"Nine hundred degrees?" Harry asked, incredulous.

Vanessa Herbins shrugged. "I'm not sure what else to tell you, Potter."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, waving her off good-naturedly. Herbins was great at her job, and she knew it. She'd been doing her job for the better part of two decades, and she didn't like that Harry questioned her results all the time. 'Questioned' was the wrong word for it, anyway. "You have any ideas what kinds of potions need to get that hot?"

Herbins shrugged again, and looked down at her notes. She'd done some great work in the lab Harry'd found, and was able to isolate some potion ingredient sources and discover from the cauldron what it's highest temperature had been.

"I can say with certainty that none of the known Performance Enhancing Potions on this list you gave me needed a cauldron that hot. That's not to say this cauldron wasn't used for these potions—it just means that it was used for something else."

"And the ingredients?" Harry said, looking over the list. A couple of them caught his eye.

"Leeches, Bicorn horn," she mumbled. "Definitely a part of a number of these PEPs."

Harry saw her hesitate. "But," he said. "Dragon bone, ghost slag?"

She nodded, looking up at Harry. "Necromancy."

Harry shivered, and tried to fight off images of the graveyard. "How much do you know about it?"

"You know it's forbidden magic," she growled.

"And you work in Law Enforcement," Harry replied dryly. "It's our job to know about this."

She scrawled on a piece of parchment. "Take this to the Department of Mysteries," she said. "It's been a decade since my last Necromancy case, and I'll need a refresher."

"I'm your gofer now?"

"No," Herbins said with a smirk. "I just know that you'll want to steal it before I'm done reading, so I thought I'd save us both the headache and let you have it first."

"Fair enough," Harry grinned, and bounded off to the Department of Mysteries.

Harry lost track of time. He supposed it started when he came across the concoction that he had taken part in before.

Bone of the father.

Flesh of a servant.

Blood of a foe.

But that didn't match, thank Merlin. Temperatures needed only be moderate for that hell to be created, and there was no ghost slag involved.

Unfortunately, many potions here did contain the ingredients they'd found traces of, as Harry had expected. He tried to do a large overview of the book, and knew he'd have to return to the Department of Mysteries for more resources. He'd need a deep-dive into what exactly a 'willing vessel' was, and then he'd have to look into what exactly dragon bones could do to a potion. And then—

"Harry!"

Harry startled, and looked up to find Ron in the office. "Fuck, Ron, why are you shouting?"

"He said your name four times, mate," Seamus said from across the room. "You get a bit deaf when you're focused, don't you?"

Harry ignored him. "Did the Harpies cancel early? Why are you back so already?"

"Late, actually," Ron told him with a frown. "It's after six. I'm supposed to be home for dinner already."

Harry hummed and returned to his book. He really did lose track of time. "Dinner," Ron said again, before Harry could lose himself in the book again. "Which you agreed to join us for."

Harry looked back up at Ron, trying to understand the words. Then he remembered.

"Fuck."

"Yeah," Ron said with an eye roll. "Didn't think I'd catch you, but hoped I could get a recap of what Herbins found before we head out. You know how Hermione gets when we talk shop."

Harry hesitated. "Ron...I just found something—"

"Don't do this, Harry," Ron said. Harry sat back in his chair. "You promised us. And Ginny. You know she'll kill you if you skip."

Harry took a deep breath. Ron was right. He threw the book into his desk drawer.

"So how hot was the cauldron?" Ron asked as Harry stood up.

"Sixty-nine degrees!" Seamus called from his desk.

"Nice," Neville said, bored. Harry smiled. Poor Neville had to react to that more than Harry had to.

Still, the joke made him think...

"Harry?"

"Oh, right," he said, turned to Ron while they walked out.

He was able to catch Ron up on his findings, but with little detail on the dozens of potions he'd found that might fit the data they had. He'd missed being able to talk things out with his partner like this. He'd have to ask Robards to put someone else on the Harpy's protection detail. Though...that would cut into his time with Ginny. Besides, with the Cannons soon rotating to the Harpies practice facility, they'd have to be extra vigilant—just in case the two cases were linked.

"See you in a few," Ron said before disappearing into the floo.

Harry followed him into the fireplace and started thinking about the case again. He hadn't even written down his thoughts on the last potion he was looking into. He exited the floo, and nodded to Ginny before heading over to the corner of the sitting room, where he had his home desk crammed. He wondered when the last time he'd used the desk was, as he pulled out parchment and quill and started writing.

"Harry?" Ginny said softly, and he immediately looked up. "Are you ready?"

It took Harry a moment to realize what she was talking about. She looked really nice tonight.

"Oh, shit, yes," he said, embarrassed that he'd forgotten a second time just seconds after Ron reminded him. "Can I just..." he trailed off, because what he was going to ask was going to take a lot of time, now that he thought about it. And that seemed unfair.

"That'll take too long," he mumbled, and stood up. "Can I just change out of my robes?"

Ginny winked at him. "Oh that'll definitely take too long," she said. "But I promise we can do whatever you want after dinner."

Harry's mouth went dry, and he rushed back to his room to quickly change robes, his work forgotten at his desk.

-0-0-0-

"I'm not even to the best part yet," Ginny said, her hands held up to try to quiet Ron and Hermione's laughter.

"Ginny," Harry groaned to her side. He leaned towards her at the dining table, eyes pleading. But they were also filled with mirth. "They really don't need to hear my—"

"Hush," Ginny said, and she placed a finger to his lips. He scrunched his nose and glared at her. Turning back to Ron and Hermione, she continued her story. "So then we hear someone else approaching, and next thing I know, Harry has tackled me to the ground and stunned the Harpies' owner. So there I am in the middle of the locker room, nursing a sore backside and surrounded by not one, but two stunned teammates and an owner. I bet Lewis trades me first thing tomorrow."

"Sounds like you left some things out of your report last night, Harry," Ron accused, laughing at Harry. He leaned back in his chair, a comfortable gesture in his and Hermione's rather large apartment—complete with dining room. He and his girlfriend might be young in the Ministry, but both were successful with bright futures. They figured they could splurge a little in their shared home.

Harry merely shook his head at his mate's kind ribbing. "I got a little cast-happy, Ron. The timing of it all was just terrible. Happens to the best of us."

"Yeah, but it's me who will end up paying for it," Ginny said. She grinned at him, and he slowly smiled in return.

"If this damned case got moving," Harry complained, turning back to Ron and Hermione. "Then I won't have to do protection detail anymore and give Ginny more reason to insult me."

"Oh, Harry," Ginny said sweetly. "I'll still have plenty of reason, don't worry."

"Okay," he said, smiling wryly at her. "I walked right into that one."

And just like that, Harry had been distracted from talking about the case. Ginny had found it necessary over the last week to start doing that. She wasn't sure if the "super-focused Harry"—as Ron had put it—had finally made his appearance, or if this was something else, but she'd found Harry more broody lately. He'd been so happy to find the secret potions lab, but to her knowledge, the samples from her locker room didn't give them much to work with, and he was still waiting on the secret potions lab findings.

She'd gotten rather good at distracting him though. Once with her lips around his cock, another time with a strip tease that had been as terrifying for her as it had apparently been arousing for him. She'd grown to enjoy the experience. Both of them, actually.

But here at Ron and Hermione's dining room table, those options went right out the door. Hermione studied her across the table, and Ginny checked herself. Was she grinning dopily at Harry? Was she batting eyelashes or was her hand on his thigh?

No. But, Ginny knew she and Harry couldn't—and frankly wouldn't—hide their closeness. Even now, Harry had an arm casually thrown over the back of her chair. He wasn't even touching her, but the movement had been enough to earn narrowed eyes from Hermione earlier.

She suspects.

It was a silly thought, because what would Hermione's suspicion even be? Most likely that Harry and Ginny were in a secret relationship. Which, yeah, sort of.

But all of the clues likely pointed to a romantic relationship. Which it wasn't, as Harry had been quick to point out on multiple occasions recently. Just when she'd started to think—to hope, she supposed—that his feelings weren't entirely physical, he'd gone out of his way to reiterate that he was happy with the sex. His compliments had shifted almost exclusively to her body and how good she was in bed. Which was nice and all, but Ginny missed when he'd tell her she was 'amazing', without tacking on the 'when you're on top'.

Still, she wasn't about to call it all off. And he still did things that confused her to no end. The way he cuddled her afterwards. The way they fell asleep together almost every night. The way he kissed her, even when it wasn't about building arousal or setting the mood. No, just gentle kisses before they fell asleep. Or when they woke up, and he'd softly nuzzle her neck and cheek, even if they didn't have time for a quickie before going in to work.

It was likely this casual, almost subconscious intimacy that Hermione was picking up on. But it was also the intimacy that wasn't real. Or maybe it was the most real. Ginny didn't know. And she was too much of a coward to ask Harry about it. The last thing she wanted was for him to stop.

Because in those moments, she felt warm. She felt so perfectly content. Her heart thudded heavy in her chest and yet she felt light. And even if practice went poorly one day, or Evangeline was using this whole fiasco to turn the locker room against her, it was the kind of feeling Ginny could rely on. More effective at chasing away the demons of her past and present than even memories of Harry's head between her thighs.

Not that she didn't use those memories, too. She had a lot of them by now, after all. They shouldn't go to waste.

"If you'll excuse me," Harry said, shaking her out of her thoughts. "I'll be right back."

He scooted his chair back from the table, and stood from the table. Ginny grinned. "He's going to use the loo, everyone."

Harry glared at her. Hermione quirked her head. "I assumed," she said to Ginny. "Why did you clarify?"

"Yes Ginny," Harry said. "Why did you clarify?"

Ginny only beamed in response to Hermione's question. "Harry doesn't like people knowing when he's using the loo, and I find it adorable."

"I just like being discreet," he explained across the table. "No reason to broadcast it."

"It's like he's ashamed of needing to poop." She turned to Harry. "Everyone poops, Harry."

"Yes," he agreed, and Ginny knew she saw a small smile at his lips. It wasn't the first time she'd made fun of him for this. "Everyone poops, Ginny. So there's no reason for me to tell people when I need to. Which, I don't, by the way. I just came here straight from work and—"

Ginny turned back to Ron and Hermione. "I swear sometimes he waits until the middle of the night so that I don't see him retreat to the loo."

"Okay, I'm leaving," Harry said with a smile. Perhaps because they both knew very well that he didn't leave the bed in the middle of the night. He couldn't exactly say that though.

"You know," Ginny called at his back. "Up until a few hundred years ago, Wizards would just poop themselves! Right in public!"

Before shutting the door to the loo, Harry called back. "I'd have lived as a muggle then!"

Ginny turned back to Ron and Hermione, who each watched her with amusement and something else. More calculating.

Hermione leaned forward. "How do you do that?" she asked.

"What?" Ginny said.

"You know," Ron picked up. It was annoying how they did that sometimes. "Get him loose like that."

Ginny bit back a retort that this was nothing compared to how loose he was after a good orgasm. His body slack with pleasure, heavily resting his arm over her middle as he kissed the shell of her ear.

She shook her head. "What do you mean? Just joking around? You guys joke around."

Hermione shook her head. "It's different," she said, as if spouting a very insightful truth.

And Ron nodded as if she had, too. "I've been on a dozen cases with Harry. We're three weeks in, and he's never been able to laugh and joke at this stage of a case."

Ginny frowned, but Hermione jumped back in. "I still can't believe you got him to accept our dinner invitation."

"He's the one who recommended it," Ginny said. They were giving her far too much credit here. "You guys have always overstated Harry's emotional handicaps. He's great."

"He's great around you," Ron said flatly.

"Are you dating?" Hermione asked at last, and the room went silent. Ginny thought Ron might be holding his breath, glancing at Hermione. His expression was equal parts upset that she'd said that and grateful it was finally spoken.

"No," Ginny said easily. Truthfully. "We get along, alight? I'm pretty sure Harry isn't interested in a relationship right now anyway, so don't go pushing this."

The bathroom door clicked and opened down the hallway, effectively ending their conversation. He walked back into the dining area, and stopped when he noticed the odd tension in the air. "You were talking about me, weren't you?"

The words were spoken lightly, as if a joke, though Ginny could sense a slight frustration from him.

"Yes," she said, wondering how honest to be. Maybe she'd talk to him later about what Ron and Hermione were claiming. If she could gather the courage to have that conversation. So she lied instead. "Turns out Hermione doesn't think you're odd for never talking about the loo."

"Thank you!" Harry said, sitting back down. "See, it's a Weasley thing. Your family must just be extra close."

"It probably is a comfort thing," Ginny admitted. "We knew everything about each other—we were close."

"Seven kids for one bathroom will do it, too," Ron explained further. "I guess we needed to announce it so that everyone knew they couldn't use it for a while."

Ginny nodded. "And I always appreciated Ron telling me, so I could wait an extra hour before following."

Harry laughed. Ron scowled. Hermione shrugged in agreement.

"Alright, new topic of conversation," Ron said, and they all agreed happily.

Later, Harry had Ginny naked and pinned to his bed, his tongue dancing with hers in her mouth. It seemed having dinner at friends' didn't remove their need to cap off every evening tangled in bed.

"What tonight?" Ginny asked when he pulled back from his kiss. He had been rolling his hips against her, his length sliding easily along her slit, but otherwise they hadn't committed to anything yet. Ginny couldn't quite tell what she was in the mood for. Should she roll on top and take over? She always liked when he was in control, too, though.

Harry stopped his body movement. He blushed. Ginny frowned, thinking they had passed this stage a week ago. "What?" she prompted. "We said we wouldn't get embarrassed."

He sighed, and pecked her lips. "I know. It feels...childish?"

Ginny raised her eyebrows, now extra intrigued.

"It's just...I don't go a day in the office without someone—let's be honest it's usually Seamus—making a sixty-nine joke. And I've never, obviously, done that. Which..."

Ginny rolled them over on the bed. For some reason, she always liked when Harry admitted to something being new for him. Which was actually quite often, she'd found. He hadn't been lying when he'd said his previous relationships hadn't lasted long. "Okay," she said, an odd thrill running through her. "But I definitely want to be on top for it. You might crush me or something."

He grinned as she sat up on his stomach. She could feel his erection pressed pleasantly under her, and wondered if she should just slide him inside her instead and postpone the new experience. But no. She wanted to try this, too.

"Crush you?" Harry asked, still with that smirk. "I've been on top a dozen times! Have I been crushing you?"

"No," Ginny admitted. "But this is new. We shouldn't risk it. Plus, it makes more sense, right?"

Harry shrugged. "No idea."

"Right," she said, looking down at him. "So how do we...start?"

His hand gripped the underside of his legs, and pulled her up to his face. "Somewhere familiar," he mumbled before she settled on his mouth.

She gasped when his tongue licked inside her, and tried to fight off a flush that ran up her body. And for once, it wasn't about the pleasure he caused her. "Harry," she managed as his hands wrapped over her thighs. "This isn't somewhere familiar."

She was sitting on his face! And it's not like he hadn't been exactly right there many times before, but for some reason it felt different.

A good different.

Still, she tried to lessen the weight on him and lifted slightly, only to have his hands tighten around her and pin her back to him.

It wasn't until she started rocking into him a minute later that Ginny remembered what they were doing. "Potter, stop it!" she snapped and lifted herself off his face.

He looked startled at her interruption, but seemed to get distracted by what was right in front of his face. Ginny awkwardly shifted and clambered over his head so she could twist and settle back over his mouth. She really wasn't sure if she should be embarrassed by all of this. She was moving her body in ways and proximities she hadn't needed to before. Harry really didn't seem to mind though, as he reached right back up around her thighs and caught her arse in his hands.

He squeezed her and tried pulling her back down to him, but her feet were up against the headboard. He had to shift—almost bounce, really—down the bed to make room, and the movement caused his erection to wave hilariously in front of her face before slapping against his stomach again.

She grinned. Ok, she definitely didn't need to be embarrassed. Sex was just funny and awkward sometimes.

Harry finally succeeded and pulled her back to his face, and Ginny melted against his body.

Her breasts pressed against his stomach, and she found the slight difference of feel from his chest to be rather thrilling. She lay her head over his hip and thigh, and admired his erection in front of her. The view was new enough, she could almost ignore the way he wrapped his lips around her and sucked just like she liked. Almost.

She took him in her hand and leaned forward. She hesitated. it was a night for trying new things, after all. She licked down his shaft before continuing on to his sack. He froze underneath her. She took a ball into her lips and sucked.

He hummed, and she shivered at the vibrations it caused. That she caused him to cause. His grip on her arse tightened. She'd have nail marks there, despite how short Harry kept his nails.

What followed was nothing short of incredible, and when Ginny rolled off of Harry, she knew this experiment would be one to repeat.

"Wow," Harry said breathlessly. She'd come first, obviously. That was always what happened. Usually multiple times.

"You tasted better," Ginny commented idly, as he rolled and squirmed until he had his head on her stomach, his body at an angle until his feet fell off the side of the bed. "Have you been eating something different?"

He made an adorable scrunchy face as he looked up at her, through the valley of her breasts. "I used a charm, actually."

She chuckled and ran her hands through his hair. "Really wanted this to go well for me, eh?"

He nestled into her some more, clearly enjoying the feel of her nails sifting through that mess he called hair. "Did it?"

"Yes," she answered, far too relaxed to try to for wit or sarcasm. "I really, really, liked that, Harry."

He pressed a kiss to her rib. And then looked at her with such adoration, she almost called him out on it. What would she say? You're not allowed to look at me like that if this is just about sex, Potter!

No. He was allowed. She only melted further when he responded to her admission. "Me too."

This was okay. She was just in her head about it all. This was physical and exciting for him—they were both experiencing new things together. And if the contentment rising in her each day had less to do with the sex, and more to do with him, that's just something she'd have to live with.

They were comfortably silent for a long while, Harry's eyes drifting shut with her ministrations. Ginny was close to dozing off before he shifted and startled her to alertness. He rolled off of the bed, and Ginny admired his firm backside, the way it curved into a toned back. He walked toward his bedroom door.

"Be right back," he called over his shoulder. And not-jokingly added, "Gotta use the loo."

Ginny frowned. Not just because he turned the corner and she couldn't watch his butt anymore.

A/N: Big thanks to the reviewers who drop a paragraph or sentence or single exclamation point. I just love reading y'all's reaction to reading!