"You are so amazing." He whispered, kissing her bare skin.
"I love you." Her breathing was heavy and she smiled up at him.
All he could feel was the heat of her body on his. He brushed away a lock of her hair, leaning down and kissing her again.
"We're going to get caught." She warned.
"We've been down here for almost an hour like this." He continued kissing her, on her cheek, neck…
He didn't care if they got caught. He didn't care about anything but her when he was with her. Her lips were red and swollen from the force of their kisses. He breathed in her scent, wishing everything smelled that way.
"We're making love on the floor of the common room, Harry." She giggled.
"We've got blankets. One beneath us, one on top of us…we're good." He whispered before pressing his lips to hers again.
"What was that?" He glanced towards the stairs, thinking he had heard something.
"First you convince me that we're not going to get caught and now you're saying there's someone watching us?" She giggled, tilting her head up and kissing him.
"I love you."
"Promise me something."
"Anything." He brushed her hair gently, feeling its softness between his fingers.
"That you'll say it anytime I want."
"Aw." He shoved his head into her neck, laughing.
"You said anything."
"All right, all right, I, Harry James Potter, am in love with Ginerva Molly Weasley. I love you with all my heart, all the time, anywhere, no matter what. The world can fall, but my love will not. You are the most amazing person I have ever met and I love you even more every second, minute, hour and day we are near each other. My life started with you and will end with you. Now, just marry me."
"You always change the last part." She laughed softly, tears running down her face.
"And you always cry. I've made you soft. You didn't cry at the Final Battle but you do when I say I love you?" He kissed where her tears fell, still running his fingers through her soft hair.
"I cried when Ron ruined our kiss on your birthday. I love you."
"I love you forever, no matter what." He closed the miniscule distance between them and kissed her, finishing what they had started over an hour ago…
Harry's eyes opened and he found himself in his familiar flat. He had had the dream every night for a week, each time it seemed to grow more and more intense.
He glanced out the window and saw that his nap had stretched into the night. Looking at the clock, he saw that it was only half past nine. He rolled out of bed, his white undershirt wrinkled. He found his jeans and jacket, pulling them both on. He slipped his shoes on and left his room.
He had taken to going for walks after his dreams. He enjoyed clearing his head in the cool, night air. This time, he grabbed his guitar, hoping to find a nice spot to sit and play.
With his guitar on his back, he walked through the street, going down the same path he always went down, usually ending up in the middle of the road or listening to music in the bar.
He came to the bar and decided to just perch himself on the brick wall outside of the building. The bar's entrance was several steps lower than the street and sidewalk and the wall curved up, creating a railing. It was the perfect size for Harry to lie down on and play his guitar. It was curved in a way that allowed him to remain sitting up slightly.
He began strumming the guitar, singing his familiar song. He watched the occupants of the bar. There were dozens of people shuffling in and out. He looked up to the sky and continued singing.
Harry heard the door open, and glanced down to see a beautiful redhead. She had deep brown eyes and seemed lost, her arms crossed, her jacket shut tight.
"I was born to tell you I love you."
She looked up at him and her eyes softened. Harry stopped and looked from her to the stars and back again.
"You know, I remember the promise." He began tuning his guitar, not looking at her.
"What else do you remember?"
"The Dursleys. I remember magic, spells and things that I really don't understand fully. But of the memories that do matter I only have thirty-two."
"You counted?"
"Of course." He still didn't look up her, keeping his eyes on his guitar.
"But you remember the promise?"
"Actually, I remember a fantastic night on the floor of the Gryffindor common room with an amazing woman." Harry finally looked up at her, smiling slightly.
"That's a good memory to have." She stepped closer to him, her hand resting on his knee.
"Apparently, I agree, seeing that I've had that dream every time I sleep for the last week."
Ginny laughed under her breath. "You know, I've been looking for you."
"I have too."
"Where have you been?"
"C'mon, let me explain someplace…warmer." He smiled, taking her hand.
He led her back to his flat and pulled off his jacket once they were inside. She gazed around the darkened room, seeing only shadows thanks to the lights from the street shining in through the windows.
"Burns is worried about you." She told him, leaning against the piano. He shrugged, standing closely to her. He could feel the warmth radiating off of her body and he remembered his dreams vividly. It was all he could do to prevent himself from kissing her right then.
"So, you've been living here?" She asked, glancing around the dim flat.
"I have had some pretty wild dreams about you." He spoke softly, looking straight into her eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"I remember meeting you in the hospital and I have a few little memories of us just talking and kissing, but you are still a stranger to me."
Her face fell. "Oh."
Harry took a step closer, drawn to her. "But you aren't. Because I've had this other dream, this one dream and it has been driving me absolutely crazy."
"Why?"
"Because all I feel is love and passion for someone who I don't know. I can't tell you what flowers are your favorite, or if you prefer the summer over the winter. But I do know how to touch you, how to kiss you, how to make you cry." He was breathing above her lips, millimeters away.
"Really?" She breathed, her eyes falling shut as his lips collided with hers.
Harry pushed her against the piano, deepening the kiss before he felt her hands fly beneath his thin shirt, pulling it off. A small sound of pleasure erupted from her throat as he lifted her up, carrying her to his bedroom. He barely knew the woman in his arms, and yet he knew everything about her.
***
Light was streaming into the room as Harry rolled over, his arm wrapping around the soft form beside him. His eyes opened slowly and he smiled at the sight of the red-head next to him. He placed several lights kisses along her chest and neck, planting a fiercer one on her lips, waking her up.
Her hands snaked around his neck, eventually grasping tufts of his hair. He laughed slightly into the kiss, breaking it and placing his lips onto her neck, making her sigh.
"Harry, do you remember anything?"
"Yes, how much I love you." He murmured between kisses.
"No, I mean, do you remember?"
He stopped, pushing himself up above her. He stroked her gentle cheek and his lips curved into an easy smile.
"I wish I could say yes, Ginny, but I don't want to lie to you."
She seemed upset by this, but brightened as Harry's lips found hers once again. He grinned, rolling over and pulling her on top of him.
"Okay, so what are we going to do today?"
"I'm taking you to Burns." She announced softly, her fingers tracing his lips. He pushed her away, sitting up against the headboard.
"Ginny, I'm not leaving."
"Harry-"
"No, listen, this is the life I want." He said forcefully.
"No it isn't Harry and you know it."
"Maybe your Harry doesn't want this, but this Harry does. I like my friends, I like the way we live, I like waking up one day and saying I feel like going to France and not having to worry about anything tying me down."
Ginny gazed at him intensely, reading his emotions. Then she sighed, crawling out of bed. Harry watched silently as she gathered her clothes, dressing herself. He had had an amazing night, but it didn't matter now that he had had an atrocious morning.
"Look, I'm going back to school Sunday. I want to see you again, and help you remember." She held his hand, squeezing it gently.
Harry ripped it away. "Maybe I don't want to remember." He whispered.
Biting down on her bottom lip, Ginny left without another word. Harry didn't move even after he heard the sound of the door open and close. He knew he shouldn't have said that to Ginny, but he snorted; he didn't know her, what did it matter?
A hell of a lot, mate.
I like my life.
You probably like that life too.
Shame I don't remember it, huh?
Smirking at his last sarcastic thought, Harry untangled himself from the sheets and went to take a shower, hoping to wash away Ginny so he could ignore the overwhelming feeling he got at the smell of her sweet skin.
"Harry?"
As he got out of the steamy shower, Harry heard the familiar voice of Tyson and he stuck his head out of his room, seeing his friend sitting on the couch.
"One second, Ty."
"'kay."
Harry dressed quickly and paused when he noticed the necklace on the floor; it must've been Ginny's. He swiped it up and dropped it on his dresser, deciding he would find a way to get it back to her eventually. Perhaps he could mail it or something.
"How does Paris sound?" Tyson asked, his head in a magazine.
"I was just thinking about France." Harry muttered, walking into the kitchen, feeling the pull in his stomach for food.
He found an old container of Chinese in the back of the fridge and began eating it as he sat down beside Tyson. His friend remained silent, flipping through the magazine comfortably, without a care in the world. Harry envied him so much. Tyson lived how he wanted without having to deal with the constant ideal life being shoved upon him. Harry wasn't bitter, he was just lost and wanted to stick with what he knew.
Tyson eventually dropped the magazine and looked up at Harry, sighing. His forehead wrinkled and his eyes tight, Ty leaned back on the couch, pondering something intensely for several long, slightly agonizing minutes.
"Yep, we could definitely scrounge up enough cash to make it to Paris. I got a buddy there who would let us crash at his flat." He turned to Harry.
"When do we leave?"
***
"Ah, the smell of France!"
"Ah, the smell of your vodka breath!" Maddi smacked Casen on the back of the head as they stumbled down the street.
Harry felt very light from the several bottles of wine he and Maddi had shared together and he knew the others were feeling much better than him, having spent more time at the bar. The air was cool and Harry knew he was probably a real sight to see. His hair was a jumbled mess of auburn and black, the auburn streak mixing randomly with the rest of his natural colored hair now that it had grown out nearly an inch, falling just over his forehead now.
Tyson was walking slowly, smoking his last cigarette of the night. He had a distant look in his eyes and Harry knew he had been enjoying more than alcohol that night. Dave had an arm around Kyle and was humming a random tune, a near-empty beer bottle in his hand.
"Be nice to me, Maddi, I'm going to be the Prime Minister one day." Casen slurred, licking his lips.
"I'm sure you will, Case." Maddi yawned, leaning her head on Harry's shoulder. "I want to go to bed now."
"We're a block away." Tyson said from behind his friends, his voice sounding distant just as his eyes appeared. Harry was the most sober amongst them and was the only who noticed.
When they made it to the basement flat, Tyson fumbled for his keys and after several failed attempts he managed to get the door open. They all piled in, landing in their make-shift beds. Casen landed flat on the ground with a musty pillow and blanket, Dave and Kyle each had a squashy lounge chair and Tyson crashed on the dusty, red couch. Harry shared the fold-out couch with Maddi, where he landed gracefully, covering his head with a pillow.
He felt Maddi land beside him, rolling over to her respective side and falling asleep almost instantly. No words were ever exchanged as, slowly, Harry heard the collective heavy breathing of every person in the room. He counted each pattern of breathing and removed the pillow covering his eyes when he didn't hear Tyson's.
He looked over to the small couch Ty slept on and found it empty. Harry stood up, barely feeling the wine at this point. He walked outside, into the alley, looking for Tyson. He was smoking a fresh cigarette, staring out at the quiet streets of Paris.
"What are you doing out here, Ty?"
He took a long drag, releasing a puff of smoke. "Life is complicated isn't it, Harry?"
"You have no idea." Harry sighed, leaning against the brick building.
"I love Paris." Tyson smiled, licking his bottom lip, his eyes still staring out at the silent street. Harry ran a hand through his hair, looking at his friend.
"The reason I actually came here was this." Tyson pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper, handing it to Harry.
Harry read it and looked up sharply at Ty. "What does this mean?"
"Castor Tuscan has been out to get me for years. His little gang, the Midnight Riders," Tyson snorted. "Basically if they want you dead, you better get out of the country fast if you want a chance at survival."
"What are you going to do?"
"We fight back."
"Ty, they want to kill you, this is a death threat." Harry held up the letter.
"What do you want me to do about? Run off like a scared little girl? No, I'm going to fight back."
"They're going to kill you, Tyson, all of us."
"Us? Oh, no, you're staying away from us for a few weeks."
"No!"
"Yes!" Tyson glared at Harry intensely.
"I am not going to stand around while my friends are off getting themselves killed! I'm going with you and that's that." He hissed, stepping closer to his friend.
"Fine." Tyson took several more drags on his cigarette before dropping it. He walked back to the flat, leaving Harry to follow him.
Harry didn't sleep well that night. Two nights ago he had been in the arms of a beautiful woman and now he was facing his friends' possible murders. It made no sense. Why did this Castor have such a huge problem with Tyson and his friends? Maddi had told him once that there were several crews that hung around London; theirs' was just one of the many. Obviously these Midnight Riders were something to be feared if Tyson had run all the way France.
The next morning, Harry woke up to everyone gone, leaving behind a short note. Harry read it quickly and then threw it down, angry. They had gone back to London. Without him. Tyson may have been trying to save him, but Harry didn't want to be saved, he wanted to stand beside his friends, where he belonged.
He locked the flat up, stashing the keys in the gap on the wall where a brick had been blown out. He couldn't believe they would go to such extremes to keep him safe. This only made him more determined to get London in time.
He managed to catch the very last train out of Paris and had arranged a flight in Lille. He should make it to London by that night, hopefully before Tyson and the others met their doom at the hands of Castor Tuscan. The entire train ride, Harry stared out the window, ignoring the wonderful landscape of France. He sat alone in his compartment, his thoughts on his friends.
How would they even defend themselves? Harry knew Tyson wouldn't just hand himself over and neither would the others. Then he remembered it. The closet.
"Don't open that door, Harry."
"Why?"
Tyson took a sip of his beer. "That closet has some personal items in it. I don't want you messing with them."
"I wouldn't mess with them."
"I know, but still, just don't go in there, okay?"
Harry had disregarded the closet but now it all made sense. Tyson kept his guns in there. He had mentioned before that he was rather familiar with them and had at one point carried one for protection. Harry hadn't questioned if he still had any, but now he knew.
This was more than a grudge between two men. It was a gang war. And Harry was joining in for his friends. He had never even seen a gun in person. Suddenly the train ride seemed incredibly slow and Harry remembered every single breath he took and every scent he smelled. He listened to the sounds of the world, from the cries of a baby several compartments away to the rushing sound of the wind as it passed over the train. He remembered every bit of his journey.
A/N: The next chapter will be a while, partly because these chapters take a lot longer to write and I also keep lots of stories going. But I tend to write for whatever story is getting the most reviews :)
