Hi, sorry it took so long. I was gonna write one big chapter covering October through December but it got insanely huge so I'm splitting it into two; this being the first part.

Also, just a quick thank you to all those who have added this to their favourite stories and story alert and I feel really privileged to be added to the favourite authors of a few people. And as great as it is to receive those e-mails, we all know we really live for the reviews. So please, if you enjoyed; review. Thanks.


Harry set off early the next morning, determined to pull his weight in the renovations of Grimmauld Place. As it turned out Kreacher was in need of him. A boggart had made its home in one of the wardrobes on the third floor.

"Kreacher tried to get rid of it, sir, but it threw clothes at Kreacher; Kreacher had to run from the room sir."

"That's okay, Kreacher. I'll deal with it. Could you make a start in the kitchen?"

"Yes, master."

Harry entered the bedroom on the third floor; it was large so he assumed it must be the master where Molly and Arthur stayed when Grimmauld Place was still being used as headquarters. The wardrobe was in the corner. He walked over to it, removing his wand from his pocket as he did so.

He placed a hand on the door and pulled it open whilst stepping back so he had some distance between him and it. It stayed in the darkness for a little while giving Harry enough time to wonder what it might be. He was no longer scared of Voldemort, or Dementors. As he thought about it the only thing he was afraid of, was losing... "Ginny," he finished aloud; his voice no louder than a whisper and filled with grim expectation of what he was about to experience.

She stumbled her way out of the wardrobe, one hand pressed to her head, the other holding onto the door for support. "Harry," she moaned, looking at him through squinted eyes, as if she were dizzy and in pain. "Harry," she said again, before collapsing on the floor.

Harry fell to his knees beside her; forgetting it was a boggart, forgetting that Ginny was well and safe at Hogwarts. "Ginny, Ginny," he said over and over, shaking her shoulders. She was lifeless in his arms. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes. "Ginny," he yelled throwing his head back. He fell back over her body, burying his head in her chest.

"Master," Kreacher said quietly from behind him.

His presence in the room caused Ginny's form to shudder slightly, before returning to focus. It wasn't much but it was enough to bring Harry back to his senses. He laid Ginny back on the floor the stood up, wiping his face on his sleeve.

"Riddikulus," he said clearly; but it didn't work. "Kreacher, come closer, we need to confuse it." As Kreacher edged further into the room Ginny's shape seemed to blur even more. Harry was a little taken back when it settled on a morph of him and Ginny. He briefly wondered if that's what their children would look like before he raised his wand again and said, "Riddikulus."

Harry laughed, as with Kreacher's influence, the strange form in front of them turned to cloth and began to unravel into nothingness; its face getting more and more anxious the further up its body the unravelling travelled. Even Kreacher joined in Harry's laughter and they soon finished it off.

They spent the rest of the day working on the kitchen, cleaning every nook and cranny they could access, they then had a makeshift lunch of corned beef sandwiches before returning to work. Harry was tired when the day was over but they had successfully managed to strip the kitchen down so that the floor was bare and the only things left on the wall were the fittings. Kreacher looked sad to see his home being torn apart but helped willingly none the less. Grimmauld place wouldn't look the same when Harry was finished with it.

"I'll be back next Sunday, Kreacher," he said, as he was departing. "Could you do some light housework till then? We'll make a start on the hall and dining room next week okay?"

"Yes, sir. Goodnight," he said, bowing Harry away.

"Goodbye, Kreacher."


There was a letter waiting for Harry when he got back to the Burrow that night. He ate a rushed dinner, being ravenous after working hard all day, before going up to his room to read it.

Harry,

I would have written earlier but homework this year is pretty full on, I've only just stopped. Last night was amazing. It felt good to just let loose and really be with you without having to worry about my family walking in on us. Next Friday seems much too far away. I guess I should be thankful that I get to see you at all though.

It's like there's a switch inside of me or something. When you're here, everything's fine, but as soon as your gone, or even when you're about to leave, it's like my heart knows. It automatically starts aching; and your presence is the only antidote I know of.

Hermione's the same. She doesn't say anything but I can tell. I bet she doesn't tell Ron either; or maybe she does. I always thought there was something between them. But I suspect it's stronger than what they show. I mean, they had a really strong friendship long before they developed other feelings; they faced death together... That does something inside of you.

I should know; I have it with you. There's always been something about you. Even when I tried to move on, there was something inside of me that still held on; still hoped. I'm glad it did. Can you imagine how unfortunate life would be if I'd stayed with Michael or Dean?

Sorry, you probably don't want to think about that; especially since you've already been through that. Except you probably didn't love me as much then as you do now.

I don't doubt that; that you love me. I was so sure that I would when you weren't here to tell me, but I don't. You should follow my example. I know you worry so don't even try to deny it.

I love you, Ginny.

Harry longed to write back to her but he was much too tired for the moment; his eyes were longing to fall shut. He would write back in the morning. He left the letter on his desk to remind himself.


He woke early the next morning, his exhaustion allowing him to sleep soundly and fully; untroubled by dreams. He wrote to Ginny as soon as he got up; not caring about breakfast, he could get something later.

Ginny,

I know exactly what you mean. I dreamt about it when I got in Friday night; took me a while to remember it was real. It'll be pretty embarrassing if the rumours about it being haunted start up again. It was great seeing you let loose, but maybe less screaming next time?

Friday's only four days away; which I agree seems endless. It's worst when... It's worst whenever I think about you; so, just to clarify, all the time. I'm sleeping in Bill's room at the minute but if I can't sleep I sometimes sneak into yours; it still smells like you. I try, and usually fail, to convince myself the pillows your hair, or the sheet wrapped around me is your arm; but I still sleep better.

If I have a single regret with you, it's that, because of who I am, we had to be torn apart, just when we'd finally got together. And that I didn't realise how beautiful you are the first day I met you; that instead it took me six wasted years to even notice your existence as something other than my best friends little sister.

Don't believe that because I haven't loved you as long, that I don't love you every bit as much as you love me; I love you more. I did see you that day on the platform; my heart broke then and there. It felt as if each piece ached separately, each for different reasons, but mainly because I missed you.

Your right by the way; before you left I used to have nightmares about you leaving me. They seem pretty silly now though.

I miss you, Harry.

It must have been earlier than Harry had thought. Ron was still asleep when Harry entered his room and lured Pig down off the top of the wardrobe.

"Ron can I borrow Pig? Ron!" He said loudly, walking over to his bed and shaking him awake. "Can I use pig?" He asked whilst his eyes were open.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Ron mumbled, his words slurred together. He rolled back over and started snoring again within a few seconds.

Harry hoped he hadn't wanted to reply to Hermione – who had no doubt wrote him – as he secured his letter to Pig's leg and carried him over to the window. He watched him as far as the hilltop then headed downstairs, his stomach growling.


By the time the Friday before Hermione's nineteenth birthday rolled around, Harry's life had entered an easy-to-follow pattern. Mondays through Thursdays he went to work, Fridays he helped the DA teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, visited Hagrid and generally spent time with Ginny. On Saturday he took Teddy, and much to Andromeda's surprise, lasted the whole day without any catastrophes – major or minor.

On Sunday he arrived home covered in dust and once again exhausted; he and Kreacher had managed to clear both the dining room and the hall, putting them ahead of Harry's impromptu schedule. Harry had lost count of how many times Walburga Black's portrait had flown open, screaming at Harry for destroying her home. But in the end it was Kreacher who lost his temper with his old mistress, for 'insulting a master who had been as kind to Kreacher as her own son.' She quietened a little after that but Harry still suspected he would find something to permanently stick over her when it came around to decorating. Either that or hack the wall out.

Hermione had downright refused to sneak out of the castle via the one-eyed witch statue so they could celebrate on Saturday in Hogsmeade, so they celebrated on Friday afternoon instead. They all – Neville and Luna had also been invited – chose a secluded spot on the grounds and set up a picnic area of sorts. Hermione conjured blankets and cushions and Ginny brought snacks and drinks out from the kitchen. Harry had told her how to get in, in case she ever got hungry after their late nights together.

"Oh Harry, it's wonderful," Hermione said after unwrapping his gift. "It must have cost a fortune though, you really shouldn't have." Harry knew she wouldn't refuse it though. He had gotten her an early edition of Hogwarts: A History. "Oh my...it's-it's signed, b-by the author. Wherever did you get it?"

"Work contact," Harry replied. "It belonged to an old wizard. He passed recently, no family, no will. His possessions were going to be sold off and donated. I got wind that he owned that particular possession and put in an offer for it. I probably got it cheaper than what it would have made. I get away with a lot more than I should at work; I should probably say something but the perks are too good to refuse."

Hermione looked disapprovingly at Harry, but didn't loosen her hold on the book she had cradled to her chest. Ron reluctantly gave her his present, sulking as he thought it would never live up to Harry's.

"It's beautiful, thank you." She set his present down in her lap and placed hers hands on each side of his face. She kissed him deeply and he must have gotten some reassurance from it as he looked a lot happier when she released him. "Could you help me...?" She asked, pulling a gold chain from the small box on her lap. A pendant in the shape of a 'H' swung from it, inlaid with dark red stones. She lifted her hair out of the way and he fastened it around her neck.

After a whispered word to Ginny, Harry mentioned to Ron the fact that the Shrieking Shack has a bedroom – not that he and Ginny usually made it that far. Unsurprisingly, to Harry and Ginny at least, they disappeared just before sundown.

"Where did Ron and Hermione go?" Neville asked as they were packing up.

"Oh you know how Ron's stomach is," Ginny covered smoothly; "I expect they've both gone up to the feast already. You two go ahead we can finish up here."

Neville turned and walked to where Luna was stood a little ways away. He took her hand and the both of them walked back up to the castle together.

Harry watched on; wondering if this was a new development or if he'd just been too wrapped up in Ginny to notice anything while he was here lately.

"When did..?" He asked.

"About the same time as everyone else," Ginny told him. "She stayed with him and his grandmother for most of the summer whilst her father rebuilt their house. It's finished now though, she wrote me a letter near the end of August saying it was done."

"Why are we doing this by hand?" Harry asked, whilst taking out his wand and disappearing the items around him. "When there are so many other things we could be doing with them."

"Harry, don't," Ginny moaned quietly. "Ron and Hermione have the Shrieking Shack...please don't tempt me."

"There's got to be somewhere else," he said to himself, thinking desperately. "The only place I can think of is the Room of Requirement but that's probably broken...but not definitely." His tone had changed and a smile was tugging at the corner of his lips. "Come on," he said as he grabbed Ginny's hand and they ran up to the castle, heading for the seventh floor.

"Harry," she called ahead to him – him being a faster runner out of the two. "Harry, the whole school knows where it is!"

"Yes but they don't know what it is or how to work it; plus it won't let anyone in if we tell it not to. It's perfect."

We need somewhere...private, Harry thought, whilst pacing in front of the stretch of wall. Somewhere comfortable, somewhere nobody else can access, somewhere...romantic.

When he stopped after walking past for the third time, he was glad to see that a small door had appeared, but what he'd find behind it he still wasn't sure. He placed his hand on the handle and started to open it very gradually, eyes closed; he didn't want to see what he suspected would be a pile of ashes, or some room very much unlike what he had specified, the room's power broken after Crabbe's curse.

"Wow," he heard Ginny breathe from behind him, her voice full of awe. He figured it was safe to look so he started to open his eyes slowly at first, but they flew open as curiosity got the better of him. He too was left with an awestruck expression on his face, as he took in the space he created.

The room was small in size, compared to the usual cathedral sized rooms Harry had known in the past. It was softly lit by many candles floating just below the ceiling, much like in the great hall. The floor was carpeted in such a plush carpet that Harry seemed to bounce as his feet carried him forwards into the room. He heard the door close and guessed that Ginny had followed him in.

Everywhere he looked there were cushions and pillows, of all shapes and sizes, on sofas and mattresses that were spread over the floor. There were also throws covering bean bags, those too surrounded by more cushions. Everything was lavishly adorned in beading and sequins, ranging in colour from a plum pink through to a burgundy red, with splashes of gold seeming to sparkle in the dim light.

Ginny was on Harry before he – literally – knew what had hit him. To think they'd been using the Shrieking Shack when the castle provided what could be called nothing less than a lover's paradise.


Harry,

We just got the date of the first Hogsmeade visit; it's on Halloween. Not really important anymore since we have Friday nights now, but I thought you could come anyway. We could go to Madam Puddifoot's-

Harry laughed; he could almost hear her sarcasm through the parchment.

-That's where couples in love go, isn't it? Although, personally, I think I would puke all over the lace and doilies if you ever took me there. Three Broomsticks is much more to my taste, especially since I can order something besides butterbeer now. I grew quite attached to firewhiskey when we snuck it during the holidays.

I'm holding Quidditch tryouts next weekend. I can't decide whether to continue as chaser or go back to seeker, they're usually harder to find than chasers. Anyway, I guess I'll just have to see who turns up. Nobody's going to be able to replace you though. You're probably the best seeker Gryffindor house has ever had. I don't really care how good we are though, just so long as we win the cup.

I keep forgetting to tell you on Fridays – you being so distracting – Slughorn kept me behind after potions near the start of term and he said that he would ask Gwenog Jones to come along to my matches. He must have spotted something when I played during fifth year. Can you believe it? Imagine if I got signed by the Holyhead Harpies! Okay so that's just a silly hope. It would be fantastic though.

I'll see you Friday, Ginny.

It was Sunday 4th October. Harry had plenty of time to do whatever he wanted. He and Kreacher were starting on the second floor today. At the rate they were going, they would be done by Christmas.

Ginny,

Any time with you is important. I promise to have a firewhiskey waiting in the Three Broomsticks. Never again will I ever, under any circumstance, set foot in Madam Puddifoot's. I too would be likely to puke into my frilly lace napkin.

I thought you would have held tryouts already but I guess you've been busy with homework and DA and well, me. If you hold the tryouts on Saturday I could bring Teddy along to watch. I could help you judge applicants too, if you want. And it's not like I'm irreplaceable, you'll find a good team, I know it. And you'll win. We always managed before, no matter how worse off we were.

Holyhead Harpies would be mad not to sign you! That's really great of Slughorn to ask her to come see you play. She'd better turn up; they'll be losing the chance to have one hell of a player if they don't.

I'll meet you Friday, bright and early (you know where).

Harry.


"Happy Halloween," he said as she sat down at the table. He pushed her firewhiskey towards her. Unfortunately she chose to kiss him at that moment so he ended up pushing it straight off the table.

"Sorry," he told her, laughing at himself, "stay here, I'll get you another." He got up and made his way round the tables, having chosen the seat in the corner. Despite the distance from the bar he was soon back beside her.

"No Teddy today?" She asked him.

"No I'm taking him tomorrow instead, having a break from work. We've only got the last four rooms to clear out and then all I have to do is decorate; that's got to be a lot quicker than stripping everything down. I should be moved out by Christmas, you could erm...spend the holidays with me if you liked." He suggested, lowering his voice so only Ginny heard.

"You'd better get to work, Mr Potter," she said, smirking. She drank her firewhiskey in one go then said; "Come on, we've been to Hogsmeade loads of times. The castle's got to be pretty empty at the minute." She grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the pub, out into the street.

"You're insatiable," he yelled as they ran back up to Hogwarts.


They were both ravenous when they finally emerged for the feast that night, having spent the entire day locked up in each others' company in the Room of Requirement. They ate so fast they didn't notice Ron smirking at them, Hermione looking disapprovingly at him, and Neville and Luna looking from one pair to the other with confused looks on their faces.

Harry automatically looked over towards the Slytherin table when desert had been cleared. He saw straight away that none of his old classmates had returned to finish their education properly.

"Malfoy didn't come back then." Harry stated.

"No," Hermione said. "I heard he got a job at the Ministry; pretty low down too. I suppose it's the best he could get. He's going to have to work hard to shake of the prejudice against his family. I almost feel sorry for him."

Harry smiled along with everyone else, but it was half-hearted. His last meeting with Malfoy had affected him. For the first time since he had met Malfoy, he hadn't been hiding behind his cronies, or his brave façade or his father's reputation; he had honestly thanked Harry for saving his life. Harry had hoped that may have been the start of a change in his rival.

"I hadn't noticed he was working there," he said before anyone could notice anything.

"Too busy missing me?" Ginny asked teasingly, speaking into his ear.

"I expect he'll be keeping his head down," Hermione replied seriously. "Everyone knows you were telling the truth now Harry; about everything. They know he was assigned to kill Dumbledore."

"But he couldn't do it!" Harry exclaimed before he could stop himself. They all looked at him in confusion but McGonagall chose that moment to bustle over to where they were sat.

"I appreciate that the majority of you are all seventh years, and as such are allowed to remain out later than the rest of the school, which you may or may not have noticed, exited the hall and returned to their dormitories nearly an hour ago. So, as much as I hate to break up your little party, Mr Weasley and Mr Potter, would you kindly leave the school grounds for the night?"

Harry and Ron both looked sheepishly at McGonagall before getting up from the benches, muttering a quick goodbye, then walking towards the entrance doors and departing through them.