Gigi was a bit apprehensive as she arrived at Harry's place. As Gigi climbed the front steps, she studied the old brick exterior, the wide windows, the polished brass handle of the black door. Harry took his wand from is pocket and flicked it upwards. The gas lanterns that sat on either side of the door lit up, flames licking against the glass, and the front door gently opened.

"I can take your bag," Harry offered, reaching for Gigi's suitcase.

"It's fine," she said, following him inside. She was pleasantly surprised by her surroundings. Harry's house was comfortable, but cleaner than she had expected. His living room was round, and filled with brown leather chairs and a big sofa on a cream colored shag carpet. There was a big, old fashioned wireless in the corner, a small bookshelf, and a grandfather clock that ticked slowly.

"This way, then," Harry said, walking through the living room. He turned the corner and began to walk up the stairs. They creaked ever-so-lightly as Gigi made her way up them, but she didn't mind. They were old-fashioned, and that added to the charm of them. The wall that the staircase was built into was brick, but portraits of Harry's family members managed to stay up on the brick. They all slumbered softly as Gigi passed, but she had a feeling that they were all watching her out of the corner of their eyes. "So…" Harry paused in the middle of the hallway. "There's a guest room here, if you want it…" he trailed off slightly as Gigi peaked past him into the room.

"If you don't mind, I would prefer to sleep in your room." She blinked up at Harry. "I'm a little scared after that."

"Scared?" Harry asked. "Gigi Meyers? Actually scared?" He grinned a little to lighten the mood, and Gigi pinched his arm. "I don't mind at all." He took a step closer to Gigi and placed a finger under her chin, so he could tilt it up towards him. "I would prefer it too."

Gigi fluttered her eyelashes lightly, and Harry ran his thumb down the side of her jaw.

Harry and Gigi joined hands and continued to walk down the hall, to the end, where Harry's bedroom was located. In the middle of the room was a gigantic, plush bed, complete with handsome wood foot and headboards, there was another leather chair in the corner, and under the window, a desk. There was an armoire in the corner, a mirror over that, and a broomstick was propped up in the furthest corner of the room. The roof appeared simply not to exist. "It's glass," Harry told Gigi as she stared up, astounded by the ceiling.

"It's so beautiful," Gigi murmured, dropping her suitcase. She walked into the middle of the room, still staring at the visible sky. "It's so clear."

"When I bought the house, I wasn't sure that I was going to be able to have that feature put in. The Ministry thought it would be safer if I didn't have something glass, something so vulnerable and fragile."

"They thought someone would try to break in through the roof," Gigi noted, glancing at Harry. He shrugged.

"Yeah. But I decided to have it put in anyway. I'm not going to enjoy what I want just because there might be someone out there who wants to hurt me. I'm not going to stop my life for them."

"Good strategy," Gigi said approvingly. "Don't be intimidated, unless you're the intimidator."

"I'm never intimidating," Harry replied. "Come on now. I'm not intimidating in the slightest."

"Everyone can be intimidating," Gigi pointed out. "Depends on how. I'm not intimidated of you as a boss, but when it comes to us, yeah I'm intimidated. You could break my heart, shatter it even."

Gigi's arms trembled a bit as she said this, as if they were protesting her declaration of these words. Her body rejected the vulnerability it had just projected.

"Does that mean I have your heart?" Harry asked, stepping closer to Gigi. Gigi's brown eyes widened a bit. "If I was to break it, I would have it, wouldn't I?"

"You have my heart," Gigi pledged. She placed a hand on Harry's chest. "You've had it for a long time."

"Oh yeah?"

"Remember when we first took that trip to Hogwarts?" Gigi asked. "Where you gave that press conference on defense? And we had to stay in that shabby inn?"

"When you told me about that tattoo?" Harry ran his fingers over Gigi's shoulder.

"That was when I realized I really really liked you. My head was telling me it was illogical to like you, and that I really shouldn't. But my heart conquered my thoughts, not something that happens often." Gigi turned away from Harry, as if she had said too much.

"You've had my heart since we first met," Harry revealed to Gigi, and she took in a sharp breath. "When you stomped into the Auror's office, so pissed at having to work there…I thought your persona was breathtaking. You were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. Still are."

Gigi hesitantly took Harry's hand in her own. She looked up at the sky once more, and then yawned slightly.

"I need sleep," she said.

"I know," Harry replied. He picked up her suitcase and handed it to her. "Bathroom's right through there." He nodded towards a door Gigi hadn't noticed earlier. As Gigi slipped into the bathroom to change, Harry changed quickly and then slipped into bed. He put his arms behind his head and looked up to the sky.

He remembered back to his Hogwarts days, when he had the most peculiar class. He had been taught by the Centaur, Fiernze, and the class had been in a classroom where the heavens were visible overhead. He remembered how, in a few classes, Fiernze had told them that certain planets symbolized different myths, different dangers, different emotions. Mars was war, anger, and decisiveness, where as Neptune was serene, morose. The planet that stood out the brightest was the telltale symbol of the viewers deepest emotions. Tonight, the night Harry had revealed something so personal to Gigi, felt such an immense connection to the woman of his affections, Venus was high in the sky.

Venus, the planet of love, sensuality, and at times, lust.

At that moment, the door to the bathroom slid open. Gigi padded out, wearing the same thing she had worn when she had slept next to Harry in the Hogs Head. But this time, things were different. And both Harry and Gigi knew it.

Gigi smiled at Harry as she set down her bag. She walked over to the bed, climbed onto the end, and began to walk forward on the mattress on her hands and knees, her hair falling over her face. When she was just inches from Harry's face, she leaned forward and ran her fingers lightly over his hairline. She ran those fingers over his collarbone, and then down his chest. She leaned forward and kissed Harry deeply, and Harry responded easily, accepting her touch, rolling her over so he could press her down into the mattress, his lips fused to hers.

They broke apart, each panting slightly. Harry, driven nearly mad with the lust Gigi had installed in him, leaned down and began to kiss her neck, causing her to arch her back in desire. His touch was as light as a feather and as cool as ice on her white-hot skin. His lips suckled slightly on her pores, and Gigi began to feel as if she was melting at his touch. She wanted him to never stop touching her, but she knew in her heart that this was not the right time. Not now, it was too much too soon.

"Goodnight, Harry," Gigi said, suddenly yanking her legs up and shoving them under the sheets. Harry paused, unsure of what was going on, and then caught a glimpse of Gigi's slight smirk.

"Unfair," he laughed, kissing her bare shoulder. "You really had me going."

"I didn't want you to stop either," Gigi admitted, slinking down in the sheets. Harry shook his head, but smiled at her. He took off his glasses and placed them on the nightstand next to him.

"Goodnight," he told her, turning off the lights with a swish of his wand. He opened the door to the nightstand and placed his wand in it.

"I'm glad I'm here," he heard Gigi whisper to him. He turned to see her expression, but she was laying on her side, her back to him. In the light from outside, he could make out the scar on her back.

"If you got a tattoo, what would you get?" He asked her. He reached out and touched the scar, and Gigi's arm tensed the slightest bit. "I mean now. I know why you got the one you did."

"I don't know," Gigi mused, turning over onto her back. She looked up into the sky. "If I got one at all, it would have to mean something to me. Be something really important. The one before, I thought it did but it didn't really. I was so young."

"You still are," Harry pointed out. Gigi smiled at him. She inched closer to Harry, and he reached out an arm and pulled her into his side. They fell asleep like that, their arms around each other. Gigi fell asleep easily that night. When she was at home, she would read first to try to sleep. Sometimes, she would wake up in the middle of the night, often periodically. But tonight, she slept like a rock.

Harry loved falling asleep next to Gigi. He had fallen asleep next to one other girl in his lifetime, and that was Ginny Weasley. She was a terrible sleeping partner, as she had tossed and turned and flew into a rage during her sleep, tossing her hair and lashing out with fists. Gigi was soft and demure in her sleep. She made no noise, she hardly moved at all, except for a small sigh every now and then, and a twitch of her foot. Harry was content just to kiss the back of her bare neck, place his jaw on her shoulder and place his arm on top of hers, so she could sleepily twist their fingers together, creating a sort of human pretzel.

Gigi woke up early, as usual. She woke up, careful to slip out from Harry's grip without waking him. She walked over to her bag, took out her running clothes, and slipped them on. She looked back at Harry to make sure he was still asleep, and then she quietly tip-toed out of the room, out the house, and closed the door behind her gently, as gently as she could manage. She stepped out onto the street and took a deep breath of the fresh morning air, which tingled in her throat.

"Gigi?" Someone asked. She opened her eyes and to see Hermione, standing on the street in front of Harry's house. She held a container of food in one hand, and her car was parked right out in front. Gigi felt herself blush under Hermione's direct gaze.

"Hi," Gigi said awkwardly. She swung her ponytail over one shoulder and examined the ends. "I was just going out for a run."

"From Harry's house?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"I…" Gigi found herself at a loss for words. But then, remarkably, Hermione's expression softened.

"Let's go for a walk," Hermione said in a tone that indicated that Gigi really had no choice. Gigi fell into step with Hermione, walking down the leaf-covered street, past the other joggers and mothers out pushing their children in strollers. Hermione's pregnant belly protruded in front of her by a few inches.

"So when are you due?" Gigi asked, nodding to Hermione's belly.

"April," Hermione answered, suddenly beaming. She placed a hand on her stomach.

"Boy or Girl?" Gigi asked.

"Girl," Hermione said with a brisk nod. "Relieved, actually. Is that bad? No. I'm relieved." Gigi let out a small giggle. Hermione smiled vacantly. "So you slept at Harry's last night?"

So it began.

"Yeah. My house was broken into last night, so Harry invited me to stay."

"Oh, that's awful," Hermione exclaimed, her hand going to her heart. "I assumed…"

"Of course you did," Gigi finished. "Anyone would have."

Hermione paused in step, still clutching the container of leftovers. "I'm too direct, I've always been. Too pushy and intrusive but Harry is my best friend, next to Ron. I just, I need to make sure everything is okay for him."

"I understand," Gigi replied. "I'm always cautious."

"Do you love him?" Hermione stopped and stared at Gigi, their brown eyes piercing each other. Gigi hesitated in answering. Love was the strongest word in her vocabulary. It could be the most hurtful and yet, the most lovely word. Did she love Harry? Gigi considered it. While it was true that she shrunk away from strong feelings, she also was beginning to accept them. Harry had changed her. She felt more, coped with more, and enjoyed more. And here was the kicker: Gigi loved everything about Harry. She loved how he wore suits to work. She loved how his hair stuck up in the back of his head. She loved how he said her name, and how when he kissed her, his hands cupped her back. She loved it when his eyes blazed when he saw her, and how everything he said was so inexplicably perfect. Most of all, Gigi loved that when she was with Harry, she loved everything about her life, and everything about herself. She couldn't imagine herself being happier or more carefree or with anyone else in the world.

"Yes," Gigi answered slowly. "I love him a lot. More than anyone I've ever been with."

Hermione smiled at her.

"I can tell," she said. "You know he cares deeply for you. When you first came to work for him, he told Ron that you scared him. Because you were so perfect, he thought you had to have some kind of fatal flaw. So far, he can't find one."

"He puts me on a pedestal I don't deserve," Gigi argued. "He'll find out in time."

"Just…don't hurt him, okay?" Hermione bit her lip as they turned the corner. "He's already been through more pain than any one person should have to bear."

"I would never intent to hurt him," Gigi responded. Hermione smiled at her words.

"Good," she said, as they turned back onto Harry's block. "Er…would you mind taking this up to him? He loves leftovers, but I don't really think I should take it into him at the moment."

"Sure," Gigi said, accepting the container of pork chops. The two women gave each other brief smiles and then, Gigi began to walk back up the stairs of Harry's apartment.

"Gigi?" Hermione asked, rolling down the window to her car. "I never mean to be as pushy as I do."

"I do," Gigi replied, causing Hermione to laugh. Hermione waved, rolled up the car window, and took off down the street. Gigi opened the door to Harry's house and walked inside.

She felt as if her heart was bursting. The sun was beginning to filter through the windows, and here she was, in a beautiful, safe house with the man she loved. She loved him. It had all Gigi took not to scream it out to the neighborhood. Instead, she walked into Harry's kitchen and pulled open the fridge. Twenty minutes later, Harry awoke to the smell of bacon, eggs and toast. Sleepily, he pulled the covers off his legs, put on his glasses, and headed downstairs.

Gigi was standing in the kitchen, her wand poised over the stove. Her hair was up in a bun, and she was wearing tight-fitting running clothes, but she showed no sign of any physical exertion. Unaware of his presence, Gigi walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a jug of orange juice, fresh-squeezed.

"Good morning," Harry suddenly said, and she jumped a bit. She turned to face him, a small smile playing around her lips.

"Hi," she said brightly. "Oh, I wish you had waited a bit longer to wake up. I was making you breakfast in bed."

"Why?" Harry asked. "I've never had anyone make me breakfast in bed."

"Because you were so good to let me stay here," Gigi supplied with a shrug. She went back to the stove and shook the pan around a bit. Harry walked up behind her and kissed her lightly on the neck. Gigi smiled and pulled her head down to her other shoulder, so Harry could kiss his way along her collarbone.

"Thank you," he said, kissing her on the jaw. "And you didn't have to do this. Really, I wouldn't have wanted you to stay anywhere else."

"I wanted to stay here," Gigi points out. She took the pan off the stove, whisked it over to the counter and poured the contents out on a plate. She had made a perfect omelet. "Hermione stopped by."

"Oh yeah?" Harry asked. "She left leftovers, didn't she?"

"Yeah," Gigi said, raising an eyebrow.

"She thinks because I'm single I can't cook," Harry said. "Which, sadly, is true. I eat out almost all the time now, ever since Kreacher died."

"Well, don't worry about it," Gigi piped up, putting the pan in the sink. She walked over to Harry, slipped a hand around his neck and pulled his lips down to hers. When she let go of his neck, Harry pulled on her jacket pockets, still keeping her closer. Gigi pulled away with a giddy laugh. "You're not single anymore."

"No, I'm not," Harry agreed, his smile just as wide as Gigi's.