Author's Note: StephanieO was once again a super big help! Her advice on the psychotherapy scenes in chapters 10 and 11 was so valuable! Thank you, awesome readers, for being patient with me. School year is starting soon and that will slow me down. I promise I will not abandon this fanfic, so please stick with me. Shout out to my cool reviewers: scrappy8, srhittson, triggbc, tmtcltb, nesciamema, and RAVENCLAWDISTRICT1.
Disclaimer: All creative rights belong to their original creator(s) and in no way are connected to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury Publishing, or Warner Brothers. The author of the following fanfiction does not in any way profit from the story and is written solely for entertainment purposes only. Rights to characters and their setting is neither claimed nor implied.
Serendipity Chapter 11
I woke up with my arm slung around Ginny in my bed at Grimmauld Place. A massive erection tented my pajamas. I didn't have any nightmares last night but they had been replaced with sex dreams. I softly kissed her shoulder and gently extricated myself from bed. I grabbed my glasses and went to the loo.
I stepped into the shower, not bothering for it to warm up. I sighed in frustration and decided to take the bludger and ask my psychotherapist when I could have sex again. I would do anything for Ginny, I found that out when I thought I had lost her. It still felt like torture to be so in love with someone and not being able to do anything to express that love physically. Plus I missed seeing her naked. She is really the sexiest woman on the planet...okay I need to think of something else. The cold shower could only do so much.
I got dressed and woke up Ginny but she looked like she was stirring anyway. She took her turn in the loo and met me downstairs as soon as I finished making eggs and toast. She kissed me on the cheek, smelling heavenly and clean, as she took her plate.
"Thanks for making breakfast, love."
"No problem." I poured the tea.
"Busy day at the office ahead?" She inquired as she scooped eggs onto her toast.
"I think not. Most likely a lot of paperwork. How about you?"
"More drills and practice. It will probably be miserable in this weather."
I glanced out the small basement window, the sky looked menacing. The clouds looked like they would open up at any moment. Suddenly paperwork didn't seem like the worst thing.
"We have our appointments today at Ms. Pye's office, right?"
I nodded and swallowed my toast. I still wasn't confident that this would help. It seemed like the only thing that offered me relief was Ginny. "Mine is at 12 and yours is at 1. Are you sure you don't mind coming with me? I feel bad about you missing work."
She smiled at me and my heart quickened a beat. "I'll be missing lunch and warm-up stretches for the afternoon, not a quidditch match."
I nodded and finished the rest of my tea before it went cold. I still felt a little guilty. I gathered my cloak and Ginny's from the hall and helped her into it. January was fading into February and the weather was getting colder.
Ginny gave me a lingering hug, the kind where I could feel her breasts against my chest. I pulled away before my body could react, giving her a swift kiss on her supple lips.
The morning dragged by slowly. I must have cast a tempus charm every ten minutes. I did catch up on two case files and start on a third.
When lunch time finally arrived, I headed out to my psychotherapist's office instead of a restaurant. I transfigured my cloak into a muggle coat and fastened the buttons. It was snowing again.
Ginny arrived a minute before I went in for my appointment. She beamed at me and sat next to me, holding my hand in encouragement. All too soon, I was being called into Healer Pye's office.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter. It is good to see you again, do sit down."
I folded myself onto the couch as she sat down on the wingback chair opposite. She handed me a leather bound journal of parchment paper. "This is your journal. I would like you to jot down some details of your post traumatic stress symptoms daily. If you spend the night with Ms. Weasley and experience uninterrupted sleep, write about that. If you spend the night by yourself and experience night terrors, write about those in as much detail as you can recall. Have you experienced any night terrors since our last appointment?"
"No, we have been sleeping together which seems to help us both. Which brings me to my question," I dropped my eyes to the leather journal in my lap, fidgeting uncomfortably, "When can we...have sex again?"
Her eyebrows rose a little, "You do not have to abstain, why were you under the impression you could not have sex?"
I exhaled in relief, "When I asked Ginny to be my girlfriend, she said that she didn't want to be my crack until I got counseling."
She nodded and scribbled something down on her notes. "I'm assuming the crack was a metaphor for you using sex and alcohol to get yourself to sleep? Or were there actual drugs involved?"
"It was a metaphor, I have no interest in drugs."
"I see. Will you describe your relationship with Ms. Weasley prior to you asking her to be your girlfriend?"
"That is sort of a long story. She is my best friend's younger sister so I have known her since I was 12. We dated at Hogwarts while I was in my 6th year but I broke up with her when I went to destroy Voldemort's horcruxes. I didn't want her to be a larger target than she already was for deatheaters. Before this last Christmas we met and had a….um….sexual relationship for about a month. A friends with benefits thing but we were still free to date others. It was during this time that I finally realized that no one else could compare to Ginny. She's the only witch I want. This is why I'm willing to do this psychotherapy, for her."
She finished writing notes and looked up at me, "This explains the magic more clearly. You definitely love her."
A blush stained my cheeks and I dropped my gaze to my lap once more.
"So to clarify, you have been in a monogamous relationship with Ms. Weasley for over a month now?"
"Basically, yes. We both tried dating others but it luckily didn't seem to work out for either of us."
"And during this time, you used sex with Ms. Weasley to help yourself sleep?"
"Yes, but that wasn't the only reason I had sex with her," I said, trying to assuage my guilty conscience.
She sat back in her chair and gazed out the window. Snowflakes were collecting on the window pane. "My advice, Mr. Potter, would be to have sex with her at times where it is clear you aren't using her. It seems like Ms. Weasley, although worried for you, does not want to be used as a sleeping potion. So in order to convince her it is out of love, have sex during the day or morning, when neither of you will go back to sleep. It would be wise to journal about this as well...not the intimate details, but just your feelings about it."
I nodded, that all made sense. I wouldn't want to be used as a sleeping potion either.
"Now with our remaining half hour, I would like to discuss your night terrors. It often helps to talk about these things during the light of day, as they hold less power over us later on. Please tell me everything you can remember."
I took a deep breath, "I'm not exactly sure where to start? My oldest night terrors or most recent?"
"Whichever you would like."
I decided to go chronologically to keep them in order. "I suppose my earliest one was when my mother died. For years I would have night terrors of a flash of green light and my mum screaming my name. It took me a long time to figure out that was her dying." I looked up to see Healer Pye blinking back tears. Most of the wizarding world knew this story a full decade before I did. 'My aunt and uncle told me my parents died in a car crash. When I went to Hogwarts, I started having nightmares about Lord Voldemort, especially after I met him in the forbidden forest and again when he tried to steal the Philosopher's Stone.
My second year my nightmares expanded to the basilisk, finding Ginny dead in the Chamber of Secrets, and having Hermione never wake up from being petrified from the basilisk.
Third year I still dreamed about Voldemort but also the grim telling me that I was going to die. That is also when I started being afraid of dementors until I learned how to cast a patronus charm.
Fourth year I dreamed about the death eaters at the Quidditch World Cup, Voldemort returning, and Cedric getting murdered. Sometimes I dreamed about Mad Eye Moody turning into Barty Crouch Junior, but those weren't that big of a deal.
Fifth year I dreamed about Voldemort returning, my godfather dying, and death eaters taking over the ministry.
Sixth year I dreamed about Voldemort, hunting horcruxes, and Professor Dumbledore dying.
What would have been my seventh year was consumed by Lord Voldemort and fear of being captured by death eaters.
Recently I dream that the war is still happening, that I am still in a tent hunting horcruxes with Ron and Hermione. Sometimes I dream that I am fighting Voldemort, or that I lost and am watching everyone that helped me be killed in front of me."
"I can see why you have been reluctant to sleep! Have you taken sleeping potions?"
"Yes, a few times. I just don't like the way they make me feel."
"And how is that?"
I chewed my lip, thinking, "Vulnerable? Like if I was attacked again I wouldn't be able to defend myself. And when I wake up in the morning my head isn't clear. I need to have complete control over my body and mind if I am an auror, especially when I'm out in the field."
"I see. I am going to give you a milder sleeping potion. This formula is roughly half the strength of a normal potion. If you do not need to use it, that is fine. But one of these days either you or Ms. Weasley will need to spend the night elsewhere, perhaps for work or travel. I would rather you have this on hand than resort to your old habits." Healer Pye walked over to her desk and produced a small bottle with lavender liquid swirling around.
"I'm afraid that is all the time we have for today, Please write in your journal."
I thanked her, collected my potion and book, and walked (feeling surprisingly lighter) out of the office. I leaned down to give Ginny a kiss. "May I take you out this evening?"
Her face lit up. I loved making her smile, it never grew old. "Sure! Where?"
"I don't know yet. Pick you up at 7?"
She stood on her tiptoes and kissed my cheek, "See you then!"
The last thing I wanted Ginny to feel was like a potion. I wanted to show her just how much I cared for her. I was going to make this a really special date.
On the way back to the Ministry, I stopped and bought a sandwich, eating as I walked. I walked briskly back to my office and quickly finished my third case file. I submitted them to my department head and walked a lap around the office before slipping out. I took the lift to Hermione's office. Her door was open and she was writing with her right hand, eating a salad with her left hand, and reading from a book at the same time. I was instantly impressed. I knocked on the door frame.
"Can I steal a moment of your time?"
Hermione looked up, startled, then smiled, "Harry! I was wondering what happened to you! Come in, come in, sit down!"
There was absolutely nowhere to sit down. A stack of folders, parchment, and memos occupied the only other chair in the room. Hermione took her wand and used it to close the door and levitate the parchment off of the chair.
"Please excuse the mess. Deadlines wait for no one!"
I settled into the chair. "So what all did Ginny tell you?"
Her eyes widened in alarm.
I chuckled, "I'm not trying to trick you, just trying to save time catching you up."
"You two talked then?"
"Yes, I just got back from my psychotherapist's office not an hour ago."
"Oh, Harry! That's wonderful! Good for you!"
"Thanks. I wanted your advice, something easy this time, I think."
Hermione took a bite of salad and gestured for me to continue. "I want to take Ginny out on a romantic date to makeup for...well...everything. I realized that she probably felt like she was being used and I want to show her that I really care for her."
Hermione smiled, "What have you got planned so far?"
"I'm picking her up at 7. That's it."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're not giving me much to work with here, only five hours away? First of all you need to make reservations."
"Can I get reservations on such short notice?"
"Probably, it's still a weekday," she waved dismissively. "Take her out to eat somewhere nice."
I waited for more but soon realized there was no more coming as she went back to scribbling with her quill.
"That's it? Take her out to eat?"
"Harry, this is hardly my department of expertise. Just do what you think Ginny will enjoy the most. You know her pretty well."
I waited a moment but it was pretty clear I had come at a bad time. Hermione had enough of her own troubles, if the stack of parchments and files to my right was any indication. "Alright, I'll let you get back to work."
"Good luck," she called out distractedly.
I went back to my department and buried my nose in reports until 5:00. I was in the lifts at 5:01, determined to make this a good first date. How often do you get to re-do a first date?
I pulled on my coat, tightening it against my body to ward off the chill. The snow had stopped, leaving small drifts against the buildings. I walked for a good bit around London, looking for the perfect restaurant. I just wanted it to stand out, to be impressive.
I stopped dead in my tracks at 32 London Bridge Street. A massive skyscraper twisted at an interesting angle, disappearing into the low lying cloud bank. An advertisement on the sidewalk was boasting of its five star restaurant, bar, and hotel upstairs. I took the lift and managed to get a reservation for 8:00. The views were breathtaking. You could see London sprawling out in all directions from the restaurant's floor to ceiling windows. I was excited to see what it would look like all lit up against the night sky.
The last time I saw London lit up at night this high was when I was flying on a broomstick with Mad Eye Moody and Tonks right before my 5th year at Hogwarts. I missed them both. And the thought made me want to fly along the Thames again. Perhaps Ginny would be up for a late night ride? She loved flying as much as I did, if not more.
I went home to get ready and look up disillusionment charms.
