This is a little more overview than I expect my future works to be, but still captures vignettes of Harry and Ginny post-war. Total fluff, but rated M for suggestiveness ;)

I get paid in reviews so please do!

Harry Potter had been awake for the past hour lying in his bed at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. His wife, Ginny, was still fast asleep with her head buried in her pillow, laying belly down, but a single arm draped across Harry's torso. He was mindlessly running his fingers along her arm as he watched the morning light seep into the master bedroom. He'd only lived in Grimmauld Place for a week, but it already felt like home.

Harry had lived with the Weasleys at the Burrow for two years after the war, but once Ginny graduated from Hogwarts and things started getting serious between them, he felt uncomfortable living under the same roof as his girlfriend and her entire family. There had been many a night where Ginny had attempted to lure him down to her room, but Harry was terrified of Mrs. Weasley finding them in the morning or worse, one of her brothers, so he bought a tiny flat near the Ministry of Magic and Ginny frequently visited. Eventually, Ginny was spending so much time there, she suggested they just move in together at which point Harry figured if they were ready to make that kind of commitment they might as well make it official. So a week later, after a Saturday Weasley family dinner, he proposed to Ginny in the backyard.

Once they were engaged, everyone had an opinion on how indecent it was for "young Ginevra to live with her fiancé" as Aunt Muriel had put it; Mrs. Weasley and Ron shared a similar view. Mrs. Weasley had put it as "you don't want to cork the potion before you've let it come to a full boil, dear," while Ron had been more blunt and commented, "You don't want people to think your..."

"A what?" Ginny had irately yelled back without receiving an answer to which she fervently replied with calling all of them "old timey gits." It wasn't until George commented about a recent Witch Weekly headline reading "Generous Ginny" that had included a blown up picture of her and Harry aggressively kissing in a dark corner at a Ministry party that Ginny conceded to officially living at home until the wedding. Despite this, she still spent most weeknights and every weekend with Harry at his flat. Harry had tried staying out of the whole matter, but was always pleased to find her lounging on his sofa when he got home from work or about to hop into the shower after a long quidditch practice.

But the flat was tiny and Harry wanted them to start their new life together where they could grow and have a family and fit the entire Weasley family during the holidays. Truthfully, he wanted to live at the Burrow, but of course that wasn't really an option. He spent hours thinking over all the places he'd loved visiting, all the places he'd felt warm inside about and because Hogwarts, the Three Broomstick, The Leaky Cauldron, and Hagrid's cabin weren't for sale, he eventually settled on Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Thinking about it always stirred up mixed emotions. It was such a sad and prison like place when the Order of the Phoenix had occupied it; Sirius's attitude towards the gloomy townhouse always darkened Harry's memories of that summer, but he had enjoyed using it as a hideout with Ron and Hermione during the war. The house always seemed to glow and shine with warmth in those memories (and in reality the house had been shinnier and more homely once Kreacher starting taking care of the place again). So unable to make up his mind about it, he visited it one afternoon.

The town house had stood vacant since that day Hermione, Ron, and him had escaped the Ministry and apparated onto it's doorstep only to immediately disapperate to the Forest of Dean. Harry had never bothered learning what happened to it after that. He assumed Kreacher had remained waiting for him to return, but when Harry bought his flat, Kreacher appeared one night, of his own accord, to clean and tidy up, and after, he never really bothered to ask Kreacher where he went when he wasn't in the flat.

As Harry entered the front door however, he could tell Kreacher had not remained at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. It was dark and dusty like it had been during Sirius' time. There were definitely remnants of the tidier days during their hideout, but in their absence, the house had become what it had always been. Harry roamed from room to room where thick layers of dust and cobwebs had gathered over the years. He eventually found himself back in the basement kitchen sitting in the old chair by the fire where he'd seen Sirius sit so many times before. The ache and pain of thinking about Sirius settled over him as it always did, but couldn't he restore Sirius' memory by making this the home Sirius had always wanted it to be, Harry thought. A place where warm fires burned, where friends gathered for happy times and maybe, one day, where children giggled and played and wanted to return to during school holidays?

Without a second thought, he called "Kreacher" through the stale air. The old house elf instantly appeared bowing at his feet, Regulus' fake horcrux necklace still dangling from his neck. "Master has requested Kreacher," Kreacher growled. "Kreacher does not know why Master is back in the house he stole from his Mistress, but Kreacher is pleased to be back."

"Right," Harry replied always uncomfortable when Kreacher spoke like that. "Kreacher, I've decided to move into Grimmauld Place once Ginny and I are married. I need you to start cleaning the place up."

"Kreacher is pleased Master has decided to return to Grimmauld Place even though he will bring his blood traitor wife with him," Kreacher retorted.

"You can't call her that, Kreacher," Harry bellowed. "You'll call her Mistress from now on."

Kreacher bowed again, but Harry could tell Kreacher would rather iron his ears off than call Ginny his mistress.

"Eh, that's all," Harry added when Kreacher didn't leave. The elf slowly skulked out of the kitchen, probably to complain to the portrait of his Mistress, Mrs. Black.

Although Harry knew Kreacher would do a decent job cleaning the place up, it needed more than a heavy dusting; it needed a renovation. He hired wizard architects to gut the place of magical wardrobes and cupboards, and called Borgin & Burkes to declutter the place of dangerous and poisonous artifacts. He even called in a curse breaker to try and take Mrs. Black off the wall, but after several attempts he settled on putting a heavy silence jinx on the portrait and building a cabinet around it to hide her from view forever.

This had thrown Kreacher into a yelling and kicking frenzy which was only stopped when Harry offered Kreacher Regulus' room. "You can have it!" Harry yelled over the screaming. "It's yours! You can do whatever you like with it!" Kreacher immediately stopped his tantrum and pulled himself off the floor, straightened out his white towel, and readjusted the fake horcrux.

"Thank you, master," Kreacher bowed. "Kreacher is very grateful to his Master but Kreacher will not forget his Mistress," Kreacher whispered as he scurried up the stairs. "No, Kreacher will find a way to bring Mistress to Master Regulus' room and then Kreacher will have Mistress all to himself." Later that day, Harry spied Kreacher carrying all his items from under the cupboard up to his new room.

Although the renovations had been completed before the wedding, Harry didn't tell Ginny about it until they were on their honeymoon. He'd presented the key to her on their last night. Harry explained everything he'd done to the place enthusiastically and how they could make it into a real home, but Ginny merely smiled and accepted the key without real thanks. Later that night, they had a huge row about it.

"You didn't even include me in this decision," Ginny yelled at him. "We're partners; we're suppose to decide on these things together."

"I thought you'd like the surprise," Harry tried to argue back.

"Well, you were wrong then weren't you," she'd retorted flipping her hair around and crossing her arms into a very Mrs. Weasley-esque position.

Harry recoiled, but the argument didn't end there. It went on for hours about money - "do you think just because you have the most money right now that you can do whatever you want with it" - and then career related issues - "What if I need to be physically closer to my home pitch? It could throw off my entire game " - being out of sync about the future - "do you expect me to always accept whatever you decide?" - and a whole array of issues Harry never imagined could be related to renovating a house. Eventually it ended with Ginny agreeing to live in Grimmauled Place until they could find another house together. She'd agreed, but she still made him sleep on the honeymoon suite's couch.

When they arrived at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place the following day, Ginny was still displeased. She refused to unlock the door or allow Harry to carry her across the threshold. She merely brushed passed him into the entryway without a word, but once inside, her eyes couldn't help but grow wide.

The black wood staircase and paneling had been replaced with rich cherry wood and the walls were now a soft, metallic blue. Modern lamps and the newly cleaned chandelier gave the entryway a nice warm glow that illuminated the clutter free hallways and staircase. The stuffy antiques and creepy house elf heads had all been removed except for the troll leg umbrella stand.

"You like it?" Harry asked having seen her eyes go wide. Ginny immediately set her eyes back to normal and shrugged her shoulders.

"Let me show you the rest of the place," Harry said quickly putting down the suitcases and pulling her towards the staircase. He dragged her from room to room to show her the newly upholstered furniture and sheer curtains hanging from all the windows allowing bright natural light to consume all the rooms. He showed her everything all the way up to the fifth floor where there were three empty bedrooms painted neutral beige.

"What are these rooms for?" Ginny asked merely looking into them from the doorframe.

"Whatever you'd like," Harry said coming up from behind her. "They could be storage or offices or studies or nurseries," he said lingering on 'nurseries'. "What?" Harry asked when she turned around and scowled at him; her arms were crossed again.

"You really think this house is safe for a baby? All these stairs and rooms? It would fall or get lost or die from fear," she stung pushing past him.

"Sooo you don't like it?" Harry tried to confirm.

She walked away and down the stairs without saying another word. Her silence was worse than "no".

The tension between them remained all week, but every once in a while Harry caught her dazedly staring into one of those empty rooms or admiring the many parlors, studies, and guest rooms.

Then Saturday came.

"I don't understand why we have to call it a house warming party," Ginny had chided, as she got dressed. "It's just a dinner with a couple of friends and family that happens to be taking place at our current place of residence. House warming sounds so official, so permanent."

Harry rolled his eyes as he stood at his bureau fastening his watch and watching Ginny pull on a dress in the mirror's reflection. "Fine," he conceded turning around and walking over to help her zip her dress. "We'll call it a Welcome Back party."

"We can't host our own Welcome Back party," Ginny scolded turning around to face him.

"It's just a party then," Harry concluded pulling her in for a kiss. "You look lovely by the way," he smiled down at her.

"And you're a suck up of a husband," she giggled, pecking him on the lips again.

The Party had been lovely. The entire Weasley clan was there including Bill and Fluer with Victorie who played with Teddy all night. Teddy was still living with his grandparents, but Harry had already set up a room for him at Grimmauld Place. Harry had enjoyed showing Teddy to his room where he immediately started jumping on the bed; his hair changing color between each bounce. The Shacklebolts came and spent most of the night reminiscing over all the crazy antics that went on there as headquarters. Only the good memories were brought up; they were the only ones worth mentioning now, but it did feel like the Order of the Phoenix days with the kitchen overflowing with people and spilling into the hallway. George and Ron could be overheard telling long-winded stories involving dung bombs, extendable ears, and Crookshanks. Harry and Ginny had divided their energy between guests, but Harry couldn't help but notice Ginny leading a group of ladies up the staircase on a house tour, a large, prideful grin across her face as she spoke.

The night had ended rather heatedly as Hermione - now thoroughly inebriated - berated Harry about his treatment of Kreacher. Hermione had argued at the top of her lunges that Harry was no better than the Malfoys if he did not offer Kreacher an hourly wage to which Harry immediately summoned Kreacher to offer him an hourly wage which resulted in Kreacher banging his head across the kitchen floor screaming, "I won't. I won't. I won't" as in I won't accept payment. Ron eventually calmed Hermione down and escorted her out the front door trying to suppress his amusement at the whole thing.

"Well, that was eventful," Ginny commented closing the front door behind them.

"Indeed," Harry confirmed wrapping his arm around her waist as they headed for the stairs. They slowly climbed in exhaustion.

As they prepared for bed Ginny remarked, "That wasn't so bad."

"I didn't think so," Harry agreed unbuttoning his shirt.

"And Mum just oohed over the redecorating," Ginny continued from the closet.

Harry smiled to himself, "Yeah, Dedalus Diggly said the same thing."

"And you should have seen Ramilda Vane's face," Ginny cooed climbing into bed. "She said this place was worth a Witch Weekly spread."

"Really?" Harry asked skeptically yet triumphantly as he crawled into bed next to her.

"Yeah," she confirmed. "At first I was rather annoyed Seamus had brought her as his date, but you should have seen how jealous she was, Harry. I had to hold back a smirk every time we walked into a new room," she giggled at the supremacy of it all.

"Are you trying to tell me," Harry asked pulling her into a parallel hug, "that you are actually liking this place."

"Well," Ginny hesitated nuzzling into his side. "I could definitely get use to the grandeur - for now," she quickly added not wanting to seem too pleased.

"That sounds like a surrender," Harry declared.

'Hardly," Ginny bellowed turning to her side to face him. "It merely means I recognize the historic and architectural relevance of this place."

"Architectural relevance?," Harry scoffed skeptically.

"Yes," Ginny insisted mischievously then leaning forward to slowly press her lips across Harry's collarbone. "It's important to maintain and preserve homes with cultural value," she continued slowly making her way up Harry's neck. "And recognize their value despite their histories," she concluded landing a kiss on his lips.

"I'm so glad you've discovered this knew found appreciation for architectural and historical sites," Harry retorted through a long-winded kiss.

"I'm always willing to concede to understanding other people's points of view," Ginny countered pulling her face only inches above Harry's.

"And are you willing to reconsider staying here longer?" Harry retorted flipping her over so he was on top now.

"It depends on what you're offering?" she smoldered raising her hands to rest around Harry's neck.

"I'm offering several vacant rooms and maybe a dog," Harry joked.

"I don't know if I'm ready for that, Harry," Ginny responded seriously. "I don't want to be messing with...whatever," she trailed off picturing babies, and piles of laundry. "I have so much ahead of me with the Harpies. I don't want to give up my career for all that," she said searching Harry's face.

"I would never want you to give up your dreams," Harry said softly. "I just don't want you to dismiss the idea completely."

At this Ginny wrapped her hands around Harry's neck more tightly. "So what are you suggesting, Potter?"

Harry loved when she called him that; it re-kindled all the feelings he ever had for her. He smiled as he said, "I'm suggesting you play the best quidditch you've ever played in your entire life and fill up all those vacant rooms with trophies until they can't hold anymore. And then, and only then, will we start considering...the other stuff."

They both smiled at each other and sunk further into their embrace.

"I love you," Ginny sighed pulling his face towards her.

"I love you, too," he returned, lowering his hands to her thighs and pulling her closer.

0oo0o0o0o000o00o0

Harry, still laying in bed, smiled thinking about all that had transpired the past week. He actually laughed at himself thinking about it.

"What?" Ginny sighed half awake, half asleep; her face still buried in the pillow.

"I was just thinking about this week," Harry returned looking at his sleepy wife.

"I don't see what's so funny about that," she retorted; her slight annoyance muffled by the pillow.

"No, you wouldn't," Harry chuckled softly. He smiled at her and scrunched down to position his face across from hers. Ginny opened a single eye to squint at him.

"You're awfully happy," she noticed opening her other eye and moving her arms to hug her pillow.

"You've caught me red handed," he sighed extending his arm to pull her bare back towards him.

"I had a weird dream last night," Ginny said after a moment of comfortable silence.

"About what?"

"I was in Grimmauld Place, at the foot of the stairs, and there were all these big trophies tumbling down the stairs like a waterfall. I struggled to climb to the top of the stairs, but when I reached the top, I found myself at those empty rooms and there were three little red headed babies, sitting there, tossing the trophies around like they were quaffles. They were giggling and cooing and every once in a while they would pick up a trophy and chuck it at me."

Harry pulled her in even closer. "Sounds cryptic," he laughed.

"Well, I'm no Trawlaney, but I think it means I love my trophies more than babies."

Harry laughed again.

"And I think it means I like this place," Ginny added looking at Harry seriously.

"Really?" he asked sitting up like he'd just received a present on his birthday.

"Really," Ginny confirmed snuggling deeper into her pillow. "But I do have a concession."

"Anything," Harry offered.

"If I suddenly hate this place, I don't want you to question me. I want you to just go along with it and accept whatever place I decide to move to next."

"Done," Harry agreed without really thinking.

"Good," Ginny concluded rolling over to her bedside table to pick up her wand.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked as Ginny commanded Accio stationary.

"I need to write a letter."

"To whom?"

"Remilda Vane."

"Why?" Harry asked perplexed.

"She said if I agreed by Monday, she would have the entire house spread ready for the Friday addition of Witch Weekly." Harry froze in astonishment. "Oh, I can't wait to see Cho Chang's face next Wednesday when we face off at the semi-final," Ginny beamed beginning to pen her letter to Remilda.