Coffee and Kisses
It was a lazy Sunday morning, the kind of morning where the sky was cloudy, but the sun still peeked through, making you not feel so bad about lying in bed for most of the morning with a cup of coffee and The Daily Prophet. It was exactly the kind of morning that was happening in the flat of a certain Mr. Harry Potter and Ms. Ginny Weasley. The flat itself was simple, in London, close to the Ministry of Magic for Harry and the Quidditch Pitch where Ginny was the manager of the Chudley Cannons, all she had to do was use the Floo Network to wind up in the clubhouse. The flat inside itself was something to be hold, it was eclectic to say the least. Furniture pieces were mismatched, the couch was a loved, brown leather couch, that sat in front of a hand carved coffee table. The coffee table was lined with newspapers, reports from Harry, ink wells and broken quills, plays that Ginny was figuring out, empty coffee mugs, leaving stains on the parchment, sometimes on the wood itself and a few pictures here and there. Pictures of Harry and Ginny when they went to the Eiffel Tower with Ron and Hermione for their "double honeymoon", it had been Hermione's idea, something about saving on lodging, which they did in their conjoined rooms, separated by a door, but it worked. It had actually been Hermione and Ron's honeymoon, but Harry and Ginny went with. Why not? There was a picture of Harry holding a baby Teddy, Teddy laughing on Harry's lap as he bounced his knee, Harry smiling up at the camera, a picture of Mr and Mrs. Weasley as they enjoyed some downtime sitting in the garden at the Burrow, their heads leaned close together as they talked, and Ginny's favorite, a picture of the night Harry proposed. He had taken her to Diagon Alley and proposed right in the middle of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. It had been a surprise to Ginny and it was obvious in the picture, the way her hand went over her mouth and she could only nod.
As of late, things had been busy between the couple, they seldom had a moment of alone time with Harry being an Auror and having to go on calls and things of that nature, he woke up early and got home late most nights. Ginny on the other had had a pretty set schedule, but there were times she traveled with the team for matches outside England. If they weren't apart due to work, they were together but with family and friends. Ron and Hermione often came over for dinner, or they'd go out. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came by once or twice a week, Mrs. Weasley fretting over how small Ginny was and how tired Harry looked. Mr. Weasley ever fascinated with the collection of books Harry had from when he went to the bookshop. "What is a fighter jet?" Harry then did explain it. If it wasn't some form of Weasley, it was Teddy. He stayed the night 3 or so times a week in the summer because he wanted to and him and Harry got on well, Harry loved that boy. Much like Sirius had loved Harry. Ginny was certain he'd make an outstanding father, the way he loved kids. For right now though, their only "kid" was an ugly, grey cat with blue eyes named Dali. Ginny had found him outside in the alley next to their building, he was going through the garbage, trying to find food. Ginny couldn't just leave him out there, so she adopted him, despite Harry's objections and he became a member of their family. Harry secretly liked him, he'd sit and work while stroking Dali's fur and muttering stuff to him. "Do you think this makes sense? Hm? You're a dumb cat, aren't you?" he'd coo at the cat. The cat just purred in return.
That's why this Sunday morning was so special, they actually got alone time. Harry had gotten home late last night, around midnight, so Ginny was going to let him sleep. They had no obligations of the day, Ginny was not due to work today, and Harry had taken a "mental health day" to sleep and get some work around the flat done, or that's what he claimed when he wrote in this morning at 5:00 a.m. before stumbling back to bed to wrap himself around Ginny again.
Ginny was in the kitchen, looking over a cookbook, granted, while it as a magical cookbook, she could not cook for the life of her. They generally ordered takeout, or Harry would help her cook, but she would make him breakfast in bed. "Mix the flour and baking powder." She muttered, grabbing these ingredients and putting them in a bowl, taking her wand out, she waved it at the bowl and said the spell. However, it was apparently said wrong, and the flour came flying out at her. "Bloody hell." She muttered, reaching a hand up to wipe away the flour from her face. This would be an adventure. It took her a bit, but she finally got the batter ready. It was about another solid hour, but Ginny had managed to make pancakes (somewhat burnt), eggs that were somewhat undercooked, bacon that was good, some coffee and she had thrown some cantaloupe in a bowl for a "balanced breakfast." Psh. It was finally assembled on a breakfast in bed tray that. "Perfect." Ginny said, smiling to herself. "I think I did a pretty decent job." Granted, she was covered in flour and had made the kitchen a complete mess, but at least she had made breakfast! "Let's clean me up though." With that, she grabbed her wand once more and pointed it at herself, saying another spell, she flicked it, and away went the flour and other cooking grease that had settled itself on her clothes. "Perfect." She said with a smile, slipping the wand back into her pocket and grabbing the tray, entering the one bedroom of the Weasley-Potter flat.
The main feature of the bedroom that Ginny loved when they had looked at the flat was the picture windows straight across from the bed. Heavy curtains were pulled open just barely, and when they were ,you got a view of the city. Not a very good view, but it let in sunlight and made it comfortable. Setting the tray down on the nightstand of her side of the bed, Ginny walked over to the curtains to pull them open a bit more so there was some light in there, it was a cave right now. Luckily she didn't trip over anything on the floor. The light that was outside made enough to light up the room, casting itself over Harry. Ginny couldn't help but smile at this image. His hair was a complete mess, dark against the light of the pillow case, the blanket was pulled up to his mid back, the rest of his skin was and pulled over muscle. Scars lined his shoulders and places on his back from years past, and his arm was awkwardly to the side. He looked peaceful, and that was a nice change. It was nice not to see him have nightmares anymore. It made her sigh that for once in his life he could actually be himself and not defined by Voldemort.
Making her way to the bed, Ginny climbed into it, crawling over to Harry and playfully climbing on top of him, placing kisses along his bareback. "Love, get up." She cooed, planting one on the back of his neck. "I have a surprise for you."
"Mmpfh." Was all she got out of the young man. "You're going to kill me." He muttered, burying his head back into the pillow.
"Come on, up, up. You can go back to sleep after the surprise." Ginny stated, poking him. "Come on, Harry Potter. Up."
"Mm, fine." He said.
Ginny grinned and rolled off of his back as he started to stir, crawling over to the nightstand, she grabbed the tray of food and smiled. "Surprise! Happy Sunday!" the grin of her face was that of self-pride.
Harry reached over for his glasses, putting them on, he looked over at the woman next to her. She was gorgeous indeed. Bright red hair pulled back into a ponytail, a button up shirt of his sat on her torso, the first few buttons undone, her legs bare. "Did you really cook for me?" he teased.
"Of course I did. I played proper fiancée and am taking care of my boy." She teased back with a smile, handing him the tray of food.
Harry accepted the tray and put it on his lap, looking down at the burnt pancakes and obviously runny eggs. If there was one thing Ginny did get right, it was his coffee, in his favorite mug too. "Thank you, babe. It looks delicious." He said, smiling. He'd eat the burnt pancakes and the runny eggs. Simply because Ginny had made them, and however burnt the pancakes were and undercooked the eggs, he knew he would like them since they were made by her, an effort which he loved because they all knew Ginny couldn't cook.
Ginny sat up crawled up next to him, sitting down and finding her way under his arm, head going onto his shoulder. Reaching down, she pulled the blanket up to her legs, and grabbed her mug of coffee. Harry's arm gave her a small squeeze as he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "I love you." They might have things to do later, but for right now, she was right where she wanted be.