A/N: I have to say, your anger and yelling at me was less severe than I feared it would be. That feels like a challenge.

Harry yawned.

It had been a late night and an early morning. Dorian Vane had realized at some point after his arrest last night that there was no solution for his legal problems except to aid in the investigation.

His lawyers still held his tongue more often than Harry would like, but Vane was being genuinely helpful now.

Harry scribbled notes on some parchment at his desk. Normally, he'd let his Quick-Notes Quill do most of the writing, and he'd dictate. But right now, the note-taking was as much about organizing his own thoughts as it was about making a record.

Harvey Little

· Cannon's Equipment Manager

- - Cover or real job?

- - Only 2 OWL, 0 NEWTs

- - Adequate job performance, unremarkable

· Dorian Vane's contact with supposed potions master

- - Middle man?

- - Complicit or Blackmail?

· Friends/Family

- - Muggle Father, Mother attended Hogwarts. Both deceased

- - No known associates at this time

- - Bring in coworkers for questioning

· Ginny's attacker?

- - Capable of Imperius?

- - - Fought off because it was weakly cast?

- - Motivation personal or for potions master

- - - Is attack related to Necromancy ingredients found?

"I don't buy it," Ron said from his desk, startling Harry out of his profile of Little. He looked up to see Ron staring at the opposite wall, lost in thought.

"You don't think Little was involved in the attack on Ginny?" Harry asked.

Ron looked at him, brow furrowed. Harry realized Ron would have no idea what Harry was writing when he interrupted Harry.

"No," Ron shook his head. "Sorry, I'm taking a mental break from the case."

Harry didn't blame him. They were both running on three or four hours of sleep, and coffee could only do so much. He sat back in his chair. "What don't you buy then?"

"You and Ginny," Ron said, and crossed his arms over his chest. Harry bit back a groan. "You're nervous about your relationship being influenced by me. By Hermione, by my family. It's new. You want it to just be yours for now. I understand."

"You're in denial," Harry said with a roll of his eyes and bent back over his parchment. He knew he wouldn't get any work done until Ron was distracted though.

The truth was, Harry was ready to give a real relationship a go. And yeah, he might even want it to be a secret for a few weeks while they transition from a strictly physical relationship to something more. Assuming Ginny even wanted to give it a try, of course.

He wanted to ask her last night, but she was so tired. She could barely hold her eyes open, and as limited as Harry's experience in this department was, he knew it was no time to confess his feelings to her.

He'd considered climbing into bed with her, and telling her when they woke. But when he laid her down on her bed last night, it had felt...wrong, to climb into bed with her. Now that he had decided his relationship couldn't just be physical anymore, he couldn't bring himself to behave as they'd grown accustomed. It felt like a lie. Like he was using their arrangement to steal moments of love from her. Climbing into bed and holding her as they slept would've felt like a gross grift for affection.

"I think you're the one in denial," Ron retorted, and Harry almost laughed. Today was the first time in nearly a month he hadn't been in denial about his feelings and hopes for Ginny. "You can't tell me you don't like Ginny."

"I don't think you understand what friends with benefits are, Ron," Harry said, defending his previous arrangement despite its impending end. "Of course I like Ginny. She's my friend."

Ron groaned. "You know what I mean, mate."

Harry imagined that arguing with Ron would be easier if he didn't mostly agree with Ron about everything. The main difference between the two was that Ron was convinced he and Ginny were in love and in a relationship. Harry, on the other hand, simply wished for that.

He'd left their flat this morning, equal parts relieved and disappointed that she hadn't woken before he had to go. He didn't want to rush it. He wanted to do it right, when they had time to talk, and he could make his case. It might be her day off, but he had to work today.

He was going to tell her tonight. He'd sneak off to the Burrow to pick some wildflowers from the field out back. He'd make her a candlelit dinner—a pasta dish that he knew she'd loved. And then he'd tell her. He'd tell her he was in love with her, and that he couldn't be content with what they were anymore. He wanted more.

And as terrifying as it all was, he felt like it would work out. Sure, she'd been clear about this just being physical for her—but it wasn't just physical. Their relationship had morphed over the past month. She was his best friend. She understood him. He felt...he felt full when he was with her.

And he saw it in her too. A contentedness that went far beyond fulfilled libidos or a good orgasm. The way they cuddled at night, and laughed in each other's embrace. How they'd shared their pasts and fears. The comfort they'd found in each other.

All of that had to be real. But he couldn't bask in it any more. Not until he told her. Not until they called it for what it was.

But time for dreaming was over. Robards burst into the bullpen a moment later. "Potter, Weasley—there's been an abduction at the Harpies facility."

Harry's heart stopped.

No.

No, she was at home.

Why would she go back?

In his peripherals, Harry caught Ron slump into his chair. A faint whisper. "Not again."

"Harpies' Chaser Evangeline Mera has been taken."

Harry hated himself for the massive swell of relief that swept through him.

"How..." Harry swallowed through a cough, quite unsure how to form thoughts through the maelstrom in his chest. He shot out of his chair. "Cannons were using the facilities today. Harpies had the day off." He shook his head. "What do we know?"

"Very little," Robards grunted. "I just got the message from some of the Cannons staff. They spotted Harvey Little on site, but by the time they reported it to ownership, he was gone. A few minutes later, Mera's boyfriend—the Cannons beater, what's his name?"

"Reynolds," Ron supplied, his voice shaky. Harry could imagine Ron's gut had been on the same out-of-control broom ride as his had.

Robards nodded. "That's right. Reynolds was just finishing up his shower after practice, and couldn't find her. In the fifteen minutes he was in the locker room, she was taken. They had plans to go out as soon as he was free. She's not responding to his messages."

"Let's go," Harry called out to Ron, and reached for his robes hanging on the rack.

Ron nodded and stood. Robards held up a hand. "See what you can find out, but you're also on protection detail."

"But Ginny's at home," Harry said.

"As soon as Gwenog Jones heard, she called for a team meeting. I managed to convince her to wait an hour, but she said they'd be getting together no matter what. Letting us know was just a courtesy."

Harry growled, and tried to put himself in Jones' shoes. He understood the need for the team to come together and share their fears, offer their support. But right now? When there was so much to do?

"Fine," Harry muttered, and he and Ron went on their way.

As it turned out, there was so little evidence to be found at the facility that the Harpies' arrival didn't even stall the investigation. Harry and Ron had already put in a request for a search warrant at Harvey Little's home, so really they needed to wait around anyways.

After questioning everyone present and finding no more information than Robards had supplied in five minutes, Harry was grateful for the distraction of the Harpies' arrival. In particular, Ginny. He knew his grand plans for the evening would be put on hold. For now, he just wanted to see her and make sure she was okay.

When she came through the floo, Harry's stomach dropped. Her eyes were red with shed tears, cheeks were red from repeatedly swiping them away, and her hair was red because she was Ginny, even if this person was hardly recognizable. Normally so full of life and light, her body seemed defeated, her shoulders hunched.

Harry wanted to run the few short steps between them and gather her in his arms. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was, and that he'd find Evangeline. He wanted to hold her and make her feel safe.

But that was something a boyfriend did, right? Hadn't this been exactly the thing he wanted more out of their relationship? They hadn't had that conversation though. He hadn't admitted it to her yet. So he hesitated.

Ginny looked expectantly at him, and Harry saw her eyes flash hurtfully, as he simply stood there, watching her dumbly. Ron shot a quick glance at Harry, a glare so dark, Harry wondered if Ron had been possessed.

Then Ron ran to his sister and pulled her into a warm embrace.

Harry's heart thudded heavily in his chest. He was being stupid. Ginny was his friend, even if she wasn't his partner. And when Ron pulled away from his hug, Harry took his place.

And he whispered words of sorrow, promises of justice. But despite hugging him back, Ginny felt stiff in his arms. She'd seen his hesitation, and Harry couldn't begin to guess at her interpretation of it.

And Harry had the distinct feeling that his hesitation would not be written off as a passing fit of insecurity.

-0-0-0-

Ginny didn't hear a word Gwenog said. Still, there was a level of comfort to hearing her voice—even if that voice was tinged with a confidence and reassurance that had less integrity than Cornelius Fudge.

No one was safe anymore.

Ginny had thought everyone else was safe. She hadn't worried for her teammates. Hell, she'd hardly worried for herself, so blind was her faith in Ron and Harry.

And not just her faith. She had let Harry consume her. He burned so bright, fear had no hold on her. It couldn't. Not when Harry himself held her.

But Harry didn't hold her, did he? It was all a fabrication of her mind. That first night when he'd held her and confided in her hadn't been a fluke, but it clearly wasn't who they were. It was a single moment of pure understanding and trust. And then she'd extrapolated. She'd projected that night onto everything that came after.

Every whispered word of adoration had been a declaration of love. Every touch was a lover's embrace. Every smile held understanding, and every kiss promised his life.

But none of that was real. It was a projection that she'd hoped for, and then denied; yet in her denial of it, she grew to believe it.

As it turned out, Harry didn't feel the same way as Ginny. Not to the depth she did, at least. Because the moment she heard about Evangeline, she thought of Harry. She wanted him home with her. She wanted him to be the one wiping her tears away.

Instead, he hesitated. As if he were more concerned with the optics of their relationship than he was concerned for her.

And she knew that was unfair. Surely he cared for her. That he'd gathered her in a hug and whispered all the right words proved that. But he'd hesitated, and Ginny knew it meant she'd been dreaming all this time. Most of this relationship they'd had...it had been about sex after all.

The hours passed; the team said their piece and hopefully took some peace with them. Ginny feared some of the glances of her teammates blamed her somehow for this. As if being the first targeted made her culpable. And worse too, Ginny felt the same way. She went home feeling hollow and afraid.

Harry came with, and she overheard his and Ron's plans to meet back up as soon as the warrant was authorized. She heard furious whispers from Ron as well, perhaps berating Harry for something.

But Ginny couldn't focus. Instead, she flooed home, trudged to the couch, and broke down again. Harry sat next to her on the couch as she sobbed. She felt herself tense when he put his arm around her. Now, he would comfort her?

"I'm so sorry, Gin," he whispered. She wanted to lean into his touch. She wanted to let it all out. Maybe he could help her understand the massive guilt she felt. She wanted him to explain why they'd been protecting her all this time, when it wasn't her that would be taken. She wanted to admit how gross she felt, for thinking she was special. For thinking this wasn't just about a man wanting a pretty young girl. And she wanted to blame Harry, too. For putting in her head that this was about her somehow. For never properly worrying for her team. And she knew that was wrong. But when her world made no sense and it felt like there was an acromantula clawing at her insides, Ginny couldn't reason with herself.

And she couldn't let Harry help either.

With one arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer, Harry reached his other hand to her leg, just above the knee, and gave her a gentle squeeze. "I'm going to –"

"What the fuck, Harry!" Ginny shouted, something shattering in her. Words she didn't believe tumbled out of her. "You're touching me now?"

Harry jumped back, his eyes going wide. "What? No, Ginny! You think I was trying to—"

"Well, seeing as the only times you seem interested in how I'm feeling is right before or after we shag, what do you expect?"

Ginny had never seen Harry mad before. Frustrated, sure. But never angry. His face grew red, he stood up. His hands clenched, almost shaking. "So because we fuck all the time, suddenly everything I've ever done is about getting in your pants?"

"What was that this afternoon then?" Ginny asked, standing up herself.

Harry flinched. "So, I let your brother hug you first," Harry suggested, trying to downplay the moment. But the fact that he knew exactly what she was talking about was all the proof she needed.

She scoffed. "I needed you, Harry! I needed my friend who understands how this feels. Don't act like you did it out of some noble deference to blood!"

Harry looked like he'd been slapped. "You're right. That's not why I hesitated." His voice was soft now.

Ginny felt her heart break. But now was not the time for that. Not when her team mate had been taken for Merlin knows what. So she locked it away to be examined at a later time. "I get it," she said through gritted teeth. "Keeping it purely physical. That's what we wanted, wasn't it? Shouldn't blame you for thinking sex would make this all better."

Harry breathed in and out without speaking. His face was still flushed, his eyes flashed dangerously. But there was far more than anger in those eyes now. There was hurt. Ginny decided she didn't like making Harry angry, and she certainly didn't like hurting him. She felt a pang of regret at throwing his actions at him, no matter how much they'd hurt her. After all, this had been her idea every bit as much as his.

"I didn't touch you as foreplay, Ginny," he said at last. "But since apparently that's all you think this was, then I'm sorry for thinking we were more than fuck buddies." He gave her a short nod, and turned to leave. And it was all so wrong. Even through her hurt and anger, Ginny knew it was all wrong.

"Harry, wait," she said. He froze, obediently. "I'm sorry."

He turned back to her, eyes less dangerous, but still stiff as a board. "Okay," he said.

"I don't...I know you're my friend. I know it was never just about getting in my pants," she repeated his words back to him. The callousness of them made her realize just how foolish her claim was. "I'm just...this is a lot."

He softened. "Yeah, it is." He stared at her, and she could hear him thinking. "I'm here to talk if you need me," he added eventually. He took a deep breath, giving her a moment to respond. When she didn't, he turned and walked back to his room.

And Ginny had the distinct feeling that this fight would not be written off as a passing fit of emotion.

A/N: Please don't hate me too much. I mean...a little is okay. Just please don't dip into loathing.