A/N: ya i lied there's probably gonna be a part 4 hehehe. If anybody has requests for what they'd like to see in the coming chapter(s), let me know and I'll try fitting it in (I'd like to keep drama minimal and just make this some cute fluffy hinny WITH some people that may excite you...)
"Not to be pushy, love, but you do seem to be brooding a bit more than usual."
Harry looks up into his mum's teasing eyes – almond shaped and green like his – and sighs, "Not brooding."
"Come on, Dad's in the kitchen cooking and he won't hear a word from me," she prods, refreshing both their cups and grabbing at Harry's hand, "You've got my mum's instincts flaring."
"It's not – well I am – it's not bad," Harry pauses, "Mostly."
Resettling on the couch, Lily twists until she's got one leg bent beneath her and her gaze fully focused on Harry. "Ok. Hit me with it."
"If you tell Dad or Sirius I swear – "
"Ah. A girl, then," she nods knowingly and Harry frowns.
"I'm an adult Mum, she's a woman," Harry murmurs mulishly, rolling his eyes.
Ruffling his hair, Lily tilts her head and takes him in, likely noticing the things a mother does when she's worried – bruises from training, dark circles beneath his eyes – what she surely deems evidence that he really isn't taking proper care of himself. "And where did you meet this 'woman.'"
Internally, Harry debates whether he should try and formulate some sort of cover story for their initial meeting, but nothing will really adequately convey exactly the hole he's dug for himself except the truth. "Promise no Dad?" Lily nods, and Harry points his finger at her, "Or Sirius – or Remus."
"My lips are sealed."
"She – Ginny – lives in my building," Harry starts, determinedly not making eye contact and fiddling with the frayed edge of his jeans.
"Chance meeting on the lift?" Lily guesses as a crash and a subsequent barrage of swears come from the kitchen, "James – are you alright, dear?"
More swearing, and then James calls out that he's 'alive,' which isn't particularly comforting as far as terminology goes, but mother and son have grown somewhat used to James' flair for drama, and thus dive back in to the conversation before it's too late.
Harry pauses, recalling where they'd left off and flushes involuntarily. "We – not the lift. She's my sort of neighbor?"
"Sort of."
"She saw me naked," Harry blurts, eyes going wide while Lily is apparently rendered speechless, which is an unusual occurrence for a woman known for her general witty barbs and the infamous 'Giant Squid' speech.
"Is your sexual activity pertinent to this story Harry? Because mums only want to know so much."
Harry's face is now fully buried in his hands, the blush of his embarrassment rising to cover the tips of his ears, while his mother looks a bit worse for the wear. Which is the exact moment James decides to make his entrance, "Sex talk after dinner – I made baby corn and they're really too young."
With a loud and melodramatic moan Sirius would be proud of, Harry rolls off the couch, nose pressed into the luxurious nap of the rug. "Just go on and eat without me – I'm hoping to just die right here."
It's quiet for a moment, and then James has apparently taken in his son's state and turned to his wife, "Was I this prone to histrionics?"
"Between your Potter genetics, and Sirius' influence, it's a miracle he's not in constant Hamlet mode," Lily drawls, and Harry can practically hear the flirty smirk he knows his mother is sending his father, and it's rather gross.
Pushing up on his elbows, Harry looks up at them, "Please stop whatever," he points pack and forth between them, "this is."
They both let go of the distressingly heated glance they were sharing and put on their best innocent faces. James tosses the tea towel over his shoulder, "I have no idea what you're referencing, son of mine."
Harry's debating the mental ramifications of detailing exactly what he's referencing, and he must look serious because Lily interrupts, "Why don't we eat? It smells lovely."
James quirks a brow at Lily and then offers Harry a hand up, and his smile is way too even to be trusted. "Sure, we can discuss Harry's new life as a nudist over stir fry."
As usual, dinner with his parents is filled with mutual, good-natured teasing and too much food, but Harry finds himself somewhat comforted after. Despite his reservations about telling James too, the Potters really do their best work together. Which is saying something, considering James' international renown in the medical community and Lily's multiple doctorates. By the time Harry's driving over the familiar winding roads that lead to his flat, he's loads further from the nervous break down he was verging on earlier, ready to be what Lily termed a 'mature adult' and talk things over with Ginny.
Because the theoretical world where he just lets it go and moves on sounds both unpleasant and unattainable. When you sort of live and sort of work together, there's bound to be interactions – the working together part maybe involving Harry sans clothes – and they will be highly awkward if he lets things peter out. So at least this way, the awkwardness would be proactively created, but also possibly avoided if Ginny likes him too.
And he thinks stuff like that now – 'if she likes me too' – because he's a dork trapped in a jock's body. Thanks dad.
He would be lying if he said he hadn't already been a little infatuated with his sassy neighbor before dinner and after, he's well and truly smitten. Yes smitten. And he wants to see her again, to keep seeing her as much as possible.
But this realization came alongside the revelation that they are also sort of coworkers and she's almost his doctor, which he's not really sure if any of that is a real problem or not – a series of questions that can't be resolved without talking things through with Ginny. At least that's what Mum said.
And he must really fancy her, because this will involve a full on adult conversation about feelings and relationships and shite – all of which he normally avoids like the plague. Relationships mainly because of the feelings bit that's involved rather than the actual idea of commitment. Still, he's mentally revving himself up to do it sooner rather than later, so he doesn't faff about too long and lose his chance.
Maybe Monday, Harry muses as he's pulling into the garage.
After fumbling to carry the leftovers his parents had piled into his arms when he was leaving Godric's Hollow, Harry manages to lock his car with an echoing beep as confirmation and sighs as he hears the rain start pattering.
The walk from the garage to the apartment building is only a few meters, but its enough that he's water logged and distracted by the time he's nearly at the entrance and has no chance of dodging the umbrella that opens directly into his – sensitive area.
And his entire mind goes white as he's being ushered – he thinks – into the building and guided to one of the bland couches that decorate the lobby. "Bloody hell, I'm being smited – or is it smote? Never mind, you don't care."
He moans a bit and he's being relieved of his burdens, which somehow didn't end up on the pavement. "Shite, I'm so sorry Harry."
Harry groans again, this time for his truly poor luck in wooing women – or this woman in particular. "Hey Gin," he manages to grunt, eyes scrunched shut against the pain and also in the faint hope that this is all a dream.
Ginny's hand is cool and damp against his forehead, brushing his drenched locks from his forehead. He's so caught up in enjoying it for a handful of moments he almost forgets. "You were off somewhere, you can go. I'm alright."
"It wasn't – "
"But you're a doctor."
She chuckles, low and a bit self-deprecating and he feels his chest warm despite his rain-drenched jumper. "I was on my way to buy a pint of ice cream to eat alone in my flat, ok Harry?"
Tilting his head against the back of the couch so his cheek is pressed against the slightly stale smelling cotton, Harry smiles, eyes twinkling behind streaky glasses. "I have ice cream."
Her eyes dart over his face and her expression is almost what he'd call fond as she murmurs, "Yeah?"
"Mint chocolate," Harry confirms with a shallow nod that sends his frames crooked.
Ginny drops her arm flat against the couch back and her fingers brush his temple. "Not my first choice, but I guess your offer has benefits."
Harry winks at her exaggeratedly and drawls flirtatiously, "I should think so."
Nodding while her lips tilt in a mischievous smirk, Ginny agrees as she pulls Harry to his feet, "Of course. I won't have to go out in the rain."
Narrowing his eyes playfully, Harry picks up his abandoned parcels and tilts his head toward the far end of the lobby, "Get in the damn lift Weasley."
