A/N: for the Ginuary exchange - gifted to deadwoodpecker!

The air in Diagon Alley has that crisp, almost spring feel; where every gust of wind has you craving a warm butterbeer, but one move of the clouds and the sun makes you wonder if summer arrived in the blink of an eye.

It's a welcome change either way after two weeks at the International Wizarding Law Enforcement Conference in Stockholm. Two weeks of bruises, trying to avoid an international incident, and icy rain.

Harry's team had performed well enough, a few of the more competitive training exercises ended with them on top and while it's not the point to win it felt good all the same. Though Harry finds celebratory pub visits aren't quite the same without Ginny at his side. Part of him - a large part to be honest that grows every day - even prefers being the plus one at a celebration rather than the primary invitee. There's nothing quite like Ginny flushed with victory, fresh from the showers, swiping the paint from his lips so she can -

"Hey there stranger."

His heart jolts in his chest as he grasps Ginny's fingers where they rest on his shoulder. Harry swipes a kiss across her knuckles and tugs her into his chest for a long hug. Or as long as they can before the pressing crowd becomes a mix of grumbling at the block in the traffic pattern and hushed murmurs about the two of them. Harry's celebrity still sticks around despite his relatively uninteresting life post-war, and Ginny's is good within reason. Until it gets in the way of what he really wishes could be a thorough welcome home.

In light of all this, their first kiss in weeks is a quick peck before Ginny tugs him through the stream of shoppers. "Let's go to the Leaky. I've been craving Tom's cottage pie."

"Not mine?"

"Do you make those little carrot curls for me?"

Ginny tugs the door open and gestures him inside and the warm glow of the wide fireplace at the back wall beckons. Along with their favorite booth tucked away in the far right corner. With a prod to his shoulder from Ginny, he's off to claim their spot while she orders - her cottage pie and Tom's beef stew for Harry.

While he waits at the luckily unclaimed table, Harry's daydreams are a mix of Ginny and the spicy, salty, delicious flavors that make up each spoonful of stew. And that's before he even begins to contemplate the crusty fresh-baked bread.

The daydreams are beginning to mix subjects in a strange but enjoyable manner when Ginny slides into the booth across from him and drops her head in one hand, fingers rustling the hair at her temple. "I got a side of chips too. Dunno about you but I'm famished."

"Hence the potato overload."

"You know I love my starches."

Harry laughs and slumps a bit lower in the booth, stress melting from his shoulders with every cheeky rejoinder that falls from Ginny's lips. "You earned it. Gwenog's pre-Spring Spring training is what we use as a threat to new recruits who aren't shaping up."

Ginny snickers as a steaming basket of chips and two lemonades float into view and land on the table with a soft click. After moaning around her first couple of bites Ginny's focus half turns to Harry, the other half understandably still on the chips which are admittedly delicious. "So you're back early."

"Yeah, the extra days were tacked on for administrative meetings but Kingsley said between him and Robards attending they didn't need a third person being tortured too. Besides, Mckenzie takes notes like a quick quotes quill without the editorializing."

"Do Lily and James know you're back yet or am I the only one who got a surprise?"

Harry swipes another wedge and shakes malt vinegar onto the crisp skin. "Nah, I left before they could change their minds. Checked some errands off the list, then I'll check in with Moody and Tonks, before hitting up that bakery over by the apothecary and appearing on mum and dad's doorstep as a beautiful, eclair bearing surprise."

"No me?"

Harry peers at her over the slowly descending bowls filled with their lunches. "You know very well I thought you were still away. And that you're my favorite way to kill time."

Ginny snorts again. "What sweet things you say. So I'm officially the first to know you're back?"

"Yes indeed. The minute dad sets eyes on me I will without a doubt be mothered to death."

"I would say you're tiredness has you all mixed up, but James Potter is the most mothering person I have ever seen," Ginny says around a tall forkful.

Harry dunks a bit of crusty bread in his stew. "Don't let Molly hear you."

Ginny laughs as her fingers find his free hand. "Mum said it first."

When her thumb rubs across his knuckles, he glances up and a comfortable quiet falls, like they're sharing something wordlessly, that quiet communication Harry takes for granted sometimes. The corner of Ginny's mouth lifts in a grin. "You're doing that thing."

Harry sets his spoon down and smirks right back. "What thing?"

Her shoulder rises and falls in a shrug. "I dunno, the 'I'm Harry and I like to overthink everything to death and usually end up thinking I'm ungrateful or on the path to evil.'"

He can't hold back the laugh at her spot on summation, so he simply presses his lips to the inside of her wrist and admits, "More the former this time," he pauses and flips her arm so he can see the face of her slim gold watch, "Speaking of time - "

"Ah my one true rival for your attention - the sands of the hourglass."

"Off to the ministry then?"

He doesn't answer beyond a sigh and a rueful examination of her hand. Honestly for something relatively chaste the intensity of his gaze almost feels like he's swept the table clear and begun ravishing her in the middle of the lunchtime rush. Harry's always had a thing for her freckles. A major thing. A thing that started with casual touches, to longer finger tip teases of exploration, and later to lips and lately his increasingly talented tongue.

"You're blushing."

Ginny shakes her head to clear the building daydream and raises one brow. "I'm flushed - entirely different situation. Blushing is all about feeling badly or embarrassed, flushing is thinking about exactly what you want, wherever and whenever you want, as much as you please with no regret."

Harry sucks in a breath as Ginny slowly drags one trainer up his leg and leans forward just right to - there goes his gaze right where she wants it. "See - flushed. Right there."

And when he jerks back in the booth and ruffles his hair, Ginny points a finger at him, triumphant, "That is a blush."

"You are a damn menace," Harry grumbles, grasping Ginny's hand and pulling her to her feet.

"You love it," Ginny mutters as she presses a kiss against his jaw.

After they rise, Harry drops a few coins indiscriminately on the table - less a tip and more a request for continued cooperation in future investigations and a little bit of 'let's not tell anyone Harry and Ginny got tipsy and snogged in the hallway.'

His arm bands around her middle, keeping her pressed close until they reach the fireplace. "Thanks for lunch, Gin."

"No need for soppy goodbyes, I'm coming too."

"You're not allowed in my office - "

Ginny widens her eyes and presses one hand to her chest, "Why ever not? We had such a lovely hour last time."

"That lovely hour is exactly why - I still can't look at the bookcase without - " Harry breaks off with another radiant reddening of his cheeks.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, I have a meeting too."

"Meeting? With whom?" Harry asks, holding his personal pouch of floo powder between them.

Ginny takes the necessary pinch in her palm and steps toward the fire, a glint in her eye. "The Unspeakables."

And before Harry's first unintelligible, half formed response leaves his lips, Ginny's disappeared in a flash of green flames.

With a shake of his head and a wry grin, Harry follows soon after with a slight stumble. By the time he emerges, tripping over his own feet, he has managed to collect his thoughts enough to craft a sensical response when he catches Ginny's hand on the other side. The atrium isn't filled with the bustle of early morning arrivals or the lunch rush, just a half dozen or so witches and wizards moving from one meeting to the next. Ginny twists and her hair flies around her shoulders like a fan. She laughs.

"Hips square, elbows in Potter? Remember quidditch drills or are you too old?

"I taught you those."

"You're a bit out of practice - it's dangerous to let skills like those lapse in your field. Care for some lessons?"

"THat's rich coming from someone putting me in worse danger as a civilian than while I was away on assignment."

"How so?"

"If this little interview is anything that'll negatively impact your Harpy devotion...Gwenog'll see me as complicit and it's a worse death sentence than I've faced."

Ginny laughs and grasps his other hand, swinging both gently. "First, you know I'm too mad for the game to leave so soon," when Harry nods she adds, "Second, I'm way too much for the Unspeakables on a regular basis, they definitely can't handle all this," she gestures to herself generally, "And third, I really do adore when you undersell your death defying past."

"So long as I'm safe," Harry says, "I suppose I can accept the compliment without fear hanging over me to ruin it. And we both know Voldemort is loads less terrifying than Gwenog."

After pondering the idea half a moment, Ginny tilts her head and accepts the concept. "True enough. I can trust you, right?"

"I would hope so," Harry answers easily, releasing one hand so they can walk slowly side by side, extending their time together just a bit longer.

"They're studying something or other related to broom flight, and I'm testing a one of a kind new model - "

"Are you trying to torture me?"

"I do love making you jealous with quidditch related perks," Ginny says with a grin, "And reminding you I am officially deemed the better flier of the two of us."

"Not officially," Harry shoots back, "I aced my combat flight training course - first in the class."

"Oh? So the Unspeakables asked for your help due to 'unparalleled skill in magically aided aerial movement?"

Harry grasps her waist and pulls her in for a kiss that's too short and just warm enough to send tingles straight to her toes. Then it's a quiet, "Off you get," muttered against her lips.

"You just like to watch me walk away, eh?"

The smile that lifts the corners of his mouth crinkles the corners of his eyes too, reminds Ginny of days she thought they might not live to see each other's laughter lines form. She lifts one hand to cup his cheek. "Love you, yeah?"

His smile softens. "Yeah," he pauses for a moment while resolve rises up in his chest, "Gin - "

Someone - some hideous person with horrific timing - shouts his name across the echoing chamber. "Kinglsey is ready for us!"

Harry drops his forehead to Ginny's and lets his eyes shut for a moment, takes a deep steadying breath. "There's - there's a smaller DMLE training room that's under light construction - "

Ginny blinks up at him. "Are you asking me to shag you in a construction zone?"

He snorts and shakes his head, the heavy resolve warming to a strong steady knowing. "I want to talk - save the shag for an alternate time and location."

"But the talk - here?" She casts her eyes toward Harry's increasingly impatient colleague, his name might be Donoghue, "Is it the best option?"

Harry blushes a bit, clears his throat, and nods. "Yeah - so. We'll talk?"

"Meet you at your office?"

"No!" Harry shouts, walking backward, "I'll find you! Just - don't leave."

Harry's meeting with Kinglsey is fine, most likely. He can't quite be sure because mostly it felt like the interaction happened on autopilot while the majority of his mind turned the idea that he hoped to float Ginny's way over and over. It felt sudden, the thought of them actually getting married soon - as in within the next day - but really Harry's wanted it longer than he'd care to admit. It's a miracle he's controlled the impulse this long.

And now, well he just has to find Ginny and see if she's going to go along with his impetuous and maybe a bit romantic proposal. Or save them what will likely be some family related grief and talk some - not sense. He's completely in his right mind. Perhaps more than he has been during this weird denial phase where he's pretended like he didn't want to be married yesterday. But he has to admit that an elopement will ruffle more than a few feathers. Both the Potter and Weasley families are in each other's business to an alarming - and most times endearing degree.

But now that the idea's fallen into his head, the idea that they could be an official 'we' in less than forty-eight hours, he just can't shake it free.

So now he just needs to see if Ginny's on board. Which first requires finding Ginny; a prospect that shouldn't be too daunting for someone who has known her since they were in nappies and also happens to be an auror. But Harry's never in his life felt this type of giddy nervousness that has him shivering with anticipation, and it's a bit hard to keep his head on straight.

Soon though, he shakes himself into somewhat of a logical mind and filters through possible locations, places where Ginny would go to avoid detection from anyone but him. She knows the Department of Magical Games and Sports best to be sure, but she's also loads more likely to get sucked into a work-related conversation or worse - extended meeting.

Muggle Relations is a similar issue. In many ways worse since at the very least one Weasley is generally present in those offices since Arthur was promoted to department head.

It'd have to be somewhere low traffic, where most people including the Weasleys tended to avoid out of general dislike or...fear.

Accounting.

With a grin, Harry finds one of the disused stairwells and jogs up two flights, peering out into the hall to check for unwanted potential conversation partners before opening the door fully and striding with the sort of purpose in his stride that usually keeps people at arm's length. Generally speaking, if one is dressed in auror's robes and walking with shoulders back and gaze above the realm of potential eye contact, it's fairly easy to avoid socialization.

It does, however, make it easier for someone to take you by surprise by grabbing your arm and dragging you into a broom cupboard. "What the bloody - "

With an expletive laden continuation of his surprised exclamation, Harry has his attacker pinned against the cupboard wall in a handful of seconds. Only to find Ginny pinning him with her deep brown eyes. A look that's a bit annoyed but more the other type of bothered. The 'hot and' type. "Nice moves Auror Potter."

Harry releases her shoulders from the press of his forearm and takes a step back. "Sorry."

She shrugs and grasps the front of his robes lightly. "I'd be more worried if you just took a surprise attack lying down."

"Reflexes are vital to my continued presence among the living," Harry muses, pulse escalating as Ginny's fingers make slow circuits of the brass buttons that run up his front. It's pretty impressive, if he does say so himself, that he manages such a coherent sentence.

Especially when Ginny shifts close enough that her breath warms his shoulder. "Mm, much better than your sixth year," she glances up at him through her lashes, "Remind me - what was the cause of all that trouble?"

Harry scowls and Ginny's fingers rise to his hair. "I don't recall."

"Some fit redhead, great at quidditch," Ginny says thoughtfully, "I believe she's gone professional."

She rises on tiptoe until her lips are right at his ear and Harry's hands rise automatically to her waist to steady her. "I think you tend to fancy a fit jock."

Swallowing, Harry squeezes his eyes shut and grinds out, "I really wanted to be clear headed for this - as clear as my head can be given the concept - "

Ginny pulls back to peer at him and he's just too far gone to do anything but drag her lips to his, palms running up her back so her shirt rucks up her spine.

The kiss turns a bit messy and soon Harry's working his way across her jaw and sighing against her skin. "I missed you."

"Me too," Ginny groans.

While her hands slip to his bum, Harry cups her jaw and kisses her lips again. "Marry me."

At any other point in his life, Harry likely would've enjoyed the fact that he threw Ginny Weasley off enough that she stumbled backward and ended up with her foot in a mop bucket. Would've probably really enjoyed teasing her when she got a face full of said mop. Instead he just feels like a prize idiot for proposing to his girlfriend mid-snog in a broom closet on the bloody accounting floor.

His hand rises to ruffle his hair because it's a damn hereditary disease. "I had a much better location planned."

Ginny blinks up at him and accepts his offered hand as she extracts herself from the mop bucket. "The construction site plan? You planned a proposal and that was it?"

She's fighting a grin and hasn't punched him in the gut and run screaming yet so Harry pulls her closer by his grip on her hand. "Yes? I don't want to be away from you."

Her gaze softens. "We're still going to travel."

Absently, Harry's thumb caresses her knuckles, even as he can't seem to focus his gaze anywhere near hers. "But - we'd live together. Be together more than not. And - " he ruffles his hair again, "I dunno, I love you and want to be with you - I want to start our life, yeah?"

He finally manages to drum up the courage to look into her eyes and he's not sorry. Not when he sees that infamous blazing look that lights up his heart, warms his bones, reminds him there's good among all the rest.

"Oh, Harry."

"Pretty good eh?"

She smacks his chest with her empty hand, lets it linger and eventually rise so she can slip her fingers through Harry's wild hair. "Pretty good."

Harry dips his head closer at her slight prompting, and they're so close. But neither gives that last push to eliminate the distance. He can feel her breath coming in short puffs, warming his parted lips. A smirk lifts the corner of his mouth, that one he knows drives her crazy in both the good and bad sense. From his perspective, the good is usually what wins out because it generally ends with her shoving him against something and snogging the life out of him.

This time, this time it doesn't seem to be much different. Not as that little crease forms between her brows and her lips pinch like she's debating whether to tell him off or do something else much more enjoyable. Though these types of 'arguments' usually end with the enjoyable bit anyway.

"Don't get all puffed up, Potter."

His smirk deepens. "No idea what you're talking about Weasley."

"Ah, hell," Ginny growls and then surges forward, kissing him like she decided to combine the battle of wits together with the mind numbing snog, like her life depends on it. She nips at his lower lip and as his mouth parts in a gasp she sighs, swipes her tongue into the space and brings their bodies imperceptibly closer.

Harry chuckles and lets his hands slip down to her hips, pulling her flush against him. "Is this a yes?"

"Ah I missed you, you obnoxious prat," Ginny sighs against his ear while he explores the column of her neck.

He hums. "Me too - that's why - " she nips at his jaw and his knees nearly give out, "Are you going to answer?"

"So needy," Ginny murmurs as her hands fall to his belt and wow this is a terrible idea but it's been so long.

"You can't distract me just by shoving your hand in my trousers and squeezing my bum," Harry says, though his trouble grinding out the statement does throw its truthfulness into question. "Are you going to answer?"

Ginny hisses out a quiet, "Yes," before she rises on tiptoe and deepens the kiss.

"Is that an answer?"

Pausing halfway through her work opening the buttons on his front, Ginny frowns up at him, hair wild and lips swollen. "Is this really the most pressing matter at the moment?"

Harry squeezes her hip. "Did you know aurors can get untraceable rush portkeys?"

Her eyes narrow. "No they can't."

"No they can't," Harry agrees with a smile full of mischief, "But Kingsley can authorize one for his favorites on the upper level staff."

"Trying to impress me?" Ginny asks, too tempting for Harry to keep himself from slanting his lips over hers.

When breathing requires they break away, Harry rubs his nose along hers and resumes the conversation, "Is it work-"

Before he can finish the thought, the closet door is wrenched open - locking it might've been a good call - and Harry winces at the bright light cutting through his fogged lenses.

Bill Weasley stares for a moment, looking torn between initial confusion and rage at what must surely be a highly compromised looking tableau. "What the fu- "

He slams the door shut behind him and they're once again in the dim light of the overhead lamp. "The bloody French Minister of Magical Finance is outside this cupboard right now - the cupboard where I found my sister snogging her damn - Harry you work here."

Harry sniffs and shoves his smudgy glasses up his nose. "Actually I work on entirely different level and in an unrelated department."

"Thanks for the clarification Percy jr.," Bill growls.

Meanwhile Ginny looks like she wants to devour Harry = which is really poor timing given that the eldest Weasley's nose is currently inches away from being in Harry's ear canal - and Harry's really trying not to make eye contact. Because Ginny Weasley is utterly irresistible even when resistance may be the only possibility of survival.

After a moment, she turns her attention to Bill, "That's a lot of sass for the person who thought the best option was shutting yourself in the cupboard with Harry and I."

"I panicked."

She rolls her eyes. "How are you in charge of anything - international relations no less."

"He's a dad too - baby girls," Harry adds, "Two of them."

Bill winces and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Don't remind me."

Ginny shoots a commiserating glance at Harry and he holds up a finger. "I have a solution. Bill, turn around."

"Can't we just apparate?" Ginny puts in while Bill sends Harry his most menacing look before doing as he's told.

Together, Harry and Bill reject the idea. "Too loud."

Bill turns over his shoulder and smirks, "Potter's snapping apparition is infamous."

Ginny shoves Bill back around while Harry fumbles in his pockets for what she assumes is his invisibility cloak. "Why are you even in here?"

"I thought this was the cloakroom!" Bill hisses.

"We don't have one," Harry says absently before lifting the cloak high in excitement.

He slips it on and suddenly he's out of sight, until one arm sneaks out and wraps around Ginny's waist to draw her underneath. "All set, Billiam," Ginny says with a laugh.

Bill flips her off but shoves the door open, his best 'like me' grin plastered across his face. "Sorry about that, Minister, there was a small doxy infestation and I didn't want to release the little buggers. All's set to right now."

Ginny resists the childish urge to trip, shove, or inflict any other sort of mild bodily harm on Bill as she and Harry slip down the hall and far away from Bill and his French tour group.

"Bill is officially on my shit list," Ginny grumbles, arm threaded through Harry's as they crunch up the gravel drive. Every window in the Burrow is lit, warm and inviting, and there's that part of Ginny that loves the feeling of coming home. Always will. And then there's the other part, the part whose boyfriend just became her fiance, the part that really really would like to have more than ten minutes without an audience.

"Don't you mean hit list," Harry asks.

Ginny shakes her head, expression twisting into a scowl. She looks like a vengeful goddess in the moonlight, Harry thinks, reaching his flowery language peak. Nothing quite like Ginny in a strop, Harry muses as she continues, "No. Shit list. Where all the people who interrupt should be because their ability to sense the needs and desires of others when causing their lives to intersect is shitty."

"You almost sounded like Hermione for a minute there," Harry says with a laugh before he releases her and shifts so his arm is wrapped snugly around her shoulders. "We should count our blessings it seems he kept the circumstances of our meeting vague."

"Are you just guessing that from the lack of screeching howlers sent our way?"

"Yes," Harry says with a nod as they near the front stoop. "Though I suppose they could be waiting for an ambush."

Ginny snorts and rests her hand on the doorframe, carved with everyone's initials - starting with Arthur and Molly all the way through Ginny. The whitewashed wood glows in recognition so the door clicks open. "See you on the other side."

Predictably, the moment Harry and Ginny cross the threshold, Molly Weasley lets out a high pitched yelp and engulfs them in a nearly suffocating hug. "I could hardly believe when Bill told us you were both here."

Harry presses a kiss to her cheek. "Don't tell my mum and dad yet, haven't gotten over there yet."

With a short grin in Harry's direction, GInny elaborates. "We heard it was cottage pie night and Harry wouldn't hear another word until we came straight over."

Molly pinches his cheek and gives Ginny one last squeeze before she bustles back into the kitchen where knives, spoons, ladles, and whatnot flit and fly about making last minute meal preparations. "Off you go. The family's outside."

It's not long before they're split up in the fray, pulled into the wild rush that is a Weasley family dinner within seconds of setting foot in the back garden. Ron just has to know about Harry's meeting with Kingsley and Percy will not rest until Ginny relatesher time in the Department of Mysteries in exact detail. Fred and George simply flit about giving the appearance of innocence which is exactly why Harry knows they are anything but.

Finally, after two and a half helpings of cottage pie and a too large helping of home churned ice cream, Harry extricates himself from the ever attentive Weasley horde in search of a few private moments in the loo - a genuine need after four ice cold glasses of lemonade. One of which was definitely spiked.

Harry is still swiping the excess water from his hands when he's dragged into the linen closet and dropped into almost complete darkness. He laughs when Ginny's wand lights the small space. "We've got to stop meeting like this, Gin."

"I kinda like it," Ginny mutters, "Clandestine - " her voice drops a few octaves, "Forbidden."

"You know what else is sexy?" Harry asks against her lips - though he doesn't wait for an answer, "Being married."

Ginny snorts. "I suppose it is," she agrees, "You do know we can be together without all that? Kinda are already."

"But - I want us to be a family," Harry's jaw works, "Not. This isn't pressure, but if you agreed, I'd marry you in an instant."

"Elope?"

"Well. Yeah. I guess so."

Before Ginny can answer, their second 'clandestine and forbidden' meeting of the day is again interrupted, though this time two Weasley brothers tumble into the closet. "I believe my sister was about to say eloping is not something to guess about, mate."

"You are quite right, Forge."

"Thank you, Gred."

Ginny scowls. "We really should start locking doors."

Harry nods in agreement and said unlocked door is once again wrenched open, with a slightly disheveled Ron and Hermione looking a bit more disappointed than the standard shocked one would expect at finding such a strange foursome in a closet.

Ron's shirt is half unbuttoned and Hermione's curls are much wilder than earlier that evening, so Harry barely bites back a groan while Ginny whisper-shrieks. "You have a bloody bedroom, Ron."

"Doxies."

"Heard that one before," Harry says with a roll of his eyes. Ginny can't help but chuckle.

But her expression soon hardens as she pins Ron, George, Fred, and even Hermione each with a glare meant to intimidate. "You're getting us out of here - now."

"Impossible," Hermione says, re-buttoning her sweater.

Ron tilts his head. "Not impossible - very difficult."

George nods. "Also inviting a lot of rage from Mummy Dearest upon ourselves - since you'd presumably be far away from the damage zone. Why would we?"

As Ginny's shoulders rise to her ears and Harry imagines he can hear her teeth grind, he clears his throat. "I'll tell you why - yes," Harry narrows his eyes at Fred, I can tell everyone all about why you owe me for that afternoon with the puppy, two yards of silk, and that photo of Gwen- "

Fred yelps. "We're helping. Everyone. We're helping, Ron and George I've got enough dirt on you to last a lifetime - even you Hermione."

There's a bit of grumbling but the circle of blackmail - Ginny likes to call it mutual cooperation. Soon Fred and George have cooked up a diversion, Ron is reluctantly complying with the twins' orders, and Hermione is needling Harry about what exactly requires such urgent escape.

Once the flash bangs fill the kitchen with smoke, Ginny grabs Harry's hand and drags him back down the gravel drive and far enough away that even his loudest apparition wouldn't alert the family.

They reappear in the entryway of Harry's cottage and as Ginny looks up into Harry's laughing eyes, everything they've talked about in half sentences in echoing atriums, crowded closets, and busy pubs finally comes to the forefront. No distractions, no interruptions, and soon, no turning back.

"So," Harry finally says into the quiet, palms rubbing up Ginny's back, "What's next?"

"You're the one with all the plans," Ginny says with a smile.

Harry slowly twirls a small section of Ginny's hair around one finger as he considers the multitude of possibilities before them. The one he's particularly excited about is also the one that could possibly get him smacked and will definitely earn some dangerous ire from the combined Weasley-Potter clan.

But it's also the one he can't seem to put out of his mind. "Let's get married."

Ginny nods. "I thought we snogged this one out already."

"Tonight."

Ginny wakes early, that bubbling excitement in her chest that hasn't felt this real and all consuming since Christmases before they all went off to Hogwarts. Now though, it's happiness that's full and warm, but in a steady way. A feeling that doesn't seem temporary - she won't be tired and over it by tea time.

Which is good, because currently Harry is rubbing soft circles around her bellybutton with the side of his thumb and nuzzling at her neck. If she was tired of this, of him, it would be a big blow to his ego.

He hums against her hair. "Morning."

"I can't believe either of us is awake this early."

Harry's agreement rumbles in his chest, tickles the soft skin of her neck.

"Especially after round three."

"That was at least three and a half," Harry corrects, then executes an impressive bit of maneuvering that ends with him settled in between her legs, elbows at her ears.

"Somebody's feeling good about himself."

"Four bouts will do that to a person," Harry says as he nips at her jaw.

Ginny laughs and lets her fingers card through his deliciously messy locks. "Four?"

"About to be at least that."

He rocks forward so the flat plains of his chest tickle across hers, lifting the blanket just enough that goosebumps litter her skin, only to be warmed by his breath as he slowly kisses his way down her middle.

With a sigh, Ginny grips the iron headboard with one hand and reaches vaguely for Harry with the other. "Is that so?"

Harry's lips find her navel and he pauses to smirk up at her. "Absolutely."

Ginny sighs and her fingers finally settle in his hair when he finally settles in place. And it's good that both happen almost simultaneously because Ginny very quickly loses almost all sense of reality and she needs something tethering her to earth.

Eventually, heart pounding, her senses refocus and the first thing she notes is Harry's smirk against the soft skin of her thigh. "You needn't be so impressed with yourself."

"I dunno, you sounded pretty impressed with me," Harry answers with a low rumble as he slowly works his way back up her body.

"It was a nice pre-show, an opening act if you will," Ginny says as her breathing evens, "But you know what we're all here for."

"All two of us?"

Grumbling, Ginny grasps his bum and drops her head back. "You are so obnoxious sometimes."

"Don't offend me," Harry answers, pushing up onto his palms and consequently putting entirely too much distance between them, "I'll pull on my pants and go have some tea and toast,"

"You forget how easily I can read your bluff right now," Ginny laughs, glancing down between them meaningfully, "Now off you go. Do your husbandly duty."

"So pushy already."

"Someone needs to start doing some pushing," Ginny almost whines as she wraps one leg around his hip and tugs him in. His arms weaken and he drops to his elbows, faced tucked against her neck. Then it's his turn to whimper her name softly. "You're such a minx."

She nips his ear and murmurs, "It's all for the best though, eh?"

One more roll of her hips and Harry's slow and steady wooing comes to a quick end, punctuated by their twin sighs of contentment, the slow give and take, until slow isn't enough and they're rushing toward the precipice together.

They're a heap of sated arms, legs, and what have you when Harry collapses against her with a chuckle. "Is this the honeymoon phase or just us?"

Ginny hums, massaging his neck. "Just us I think. Our honeymoon phase probably ended when I cleaned that weird oozing puss thing on your arse from the snake venom curse for a week."

Harry nuzzles her cheek before flopping sideways to his pillow. "My bum wasn't cute enough to make that worth it?"

"Not to be too disgustingly sweet," Ginny begins, brushing her thumb along his cheekbone, "But you're always worth it. Bum and all."

The shrill ring of the cottage doorbell interrupts whatever charming and probably fumblingly corny response Harry was going to drum up. Instead he groans and buries his head underneath his pillow. "I'm not home."

"Who even knows except - "

Harry stiffens. "Shit. Mum and Dad."

"You forgot about them," Ginny sing-songs, prodding his side before she slips from beneath the sheets.

Momentarily, Harry gets lost in following the sunlit curves of Ginny's back as she putters around, looking for some sort of clothing to sadly cover up said curves.

She's just started working his freshly laundered joggers over her hips when the doorbell rings again. "Bet Bill told them," Ginny says with all the maturity of a twelve year od after they've been tattled on, "He did everyone else."

Harry finally rolls from the bed and finds his pants and a t-shirt. "No - well maybe. But it's also brunch day. We always - well you know. I'll keep them busy while you make yourself look less…"

"Debauched?" Ginny tries, stepping toward the ensuite while she finger-combs her hair, "You might need to look in the mirror - check out those bites on your neck."

"My - " Harry reaches for his neck, feeling around blindly as a blush grows on his neck, "Well they know we snog by now."

"Just get out there, I'll - I dunno we can't keep this secret forever."

"Mum and dad are pretty good with discretion," Harry says.

"Did you forget what happened when you wrote that I kissed you in the common room?"

Harry pauses with his hand on the doorknob, "Impossible, but in their defense, I had been mooning over you a very long time."

"Aw, you had a crush on me."

"Gin, we're married."

She waves away his retort and Harry continues his mild defense of his parents' ability to keep secrets. "Anyway, I didn't ask them to keep a secret that time."

"Off you go then," Ginny says, shooing him out the door, "Go beg for your parents' silence."

Harry kisses her, short and sweet. "Should we be concerned that this starts with a bunch of deception?"

Ginny shrugs, "S'not forever. We'll worry about that later."

With a long, deep sigh, Harry steels himself for the next couple hours of his life, which will either be awkward followed by an enjoyable brunch, or a nightmare of familial angst. The bell rings again and Harry jogs the remainder of the distance and pulls the door open with a grin that hopefully doesn't scream 'I got surprise married and my wife is in the bedroom.'

The minute the door's open wide enough, Harry's engulfed in a classic Potter family hug. "Sorry i didn't get to you yesterday - had a debrief."

James snorts, "And then a debrief."

Harry almost swallows his own tongue before he gasps out, "What the fu-"

As she slips off her flats, Lily pats Harry's arm. "We know you probably wanted to see Ginny when you had the free time after being away. It's just hard. Three babies - well that's just it. You still feel like my babies."

James presses a kiss, smooth and easy, to her temple before he sets down the paper bag settled in his arm and nods to Harry. "We just came today for our usual."

Harry wraps his arm around Lily's shoulder and guides her into the kitchen, while James follows.

"So how is everything?" James asks with a suspicious level of casualness forced into his voice as he unpacks a carton of strawberries, "Usual?"

The milk carton currently tucked in the crook of Harry's arm nearly crashes to the tile floor when he jolts. He really should be much better at deception - he damn well is when it matters. At least when it matters in the grand scheme of things. But the more personally important, the less capable Harry is at keeping his cool. "Uh - everything's good! Er - great. Kingsley practically ordered me to take a few days off so that's nice."

While Lily gets a pat of butter sizzling in the pan, James begins rinsing berries and then slicing them in expert quarters. "Set out a pot for me Harry?"

With a flick of his wand, Harry sets a medium saucepan on the burner while James begins measuring milk, sugar, and cornstarch out with practiced ease.

As he sets the whisk stirring, Ginny rounds the corner and presses a smacking kiss to his cheek. "Hello James," she wraps an arm around Lily's waist and squeezes, "Three out of five Potters, what a treat - oh your vanilla magic."

"I still remember five year old Ginny Weasley, half toothless with sunburnt cheeks lisping her request for my 'vanilla magic.'"

Lily pats James' cheek. "He thought it was just the cutest thing - actually that's what prompted Evie and Alfie's arrival."

Harry winces.

"Don't be a baby," James says, lifting his wand to spill more ingredients into the warming pot. He glances at Harry, then Ginny, and finally Lily with whom he seems to have a silent and very intense conversation.

Finally he practically whines out, "Can't I?"

Lily waves her fingers in a sort of shooing 'go ahead then' gesture and James turns his attention back to Harry and Ginny. "We - "

"I know we usually do just us three," Harry says after a moment, sliding his hand into Ginny's, "We just - "

Lily slaps the spatula and groans, "The rings Harry."

"What?"

Ginny jabs Harry in the side and lifts her left hand, wriggling her fingers in front of his face. "We're a couple of geniuses, eh?"

Grimacing, Harry massages his temples, a headache already forming at - whatever stupid time of the morning it is. "Are we about to be murdered? Also, wasn't buying my own place supposed to come with some privacy?"

"What did you expect, smarty pants," Ginny chuckles, ruffling his hair when he drops his forehead to her shoulder, "Moving in next door."

James sets the vanilla sauce to cool and begins rooting around for a large serving bowl, muttering something about sons who need better servingware.

For her part, Lily simply rolls her eyes and flicks the stove back on. "You apparated next to the boundary line, dear. Our alarms went off last night."

A thud sounds as James smacks his head into the cabinet. He rises again, rubbing at the back of his head. "I saw some things a father should never see."

"We were dressed!" Harry yelps.

"Lucky for Bathilda," Lily says, twitching her wrist to flip omelette number one - half the classic swish and flick, "- or lucky for you for that matter because she is quite the busybody."

Harry groans and turns back to the worktop, staring pointedly at the orangey strips of cheese that glide from the grater

Ginny pats his shoulder, "Enough of that, be a good husband and make me an omelette." She turns to James, "Guess who got to test a new broom prototype for the Department of Mysteries?"

"No!" James slaps the wooden bowl down and stares at GInny, "And on top of the Harpies getting the new Firebolt?"

"It's in the shed - have a look?"

After they disappear, running and shoving like a couple of kids, Lily snorts and glances at Harry, "Jocks."

"Hey, I'm one too."

"Are you going to tell me you're on the same level?" Lily asks, "I played footie, started the Hogwarts intramural league even," Lily cracks some eggs and begins whisking them, "Still not a jock."

"Point taken."

"So."

Harry sighs and moves on to the green onions. "I'm sorry - we didn't plan."

Lily nudges him with her elbow and starts on omelette number two while the first settles. "Clearly."

"We just didn't want to wait."

"Again, got that," Lily sets the stove to a low heat and turns toward Harry, banding her arms around his shoulders, "I'm happy for you both, over the moon. Just - can we do something with the family?"

"Of course - "

"You want this mum to keep things mum for a bit?"

Harry laughs, "That was the worst thing I have ever heard."

"I know," Lily pats his cheek, "I also know I will only tempt Molly Weasley's ire for so long," Lily says, pulling away and aiming her finger right at his nose, "You'd better get your shit together."

"Mum!"

"It's going to be a fu-"

Harry jolts and puts his hand over her mouth. "Please!"

Lily flicks her wand, sets a breadloaf to slice. "You're such a baby! Aurors used to have a stronger stomach in my day."

"I - But you're my mum!"

"What has it got to do with my being a woman? Or a mum for that matter," Lily chuckles and tweaks his nose. "Careers more like. Aurors - quidditch players too - your dad was the cleanest of them all and he swears like...well."

Harry quirks his brow and Lily smirks, "Well, I'm sure you've noticed Ginny's tendencies by now."

"I - ew. God mum. Where do I even - are you trying to ruin my life?"

"Why the drama, love?"

"I am so glad you're back, Gin," Harry half shouts, dropping his head back, "Save me from my mum."

The door clicks shut under Ginny's palm and slowly Harry steps closer, settling his palms on either side of her shoulders, boxing her in. His forehead drops to her shoulder. "We need a honeymoon."

"Harder to arrange when the engagement lasts less than twelve hours," Ginny laughs.

Harry rubs his nose slowly her neck, breath coming in short, warm exhales.

Sighing, Ginny tilts her head, giving him free reign. But the contentment currently warming her veins will only last so long. Not surprising, with Harry so close. The line between comforting familiarity and everything set alight is fine indeed. "Harry, let me turn?"

He hums, lips finding the small snitch tattooed behind her ear. "I don't think so."

"Why?"

One hand drags up her front, slips beneath her t-shirt and Ginny lets out a low groan when his second hand follows, caressing, teasing. "I think this is going swimmingly as is, Gin."

"Harry - ah," she arches her back, letting her head droop against his chest. "What else do you think?"

He's already begun working the drawstring of her borrowed joggers, so Ginny's not too much in the dark as to Harry's thoughts. Just like she knew instantly last night the pale gold lace dress she bought in the second hand shop was a good choice the moment their eyes locked. But one thing she has learned over time is the utter and complete enjoyment she gets out of teasing and prodding Harry into trying to have a coherent conversation while she's in the process of getting disrobed.

"Gin."

"You and your mum seemed to be having a bit of a heart to heart," Ginny prods again, pushing her bum backward while his fingers flirt with the waistband of her knickers.

"No mum, please," Harry grunts against her shoulder, nipping at the freckled skin.

Finally, Ginny twists and pokes a finger against his chest. "We do need a chat, sir."

Harry groans, cupping her arse and pulling her flush against him. "Do we? We were having such a lovely time."

Ginny toys with his earlobe and breathes out quietly, "Yes. To the nice time. And the necessity of a chat."

"Gin - "

He's well and truly whinging at this point and Ginny is a little chuffed about it.

"I have a proposal though," Ginny says, tugging her joggers back up to sit at her waist. "Every important topic addressed gets one bit of something taken off."

Harry's brows rise in interest. "How many topics?"

Ginny taps her chin in thought. "Just the main one - it's got lots of smaller subtopics though so we'll be starkers before long."

"Main one?" Harry asks, stalking closer as Ginny backs down the hall, presumably toward the bedroom.

"Us, this, when we're telling the family, everyone else."

Harry winces.

"Trust me, the nudity will make it better," Ginny says with a wink, "Or at least be a nice thing to remember when my mum is destroying us."

After a long, leisurely afternoon, a lazy dinner cooked together wearing only the most necessary items of clothing, Harry and Ginny enjoy a gloriously relaxed evening. Their earlier discussions had as expected resulted in further enjoyment of the 'marriage bed' and thoroughly exhausted them both. That, and the necessary but slightly stress inducing conversation over when and how to let the Weasleys in on their shocking - but good - news.

In the end, being bold, daring Gryffindors - who have two out of four parents half sworn to secrecy - decided sooner is best and why not tell the family all at once over dinner?

Harry tries on a third shirt while Ginny drops backward on the hastily made bed with a groan. "Harry, dear, love of my life, I went home, showered, got dressed, and came back and you're still naked and half wet."

"Are you choosing to ignore the fact that I am in loads more danger than you?"

"Harry, shirt choice is not going to change things one way or another," Ginny says with a commiserating grin, "Just wear that tight black one that makes me go mad and at least you know things will end nicely when we come home later."

Harry turns, shirt clasped in one hand, with a soppy grin and a towel slipping down his hips. "Home, eh?"

"Yes," Ginny says, smacking a kiss to his lips, "Now get dressed, we don't want to be late."

"Supper's not - "

"I'm supposed to help mum with the gnomes first, you're coming early too. Brownie points. And a little buttering up too. Maybe we'll get to chat with her first."

Harry feels a bit better at the thought of facing some Weasleys on more of a one on one basis. A comfort he quickly loses when the green flames fall from view and he finds Bill settled on the floor with Victoire and Dominique and a pile of wooden play blocks.

"Ginny - and Harry," Bill narrows his eyes, "What a nice surprise."

"You don't get to be mad, Billiam," Ginny says with a sugar-sweet voice as she accepts hugs from her nieces and passes them off to Harry in turn, "You're a fu- darn tattle tale."

"Mature, Ginevra."

She stares at Bill a handful of seconds before she grabs Harry's arm and tugs him from the room, shouting a farewell over her shoulder. "You should help me and mum."

Molly's already hard at work, mud caked on her wellies, flyaway ginger and grey hairs about her sun-reddened face. Still, she lights up when Harry and Ginny appear in the garden, hand in hand. "Hello dears."

Ginny's 'hello mum' and Harry's 'afternoon Molly' overlap and Harry's heart pounds, sure that his awkward rush to greet Molly will instantaneously reveal his guilty mind.

Luckily, Harry's pessimism is incorrect and she simply envelopes them in a warm, slightly sweaty, embrace and begins giving orders like a general to her troops. Though Harry insists they could handle it and let her have a rest, Molly seems to enjoy a bit of light violence in the afternoon, winding up and tossing the interloping gnomes farther and with more expertise than Chudley's starting chasers.

His hidden wedding band is warm against his chest and Harry can't help but glance at the chain that disappears beneath Ginny's henley.

"How was brunch Harry?"

Harry jolts, ripping his eyes from their study of Ginny to focus on Molly. The question is surely innocent, mums talk, Lily's probably mentioned their tradition. And yet Harry, once again, feels his ingrained 'the worst will probably happen and even worse than you imagined' mindset beginning to rear its ugly head.

"Er - brunch. It was. Good?"

Ginny rolls her eyes, "Is that a question?" She looks toward Molly, "I crashed it by accident; think I should be offended at the obvious confusion on the pleasantness of the morning?"

Molly pats her arm. "Men are a bit flighty at times, don't take it to heart."

Then, her eyes dip from Ginny's face to her neck, follow the chain, and stay there. Her smile widens. "Oh did Harry bring you a - "

The sentence dies in Molly's throat as she lifts the chain from beneath Ginny's shirt, despite protests, and reveals the simple band twisting and glinting in the sunlight.

"Oh."

Ginny looks at Harry, shoulders tensed. For the first time since all this started unfolding, he's not the only one of the two of them about to have a heart attack. Perhaps it's immature, but he's glad to not feel batty for being nervous.

"Mum - "

"Molly we - "

Molly's lips purse. "You two have gone and done it then?"

"Well if you're thinking knocked over a jewelry shop, then no. But if you're thinking married then yes, got it in one, mum," Ginny sort of babbles out, punctuated with a nervous laugh.

"Smooth Gin," Harry mutters.

He draws in a deep breath and steps toward Molly. "I- it was my fault. Not that it's a bad thing, Gin and I. We - I love her and we just. After being apart these last weeks I got it in my head that we shouldn't be. Apart, that is," he clears his throat, "So I asked Ginny to marry me and she said yes."

"Clearly," Molly says, still staring at the ring as it twirls.

"And then - I was impatient for it to be real." Harry bites his cheek. "I don't regret it, except that in the rush, we may have hurt the families."

Ginny smiles at him softly, gives him that smile that says I love you in the silence.

"Mum, we want to have a - a something with everyone. At least a celebration like we would have if the marriage happened here too."

A large crash sounds from the back stoop followed by Bill's bellow of, 'The bloody what?' and finally the chorus of Victoire and Dominique chanting 'bloody bloody bloody' like a couple of tiny scary children.

Ginny's nerves quickly harden, her jaw tightening as she squares her shoulders and turns to face the door, where Arthur has finally regained his senses enough to clear up the shattered pottery. Bill hasn't moved beyond folding his arms over his chest.

Harry places a hand on Ginny's arm and darts his eyes between Arthur and Bill. "We're ma - "

"Oh you can damn well bet I know you're married," Bill rumbles.

"Calm down, William," Arthur says, quiet but firm. "Watch the language, your girls are here."

"Dad he - "

"I think we all know Ginny's not one to be forced," Arthur cuts in, setting the terracotta shards in a bin set against the house. "I suggest we wait and discuss it all with cool heads later."

"You can bet we'll - "

"Your mum and I."

Bill bites his lip and directs a scowl at Harry like he's hoping to burn right through him. Harry's almost wondering if he will when Molly moves, perhaps for the first time since she pulled the chain from beneath Ginny's collar. "The only talk we need now, is congratulations," she pulls Ginny and Harry into a tight hug, "It's not as though we're surprised about you two as an idea."

When she pulls away finally there are tears in her eyes. "We'll need a proper event for the family of course, and your friends. A celebration," Harry can already see the wheels turning and can't help but feel grateful for the small, quiet ceremony they have to remember.

"Nothing silly like a redo," Molly says, flapping her hands at the thought, "Just to let us all - have you told your mum and dad?"

Ginny smiles and presses a kiss to Molly's cheek. "We had brunch, mum."

"That's what you get, sneaking about and not planning a honeymoon," Molly says with a grin. "We can do a small family something or other tonight, I'll floo Lily and James - you two keep up with the gnomes," she bustles toward the house, "Arthur, the rest of the children - we want them all!"

Arthur grasps Molly's hand, smile crinkling his eyes behind smudged lenses. "Welcome to the family, Harry." He sends Ginny a wink, "Congratulations, love."

Once Molly and Arthur disappear into the crooked house with grandbabies in tow, it's just Harry, Ginny, Bill, the whisper of the early spring wind, and the gnome chewing on Harry's shoelace.

"Alright."

"You bet your arse alright, Bill," Ginny grumbles, "Mum's got the most right to be peeved with us and she's dealing."

"Oh I can be peeved all I want," Bill turns to Harry, "You're family now, officially. Families get peeved with each other. Welcome to the fun."

Harry snorts just as a quiet pop sounds from just beyond the garden gate.

Ginny sighs. "Well, I suppose that's one brother down and five to go."

A quiet sniff sounds from over Ginny's shoulder and the trio turn to find Percy waiting, uncharacteristically casual in trousers and a button up. He looks between the three of them and asks, "Five to go for what?"

"Guess who's married," Bill cuts in, sounding just a little bit excited at the prospect of what will surely be a dressing down on appropriate behavior when entering into marriage.

Instead he shrugs, tucking his hands into his pockets, "Harry and Ginny, obviously."

Bill's brows rise and Ginny relaxes, head resting on Harry's shoulder.

"Got the license yesterday afternoon," Percy grins, basking a bit in the glow of being in the know for once, "To be expected, I assumed."

Once he nears the door he turns back. "Don't be such a fusspot Bill."

While Bill stalks after Percy into the house, Ginny wraps her arms around Harry's middle. "That went alright, eh?"

Harry grins and presses a kiss to her hairline. "All's well, dear."