A/N: A confession seems to be a common request in the reviews I'm getting...

"I'll put my stuff away while you do your little check thingy of the showers."

"My check thingy?" Harry repeated with a smile. She sounded tired.

Ginny groaned. "It's been three weeks, Harry. Don't you think your protection detail can ease off?"

Harry did a sweep of her locker room, waving his wand a few times with some detection charms. It was empty. Normally Ginny would come in to the facility early, and would have no problems leaving with her team. Harry knew it was starting to take a toll, though. Neither had wanted to get out of bed this morning, and not for the usual reason of languid kisses and slow, morning sex. No, this morning, they had just wanted to sleep more.

"Maybe nothing has happened these last few weeks because of the protection?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, but didn't fight him on it. "I'm just..." she sighed. "I just want things to go back to normal."

He caught her hand as she reached for her locker. Shoulders slumped, she turned to him. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles and gave her a warm smile. "We're gonna get through this."

She nodded. "It wasn't such a big deal until the Cannons started practicing here."

After Harry had found the potions lab in the Cannons practice facility, the team had been forced to practice elsewhere. They'd spent a week at the Arrows, and now it was the Harpies turn to share. It changed up practice scheduling and put everyone in the organization on high alert.

The Harpies brass were not pleased with the league, the ministry, or the commissioner, and the negativity was spreading through the organization to the players.

Harry wished he could speed up the process, but the interrogations of the Cannon's organization was slow-going. Dopinder Vane had serious connections at the Ministry for all the red tape Harry and the Auror department had to jump through for each person they brought in for questioning. Use of Veritiserum was a pipe-dream at this point. Dopinder himself gave little help and claimed to be ignorant of any potions lab in his facilities. The organization, from top to bottom, had yet to give him anything—but Harry knew they were going to find a crack in the armor somewhere.

Before Harry could reply to Ginny and reassure her, however, she continued. "Or maybe if the Ministry would send a better Auror to follow me around."

Her smirk and wink told him she was being sarcastic. Her eyes told him how grateful she was for him. His heart warmed at their closeness that she could make this joke.

"Alright," Harry said with mock offense. "Just for that, you're not getting a shag tonight."

Eyebrow raised, Harry got the distinct impression Ginny took his comment to be a challenge. He wondered how long he'd last.

"Go check the showers," she said again flatly.

Harry did as instructed. His perfunctory charms revealed no one present, but he still went stall by stall, eye keen for anything out of place. It was imperative Harry not get lax from the lack of threats. He truly believed it was their protection detail that had kept Ginny safe for the last month. And he needed to keep it that way.

Harry turned back to the locker room, content with the safety of the showers, and in the doorway stood Ginny. Naked, hand on her hip, and eyebrow cocked.

"Fuck me," Harry whispered, and dragged his eyes up and down her body.

Ginny's body was not new to him as this point. He knew it well. Even so, his blood started pumping furiously at the sight of her and her challenging gaze.

"Thought you said I wasn't getting a shag tonight?" she hummed, and stepped forward gracefully. "Which is a shame, because I was hoping we'd finally try out the shower."

She reached him, and put a hand on his chest. Surely she felt his heart thundering under her fingers.

They'd taken a couple of showers together—but while they'd touched plenty, they had actually done so to clean themselves up. Both times had merely promised something better.

Harry cleared his throat. "You must have misheard me then," he said, and put both hands at her waist.

She stood up on tippy toes and brought her lips just a breath from his. "What did you say then?"

Her hands slipped into his robes and under his shirt. Her fingers danced on his skin and his stomach flipped.

"I said I'd have to make you come three times tonight to prove you wrong."

She shivered and fell forward into him, lips catching his. His hands traveled her body, skin soft. "Ginny," he whispered into her lips as he grabbed her backside in his hands and squeezed. Merlin, she had a nice arse.

"Hmm?" Ginny managed before biting his bottom lip. He screwed his eyes shut and had to keep himself from whining at the pleasure pulsing through him. He also had to bite off words he shouldn't be saying. Words he got closer to saying every single day.

"Your body drives me crazy," he said instead, knowing it was safe to say these things. She momentarily stilled before pushing him backwards into the shower stall.

"Hold up," he said, and pulled back. "I gotta go put some locks and charms up."

Her pupils were blown as she stared back at him. "Hurry up, or I'll get started without you."

Harry couldn't stop the whine this time. "Shouldn't have told me that if you wanted me to hurry," he admitted, then hurried off anyway.

He was surprised he managed the locking, alert, and extendible ear charm with his throbbing erection and the sound of the water turning on. He rushed back into the showers, tugging at his clothes all the way.

Ginny had left the curtain open wide for him when he got back. She ran her hands up and down her wet body, lathered with a small amount of soap. Just enough to showcase how smooth she was without blocking the view with soapy bubbles. Harry pulled off his shirt as her hand ran over her center, a finger sliding through her folds. He pulled down his pants, and couldn't resist giving himself a couple of strokes, as Ginny turned to look at him.

Her eyelids looked heavy before she closed them and leaned back into the stream of hot water. Her hair was darker when it was wet like this. He stepped forward, his erection pressed between them against her belly. He ran his hands through her hair and kissed her again. She turned in the shower so his back was to the water—hotter than he normally would have liked it. Steam gathered around them, but Harry was lost in her kiss.

"I need a better wash after that practice, Harry," Ginny said, stepping back to fetch the shampoo. Harry snatched it out of her hands as soon as she grabbed it, and quickly squirt it in his hands. She smiled, and turned around.

There was something incredibly erotic about running soapy hands through Ginny's hair. Maybe it was the slight tug—the way her head tilted back. Maybe it was the intimacy of the act. Harry thought he'd like to comb her hair some time. Something told him he'd find that activity every bit as wonderful as this one.

Next, Harry's soapy hands glided over her smooth body. He pressed lips to her neck and inhaled the familiar flowery scent of her shampoo. He spent extra time massaging her breasts, and Ginny's head fell back onto his shoulder. She turned lazily to give him a kiss while his thumbs each flicked back and forth over her nipples. Ginny reached down and touched between her legs.

"Yes," Harry breathed out. "Let me see you touch yourself, Ginny."

She nodded, and her back rolled against Harry's front. He adjusted himself so his erection fit between her legs. As her fingers pulsed deep inside of her, her knuckles would sometimes catch the head of his penis and pleasure would shoot through him.

If Harry hadn't experienced doing so himself, he might just think Ginny touching herself was the greatest thing he'd ever seen. He was fascinated by the tempo of her hand, the way she rolled her hips with her movements. And the way she moaned his name. Even though he wasn't the one inside of her.

It was all too much to bear, and Harry swung her around, and pinned her to the wall. In her surprise, her fingers slipped out of her, and Harry kissed her and pushed his inside instead.

It felt different than he was used to. The water from the shower had clearly washed some of her natural lubrication away, but between the leftover soap on his hands and her body producing the slick liquid in overtime, he was able to pulse inside of her at a speed he'd never tried before. Ginny's eyes widened and her back arched against the shower wall.

"Harry!" she called out, and he went faster and faster.

"Fuck, Ginny," he growled. "Come for me!"

Her hands pressed to her breasts, and water trailed down her. Her breathing hastened, and then she came apart with a gasp. She clenched around his fingers and fell forward onto him. Her fingernails dug into the skin of his bicep where she held on for dear life. Harry wrapped his spare arm around her back and supported her as they stumbled back into the shower stream once more.

"I..." he started, and bit off the words. "You're amazing," he let himself say instead. "You are absolutely incredible."

She shook her head. "Your hands, Harry. How...how are you so good with your hands?"

He shrugged and kissed her again. Water hit him in the face, and he had to hold his breath, even between kisses, to keep from inhaling water. When their breathing and kissing and inhaling of water became a little too much to take all at once, Ginny batted the head of the shower away from them. The air was still warm from the shower, but the evaporating water sent a chill through Harry's body.

Or maybe it was the way Ginny turned around and leaned forward against the stall wall. His eyes traced up and down her perfect form, and she eyed him over her shoulder. She quirked an eyebrow.

She couldn't be real. Harry was sure she was just a hyper-extended fantasy of his, and soon he'd wake up in some hospital bed covered in sweat and spunk from a thousand nocturnal emissions. But, he'd take the fantasy while he could.

Harry groaned, and stepped up behind her, and wasted no time sliding inside of her. He paused for a moment, caught up in the feel of her. "I want..." he started, mind not sure where his mouth was taking him. "I want you."

Ginny chuckled. "I think you've got me, Harry."

And his heart pounded with the weight he wished these words carried. He wanted to tell her what he really meant when he said he wanted her.

He thrust into her, and it was amazing. But it wasn't what he wanted anymore. Not just this. He screwed his eyes shut and thrust harder.

He wanted to be hers. Truly and deeply, he wanted to be Ginny's Harry—and no one else could ever have him. He thrust harder still.

And slipped.

Flying limbs and slick bodies flipped, and the world was dizzy for just a moment before a sharp pain in Harry's back, elbow, and then chest told him he had fallen to the ground, and Ginny on top of him, her back still to his chest. They had fallen right back into the stream of water.

They took a few moments to breathe and gather themselves before their laughter echoed through the showers.

"Are you," Ginny gasped, shifting on his chest so she could look over her shoulder at him again. "Are you hurt?"

Harry shook his head through his laughter. "Only a stinger on my elbow. And my pride, probably."

Ginny laughed again before leaning in to kiss him. His hands wrapped around her middle and ran over her wet skin. "We should probably get off this floor," he mumbled into her lips. "Might be dirty."

"Good," Ginny whispered back. "I like it that way."

Harry chuckled. "Is this your version of dirty talk?"

She merely reached down and took him in her hand, to guide him back to her entrance.

And this whole thing was not comfortable. The tile was hard, and the water hitting their faces made it hard to kiss for extended periods of time, instead settling for pressing their heads together and breathing close to each other's mouths.

But it was perfect. Ginny rocked on his front, and his thrusts were gentle. He brought a hand down to gently circle her clit as he slid in and out of her. Wet, hot, touching head to toe, and hearing her moan his name—all after an embarrassing rookie shower sex mistake. They laughed between kisses and squinted eyes to keep the water out. She just made him feel so unbelievably warm, so happy.

Oh.

And just like that, Harry knew it. He knew he was in love with her. And looking back, it somehow felt like he'd always been in love with her, since the day Ron introduced her and he stumbled over his greeting. And the thought that it had ever been just physical was laughable. The idea that this was ever just a crush made him pity younger Harry for not realizing it sooner.

So he made love to her, there on the Harpies shower floor. He knew how to touch her, fingers dancing on her while they settled into a wonderful rhythm. He held her breast with his free hand and bit at her neck. Ginny's hands moved behind her to run through his soaked hair, and he reveled in the gentle tug at his scalp. He whispered of her beauty and wonder while she moaned his name.

When he came inside of her, and she shook with her climax moments later, he was ready to tell her. It was worth the risk. She was worth the risk.

"Ginny," he whispered into her neck.

"Hmm?" she hummed, body slack on top of his. He clutched her to him—as sure as he was that she was worth the risk, there was still a chance this would be the last time. This may be the last time he could touch her like this. Hold her.

"I—"

A series of beeps sounded from Harry's discarded clothes, and it took a moment for Harry to shake himself of his post-coital bliss and near confession.

The charms he'd set—someone had tripped the alarm.

He and Ginny scrambled to their feet. Ginny turned the water off while Harry rushed to his scattered pile of clothes—some had gotten quite wet. He found his wand and performed a simple drying charm on himself, Ginny, and his clothes. Then he activated the extendible ears charm—an idea he'd had after visiting Fred and George's shop a few months back.

His wand started to emit someone's voice. It was faint, but growing stronger. Someone was nearing the location of his charm. The voice was familiar.

"—not what we agreed to, and you can tell him that the arrangement is terminated, even when we're back in our facilities."

His skin and clothes still quite wrinkled from the water and the floor, Harry dressed as quickly as he could. He glanced at Ginny, who looked at him with wide eyes.

"He won't be pleased, of course," a second voice sounded through Harry's wand. This one was less familiar. The voices had reached a peak volume, and started to fade. They had just passed the locker room door.

Harry didn't bother with his robes or his shoes, and threw a look at Ginny. He needed to get to them before they were out of sight. She nodded her understanding.

He dashed off, canceling his extended ears charm, and casting a disillusionment charm on himself. Then, on silent bare feet, he opened the locker room door and followed a pair of men walking down the hallway.

They spoke in hushed tones that the charm had been able to pick up better than Harry's ears could now. So he crept closer, and his suspicions were proven correct. The first voice he had heard was Dorian Vane, son of the Cannon's owner.

Harry sighed inwardly. He'd really hoped this man was innocent. All signs had pointed to him being involved, but the man was so likeable that Harry had held out a little hope. Harry had secretly wanted to be able to pin everything on his father—but it was a bias he was aware of and certainly wouldn't let it affect him when all evidence pointed to the son.

The other man was on the Cannon's equipment staff. Harvey Little—one who had seemed of little importance. Harry had brought him in for questioning, and nothing about his unremarkable Hogwarts schooling or work in Quidditch had stood out. He was in charge of broom care and making sure uniforms were cleaned and ready for the players. He tuned the practice snitches, quaffles, and bludgers.

The man was in his early thirties, pudgy, balding, and had a gaze when asked tough questions that made Harry wonder if anyone was home. There was no reason he should be talking to Vane. And he certainly shouldn't be the one with the obvious power in the conversation.

Harry got close enough to hear again. Harvey Little was speaking. "—how this works. You can't go back on a deal with him."

"Back on a deal?" Vane cried in disbelief before glancing around. His voice had echoed in the hallway, and it was as if he only now realized how dangerous a conversation like this was in this setting. From his tense body, Harry guessed he'd been trying to track down and talk to Little for some time. Besides, no one should be at the facility this late.

"From what I gather, he's been lying about the deal the whole time," Vane said quietly. "I was asked about Necromancy."

Little stopped walking. "You supply the ingredients and payment. He supplies the potions. That's the deal, and you do not want to end it." Little's voice carried an obvious threat.

"My team is being watched like a hippogriff," Vane said. "So we couldn't even take the stuff even if we wanted to at this point. And now that I know what ingredients he's been buying, I don't want any part in it."

Little shook his head. "I'll let you mull this decision over for a couple more days before I pass the message along. I promise you, you'll want to rethink your position. We're done here."

Little started off again, so Harry removed his disillusionment charm and decided to make his presence known. "Not quite," he said, wand directed at Little. Little and Vane spun around at his voice, faces a satisfying picture of horror. "The two of you are under arrest for withholding vital information to a case and probable obstruction of justice. Slowly remove your wands with two fingers and set the—"

As he'd hoped, the two men pulled their wands on him. It always made the arrest so much simpler when they didn't cooperate. Dopinder Vane would have a much harder time limiting Harry's actions against his son if Dorian had attacked an Auror.

Harry waved his wand in rapid succession. Vane hit the ground before he could speak a word. But Little, using the slight distance he'd put between them, managed to avoid Harry's first curse, turn on the spot and disappear.

Harry groaned at the missed opportunity, but looked down at Vane with satisfaction. He wouldn't be able to plead ignorance anymore.

Harry waved his wand again, and created a Patronus to send to Ron. He had a feeling they were going to have a long night.

-0-0-0-

Ginny wasn't sure whether she should just go home, or wait for Harry to finish whatever he was doing. In the end, she got dressed, and decided to wait for a half hour in case she was needed.

It was probably the wrong move, because Harry returned to the locker room twenty minutes later with Ron trailing behind him.

"I'm confused," Ron was saying as they entered. The doorway was hidden from the locker room proper by a wall. "If they were walking down the hall, how did they not see you?"

"I was in here," Harry said, and they both appeared from behind the wall to see Ginny sitting in front of her locker. Harry smiled when he saw her. "Oh hey Gin, I wasn't sure if you'd still be here."

Harry looked like he'd just come from the shower, and Ginny felt herself stiffen.

"You were inside the locker room while Ginny was changing?" Ron asked, eyebrow raised.

A look of panic crossed Harry's face, and Ginny might have found it adorable if circumstances weren't so threatening.

"She was in the shower at the time," Harry covered quickly, though Ginny caught the tension in his voice. "I like to stay just one room away."

Harry was over-explaining. Ginny knew it, the suspicious look on Ron proved he knew it, and the cringe Harry sported proved he knew it.

"And the reason your shoes are next to my sister?" Ron asked, his voice low. Ginny bit back a groan as she glanced to her right, where she'd neatly folded Harry's robes and tucked his socks inside his shoes.

Ginny glanced back at Ron, and realized she couldn't read her brother, which was scarier than any single emotion she could imagine on him.

"Took them off to stay quieter behind them," Harry said. Ginny looked at Harry's feet and found that he'd transfigured something into shoes for him to wear. Clearly he'd thought enough about Ron's arrival that he'd planned at least to not be barefoot when he arrived. Ginny really should have gone home—and taken Harry's stuff with her.

"There are spells for that," Ron said.

"You know I prefer not to rely on magic if I can help it," Harry tried.

"For cooking," Ron said dryly.

"And other things."

"Mate," Ron said, his eyes boring into Harry.

"Mate," Harry replied, and he stood straighter. "Now is really not the time for this."

Ron frowned at Harry for several long seconds before turning back to Ginny. Then he stared at her for what felt like an eternity. Ginny didn't say anything.

"Fine," Ron said eventually. "But I'm happy for you two."

Ginny looked sharply at Harry, whose intake of breath wasn't subtle. He looked back at her with widened eyes. She gave him an imperceptible shake of the head, which she hope he interpreted as 'don't tell him.'

He must've gotten it right, because he blew right past the blessing Ron had mistakenly given them, and got right back to the case. "Great," he said. "Hey Gin, you can probably head home. I'm just going to review with Ron what we heard and then interrogate Vane."

"It was Vane?" Ginny asked. Ron glared at Harry. He'd been far too forthcoming with details about the case to Ginny for Ron's taste. Even Harry admitted he shouldn't be telling Ginny things that he did.

"Dorian," Harry clarified with an apologetic look at Ron. "Anyway, it could be a late night."

Ginny nodded. "Do you, er, want your robes and shoes back?"

Harry blushed. "Yeah, you can just leave them there. Thanks."

"Sure. Er, bye Harry. Bye Ron."

"Bye Ginny," Ron said, and Ginny still couldn't read the look he was giving her.

So she left. She went home, and paced. She reheated some leftovers, and picked at her meal. She fiddled with the wireless. She read a book in two-minute increments before her mind would wander. Then she'd shake her head and return to her book.

The truth was, she couldn't stop wondering what Ron learning about them would mean. If he remained under the impression they were together, then it wouldn't take long for the rest of her family to find out. Ginny assumed Harry wouldn't be pleased to be fake-dating her, as this scenario would demand—and it would be the end of their situation. She might even have to move out.

If they told Ron the truth, they'd suffer his disapproval and disappointment. But assuming Ron was mature about it, they'd survive it just fine. She was sure she'd get a very stern talking-to about it all, big brother style. She could live with that.

Eventually she came to the conclusion they'd have to tell him. With this realization came the second question that wouldn't leave Ginny alone. Why was she so desperate that their situation continue? Why was the idea of their tryst stopping awful to the point that she wouldn't even entertain the idea?

And the answer was so obvious, that Ginny didn't even need to dwell on it. She realized that she hadn't even been living in denial for the past few weeks. She'd simply known with such certainty that she was in love with Harry Potter that she never needed to say it or consciously worry herself over it.

So no. She would not entertain the idea of Harry ending things because of a lie to Ron. He would tell the truth, and she would continue to love him and be with him intimately until she found the courage to tell him. Maybe with a confession, he'd be willing to try a real relationship. Maybe he would realize they could be more than physical partners.

And with that conclusion and hours of buzzed worry, Ginny began to feel the fatigue of the late night and emotional wringer. She curled up on the couch, and fell asleep.

She half-awoke when she felt Harry pick her up some indeterminable amount of time later. She lazily wrapped her arms around his neck while he walked them down the hall. "How'd it go?" she mumbled.

"Good," Harry said. His voice sounded far away. "He's given us some great details about the potions lab and what his deal with an unknown potions master was. We'll still need to find him though."

Ginny nodded, and Harry walked them into her room. They normally slept in his. Not always, but usually.

He set her down on her bed and knelt to the side while he tucked her in. "And Ron?" she asked, even in her sleepy state recognizing Harry wasn't climbing into bed beside her.

"Told him the truth," Harry said with a sad smile. "He wasn't pleased. But..."

Ginny nodded. "It was the only thing we could do."

Harry hesitated. He reached up and tucked Ginny's loose hair behind her ear. "Ginny?"

She yawned. "Yeah, Harry?"

He stared at her, long and hard, and if Ginny was more awake, she might wonder what he was thinking. Instead, her eyes were heavy, and hard to keep open.

He gave her a small smile, then kissed her forehead. "I'll tell you tomorrow."

A/N: Oh no...I'm only now realizing that I might have gotten your hopes up over a confession. smh. my bad. Yell at me in a review if you'd like.