn't flinch. She ran her fingers over her hair to smooth it back from where Harry had ruffled it, and stared at her brothers.
"I know you warned me to stay away from him, Ron-"
"What?" Harry's neck actually popped when he whipped back around to gape at her. "Since when-"
"-but we're in love."
Ron's mouth hung open, as if he couldn't quite process what he'd seen.
"Well we, for one-"
"-are happy," George said.
"As long as you're both happy."
Harry turned back to Ron. "What do you mean you warned her to stay away from me?"
"I just...I mean…" Ron threw his hand up toward his sister. "She's Ginny."
Harry forced himself to stay seated and he placed his hands on the table so he wouldn't be too tempted to hex Ron into next week.
"Yeah, that's why I love her."
"How long…" Ron shook his head. "Don't tell me this is Miss Valentine's."
"The one and only." Ginny grinned and slid closer to Harry. Harry slipped his arm around her shoulders before kissing her.
"And you've been…" He trailed off and made a sickened face. "You were late to work the next day."
Harry would have spilled the beans about how brilliant Ginny was in bed, but he was fairly sure tonight's revelations were about all that Ron could handle.
"I warned you to stay out of my love life," he said. "I thank you for your concern, but I'm doing just fine. And Ginny is nothing less than brilliant. And I love her. So, sod off, Ron, if that bothers you."
Ron's eyes widened and he blinked rapidly several times. "I…" He turned to look at Ginny. "You told Mum that it was serious with the bloke you were seeing."
The thought made Harry's chest puff out just a bit and he kissed Ginny again.
"It is," Ginny said simply. "You and I have a whole lot to figure out, Ron. You don't know me anymore, isn't that what you said? Well, know that I stick by my convictions. I don't make commitments that I'm not all in for. And I don't love easily." She looked at Harry and then back at her brother. "It's serious."
"Good enough for us." George slapped Ron on the shoulder. "Let's get a pint, shall we?"
"Hey! What're you two doin' in here?!"
Harry and Ginny both broke out in laughter as Hank came out of the back room and found the twins and Ron standing in his pub.
"Serious, huh?"
"Yeah."
"I could get used to that."
"Pretty sure you're going to have to. You heard what I told the prat. I don't love easily."
"It seemed pretty easy to me."
Ginny pinched his side and kissed him.
"Are you okay with serious?"
"Deliriously happy, my love."
Ron got used to them being together over the next year, and he started to work through his issues with Ginny, too. Harry knew that they'd met together on their own a few times. He didn't pry for details, but sometimes they would come bursting out of Ginny while they sat on the sofa, or while they prepared dinner together.
Weekly pub nights had faded into the past after The Great Revelation, as Fred and George called it. Harry missed them, but he and Ginny made sure to frequent The Quiet Witch often to support Hank and get out of their routines. Occasionally, others would appear and spend an enjoyable evening with the couple. Ron kept his distance for a couple of months before he began to come around more and more.
The Weasley's were over the moon when Harry and Ginny appeared at the Burrow together and announced their relationship. They'd even opened some good champagne that had been hidden in the back of the cupboard-"for a rainy day, dears-and toasted to love.
Valentine's Day rolled around again and Ginny surprised Harry this time with a two-week trip to France. He'd only been for a few prisoner transfers and official meetings, and had never stepped foot outside the Ministry.
Ginny showed him all of her favorite haunts and spots to see. They made out in little cafes all over the countryside, made love in a dozen different bed and breakfast rooms as they traveled ate far too much food, drank far too much wine, and had the time of their lives. Harry found that he was pants at speaking anything other than English, but he loved hearing Ginny rattle off phrases in French. And despite thinking it was impossible, he fell even more madly in love with her.
"Nobody will be here," Ginny warned as they hurried down the street to the pub. It was dumping rain, soaking past their waterproofing spells into their cloaks.
"Doesn't matter," Harry said. He clung to her hand and helped her jump over a large puddle in the sidewalk. "This is where it all started for us."
They ducked inside, surprised to see that nearly all the booths were full.
"Wow. I didn't expect…" Harry shook his wet hair and pushed it back from his forehead. Ginny pulled off her cloak and hung both of theirs on the full rack near the doorway.
"Over here!"
Their usual booth was packed-magically extended to its maximum size-and filled with almost all of their friends and family.
Harry and Ginny greeted everyone with handshakes, hugs, and slaps on the back before being ushered into a spot. Hank floated over another couple of rounds, keeping a dubious watch from under his thick eyebrows on the twins. Their ban had been lifted, but Hank warned them that if they ever brought any of their products into the pub he'd have them arrested. He didn't know what the charges would be, but he'd think something up. Harry had offered to do the honors, if necessary.
Harry was listening to Seamus go on about someone at the ministry when he overheard Hermione and Ginny's conversation.
"-you get back?"
"Yesterday," said Ginny.
"And was it just amazing?"
Ginny caught Harry's eye and winked at him. "Everything I could have hoped for."
"Oh, France is my favorite place."
"Yeah, if you like all that French stuff," Ron grumbled.
"Well, I do, Ronald Weasley."
Ron's eyes widened at his wife's snap and he sank just a little lower in the seat and sipped at his beer.
"How's the book doing, Ginny?" Neville asked from the far end of the table. "Gran loves her copy. And she can't stop talking about how you brought her Hogwarts days back to her."
Ginny lifted her drink in his direction. "Sold out the first printing," she said. A low cheer rippled along the table and Harry felt his chest expand with pride again.
"Did you really like all that French stuff?" Ron asked as he leaned across the table toward Harry. "Even the food?"
"Even the food," said Harry.
Ron thought about that, his face scrunched in thought. "What about-"
"Everything, Ron."
"Oh."
Hermione's squeal of delight drew their attention and Harry felt like the buttons on his robes might just burst. His friend was flailing and waiving about, throwing her arms around Ginny and laughing. She clasped GInny's left hand tightly, showing everyone around the table.
"They're getting married!"
Cheers went up and Hank immediately appeared, hovering near the table, lest he be allowed to demand Fred and George's removal for disturbing his pub. Harry waved him off amidst being mobbed by friends with congratulations and staggering slugs to the shoulders. Eventually, the ruckus settled down, Hank began breathing again, and Harry was allowed to sit next to Ginny, his fiancee, again.
"Wow. That's…" Ron was looking between the two of them, cogs in his mind turning.
"Aren't you happy for them, Ron?"
He blinked at Hermione and gave a slow nod. "Sure."
"Tell me all about it!" Hermione demanded. "When did he ask? How? Did he get down on one knee? Was it romantic? Oh, I'll bet it was romantic."
Harry laughed at her exuberance and nudged Ginny in the shoulder, indicating that it was up to her to tell the tale.
"Well, it was our last night in Paris," she said. "And we flew up to the top of the Eiffel Tower..."
Harry glanced at Ron, to see him staring down at the table, deep in thought.
"Alright, Ron?" He kicked his friend under the table and Ron looked up at him.
"Yeah. Yeah. Alright." Slowly, a smile spread across his face. "As long as you're both happy."
"We are."
"Okay."
They shared a smile before Harry's attention was drawn back as Hermione asked him all about buying the ring.