Someone was gently wiping his face with a damp cloth. Harry lay very still, keeping his eyes closed while he tried to figure out where he was. He could tell it was dark beyond his closed lids; he was no longer in King's Cross Station and already the memory of seeing his parents felt more like a dream. He was lying on his back, on a hard floor, with his hands crossed over his stomach, and he was holding . . .
Harry opened his eyes to find Kreacher's watery brown ones staring at him. When the elf saw that Harry was awake, he stopped his ministrations and bowed solemnly. "Master Harry, you are back. How do you feel?" he asked with great formality.
Harry struggled into a sitting position. There was a dull ache in his stomach where Kreacher's killing curse had hit him and a tender spot on his shoulder, likely from hitting something as he fell. But his head was clear and he felt stronger than he had in months. He looked around, needing to be sure.
"So Voldemort is really gone then?"
Kreacher nodded, his head still bowed. "You freed me from him, Master Potter. I felt it and I saw it. He is gone, and cannot return." The elf bent even lower. "As I will be, as soon as you say so." He spoke with resignation. Harry frowned.
"Where are you going, Kreacher? Do you . . . not wish to be in my employ any longer?" Harry matched Kreacher's formality, but he wasn't sure if his question would be taken as offensive anyway.
Kreacher finally raised his head. Large tears dripped down his pointed nose as he spoke. "I . . . I failed you, Master Harry. I let that evil, dark wizard into your house, into my head. I didn't fulfill my duty to serve you and protect the ones you love." The elf's voice grew to a wail. "I nearly killed Miss Weasley, and then I did kill you!" Kreacher banged his head on the table. "I know you want to give me clothes," he said. "I will take them and you never need to see me again." The elf finished his speech with a sob before turning away from Harry.
Harry's heart jumped at the mention of Ginny, but he forced himself to focus on situation in front of him first.
"I don't blame you, Kreacher," he said firmly. "You couldn't help what Voldemort did to you. He is . . . was, the most powerful dark wizard who ever lived, and the fact that you were able to keep him from possessing you completely is what saved my life. It saved all our lives."
Kreacher shook his head. "I didn't save your life, I took it!" he cried.
"Because I ordered you to," said Harry gently. "If you hadn't been fighting Voldemort so hard in your head, you wouldn't have been able to follow that order, and we never would have been able to destroy him forever." Now that he had his bearings, Harry's urge to get to Ginny was rapidly becoming the only thing he could think about. He took a deep breath. "Kreacher, if Voldemort hadn't possessed you, if he'd chosen someone else, we never could have defeated him." Harry was careful to include the elf in his explanation. "There were no other options; I didn't even know until after I was dead that I'd be able to come back. You made that possible."
Kreacher wiped his eyes and sat up straighter. "I did?" he asked in disbelief. "I am just a house elf. I can't defeat a wizard." He looked down at Harry's hands. "I used a wand! I should never have used a wand!" He shook his head. "I gave it back to you as soon as I could."
Harry held up the Elder Wand and his own holly and phoenix feather wand, both of which Kreacher had apparently put in his hands while he was unconscious. "And you used it better than many wizards could have," he promised. He looked down at the Elder Wand, considering. It was still the most powerful wand in existence, and Harry worried he still needed as much power as he could get. He bit his lip; had he reassured Kreacher enough?
Apparently he had. Kreacher stood up and pulled Harry to his feet. "You have to go to Miss Weasley now," he said briskly.
Harry looked towards the Floo. "I'll have to Apparate; I dropped the Floo powder. He started moving in the direction of the front door.
Kreacher shook his head. "Or you can come with me," he said. He took Harry's arm and snapped his fingers and the kitchen of Grimmauld Place evaporated.
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They reappeared not at the Burrow's distant Apparition point, but just outside the back door, and Harry was grateful for the swiftness of house elf magic. At first he could not understand why it was so quiet, and his stomach swooped with fear. Maybe he'd been wrong and Voldemort wasn't really gone; maybe he'd come here instead, as soon as Harry died. But then a pinkish glow in the sky caught his eye and Harry realized it was the sun, just starting to rise. He'd left for Grimmauld Place in the middle of the night; everyone was probably still fast asleep. He took a deep breath before quietly pushing open the door. Maybe he could have Ginny back in time for breakfast.
The Burrow's kitchen looked much as it had when Harry had left it. He couldn't believe it had only been a few hours. But one change caught his eye immediately; every hand on the Weasley family clock had moved, and it was this fact more than any other that finally convinced Harry. The spot for 'Mortal Peril' had disappeared completely, and now all the names crowded around the word Home.
Harry rushed into the sitting room. Molly had joined the healer there; she was gently brushing Ginny's hair but jumped up at the sight of Harry and Kreacher. Her gaze traveled back and forth between Harry and the house elf.
"Harry?" Molly asked. She dabbed at her eyes with a cloth she'd been holding. "What happened?" She pulled out her wand.
"I'm okay," Harry said quickly. He dropped to Ginny's side, momentarily surprised to see that she was unchanged from when he'd last seen her. With everything that had happened in the past hours, he realized he'd almost expected to see Ginny sitting up and waiting for him, a blazing smile on her face. He touched her cheek, thinking of his mum's confidence in him. "I'm okay," he said again. "It's all okay." It wasn't yet, not until Ginny was better, but Harry didn't want to take the time to explain. "We need Bill though," he said. He looked at the healer, who was wearing the robes of someone only newly qualified. "And the best healer at St. Mungo's - someone with expertise in serious curses."
Molly gave him a scared look, and Harry realized that she still believed Ginny's injuries were from Kreacher's knife. "Cursed?" she asked. "Who . . .? Never mind; you'll explain later." She nodded and looked at the young healer. "Can you get someone?"
By the time Bill and the senior healer had arrived - joined by Kingsley and several Aurors and Bill's colleague Tulip, Ron and Hermione and the rest of the Weasleys had amassed in the sitting room as well. Hermione gave Harry a curious look. "The clock . . .?" she asked quietly.
Harry nodded, unable to feel any sense of relief yet. "I'll explain after," he promised.
Without preamble, he held out his arm to Bill and the healer. "We need to make a new mixture of my blood and Ginny's," he said. pulling the Elder Wand out of his robes. "And we need to use this for the spell."
It was clear who in the room recognized what Harry was holding. There were murmurs from several corners and Bill gave a low whistle. "Who is going to do it?" he asked. "That's not a wand most people would be able to use." He looked at the senior healer, who was thinking hard.
"You and I should each take a turn, with time for her recovery in between," he said to Bill. "We should be able to wield it, although we should practice on something inanimate first." He looked at Harry. "You too; I suspect you know how to use that wand better than most."
Harry wasn't sure he agreed that he had the skill or knowledge to perform the healing spell on Ginny, but he couldn't refuse. He held out his arm again. "You need my blood first."
"Why do you need to give more blood, Harry? I thought you did already." Arthur had been watching silently, his arm around his wife. Now he leaned forward with concern.
Harry looked swiftly at Ron and Hermione. He wasn't ready to explain what had happened to anyone but his closest friends, and he didn't even want to tell them until after things with Ginny were stable.
Fortunately, Ron understood. "They'll be time for questions later," he said firmly to his father. "Let Harry take care of Ginny first."
Arthur opened his mouth as if to protest and then closed it again and nodded. He looked down at his daughter and took a deep breath. "Do what you need," he said.
Kreacher had been very quiet until now. He looked around the room, his eyes finally resting on Harry. "You need the same knife," he said, pulling the silver blade out of the pocket in the tea towel he wore. Across the room, Kingsley swore.
"How did you get that back?" he asked. "Isn't that the . . ." He stopped and looked over at Ginny.
"It has powerful magic," said Kreacher simply. "It's what you must use."
"Wait." One of the Aurors was frowning at the elf. "How do you know he's not still under the Imperius Curse?" He pulled out his wand. "How do we know that's even Harry Potter?" He looked like it wouldn't take must provocation for the man to start firing curses.
Ron came and stood beside Harry. "You're going to have to tell everyone at least something first," he said quietly. "Or do you want me to just hex them all? I could probably take out most of the room before they realized what's going on, but Kingsley might be tricky."
Harry gave Ron a grateful smile. "No hexing," he said. "At least, not yet." Ron was right anyway. As desperate as Harry was feeling to heal Ginny - and he now understood it was nothing in comparison to how her parents felt - everyone deserved an explanation first. He sat back down at Ginny's bedside and took her hand.
Harry kept the story as brief as possible, both because there were only a few he wanted to share everything with and also out of respect for Kreacher. He told the group that Kreacher had been fighting Voldemort for weeks, without mentioning that he'd actually been possessed, and that Harry had succeeded in ordering Kreacher to kill him, so to destroy the last Horcrux tethering Voldemort to life. Harry himself had been able to return because of the inter-connectedness of Harry and Ginny's blood, but he'd realized that that blood was tainted by Harry having given it while was still a Horcrux. He stopped talking then, and took the cup of water Molly handed him, drinking it slowly so he didn't have to look anyone in the eye or answer other questions. He knew the holes in his story were probably obvious to many in the room, but he couldn't go on. Memories of his parents were swirling in his head and Harry wanted to first person who heard that story to be Ginny. He held out his arm again.
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Two hours later, it was obvious that the healing spell using the new mixture of Harry and Ginny's blood was working. The senior healer had performed the first spell and then an hour later, Bill had done. Ginny's color and breathing had improved each time and she'd begun moving restlessly on the bed. Once, her eyes had opened and she'd stared fearfully around until they came to rest on Harry. A small smile played on her lips then and she'd calmed before closing her eyes again.
Now it was Harry's turn to do the spell. He was relieved that most of the people who'd been rotating in and out of the Burrow were elsewhere right now; only Bill and the healer and Ginny's parents were in the room when Harry gripped the Elder Wand and said the words to make the red mist settle over Ginny again.
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Ginny's dreams had been full of Harry, and so when she opened her eyes to see him peering anxiously down at her, she was confused. Moments ago, he'd been naked, hovering over her on shaking arms, and the look on his face had been quite different. Now he searched her face as if he wasn't quite sure what he was going to find, or maybe that what he was seeing was wrong.
"Harry," she said, and was shocked to hear the weak rasp of her voice. Something was wrong; Ginny was suddenly aware that her entire body felt like it was filled with sand. But inexplicably, Harry visibly relaxed when she said his name. He touched her cheek.
"Ginny," he said, the relief palpable in his tone. He didn't actually say you're okay, but Ginny could hear the intent. She turned her head.
"Where am I . . . the sitting room?" she asked, still dismayed that her voice was so weak. A man in healer's robes hovered over her.
"How do you feel, Miss Weasley?" he asked.
"I'm . . . I'm not sure," she said, struggling to sit up. It was disconcerting to have a conversation while lying flat on her back.
Harry slipped his arm under her back and raised her up while her mum hurried forward and put two pillows behind her to lean on. Now she knew something terrible had happened; her mother looked as if she hadn't slept in days and her father's face was tight and drawn. Ginny froze. Who else had died? But Harry was giving her a small smile and adjusting the pillows behind her before sitting back down and taking her hand. He was watching her carefully, and Ginny realized belatedly that whatever had happened must have happened to her. She tried to remember, but her brain felt fuzzy and the sitting up had made her dizzy. She closed her eyes.
"Ginny?" Harry sounded worried again and she forced herself to look at him.
"Sorry," she mumbled. "I got a little woozy."
"Do you want to lie back down?" Harry was already moving to grab the pillows. Ginny shook her head, determined to stay upright so she could see what was going on.
"I'm okay," she promised. Someone - Bill it turned out, handing her a cup of water and she drank gratefully, feeling her head clear a bit. When she spoke again, her voice was a little more steady.
"What happened?" she asked, looking at Harry.
His face was guarded. "What do you remember?"
Ginny had to stop and think. Harry's eyes were exhausted and he had stubble around his chin and jaw that hadn't been there the last time she'd seen him - on his birthday? "What day is it?" she asked.
Ginny saw Harry look at the healer and then Bill. They both nodded and he turned back to her. "August 4th," he admitted.
Ginny gave a start and then winced as the world tilted again. She closed her eyes. "I'm okay," she said again. "Just need a minute."
Harry's hand squeezed hers and she managed to squeeze back. "Your birthday," she said, keeping her eyes shut. She swallowed, the images coming back to her. "I was upset." Ginny couldn't quite remember why but she had the sense that it had been something important. She opened her eyes to see Harry looking at her with a familiar expression of guilt on his face. She reached up to touch his cheek. "You don't have to tell me right now," she said, meaning it.
"I know," Harry said quietly. "But I will . . . I just don't want to upset you more, while you're still . . ." He gestured at the bed and then looked at the healer. The man nodded.
"I will have to examine her again, of course, but for now I think Miss Weasley has made a remarkable recovery, and that she doesn't need my services for the time being." He smiled. "I'll just slip into the kitchen and have some of that delicious looking luncheon you put out, Molly."
"Yeah, you don't need me right now either." Bill leaned down and gave her forehead a kiss. "Fleur and I will be back later, okay?"
Ginny nodded. "Thanks, Bill. I love you." She wasn't sure what role her brother had played in events but she sensed it had been significant. He squeezed her shoulder.
"Love you too," he said.
And then her parents were both there and Ginny could tell her mum was trying not to cry, but in a good way. She hugged them both, holding on for longer than she might have otherwise. It felt like she'd been away from them for a long, long time. When they broke apart, she could see Harry watching, and the expression on his face was one Ginny didn't think she'd ever seen before. It was gone before she could try to understand, and then her parents hugged Harry and her dad clapped him on the back and they both said thank you, and Ginny felt dizzy again, trying to figure out what she'd forgotten.
The light in the room dimmed as Harry came and sat beside her again. "We can wait to talk until you're feeling stronger," he said. He brushed the hair off her face. "We have plenty of time; I don't want to rush you."
There was an odd timbre in his voice and Ginny looked at Harry carefully for a long moment. Some of the cobwebs cleared.
"We have time?" she whispered.
Harry nodded, and she could see the joy on his face even as he tried to stay solicitous of her health. "All the time in the world," he said.
Ginny tried to get her head around that. She wanted to think she understood what Harry was saying, but there were still gaps in her memory. She wrinkled her forehead in thought. She knew she could just ask Harry to tell her everything, and he would, but she wanted to get there herself. Finally she landed on the last moments she'd seen him on his birthday.
"You told me the only way to defeat Voldemort was to sacrifice yourself." Somehow Ginny knew it was okay to say the name again.
Harry nodded cautiously. "I did," he agreed. He gave a small grimace. "You didn't like that."
"Of course I didn't," she responded. "I thought we'd made it quite clear back in May that self-harm was not an option."
"It was not an option for you," said Harry gently. He took both of her hands in his. Ginny scooted over on the bed and after a moment, Harry sat down next to her. She leaned into his side and heard him give a tiny sigh.
"It got to the point where I didn't think there was any other choice." Harry spoke quietly but resolutely. "And I didn't want to prolong things for so long that he'd figure out a way to come back or that he'd be able to hurt the people I love." Harry's voice grew tortured. "And I was nearly too late; he almost managed to kill you anyway."
Ginny remembered then. She recalled finally knowing for sure Harry's plan and the moment she'd recognized in her gut that they'd exhausted all other possibilities. And then she'd run off instead of staying with him and confronting the horror together. She twisted her hands.
"It's my fault," she said. "If I'd been the person . . . the girlfriend you needed, I wouldn't have left you. I knew you had no choice, that you hadn't made the decision lightly and yet, I couldn't handle it." She twisted on the bed to look Harry in the face. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I'm sorry I couldn't stand hearing the truth even though I knew it had to be that way. I'm sorry I made it harder on you, and that I wasn't brave enough to stay and talk, and I'm sorry I put myself in so much danger that I suspect you had to come save me and I'm sorry . . . what are you doing?"
Harry stopped her rant by leaning in and giving her a soft kiss. When he pulled back, a small smirk played about his lips. "The irrational guilt is my thing, remember?" he said. He kissed her again. "All things considered, I think you handled the moment better than I deserved; I should have been talking about it with you all along." His eyes grew serious. "If I had been, you wouldn't have had to run off to Grimmauld Place.
Ginny gave a dramatic sigh. "Let's call the irrational guilt thing even," she said. "Okay?"
Harry nodded and stuck out his hand for her to shake. "Okay."
Ginny smiled and leaned back against the pillows. "You'd better tell me how you managed to defeat him then, given that we agree that there was absolutely no hope at all." She cocked her head at him. "You did defeat him, right?"
Harry nodded, and the smile he'd been trying to hold back grew wider. "I did."
This time it was Ginny who leaned in, and after giving him a kiss as gentle as the one he'd given her, put her hand on the back of his neck and pulled him closer. "Tell me," she said.
And Harry did, without leaving anything out. He began with his discovery of her lying bloody and nearly dead and Grimmauld Place, and Ginny told him how it had taken her too long realize that Kreacher's behavior was off. They talked about the blood wards and how she didn't get better and Harry's thought to use the Elder Wand. It was only when he described ordering Kreacher to kill him that Ginny had to stop him for a moment. She shook her head.
"I can't believe you were able to do that," she said. It was one thing to talk about it, or to know what Harry had to do, but when Ginny tried to imagine what it must have felt like for Harry to stand there in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place and order his house elf to kill him she couldn't. She traced the spot on his stomach where the curse had struck. "Three times," she said softly. "You've survived the killing curse three times. No one else has even survived one."
Harry shook his head. "One person has," he said, lightly touching the spot on her chest. Ginny shrugged. "It's not the same; Kreacher didn't mean to kill me."
Harry leaned down and replaced his hand with his lips, kissing along the edge of Ginny's pajama top. "I thought this wasn't a competition," he said. He undid a button. "And anyway, I haven't told you the good part."
Ginny shivered. "Does the good part involve you getting inside my pajamas in the sitting room when any of my family could walk in?"
Harry moved his lips to her neck. "That's later," he mumbled. He kissed up to her jaw before pulling away and turning to face her. "I talked to my parents."
"What?" Ginny knew that Harry had seen echoes of his mother and father when he'd fought Voldemort in the graveyard, but something in his voice made her know this was different. She sat up, all thoughts of Harry's lips and hands forgotten. "Where were you?"
"I think I was the same place I saw Dumbledore, the last time I died." Harry spoke with so much nonchalance that Ginny couldn't help but laugh. "I hope you aren't making it a regular visit," she said.
Harry shook his head. "I'm done with that place," he said. His voice grew a little shaky. "I got to hug my mum and dad."
And then Ginny understood the look she'd seen on Harry's face when he'd watched her with her parents. Something she took for granted he'd just gotten to do for the first - for the only - time. She bit the inside of her lip to keep the threatened tears in check; this was Harry's story, not hers. He noticed though, and wiped away the tear that escaped down her cheek. "I told them about you," he said softly. "I'm so glad I got to do that."
And then Ginny gave up and cried for real. Harry pulled her into his lap and she felt him shaking too, and brushing his hand down her back and through her hair while his breathing slowed. "They would have loved you," he finally said. "I'm sure of that, even though I only got to know them for a few minutes." He chuckled. "Sirius joked about the 'Potter men and their redheads."
Ginny pulled back and looked at him. "Sirius was there too?" She knew that in some ways, Harry's loss of his godfather hurt more than even that of his parents; or at least, that it was more raw, and that Harry still harbored guilt about it. But he looked only content as he nodded.
"Remus too. Not Tonks, but I guess that makes sense. I didn't know her nearly as well." He brushed the hair away from Ginny's face again. "I think my mum wanted to ask me a million questions. My dad would have liked to talk Quidditch all day." He smiled in reminiscence. "It would have been brilliant to be able to fly with him."
"That would have been amazing," she agreed. Ginny was glad to see that Harry wasn't feeling maudlin about seeing his parents. She didn't think he was hiding his feelings - the two of them were well past that sort of nonsense - but she knew the experience must have been jarring. He seemed to guess what she was thinking.
"It was a gift, to see them," he said. "And I didn't waste one second of it." He shifted Ginny in his lap and rested his cheek against her head. "All the time in the world wouldn't have been enough, but I knew it wasn't right for me to stay there. I felt that." Harry kissed her hair. "I knew what I wanted to come back for."
Ginny moved then, to find Harry's lips with hers, and they didn't talk for a long while after that.
Eventually the rest of the world intruded. They'd done not much more than kiss and touch softly over their clothes, but Ginny was exhausted by the time the healer tactfully sent his Patronus into the room to announce that he needed to conduct an examination. After that, Ginny was happy to see Ron and Hermione and the rest of her family and equally glad to let Harry answer all of their questions and make all the explanations. Kreacher went back to Grimmauld Place, likely to scrub the entire building from top to bottom, and when the sun was just starting to dip below the horizon Harry helped Ginny up to her room, where she'd been given clearance to finally sleep in her own bed. He insisted on staying there with her, on the camp bed Hermione usually used, and no one objected. Indeed, Hermione and Ron were rather blatantly delighted. Ginny didn't expect that she and Harry would do anything, and she was right. He kissed her gently and tucked her under her covers and although she'd wanted to stay awake to talk some more, she found herself unable to keep her eyes open.
"S-sorry," she yawned in Harrys' direction, sinking into her pillow.
He laughed softly and dimmed the lights further. "Good night, Ginny. I love you."
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Harry spent the first few days after Ginny woke up feeling incredulous at how quickly things had gone from absolutely horrible and bleak and hopeless to nearly perfect. It wasn't something he was able to wrap his head around, especially with Ginny still not back to her full strength. He could tell Ginny didn't want to admit how weak she still felt - getting out of bed to take her meals at the table, insisting on participating in meetings with Kingsley and the Aurors - but when she fell asleep in the middle of lunch she finally agreed to spend more time recovering on the sofa. That suited Harry just fine. After a year on the run and then months more of danger and failure, he was more than content to sit for hours holding Ginny's hand while she slept, letting his thoughts wander. When Ron brought him a Pensieve, Harry removed the memories of seeing his parents and watched them over again, first alone, and then with Ginny.
When they rose together out of the basin, still holding hands, Harry was filled with a sense of immense peace. He carefully tucked the vial with the memories into a soft padded box Hermione had made for him and then slipped it into his moleskin pouch before turning to Ginny.
"Someday, we'll be able to show our children who their Potter grandparents were," he said solemnly. Ginny didn't look at all surprised at Harry's pronouncement. She nodded in agreement.
"I'm glad for it," she said, leaning in to give him a kiss.
On August 8, while Ginny slept, Harry helped Molly plan her birthday celebration. She'd sent Ron and Hermione to the garden to renew the growth charms on the flowers and George and Percy had been joined by Lee and Angelina outside, where they were deep in discussion about proper decorations for Ickle Ginnkins' coming of age.
"I'm relived Percy's with them," she'd confided in Harry as he lay a blanket over her while she snuggled in on the sofa. "I'm counting on him to keep some of the more wild ideas in check."
"We'd probably need at least three of Percy then," he joked.
So it was just Harry and Molly in the kitchen, him listening while she prattled on about the various dishes she might prepare. He knew she didn't really need him to help plan the menu and so he wasn't surprised when she put down the family recipe cards she'd been consulting and gave him a watery look.
"It was harder for me than it should have been to let Ginny fight," she said. She began idly folding the napkins that were stacked on the table. "I didn't like the idea of any of my children putting themselves into danger, of course, but Ginny . . ." Molly shook her head. "It shouldn't have mattered that she was a girl, or the youngest, but it did." She frowned at the napkin - it was rather uneven - and pointed her wand at it instead.
Harry watched the cloth twist in the air until it fell back to the table in a neat little bundle that looked like a flower. Molly nodded in satisfaction before she spoke again.
"I felt better knowing that you were looking out for her." She picked up another napkin.
Harry spoke carefully. "She got into trouble because of me," he said. "Especially recently, but even before." He assumed this wasn't news to Molly but he didn't want to tell her too much about just how often Ginny had been hurt, or otherwise in peril, because she'd been with Harry.
Molly nodded. "And she lived because of you, too," she said simply. Then she shrugged. "She's a Weasley, and a Prewett, and we've always fought on the side of good. I wouldn't expect my daughter to be any different, whether she was in love with you or not. But because she is in love with you . . . and you with her, I always knew she was just a bit safer." Molly had finished folding the napkins and moved on to refilling the salt and pepper shakers. Harry tried to absorb what she was saying. It was the opposite of what he'd always thought about his relationship with Ginny. He'd broken up with her because it was the only way he knew to keep her safe. She'd marked herself as Voldemort's foe because of her love for Harry. He couldn't believe what her mother was telling him, that Ginny was better off because of him.
Harry shook his head. "I'm not sure . . ." he began.
Molly put her hand on top of his on the table. "Well, I am," she said briskly. "We lost Fred, and don't think I don't realize that any of my other children could have gone that way just as quickly." She picked up one of the folded napkins and wiped her eyes. When she spoke again, her voice was fierce. "There are at least a half-dozen times I can think of - and probably more I don't know - that Ginny could have died but she didn't. And maybe some of it was luck, and i know some of it was her skill, but I also know that a lot of it was because of you. Not only because you protected her, but because you made her less reckless."
Harry bowed his head, overwhelmed at the show of gratitude. His first instinct was to continue to protest, but then he heard Ginny's voice quite clearly in his head, telling him that they both had to give up their irrational guilt over putting the other in danger. He supposed that went for the rest of the Weasleys too. He grabbed one of the napkins for himself.
"Sorry," he muttered as it unfolded. "I'll fix it."
Molly laughed. "Leave the decorating to me," Harry. "Your job is to go be with my daughter; I think she's awake."
He nodded, but before getting up from the table he stopped. "I got to see my parents," he said quietly. "When I was . . . gone." He took a deep breath. "I told them about Ginny, and I told Ginny I wished she could have had the chance to meet them." He looked at Molly and gave her a small smile. "I wish they could have met you too, and Arthur. I know how grateful they would be." Harry couldn't say any more; he was rarely so open with anyone besides Ginny.
Molly stopped her folding. "I'm grateful to them," she said softly. "I didn't know them, but I heard plenty." She looked Harry in the eye. "You are the very best of Lily and James, Harry, and that's a very good thing to be."
There wasn't anything else to say after that. Molly shoo'ed Harry out of the kitchen and begin fixing the napkins again. He gave her one final smile before going into the sitting room.
Ginny was awake; Harry was pleased to realize that her need for rest was getting less and less, and after she'd had something to eat they took a walk to the garden. "I think your mum wants us all out here to help de-gnome later," he said. "They've gotten really bad."
"They had a long time to themselves with no one bother them," said Ginny. She was skipping a little when she walked; a sure sign she was feeling better. "It's going to be a surprise when we all show up."
"Hopefully I can manage to escape unscathed this time," said Harry. He held up his thumb. "I still have the scar from where one bit me."
Ginny laughed. "The irony of you complaining about a gnome bite scar," she said, touching him lightly on the chest.
Harry shrugged. "It's nice to have something so mundane to think about," he admitted. He stopped suddenly. "That really is my biggest worry right now," he said, realization hitting him. He shook his head. "All these last months I kept thinking about it - what we'd be doing if Dumbledore's original plan had worked as he'd wanted. He turned to face Ginny. "It feels even better than I imagined and I'm not even used to the idea yet."
She put her arms around him. "I'd like to help you get used to the idea."
Harry looked down at her. Four days of rest and her mum's cooking had Ginny looking close to normal again. Her eyes were bright with mischief and when she pressed her body against his, Harry felt himself react. She noticed, of course, and her grin widened. "I think I know one other thing you have to worry about," she said with a smirk.
Harry pushed himself against her. "Not so much a worry as a challenge," he said. He thought for a minute. "Would it be odd to go to . . . I mean, we can figure out somewhere else," he said quickly. "But . . ."
"We should go to Grimmauld Place." Ginny finished his thought.
Harry tilted her head up and looked at her carefully. "Are you sure?"
Ginny nodded resolutely. "We have to go back at some point," she said. "Best to get it over with." Her voice grew a little coy. "Especially for something as important as multiple orgasms." There was no hiding the eagerness in her voice.
Harry didn't hesitate. "Race you to the Apparition point," he said.
HPHPHPHP
Despite Ginny's certainty, Harry knew that arriving at Grimmauld Place was a little odd for them both. He'd taken her side-along, and they balanced together on the top step for a long moment before Harry unlocked the door and carefully walked inside. Ginny followed hesitantly, and once the door was closed behind them, looked around, taking a slow, deep breath. Harry watched cautiously, ready to whisk them both out of there at the first sign of real distress.
"I'm okay," she said, making a show of looking all around. When Harry raised his eyebrows she held up her hands. "I promise," she said. "It felt a little weird for a minute but I'm already feeling better. She took in a deep breath. "It actually smells good," she said. "Like Kreacher baked something."
"That's because I did, Miss Weasley."
Harry jumped at the voice and Ginny shuddered next to him. He masked it quickly. "Kreacher," he said, turning to look at the elf. "I'm glad you're here." Harry was glad, sort of. Having Kreacher back to his usual self and activities helped banish some of the eeriness of being back at Grimmauld Place. The house elf had a bit of flour on his nose and a stain that looked like chocolate on his tea towel. Harry inhaled. "Smells delicious," he said. At the same time, Harry hoped that whatever Kreacher was baking would keep him either tied up in the kitchen for a while, or, better yet, off to the stores for more ingredients. "Umm, do you have a lot more to do?" Next to him, Ginny giggled.
Kreacher shook his head. "No Master Harry, I just took the buns out of the oven. Your timing is perfect. You and Miss Weasley can come down to the kitchen and have some while they are still warm." He snapped his fingers and a bucket and feather duster appeared at his feet. "I'll just be upstairs cleaning; I haven't dusted your bedroom since yesterday, or your bathroom since this morning." He picked up his supplies. "I'm airing out all the beds right now." Kreacher turned towards the stairs, humming to himself.
Next to Harry, Ginny made a small sound that was half giggle and half sigh. He supposed they could figure somewhere else to go to be alone, but his mind was blank at the moment, still focused on the image he'd been holding of Ginny lying naked on top of the wide, soft bed he knew was just above where they stood now.
"Uhh, Kreacher?" he said quickly.
Kreacher turned around. "Yes, Master Harry? Would you like me to start with the windows in your room instead? I haven't cleaned them since last night."
"I'm sure they still look great," Harry said. "Actually, I'd prefer if you'd, umm, just make up the bed in the master bedroom. As quickly as possible."
Kreacher frowned. "But the mattress has only been airing for three hours," he said. "It really needs another five or six." He peered closer at Harry. "Are you feeling okay, Master Harry? Do you need to lie down?"
"I'm feeling well, Kreacher, thank you," said Harry carefully, well aware that if he suggested otherwise the elf would probably want to play nursemaid. "I'm just tired. All the excitement of the last week, you know. And there are a lot of people at the Burrow. I thought this might be a nice place to have a kip." He gave a tiny shrug. "And Ginny too," he added casually.
Kreacher nodded knowingly. "Of course, Master Harry," he said. "You'd be wanting a quiet place to close your eyes. And Miss Weasley too." He put dow his bucket. "I'll go make up the beds now, then. The one in the master bedroom and I think Master Sirius' room has aired out the longest. Miss Weasley will be quite comfortable there."
"Just the master is fine, Kreacher," said Harry firmly.
"But there is only one bed in there," said Kreacher. His eyes grew wide. "Are you and Miss Weasley planning to share?" He shook his head. "It's no trouble. I'll get both rooms ready."
Harry didn't know if Kreacher was really shocked or if he was putting on an act to voice his disapproval but at the moment, he really didn't care. With Ginny shaking with silent laughter next to him, all Harry really wanted was to feel that shaking while they were lying together on the bed that Kreacher had yet to make up. He threw up his hands. "Fine," he said. "Make them all up if you want, but we're only using one" Inspiration struck. "And then I'd like you to go to Andromeda's house and see if she needs any help with Teddy." Despite the fact that Andromeda had once been formally excommunicated from the Black family, Kreacher's change of attitude included the way he treated her and Teddy as well. Now the elf bowed deeply.
"It would be my pleasure," he said formally.
Ten minutes later Harry and Ginny were finally, thankfully, alone upstairs in the master bedroom. Ginny tugged insistently at the spread covering the bed before it finally came loose, laughing as the sudden loss of tension nearly knocked her off her feet. Harry came up behind and caught her at the last moment, and then didn't put her down, holding her against him and running his hands down her front.
"Looks like Kreacher was doing everything he could to keep us out of the bed," she said breathlessly. She leaned back into Harry and sighed.
"It wouldn't have mattered; I would have been with you on the bare mattress if I had to," said Harry roughly. He reached down and grabbed the bottom of Ginny's shirt to pull it over her head. She bent over to push off her shorts, pushing her bum against his erection as she did so. Harry groaned and grabbed her hips.
"You did that on purpose, right?" he asked. He slipped his hands into the front of her knickers.
"I hope so," Ginny said. She was still facing away from him and when she stood up she dropped her head back onto his shoulder. Harry teased her with his fingers and she immediately started writhing against him. "I'm not going to last long," she mumbled.
"I thought that's usually my line," Harry joked. He took his hands out of Ginny's knickers and suddenly scooped her up in his arms to carry her over to the bed. She crawled up to get under the covers while Harry pulled off his own clothes, too impatient to wait for Ginny to do it for him. There was a time and place for slow seduction but this wasn't it, a fact he knew Ginny agreed with when she reached under the blankets and wiggled for a minute before tossing her knickers on the floor.
It struck Harry then that what he'd told her the day she'd woken up was really true; they had all the time in the world, and nothing that they needed distracting from. He could spend hours getting to know Ginny's body and if they didn't show up for dinner, no one would worry about what might have happened. They could enjoy as much foreplay as they wanted. And yet . . .
Ginny was looking at him expectantly, her expression as needing as he imaged his was. Before Harry could move to get under the covers with her, Ginny sat up and pulled him onto the bed. He fell awkwardly, face landing in her lap, and she made a sound of apology.
"Oops, I didn't mean to do that," she said, as Harry sat up and made a show of rubbing his nose. He smirked.
"You meant to do it without the blanket covering all your important bits, right?" Without waiting for an answer, Harry pulled off said blanket and covered Ginny's body with his. She sighed and then thrust as his erection found the space between her legs.
The mood between them slowly changed. It slowed and quieted but became no less intense as the joking stopped and Harry bent his head towards Ginny. She spread her legs open and Harry immediately moved in that direction, tasting and teasing with his lips and tongue until Ginny cried out his name. He rested his head on the inside of her thigh while her breathing slowed, enjoying the fact of denying himself what he really wanted to do.
"I told you I wouldn't last long." Ginny's voice was content but not languid; she wasn't nearly done. Harry looked up at her. "You aren't done, are you?" he confirmed.
"Not even close," Ginny agreed. "Please make me climax again."
"Only if I get to have one myself this time," said Harry. He raised himself on his arms until they were face to face again. "I'm about to explode here."
Ginny slipped her hand down between them. "I can feel that," she said cheekily. Without taking her hand off, she guided him inside.
Harry let out a grunt of pleasure. "Now I'm the one who won't last long," he said. "Not this time." He began to rock.
"Let yourself go, love," Ginny said softly. She pulled his head down to kiss him. "We can take our time later."
Harry was up on his arms as he thrust, and reached down to fondle Ginny's clit. "I haven't even had a chance at your breasts," he agreed.
She arched towards him. "You can wash them in the shower," she promised. "Right now, please just keep doing . . . fuck . . . keep doing that.
Hearing Ginny swear pushed Harry up to the edge. He froze, fully inside her, trying to draw out the sensation, but it was no use. Ginny grasped his bum and held her against him and Harry groaned out his climax, still moving his fingers on Ginny until she tightened her legs around him. Harry collapsed on top of her. It had been fast, but the speed was born of their want, not because they'd been carving out precious minutes, not knowing if they'd get the chance again.
"Am I heavy?" Harry mumbled against her neck. "I can move."
In response, Ginny tightened her hands on his backside. "Don't you dare," she warned him. "I love the feeling of you still inside me, after."
Harry loved it too. Like with their choice to make love quickly, being able to lie tangled together just because they wanted to was an indulgence he wanted to learn to get used to. He thought of something Ginny had said earlier. "You want to take a shower here later?" he asked sleepily.
"Ummhmm," she agreed. "Since Kreacher's apparently scrubbed the bathroom a dozen times in the past day."
"Still isn't enough," chuckled Harry. He propped himself up on his forearms. "Making love to you a dozen times isn't enough either."
"In one day?" Ginny raised her eyebrows.
Harry pulled out and rolled onto his side, pulling Ginny close. "Maybe it would take two at first," he amended. "But we can work up to it." He looked at her, suddenly concerned. "Are okay now, though?" he asked. "Was that all too tiring for you? I don't want your mum to accuse me of impeding your recovery or anything."
"I think you just helped my recovery immensely, Harry," said Ginny with a laugh. "I'll have to tell the healer that."
"A prescription for sex," Harry said thoughtfully. "You might be onto something." He got out of bed. "I need the loo, be right back," he said. It was rather nice having it attached to the bedroom, no need to put on any clothing. He could feel Ginny's eyes on him as he walked across the room and felt himself twitch. He subtly adjusted himself and heard Ginny chuckle behind him. Apparently he wasn't subtle as he'd thought.
"Ready to go again, Potter?" she asked lazily. Harry twitched more intensely.
"I am, are you, Weasley?" he called over his shoulder.
"I'll be waiting right here," she promised.
Harry hurried in the loo, not feeling sleepy at all anymore. He was washing his hands when he heard Ginny yelp in surprise. He rushed out of the bathroom - cursing himself for not bringing his wand - and stopped short.
Lined up in front of the bed were a number of shining Patronuses, seemingly waiting quietly for something. He saw Ron's terrier, Hermione's otter, Arthur's weasel, and even George's monkey. Ginny was staring at them and then looked at Harry with wide eyes. "They can't see us, can they?"
"I certainly hope not," Harry muttered. He skittered around the bear on the end - Molly's Patronus - and dove under the covers next to Ginny. His arrival seemed to be what the figures were waiting for, for they all looked to the silvery figure in the middle, which, Harry realized with a sinking feeling, was Bill's cheetah. It nuzzled the peacock standing next to it before speaking.
"Hope you're enjoying yourselves, Harry and Ginny. " The cheetah spoke deliberately - and rather suggestively - to each of them. Harry's stomach dropped. "Mum just wanted you to know that dinner will be ready in an hour, and that she expects you both at the Burrow before then. Hopefully you'll have worked up quite an appetite." The cheetah very nearly leered at them and Harry peered closer.
"That's not Ron's terrier," he said suddenly. "Its ears are too long."
"And that is not my father's Patronus either," said Ginny. "Or my mum's." She looked back and forth. "Only . . . George's looks right." She shook her head. "Wanker," she muttered.
Harry let out a sigh of relief and picked up his wand. "Back where you all came then," he said, shooting sparks at the silvery figures and watching them dissolve. Ginny crawled into his lap. "We need to think of a way to get him back," she said.
Harry was suddenly much less interested in getting revenge and much more interested in all the places Ginnys' skin was touching his. He started moving his hands over some of those places, pleased when she shivered.
"Later," he said, leaning down to kiss her. "If there is any truth that we are really expected back for dinner in less than an hour, I need to focus."
Ginny sighed happily. "I'm willing to be late."
A/N: So, this is the last proper chapter. I was going to send them back to the Burrow and show Ginny's birthday and all that, but I don't think I really need to. I suspect I'll write an epilogue or two though; I don't think I'm quite finished with this particular Harry and Ginny. But and the end, I'm very pleased with how everything turned out, and also that I was able to take a hiatus on this story and yet still come back and finish the way I wanted. I have two other longish story plans in the works, and a couple of one-shots and random chapters of things I want to write, but I suspect I'll need a bit of a break first. Take care, everyone!