"You're better than Evangeline."

"Ron!" Ginny hissed. "Stop it."

"Well, it's true. I don't know why you're not starting over her."

Ginny paused in her walk to the weight room and looked down the hallway, grateful that she had been coming in to the practice facility early this week. Per Aurors' orders. Ron or Harry, whoever was on detail that day, needed to enter every room before her, perform numerous charms to discover any threats, and overall be a nuisance to her work. That part she wasn't grateful for.

"I need you to not talk about this—someone might hear you."

"So?" Ron said. "What does it matter what someone thinks—especially family? Of course I'm gonna say you're better."

"Thanks Ron," Ginny rolled her eyes. "But if I were better than a teammate, and not starting—it's because of the politics of it all."

Ron frowned. "What, she's got dirt on Gwenog or something?"

"No. More like that she's been in the league for four years to my four months, and the locker room might be slow to accept someone who hasn't 'paid her dues'."

Ron scoffed. "That's stupid. Play whoever helps the team win."

Ginny shrugged. "If my team is more worried about my inexperience than learning to play with me, then I'm not the one who helps the team win."

"That's some circular reasoning right there," Ron said.

"Regardless," Ginny sighed. "You talking about this will only make the team more hesitant to accept me and slow my move into the starting line-up."

Ron was silent for a moment after that, and they moved into the weight room. He did a quick sweep of the area and found nothing amiss. Ginny began her stretches.

"Does Harry stay in here with you like I do?" Ron asked after a couple of minutes.

Ginny thought she might have been a little too quick to cut off his previous conversation topic.

"Yeah, why?" she asked casually.

Ron didn't answer immediately.

"Why, Ron?"

"You're going to yell at me if I tell you."

Ginny stood straight and looked at her brother. Somehow he wore an amused and nervous expression all at once. "Ron," she prompted.

"It's just...your exercise clothes are quite revealing, Ginny."

She rolled her eyes and turned away from him to resume her stretches. And to hide a blush.

"And he's a guy! I just don't want you to be uncomfortable, that's all."

"How honorable of you," Ginny said, keeping her voice even and sarcastic.

Ron was right. Normally she'd yell at him. After all, it shouldn't be her responsibility to keep men from being gross animals incapable of controlling their hormones.

But the truth of the matter is that just yesterday, Harry couldn't stop staring at her ass while she stretched, and when she playfully called him out on it, all that had led to was him laying her down on the mat and fucking her silly. So...Ron wasn't necessarily wrong. He just didn't know that she was more than happy about it.

"Harry is perfectly capable of being a professional," Ginny said instead of telling Ron this information. And that much was true. Ginny was one hundred percent confident that if she asked Harry, he'd be able to control himself. But why would she ask him to do that?

"I know," Ron sighed. "Truth be told, I'm kind of surprised he's still...Harry."

Ginny frowned and turned back to him. "What does that mean?"

"Most of the time when we get a case like this that doesn't immediately move forward, Harry becomes..." Ron trailed off, searching for the right words. "Hyper-focused. Intense. Like nothing else matters. He stops cooking, he doesn't eat much. I started having to do the cleaning in the apartment."

"Which means no cleaning got done," Ginny joked, though this news was somewhat startling. She hadn't noticed a change in Harry.

Ron threw Ginny a good-natured glare before smiling at her. "Maybe it's you," he said, an eyebrow lifted.

"Me?" Ginny hesitated.

He studied her for a moment. "He's been really happy lately," Ron said slowly, then shrugged. "I don't see him much now we've been separated for this case, but it's clear he's getting along well with you."

Ginny nodded, unable to stop the smile from coming to her face. "He's been a lot of fun since he loosened up," she admitted. And she truthfully didn't just mean the sex—as fun as that was. She grabbed a pair of boxing gloves. "I don't know how I'd be helping him though. Be my catcher?"

Ron sighed and nodded. He awkwardly put on the target mitts, and walked over to Ginny. He wasn't nearly as good at this as Harry, who had apparently boxed quite a bit with Sirius growing up. Never hurts to learn a different fighting style, Harry had said in a voice that made her think he was quoting Sirius.

"Maybe it's that he's not living with his partner anymore," Ron suggested, resuming their conversation. Ginny couldn't help but think he words were calculated. He lifted his hands up. "It was easier to bring work home with him back then."

Ginny didn't point out that she was technically his work right now. "That could be it," she huffed out, as she swung her gloved fists at Ron's upheld hands. Left, right. One, two. Left hook, right hook. She moved her feet in the way Harry had taught her—the way her personal trainer hadn't known was important to fighting. Harry had also been sure to grab her by the waist when he'd shown her the movement. A pleasant heat had settled in her at the touch that she'd forced herself to ignore.

"Or maybe you just offer him something I can't," Ron said, and his eyes were definitely watching as she hesitated in her left hook at his words. She blushed, and hoped she could pass of the redness in her face to the exertion of exercise. She started punching a little bit harder.

"Like a flat mate who does some cleaning before Harry loses himself in work?" Ginny joked as struck his hand especially hard. He didn't take the blow smoothly, and stepped back to shake out his hand. He looked at her hard, and Ginny knew it wasn't about the pain she'd just caused him.

He knows, Ginny thought.

"I think he might like you, Ginny."

Ginny sighed in relief. "Don't be stupid."

"Just...don't break his heart, okay?"

Ginny dropped her hands, even though she still had at least fifteen minutes more to go. "Why would you even say that? Because we get along, he likes me? And why are you assuming I'd break his heart?"

It all came out of her mouth before she could really weigh her words, but she couldn't help the clenching in her stomach translating to a lot of words coming out of her mouth.

"He's...look, Ginny," Ron groaned. "You know he has been an Auror for two years and hasn't taken a single vacation day? Not a single sick day? Before I joined him, work was his life. And even after I moved in with him...look, It's no secret what his past is, okay? He didn't go to Hogwarts like us. He hasn't had many relationships. And the ones I saw weren't healthy or full, either."

Ginny froze. Was she...was she taking advantage of Harry?

"Maybe he doesn't like you in that way, okay? Maybe he just smiles a lot around you because you're funny and likeable. And maybe it's unfair to make you the responsible one here. I just really like him and I want to make sure he doesn't get hurt."

They were silent for some time after that, even as she resumed her punches. Ginny hardly registered the burn as she went through her routine. She thought of her time with Harry. She retraced every interaction she could think of, and the more she thought, the less she knew. How much of these smiles Ron mentioned were from the incredible sex they'd been having? How capable was he of a real relationship, and was she only further damaging him by enabling this physical one? Or was she not giving Harry enough credit for his emotional state by second-guessing his decision for their arrangement?

She wanted to just say "they were both adults" and continue as they were. That also felt very selfish. But the idea of talking to Harry about this was terrifying. What if she insulted him, and it ruined everything? What if she let too much of her own feelings known and it scared him off? She supposed that would be better than those feelings deepening and then blowing up at a later time.

She was grateful an hour later when the rest of her team arrived, and Ron faded into the background. Protecting and watching from afar. A quiet observer. She only wished he'd been quiet earlier.

Despite Ron's words of confidence, Ginny did not behave like the deserving starter during practice that day. Whenever there was a lull in activities or intensity, her mind would drift back to Harry. She thought of their arrangement, and the hurried manner that it got started. It was obvious from how quickly it had escalated that Harry'd been thinking about her in that context as long as she'd been thinking about him.

Was that truly all it was for him? If it was, was she hurting him by continuing it?

She had gotten no answers by the end of the day. She'd only gotten yelled at by Gwenog for a lack of focus, a headache from these questions with no answers, and a curious gaze from Ron for most of the day. She figured her contemplative nature was a bit different from what he normally saw when she was playing quidditch.

She took an extra long shower, and expected to see Harry making dinner when she got home. He wasn't, so she got started on it. They'd planned to have potato soup. She didn't like cooking without Harry, but she did like the idea of having food ready for him when he had to work late like today.

So she got started chopping potatoes the way he'd taught her to. And thought some more.

Being back home—when had she started thinking of this apartment as home?—didn't give her immediate answers, but it did change the nature of her thoughts. In this apartment, it was hard to truly wonder if she was hurting Harry. Being in this kitchen, where they'd playfully danced around their sexual tension before giving in to it so completely, it was difficult to think she was taking advantage of him. Looking across the apartment to the couch where he'd hugged her for the first time, Ginny didn't think Harry was too emotionally stunted to know what he was doing with her.

She hummed. He'd bent her over the arm of that same couch two nights ago, and Ginny had been sure he was about to take her from behind. She'd never done that before. Instead, he'd dropped to his knees and licked into her. Her stomach twisted pleasantly at the memory, remembering how it felt different from behind. His tongue moved the opposite direction over her clit and inside of her.

She grew wet thinking about it, wishing that he'd stood up and entered her from behind. Instead, after her first climax, Harry had taken her to his bed. She normally might have given him a hard time for carrying her, bridal style, to his bedroom. But she'd been so sated at the time, all she could do was smile at how quickly he moved down the hallway. And if she thought she'd been taken care of to that point, it was nothing like how she felt when he was done with her in bed.

No. These weren't the actions of a man with an unhealthy need for sex and lack of emotional security. In fact, the only thing this proved was that Harry didn't quite know how friends with benefits were supposed to work. He was far too doting. Far too...adoring. But she would never complain about that. Even if it confused her. Even if every once in a while, she let herself hope a little too much.

She dumped all the ingredients into a pot and shook her head, quite amazed at how sidetracked she became with thoughts of him. She considered being frustrated with herself. Instead, she decided to think of the hand job she'd given him the next morning when he'd woken up hard against her thigh, and the way he shut his eyes tight when he was close.

-0-0-0-

Harry smiled. Finally a break in the case.

Even though they'd gotten the permit Monday, the investigation was slowed by Ron and him being separated on Harpies protection duty. And even though that let him spend additional time with Ginny, it did slow their progress in the PEP case.

Harry didn't think he would give it up though, given the choice. He wondered if that made him a bad Auror. If he should refocus and change his priorities. Maybe, if not for his time with Ginny, he'd have found this secret potions lab a little sooner.

Harry stepped carefully into the room. He'd already sent for a couple other DMLE teams, but Harry liked to have the first eyes on new evidence. It wasn't that he didn't trust people. It's that he didn't trust all people. And it only took one bad Hippogriff to spoil the herd.

His gut instinct during their tour of the facilities had been right. And now that he had a warrant to search without one of the Vanes peering over his shoulder, Harry had sufficient time to inspect the rehabilitation room. The potions lab was hidden well—scarily well. Harry had to use the same ancient detection charms that he and Dumbledore had used in the old Gaunt home in order to locate the lab. And then opening it had taken some extra-legal means that included sneaking into Dopinder Vane's office, finding some of his hair, and casting some complex magic that he'd only recently heard of through studying some of Robard's old cases.

The potions lab was clean. Harry suspected they'd done some deep cleaning as soon as it became clear Harry and Ron would secure their permits. The lab's presence was circumstantial evidence, but Harry was confident they would find things.

Besides, the lab's very presence would give them a new direction to take the case.

Harry had a few minutes with the lab before forensics arrived to take samples. They were still processing Harry's and Ron's latest samples, so Harry knew he was at least a week out on these results. But that couldn't ruin his good mood. This was exactly the direction they'd needed.

When Harry arrived home later that evening, his good mood brightened even further. Ginny was in the kitchen. In front of the stove, stirring a pot. His eyes ran up her body as he crossed the apartment to her—dressed in tight-fitting leggings and tanktop, with her hair up. She'd showered recently, he knew before he even came up behind her and sniffed her neck.

He set his hands on her waist, and pressed against her. "Hey, Gin," he whispered.

She leaned back into him, and her hand stopped stirring the soup in the pot in front of her. "Somebody's happy," she said airily.

He wasn't yet hard against her backside, so Harry knew she meant it earnestly. "Got a break in the case earlier," he told her, and they started swaying together. "Nothing big, but finally some direction."

"And you thought you'd come home...and celebrate." She rubbed against him, and that got the blood pumping.

"I'd like to," he admitted. "If you're up for it."

She reached forward to turn the heat on the stove down to low. Then she grabbed his hand at her waist and moved it to her stomach. Harry sighed and dipped his fingers under the waistband of her pants.

"Merlin, Ginny," he gasped. She was slick. How was she wet already?

"Been a weird day," she admitted, and groaned when he slid his fingers over her. "Was thinking about...things."

"Things?" Harry grinned and pressed a finger inside of her.

She didn't respond immediately. Harry wasn't sure if it was from his touch or she was thinking about her words. After a few moments—in which he began to rub against her backside—she spoke at last. "Thoughts that ultimately led to what you were doing to me last night."

Harry grinned. Over the couch or on his bed, he wondered? He'd had her on his bed while he stood at its foot. Her thighs and legs to his stomach and chest, he'd really gone for it. She was crying for it, after all. "And you liked it like that?" he asked, voice low. "Hard?"

"Mmhmm," she said, rolling her hips in time with his fingers. He was completely hard now, and Harry had not taken her from behind like this yet, though it had been a near thing last night. A sick thrill ran through him at the thought. He'd never done this with anyone. His previous relationships hadn't lasted long at all, and when the thought had crossed his mind, it felt wrong. Like he wasn't treating her right and it was all for him.

But with Ginny...well, he knew Ginny. And he knew this could be about her just as much as him.

He peeled her pants down, and as if reading his thoughts, Ginny shifted position and leaned forward against the counter. Harry shivered. He reached forward and massaged her arse. He loved the feel of her in his hands like this. Merlin she was perfect, every bit of her. He ran hands up her back, under her shirt as high as the fabric would allow.

"Harry," she groaned. "Please, just get on with it."

Harry pulled his pants down. "Eager tonight?" he asked with a smirk.

"Like I said, it's been a weird—" she gasped. Fuck, this was incredible.

She was slick, and he pressed into her until his skin slapped against hers, and they both froze.

Harry wasn't sure how it felt so good every time. No matter what they did. Tried and true, or something new, his time with Ginny was always euphoric. He pulled out of her, looking down and shaking his head in amazement. He gripped her hips, and held on for dear life. He jerked forward, and she gasped. Her hand slipped and they fell forward. He eyed the soup cautiously.

He leaned into her back. "Alright?" he whispered into her ear, worried that he hadn't eased into this at all. He wondered if this was new for her, too.

But she nodded short, quick, nods. "Merlin, yes."

So he leaned back into standing position and thrust into her again. And again. And if only there was a way for him to do this and look into her eyes at the same time because then it would unequivocally be his favorite position to date. Not only was his control of pace perfect to maximize his own pleasure, he found he could easily reach around her and rub just the way he'd learned she liked it.

"Fuck, Harry!" she called out, and leaned back with him. It made his thrusts shallower, but her head on his shoulder and hand wound up behind his neck was doing incredible things to him. She scratched at his nape, and Harry released her hip and grabbed at her breast.

He felt animalistic in a way he hadn't to this point. His breaths came out sharp, and Ginny tilted her head to catch his mouth in a sloppy kiss. It was all teeth and she brought her hand on top of his and ground his palm into her clit. Harry got the picture, and with each awkward thrust into her, he pressed harder.

It was a side of Ginny he hadn't seen either. And it was unsurprising that he would adore this raw version of her, too. He already couldn't wait to do this all again, but take the time to take off all of their clothes. He wanted as much access to her skin and body as possible. He was half-tempted to rip off her clothes right here and now. Instead, he worked with what he had, and as their pleasure grew he could sense it in her breathing how close she was, and that made him close.

She tightened around him and cried out, and the pleasure was so great, he released inside of her within a few seconds. And they stumbled forward once more, Ginny's hand slipping on the counter and right into the side of the pot.

Caring not for their combined ecstasy and distraction, the pot slid off the hob, tipped over, and potato soup went pouring out onto the stove top, the counter, and onto the floor. "Shit!" Ginny called out as the pair awkwardly separated and jumped back from the counter to avoid being burned by the soup.

Harry was able to get to his wand first, and simply vanished the meal entirely. He and Ginny panted for a short moment, somehow still feeling the exhilaration from their sex and the spilled soup all at once. Then they looked at each other, both with their pants still down and staring sadly at the stove top, before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

"Harry," Ginny managed to say through fits of glee as they both clothed themselves again. "If you didn't want my potato sex, you didn't need to do all of this to get rid of it."

"Potato sex?" Harry laughed harder, catching her blunder long before she did.

"Soup!" she shouted. "You know I meant soup."

"I suppose we could try potato sex next time," he said, flexing his arm to shield himself when she hit his shoulder. "Though I'm not sure what that would entail."

She glared at him, but she was still fighting off laughter of her own. "I'm sure we could figure something out."

Their laughter slowly died, and Harry took a deep breath. "Whew. Well...that was—was that good?"

"Aside from the soup part?" She asked wryly.

"Aside from the soup part."

She smiled shyly. "It was good."

"Good. Want to go out for dinner, then?"

She hesitated with a furrowed brow, and it made Harry cringe. Did she think he was asking her out? He hadn't even thought about it. But clearly, in her hesitation, that was her worry.

"I figure you owe me," Harry joked, trying to diffuse the situation before it turned into anything. "After all, I made you come so hard you ruined dinner."

She glared again. "Okay, smart guy. For that comment, you're buying."

He agreed, simply relieved he was able to avoid her questioning him about his motives. He'd love to take her out, of course, but once again it was clear she didn't. He'd have to be more careful in the future.