After Ginny left he paced the floor, kicking anything that got in his way. Then, while tending a sore foot, he cursed, using words that he'd never even heard Ron use.
Several times he considered going downstairs, waking Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and demanding to know where Ginny lived. Other times he considered rummaging around the house for a bottle of Firewhiskey, but decided that would not be the best course of treatment. If Mrs. Weasley found him with a hangover tomorrow he wouldn't like explaining why he'd gotten drunk in the first place.
So, he paced while angry thoughts continued to fill his head. Why would Ginny leave like that?
Had he hurt her? Said something wrong? Expected too much? It was true that he had been warned about some of his expectations. At times it was hard to remember that life had gone on without him.
When at last Harry collapsed from sheer exhaustion, he fell asleep but experienced the most fitful sleep he had in days. Cedric Diggory. The cemetery. Dementors. Sirius falling through the curtain at the Department of Mysteries. The Final Battle. And all the while, that high, cold mirthless laugh.
Harry awoke in what he guessed was late afternoon. However, it was only 9:45. He'd only sleep a few short hours. He barely had the presence of mind to put one foot in front of the other as he shuffled, slowly, down the stairs.
He had neglected to put a shirt on, not really caring whether Mrs. Weasley saw him with a shirt or not, but as he neared the bottom of the stairs, he heard voices engaged in conversation. Harry stopped on the last landing, considering whether or not he should return upstairs for a shirt. He finally deduced that the voice was Hermione's and shrugged. He didn't really care, she had seen him in far worse conditions and modesty wasn't so much of an issue after spending five years in a coma.
Harry stepped into the kitchen in the midst of conversation and abruptly came to a stop inside the door. He squinted around the bright, cheery kitchen and crossed his arms over his chest upon seeing Mrs. Weasley and Hermione sitting at the table drinking tea.
"Harry!" They both greeted him in voices that were far too happy for this time of the day.
"Morning." he grumbled, sinking into the nearest chair and laying his head down on the table.
"Didn't you sleep well then dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked with parental concern.
A grunt came from where Harry's mouth was pressed against the table.
"Shall I get you some tea then Harry?" Hermione questioned sweetly, resting a hand on his forearm.
"No, thank you. You sit, I'll get it."
Molly and her daughter in law exchanged a worried glance as Harry pushed himself away from the table and went to fetch the tea. Hermione decided to draw her friend out of his melancholy mood.
"I was rather hoping you'd feel up to visiting Diagon Alley with me today Harry. I still need to pick some things up for the babies."
Harry spun around so quickly he poured hot tea on Mrs. Weasley's kitchen floor. "Yes!" He answered with a strange amount of enthusiasm for running such a mundane errand.
Harry looked down at the wet floor. "Oh, sorry Mrs. Weasley."
"It's nothing dear." She answered with a quick Scourgify charm.
"Yes, I'll go with you Hermione. I need to buy some new things anyway."
Harry gulped down what little tea was poured into his cup. "I'll be ready in fifteen minutes."
Molly and Hermione watched him race out of the kitchen and heard the footfalls on the stairs.
"What's gotten into him?" Hermione wondered aloud, rising from a creaky wooden chair and scourgifying hers and Harry's teacups.
Molly patted her chest sentimentally. "The poor dear, bless his hear. He's been cooped up for five years with only his own thoughts and memories. I think he just wants to live again. To find out what he's missed."
Hermione sighed. She kenw Harry too well. There was an ulterior motive brewing here. "He has missed more than he can possibly imagine."
Molly Weasley knew precisely what Hermione had insinuated. Ginny.
"Indeed dear, that's true, but it won't do to keep lying to him. It's far past the time for her to tell him."
--------------------
True to his word Harry reappeared downstairs in fifteen minutes wearing the same Chudley Cannons T-shirt and jeans he wore yesterday.
"Ready?" He asked, tucking his shiny Gringott's key into his pocket.
"Would you rather Floo or Apparate Harry? Do you feel comfortable Apparating?" Hermione asked, waiting for Harry in front of the Fireplace.
Harry sighed and glanced at the two women for input. "I guess it would be a good test location." Harry rationalized, not wanting to Floo too badly.
"I'm not trying to rush you Harry."
A small smile escaped his lips. "Don't worry Hermione I won't splinch myself. I'll meet you in front of Gringotts."
Harry felt his pocket for the small golden key that would open his vault.
"All right, do be careful Harry." He smiled and successfully disapparated with a small pop.
-------------------------------------
Diagon Alley was bustling with all sorts of activities. Busy enough that a fully pregnant witch and the most popular wizard alive blended right in with the crowd.
Hermione did not descend into the depths of Gringotts with Harry, but instead quickly visited the Apothecary.
Later, they met up at Madame Malkins and between the two of them, nearly bought the store out. Harry truly bought robes for all occasions. Dress robes, work robes, everyday robes and anything else he thought he might need. He made a mental note to nip into Muggle London for a pair of his favourite jeans. Hermione bought lots of baby clothes in varying colours- no pink or blue. She and Ron wanted to be surprised when the twins were born and had no idea about the baby's gender.
Hermione suggested as they left Madame Malkins that they should stop at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes to see if Fred and George fancied accompanying them to Fortescue's for ice cream.
Harry had tried his best all day to keep Hermione in a good mood, asking her about her pregnancy. He hoped, that in turn, she would answer the questions he had. It was rather exciting to hear Hermione prattle on about her pregnancy- at times telling him more information than he needed to know.
There was no bell on the door at number 93 Diagon Alley, instead, a rooster crowed loudly.
"That would get annoying quickly." Harry grumbled to Hermione, who sighed.
The store was at best organized chaos, at worst, a parent's nightmare. Harry thought it was damn near perfect. Horribly annoying noises, smells and sights flooded the senses.
"You ready for all these things, Mum?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and did not look amused.
Children ran hectically about the store, presenting the ingenious inventions to their parents amidst the sounds of explosions and clouds of smoke billowing up from the cellar.
"Must be an experimentation day." Hermione declared, navigating the aisles carefully, holding her arms around her precious cargo.
She led them down a narrow, winding, spiral staircase to Fred and George's laboratory.
"Halt! Who goes there?" Came a voice from a cloud of foul smelling green gas.
"It's Hermione and Harry." She replied sweetly.
"What's the password?" Another voice called out.
"Password?" Harry whispered over Hermione's shoulder, shifting his weight on the creaky stairs.
"C'mon Fred, we go through this every time." Hermione lamented.
"If you're really our Sister in law, you'll know the password."
Hermione whined, but whispered a response.
"Ickle Ronnikins."
When the laughed subsided, one of the twins replied. "OK, you may enter."
Hermione and Harry trudged the rest of the way down the rickety stairs.
"Ah, extended family. How smashing to see you."
"You too. Harry and I wondered if you'd like to join us for ice cream."
Fred and George finally came into view, decked out in identical while lab coats and safety goggles.
"Cravings Hermione?" George questioned, raising his eyebrows and nudging Harry's side.
"No, well, yes." Hermione contradicted, stamping her foot. "It's hot outside."
"Snack break Fred?"
"I think so George. We'll meet you down at Fortescue's."
"The shop looks brilliant." Harry declared, looking around the haze for some new, top secret invention.
"Thanks Harry." The twins uttered in unison.
Hermione sighed, very ready to sit down for a while. "Fine. See you in a few minutes."
"Jolly good." George chimed.
"Cheerio." Fred concluded.
Harry and Hermione wound their way upstairs through the shop and back out to Diagon Alley. Harry wasn't sure that he would have the chance to be alone with Hermione again, so he hesitantly began their conversation while walking to Fortescue's.
He took a deep breath and dodged in and out of busy people on the street.
"So what's up with Ginny these days?"
Hermione spun quickly to look at Harry. "Er, what do you mean Harry?"
He absentmindedly shifted his bags from one hand to the other and ran his free hand through his black hair.
"I mean one minute everything is fin and normal and the next minute she's rushing out on me."
Hermione knit her brows together in confusion. "What do you mean by normal Harry?"
He felt flushed. This was rather embarrassing. He moved a little closer to Hermione and continued their way side by side down the street.
"Oh c'mon Hermione, you, er, you've done these things before." He jerked his thumb at her engorged stomach.
"You did that?" Hermione asked as her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open.
"No!" Harry answered vehemently, continuing their way through the crowd. He resigned himself to tell his friend the truth. "But it wasn't for a lack of me wanting to." Harry was glad he could see Fortescue's up ahead.
"What about Ginny? Did she, um, want to?"
"Oh this is weird." Harry admitted, stepping onto the stone patio of the ice cream parlour.
"Well," Hermione sighed, "I need to, er, know some of these things if I'm to, um, give proper judgement."
She was blushing a horrible shade of red as she set her packages down at a table under a red and white umbrella.
Harry groaned audibly and set his own parcels down. "This is so embarrassing."
"Would you rather talk to Molly about it? I'm sure she has great advice." Hermione retorted in a cheeky voice.
"Ok, so here's the truth." Harry launched into the previous night's events with Ginny. "We've been close to being, um, er…" He stalled, putting his head down on the table and banged it a few times before continuing.
"intimate."
Harry looked up at Hermione hoping to see something other than repugnance. He was satisfied though that she looked like a Muggle psychiatrist.
"Intimate, yes, go on Harry."
He finished, explaining that things had been progressing and she had bolted.
Harry was suddenly fanning himself and sweating quite a lot. Was it really that hot today?
Hermione forced a smile. "Things change Harry. People change. It was really horrible to have you absent from our lived for so long. Ginny suffered a lot, and don't start feeling guilty because it's not your fault. It's not Ginny's fault either. We all know the blame for everything lies at V-Voldemort's feet. For the first couple weeks after the battle Ginny was a zombie or something. She didn't talk, eat, smile- nothing. And then all of a sudden she just decided to get busy. She was going to be sure that when you got well, she would be too."
She paused, letting her words penetrate Harry's mind.
"I think it's going to take Ginny some time to sort herself out again. Remember, for us, one month ago you were comatose. Be patient, understand that Ginny's changed and grown up without you."
Hermione could tell by the look on Harry's face that he was hurt. She had tried to be honest without betraying her Sister in law, but she didn't want Harry thinking everything was sunshine and roses either.
She sympathetically grabbed Harry's hand across the table and gave it a squeeze. "Ginny cares deeply for you, Harry, don't doubt that. It's just going to take some time for her to say what you need to hear. Give her a little space."
They were interrupted by two redheads cavorting down the street and at the same time Harry heard his name being whispered over his shoulder.
"Hello Mr. Potter."
It was Olivia Ollivander.
"Miss, er, Olivia. Call me Harry."
Harry rose to meet Olivia and shook her hand politely. "It's nice to see you again."
She beamed, "You too Harry."
Olivia's hair was tied up in a ponytail, exposing a little more of her angled face. The blue eyes still twinkled.
"Where's the redheaded bird?" She asked, taking a lick of her ice cream cone intermittently throughout the conversation.
Harry blushed. "Eh, work." He changed the subject quickly. "This is my friend Hermione Gr- Weasley. She's married to my friend Ron. Hermione, this is Olivia Ollivander."
Hermione did not rise to meet the striking woman who extended a friendly hand.
"It's nice to meet you Miss Ollivander." Her reply was short and concise.
"Likewise."
Fred and George finally made their appearances. "Miss Ollivander, how lovely to see you." Fred greeted her with raised eyebrows.
"Hello gents." Olivia returned their salutation, but her eyes never left Harry's.
"Nice day." George offered, staring openly at the brunette.
"Amazing. You never know who you might see in Diagon Alley."
She took a long, slow lick if the ice cream cone. "Well, I guess I'd best be off. I've left my brother Owen in charge. It was really nice to see you again Harry."
Olivia winked exaggeratedly and threw her long, mahogany coloured ponytail over her shoulder. She began walking away and suddenly stopped almost expectantly.
"Fancy a date Olivia?" George called out to her.
The reply came almost before he had asked the question. "No thank you." She turned around and merely looked over her shoulder.
Fred was trying to contain fits of laughter, George was blushing worse than Harry had ever seen Ron colour, Hermione was clearly in shock of her Brother in law, and Harry caught Olivia's bright azure eyes staring pointedly at his.
"Bye." She replied in an almost sing-song voice and continued on her way.
That's the seventeenth time she's turned me down." George decalred, slumping down into the nearest chair.
"No, eighteenth." Fred corrected him. "You asked her out last Friday, remember?"
George looked up, ticking off his fingers and silently adding the numbers in his head. "Too right."
"George, your engaged!" Hermione spat out, scolding him from across the table.
He shook his head half-heartedly "I can't help it. If I didn't know better I'd swear she was part Veela or something."
"Who cares!" Fred replied. "Let's talk about the obvious crush she's got on Harry here."
"She does not." Harry disagreed. "Besides, I'm with Ginny."
Fred, George and Hermione all turned to look at him.
"What?" He snapped, regarding the aghast faces.
Naturally it was Hermione who rebounded first. "I'm dying for some chocolate Harry. Be a dear and get me a hot fudge sundae?"
She smiled innocently as Harry rose from his chair. "And a strawberry milkshake too." She uttered quickly before he walked away.
As the twins scrambled out of their seats to join Harry, Hermione elevated her tired feet, resting them on Harry's chair. She decided that she would have a few words with her Sister in law.
----------------------------
Harry spent the next few evenings quietly at the Burrow with Arthur and Molly. There was a heavy, uncomfortable silence as they sat around th large kitchen table. With every creak and crack heard in the old house Harry's eyes widened in hope. It did not go un-noticed by Molly and Arthur.
He sat at the table, slowly pushing around the food on his plate, silently wishing the fireplace would roar to life and Ginny would stumble out.
"Harry dear, eat something. You need to keep your strength up." Molly said in a sympathetic tone.
Harry feigned a smile and avoided her eyes. "I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley, I'm just not very hungry tonight. I think I'll just go upstairs and lie down."
The torture and angst that Harry felt increased with each heavy step as he trudged up the stairs to his dark, lonely room.
Hermione Apparated into Ginny's kitchen. The house was unnaturally quiet. Except for the fact that the house smelled of scorched food, Hermione would have guessed that no one had been here in days. The curtains were drawn, all the lights were off, and generally appeared shut up.
"Gin?" Hermione called softly, stepping with hesitance through the kitchen, peering around corners.
"Ginny? It's Hermione. Are you here?" Hermione raised her eyebrows, straining to listen for a reply.
The soft sound of sobbing could be heard from elsewhere in the house. Hermione cleared her throat and called out a little louder.
"Ginny?"
Ginny sniffled loudly and rolled off the couch, wiping her face with the back of her hand.
"Hermione?"
The two women met between the kitchen and the living room and each took stock of the other.
Hermione looked exhausted. There were dark circled under her brown eyes and her shoulders were slumped and rounded forward.
Ginny's face was blotchy and red. Her eyes were swollen and puffy. Ginny's lips trembled when Hermione extended her arms.
"I came over here to give you a piece of my mind, but I can see you've tortured yourself quite enough for one day." Hermione declared, taking her Sister in law into her arms. "Harry's a mess too you know."
"What? He is?" Ginny asked, stunned. She grabbed Hermione's shoulders and held her away at arm's length. "Where? Where is he?"
She was yelling and gazing intently into Hermione's startled eyes.
"Just a minute Ginny. I'm not telling you anything until you make a few confessions." Hermione answered strongly, matching her stare. "You can't keep doing this Ginny. He's hurting. I've been talking with him."
"W-What did he say?"
Hermione raised her eyebrows looking at Ginny sceptically and put her hands on her hips. "What does Dean think of all this Gin?"
Ginny laughed vacantly. "Well, let's face it. If I haven't been honest with Harry I've been doubly deceiving Dean and he's downright angry about it. He's working now more than ever, but he won't give up. I became a different person without Harry, Dean got to know that person that I was. Then Harry woke up and changed everything all over again. I had almost completely resolved myself to the fact that he was never waking up, that life would go on, not as I had planned it, but nevertheless it would continued.
"I might have looked all right on the outside, but I closed off so many feelings for fear of disappointment and just the sense of loss I experienced with Harry. The only people who ever knew the truth, about how I felt for Harry, were you and Mum. I don't even think Harry had any idea how much I loved him. Hermione, I made promises I didn't keep. No one knows what I feel like inside. Two senses of duty or obligation, two completely different kinds of love, two different places in my life." Ginny shook her head. "No. No one knows."
"Ginny, I'm not here to condemn you. You're a mess, but you need to tell Harry- something. I don't want to do this, but I will tell him myself if you don't."
"You wouldn't?" Ginny declared accusatorily.
"I would." Hermione defended herself. "But I don't want to. He needs to hear it from you."
Ginny sighed desperately and faced Hermione again. "I'll beg on bended knee, please don't tell Harry."
"Ginny - "
A light dawned on Ginny's face. "When are the twins due?" She didn't wait for an answer, but interlaced her fingers in Hermione's and placed them over her heart. "Hermione, please. Just give me until after the Christening. I don't think you hardly want us fighting at the party, do you? Just give me that time, please?"
Hermione shook her head slowly and gave Ginny's hands a squeeze. "Ginny, I don't know, it's only prolonging the inevitable. I think you should tell him now."
Ginny countered immediately. "Hermione, please? Give me this last week or two. I'll right this. I'll fix it."
Slow, warm, silent tears traced a path down Ginny's cheeks. "At least tell me where he is."
"At the Burrow. Your Mum said he wouldn't eat any dinner and went straight to up bed."
Ginny instantaneously dropped her Sister in law's hands and fetched her wand from a nearby table.
"Ginny, I didn't agree to anything. Wait!" Hermione called out, but Ginny had already Apparated away.
--------------------------------------
Ginny Apparated directly into Ron's old bedroom at the Burrow. It was completely dark and she mistakenly stumbled over something she hadn't taken into account.
"Bloody hell." She grumbled, tucking her wand into her pocket.
"Whosit?" Harry gasped, sitting straight up in bed. Ginny heard the bedsprings creak and knew what direction to move.
"It's only me Harry."
"Ginny!" The relief and happiness were brimming over in his voice.
"Shh, silly. Do you want to wake up Mum and Dad?"
Harry didn't answer her as he was sure that his heart had stopped it's routine beating, and when he heard the zipper on Ginny's jeans, he was sure that the lungs that processed life's precious air had ceased breathing for him.
Ginny let her jeans pool around her feet and continued to make her way through the darkness. "Budge over." She whispered as Harry felt her weight rest on the mattress.
He complied slowly with her request, afraid that if he moved too quickly he would awaken to find he'd been in a wonderful dream.
"Am I dreaming?"
Ginny laughed softly and pulled the covers back. "Why do you ask?"
"Well," Harry confessed nervously. "This is a bit different than the conditions you left under last time."
Ginny settled in next to him and pulled the covers up. She was suddenly glad the cloak of night hid her embarrassment and the treachery that was bound to be evident on her face.
"Harry, I'm overwhelmed, not unlike you. Even though I prayed everyday that you'd come back to me, it's still a shock."
Harry could feel the smoothness of her bare leg resting gently against his own. It was lovely.
"I suppose that's fair. Hermione told me the exact same thing."
Ginnny rolled over to face Harry and spoke again. "It's unfair, I know. I'm just hoping you can try and understand why we all act the way we do."
Harry sighed quietly facing Ginny as well. "I know. Just try and understand things from my point of view too. In my mind I just took my N.E.W.T.S., was about to graduate, and about to defeat the dark - "
"Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"Shut up."
"Right."
Ginny hurriedly took Harry's face in her hands and kissed him. Her lips rested gently on his, waiting for acceptance to rejection.
The lightness of Ginny's lips barely touching Harry's was agony and ecstasy at the same time. With deliberateness, Harry reached toward her in the black of night and casually wound an arm around her. He spread his fingers apart, feeling the thin material of her shirt and suddenly grasped it firmly, taking a handful of the material, wrinkling it as he pulled her against his own body.
Ginny inhaled sharply, completely caught off guard by his advance. She countered him like a wildfire, capturing his mouth in an even deeper kiss, parting his lips and enticing his tongue into exploring hers.
Harry's senses were pleasantly overwhelmed. The room was predominantly dark, but he could see the moonlight reflecting off the fire in Ginny's hair. It glowed like warm embers.
The smell of Ginny's skin was intoxicating. Oranges and ginger. Sweet and a little spicy. Just like her. The aroma made him want to taste her even more. His lips travelled away from her mouth to the tender skin of her throat and neck. He nipped sharply at the delicate flesh, causing it to sting. Harry compassionately soothed each love bite with a brush of his lips and a stimulating flicker of his tongue.
The sound of Ginny's soft gasps and sighs were like music to Harry's ears. He wanted to hear them over and over like a favourite song.
Her increased breaths caressed his skin, her fingers curled tightly around locks of his hair, her leg hooked around his and their hearts thundered some kind of tribal, primal beat against one another's, rounding out Harry's sensory perception.
After five years of feeling no emotions, he desired each sensation more than the last.
Harry broke the kiss and leaned down over Ginny's body. Their chests rose and fell rapidly, trying to gain their breath. Ginny felt his hands work under the hem of her shirt and began to explore the warm flesh it covered. His hands drifted upward, causing her to jump when his thumbs grazed her ticklish ribs. She laughed in a breathy voice, letting her breath caress Harry's skin. Harry's hands continued over rib cage and then paused.
Harry took a deep breath, the moonlight cast a friendly beam of brilliant light across his pillowcase, it was just enough light to see her. His eyes burned into Ginny's seeking silent permission for what he desperately wanted to do.
Ginny was so close to Harry's face, that even in the dark, she could see the variegation in his green eyes, see every crease in his lips and feel his soft breath. His fingertips were poised at the edge of the lacy bra she was wearing. Ginny's mind raced, Merlin knew this was wrong. Dean was probably waiting for her at home wanting the same thing Harry did.
She gently drew the back of her hand down Harry's cheek. Could he ever forgive her? She threw caution to the wind and kissed him forcefully, giving him the permission he wanted.
Harry's hands instantly crept over the lower edge of her bra and grasped her breasts. His lips pressed against hers and blocked the moan that desperately wanted to escape Ginny's mouth.
Her hands trailed down Harry's face, down his neck, over his chest, and to the hem of his own shirt. She temporarily broke their kiss and pulled away from his body. Confusion registered on Harry's face, but Ginny's reassuring smile wiped his fears away.
At the tug of his shirt, Harry dropped his hands from Ginny's chest and let them slide down her torso. Ginny slowly pulled the shirt over Harry's head and cast it aside. As soon as Harry's arms were free of the garment, he was reaching for Ginny's shirt once again. His eyes didn't ask for permission this time. The shirt was lifted from her body and joined his in the pile on the floor.
He slowly brought his lips down to Ginny's, crushing them in a hot embrace, and his hands quickly sought out the warmth of her body, returning to the softness of her breasts. His lips left a trail of kisses from Ginny's mouth, down over her collarbone to her cleavage.
Ginny gasped loudly, raking her fingers through his dark hair, clutching him to her. His lips were on her skin, burning such intensity and emotion into her flesh. She wanted more. Ginny could feel Harry's growing desire pressing against her and knew he wanted more too.
As lovely as it felt to have his lips currently nibbling their way down the centre of her chest, Ginny wanted to see his beautiful green eyes and feel his lips on hers.
She guided him back to eye level, and shared a smile before Harry pressed his lips to hers and spoke in a hushed, urgent tone.
"Make love to me Gin."
Ginny froze. Harry had just uttered the statement she'd waited five years to hear. His lips were still pressed against hers, creating a wonderful vibration when he spoke. She could feel his bare chest bearing heavily against her nearly exposed skin. His hands excited her body, and his eyes excited her mind. Those green eyes are just about as sexy as all the rest of Harry put together. Ginny pondered. She'd never seen eyes like that. Eyes that could speak volumes with one glance.
Harry playfully nipped at her lips while he awaited her reply.
Ginny savoured the feeling of his kisses, her eyes still closed, unaware that a solitary tear trailed down her face.
Harry's thumb caressed her cheek, feeling the moisture and instantly knew something was wrong. Only when Harry smeared the teardrop did Ginny realize she was crying.
"Gin, what's wrong?" Harry whispered, sitting up and gently sweeping a coppery lock of hair behind her ear.
Why now? Why? Ginny agonized as another tear rolled down her cheek. "I don't know." she replied. It was not altogether untrue. Her conscious mind had been here with Harry, about to tell him that yes, she would make love to him. Dean had not even entered her psyche, the only thing on her mind was Harry.
"Honestly, I don't know. I'm just so overwhelmed Harry."
"I'm sorry." He whispered again.
Ginny sniffled and laughed softly. "What are you sorry for? You're not the one crying."
"Just because I'm ready to make love to you doesn't mean you're ready to make love to me again yet. I guess I can understand that. Kinda like when we were first together. I was ready, and waited for you. I'll wait for you again."
He cradled her face in his hand and drew her close, resting his forehead on hers. "It's all right."
Ginny kissed him, letting the fullness of her lips press firmly against his. "I don't want to go home." She whispered.
Harry laid down quickly and drew her into the space next to him. "I don't want you to go home either."
Ginny curled up against his body, hooked one leg around his, draped an arm around his waist and rested her head on his chest. Harry could feel her eyelashes batting against his skin as she slowly drifted off to sleep.
--------------------------------------------
Harry was surprised and disappointed to find Ginny gone when he awoke the following morning. A roll of parchment laid on his nightstand with his name written in Ginny's loopy handwriting. Little hearts surrounded his name. At first the note had panicked him- a Dear John letter? But then he smiled, noticing she had taken the time to add the hearts around his name.
Harry unrolled the paper and began reading.
Dear Harry,
Sorry about this morning. I got up to use the loo and encountered Mum in the hallway. I didn't want to tell her I spent the night with you, so I told her I'd just Apparated over to see if you were awake yet.
I won't be around much for the next few days. My schedule at St. Mungo's changed and I'll be working a weeks worth of nights. 3rd shift- yech! I'll OWL when I can. Have a good week, love.
Love,
Ginny
Harry smiled and collapsed back into bed, clenching the scroll in his hand and laid his head where Ginny's had rested on his pillow. He wasn't given much time to relish in the memory of holding her all night, as there was a knock on the door.
Mrs. Weasley had come upstairs to approach Harry about spending some time helping Hermione at home. Ron was putting in extra hours at the Ministry in anticipation of the twins birth. Poor Hermione was ordered to spend the duration of her pregnancy on bed rest, and was not adapting well to her new restrictions.
Harry saw the opportunity as two fold. It gave him the chance to replay his two best friend for the favours they had selflessly done for him, and it helped to put Ginny out of Harry's mind, if only for a few moments at a time. Last night Ginny had politely declared that she needed some space and time to process the changes that had occurred during the last five years. Harry was trying to five Ginny the time and space she evidently needed. It felt awkward and lonely, but if it would help bring them back together - Harry thought it was worth it.
Of all the times Harry had visited The Burrow, he had never really ventured into Ottery St. Catchpole, or beyond it. Ron and Hermione lived on the opposite side of town from Arthur and Molly, and of all the Weasley children, they lived the closest to home. It was a warm, sunny day and Harry and Molly agreed to walk to Ron and Hermione's.
The same red, dirt road that ran past The Burrow wove its way through the countryside into the small, Muggle town and off toward Stoatshead Hill. The River Otter and its small streams cut though the patchwork of fields.
Molly didn't need to point out the Weasley house to Harry, he recognized it immediately. A modest farmhouse popped out of the gentle hills on a particularly sharp curve of the old, dirt road.
Harry and Mrs. Weasley turned and approached the house which sat at the end of a rather long driveway.
A bandy, legged orange cat lept out of the hedgerow, capturing Harry's pant legs in its claws.
"Ow!" Harry yelped, looking down to see his attacked and the source of his pain. "Crookshanks?"
"Yes, he loves it out here, don't you Crookshanks? Silly thing." Hermione's voice broke the early morning air from where she stood on the front porch, holding a cup of tea.
"What are you doing out of bed then dear?" Molly questioned, watching Crookshanks run up ahead to greet his mistress.
"Just seeing Ron off and getting some tea. Don't worry, I'll go straight back to resting. Good morning Harry."
"Morning."
A holler could be heard from inside the house.
"Hermione! Where are my bloody socks?"
Harry noticed Molly's frown and her increase in speed as she neared the house. She stepped onto the porch and quickly gave Hermione a peck on the cheek before barging into the house.
"Ronald Weasley! How dare you ask your wife, the mother of your children, for favours. She ought to be in bed, not catering to you!"
Harry could clearly see Hermione smirking from behind her cup of tea.
"Why Mrs. Weasley, do I detect a hint of amusement?" Harry asked, standing at the edge of the porch.
Hermione laughed, gesturing for Harry to enter the house. "Oh, but don't I have the most wonderful Mother in law? Honestly, I do. I never have to put my husband in his place because Molly does it for me."
Harry stepped inside the house and took in his surroundings. Everything was perfect. The house was clean and everything was it its place. It seemed a comforting mixture of Muggle and Magic.
Ron entered the room by clunking down the stairs. "Love, have you seen my tie? Oh, hiya Harry."
Harry waved and smiled while Hermione spoke again. "It's where you left it dear."
Ron's face looked anguished at he tried to remember. He did not want to ask his wife the next inevitable question.
"And where would that be?"
Hermione shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and took a sip of tea. She was going to make him sweat this one out.
"If you put things where they belong, you'd always be able to find them Ronald."
Harry grinned. This was too much. Ron had begun searching in impracticable places for the tie: in the plants, in the refrigerator, in his pockets.
"Oh c'mon Hermione. Please? You don't want your beloved husband to lose his job now, do you? I swear I'll put it away next time- Harry, this isn't funny!"
Harry's sniggering had finally given way, he couldn't contain it any longer. "Sorry mate, but it is funny. You've walked past the bloody thing ten times."
He pointed to a tie, bearing the Ministry Crest, hanging on the doorknob, to what Harry guessed was a closet at the foot of the stairs.
"Oh, right." Ron conceded, grabbing the tie and hastily slinging it around his neck. He picked up his briefcase from the floor and stepped toward Hermione with a smile.
"Have a good day, love. Take it easy. I'm leaving Harry in charge, and I don't want a bad report. He can dock house points you know."
Harry grinned as Ron kissed Hermione's lips quickly then bent down to kiss her stomach. "You be good too." He added as an afterthought to his unborn children. "Leave Mum alone." He patted her belly tenderly.
"What, don't I get one?" Harry joked as Ron prepared to Apparate away.
Hermione erupted in laughter as Ron scowled. "Shut it you." Ron snapped, before turning back to Hermione. "Rest, and don't wait up for me.
"Hey mate, thanks ahead of time for all your help today."
With a smile he Disapparated away.
"Fancy a tour?"
"What?" Harry asked, still gazing around the room. His eyes returned to Hermione, who looked at him expectantly. "Er, do you think it's a good idea?" Harry's eyes shifted down to midsection.
Hermione screwed up her face in disbelief. "Harry, I'm fine. You sound like the rest of them. You're supposed to be on my side."
Thankfully there was a note of amusement in her voice.
"All right then." Harry replied.
The living room was warm and cozy, so unlike the house he grew up in. Ron and Hermione's was spotless, but still looked lived in and inviting. It held the same positive vibe as the Burrow, but without the clutter.
As the two entered the kitchen, Harry began to wonder who it was that cooked.
Two things had always alluded Hermione all these years- cooking and flying.
"Ah, Hermione, who cooks?" Harry questioned, jerking his thumb over at the stove.
"Ha ha." Came her cheeky reply. "I'll have you know I've gotten a sight better at cooking, thanks to my Mother in law."
Harry smiled and held up his hands defensively. "OK, OK, I believe you." She couldn't be any worse than Hagrid had been. Ron was taller and a few pounds heavier than he was five years ago."
The small dining room and the adjacent room, Hermione's office, had the nicest views.
Hermione's office held dozens of books, files and loose papers, all in their proper places, of course. A large window enhanced the handsome room. A small creek ran behind the property, giving Hermione a lovely and inspiring view form her study.
Ron and Hermione's bedroom was on the first floor of the farmhouse. Harry blushed when Hermione indicated to the room at the foot of the stairs. He did not want to see the bedroom that belonged to his childhood friends- even if they were married now.
Harry could hear Mrs. Weasley humming upstairs somewhere. He gestured for Hermione to ascend the stairs first and he quickly followed behind her. Hoping optimistically that she would not lose her footing.
"Hermione dear! What are you doing?" Molly demanded when Hermione entered the room nearest the stairwell.
"Just giving Harry the tour Molly." She replied offhanded.
Harry climbed the final step and followed Hermione into, which was obviously the nursery.
The babies' room was a pale blue with magically twinkling stars, orbiting planets and a rising sun and moon painted on the walls.
Molly was busy folding sheets and blankets for the identical, unassembled cribs in the room. She quickly sent Hermione to bed and put Harry to work around the house. While he worked he really didn't have time to think of Ginny, but occasionally she invaded his mind.
In the late afternoon, long after lunch, Hermione called Harry downstairs. "I'm in here!" She called, as he passed her room at the foot of the stairs.
Harry felt himself colouring warmly as he entered the bedroom.
A large four poster bed cradled Hermione, covered in a blue and white gingham check comforter. Harry noticed a large, navy blue leather bound book lying next to her.
"Er, what's up?" Harry asked shyly, shifting his eyes downward.
"Oh Harry, come off it." Hermione scoffed, dismissing his embarrassment with a hand wave. "I've been in your room hundreds of times."
He mumbled his acknowledgement as Hermione continued along.
"I thought you might like this." She lifted the large book with both hands and held it out for him. "Ginny, Ron and I made it for you."
Harry cautiously took the book and saw Hermione pat the empty space next to her on the bed.
"What is it?" Harry wondered aloud, forgetting his shyness and taking the seat next to his friend. He opened the book as Hermione resumed.
"We started it just after the final battle. Ginny, Ron and me. It's a scrapbook of sorts, about all the things you've missed. Newsclippings, photographs, letters, all kinds of things."
Harry swallowed hard. He stared down at the leather bound album, seeing the title of the first article from the Daily Prophet.
HARRY POTER DEFEATS DARK LORD!
Boy Who Lived Lies In Coma At St. Mungo's!
Harry's eyes shifted down to the moving photograph near the center of the page. The picture showed Hogwart's Castle in the background, the foreground crawled with 6th and 7th year students, Hogwarts faculty, and members of the Order of the Phoenix, all fighting Death Eaters, Dementors, and Voldemort himself. Hexes and curses zoomed across the photo. Harry looked underneath the picture to read the caption.
Photo taken by Colin Creevey, Hogwarts student, deceased June 20, 1998.
Is that really what it looked like? Harry wondered as he noticed a particularly moody picture of himself on the page from 7th year. He finally could see that he'd aged over the last five years too.
"I always knew you'd wake up Harry." Hermione smiled and reached out to pat his back. "And I knew it would be me who gave you the history lesson."
"I was kinda starting to wonder what I've missed." Harry confessed.
"Take it home, it's all yours. Look it over and tomorrow you can ask me about any questions you might have."
Tears welled up in Harry's eyes as he turned to gaze upon his friend. "I can't thank you enough Hermione."
"Enough." She cut him off with a smile. "I'm an expectant mother and my emotions are far too dodgy. There is no thanks necessary. Now you and Molly did about twice as much as I anticipated today. Go home."
Harry nodded, rising from the bed. "Your dinner is ready if you're hungry."
Hermione shook her head emphatically and closed her eyes as if disgusted. "Not right now, thanks Harry. I'll wait for Ron. I've had quite a few contractions today and my stomach is pretty upset."
Anxiety flared on Harry's face. "Contractions?" He hollered. "But doesn't that mean you should be going to St. Mungo's?"
Hermione extended her hands, gesturing for Harry to stop his worrying. "It's OK, completely normal Harry. I'll send Pig over to Molly at the Burrow if anything changes. Go home."
Harry nodded obediently. "All right, thanks Hermione. Merlin help you if you getup out of that bed and start working or something. Ron will hex my arse if you do, so keep that in mind at least."
Harry sat alone in his room at the Burrow. His back rested against the headboard, his knees were drawn up and the photo album from Hermione sat open on his lap.
He had foregone dinner and binged on his new book instead. He read each passage carefully, studied each photo, and often paused- overcome by mentions of those whom he loved. Sirius. Cedric. James. Lily.
Dusk turned into night and still Harry read on. The trials of former Death Eaters were fascinating and their punishments were cruel, but no worse than what they deserved. Remus Lupin had been the one to cast the killing curse on Peter Pettigrew after the final battle was over while Pettigrew was trying to escape. Remus had gone on trial, but charges against him were quickly dismissed. Harry felt a strange satisfaction that it had been Remus that rid the world of the rat. It was only right, he had known Peter the longest, and had listened to months or years worth of traitorous, treacherous lies regarding Pettigrew selling Lily and James to Voldemort.
Each event was organized chronologically, and each year ended with letters from Ginny, Ron and Hermione on Christmas and New Year's Eve. Every time that his birthday rolled around more letters were included. Each June 20th, the anniversary of the final battle, the Daily Prophet gave updates on Harry's condition by interview various members of the Weasley family.
Ginny's letters had been amazing. They were emotional, tender, intimate, and overwhelmingly hopeful. Her words professed her abounding love for him, how much she missed him, how lonely she was even though she sat next to him each and every day. Harry clutched the letters to his chest, feeling his heart thunder underneath the paper. She was still his Ginny.
Engrossed, Harry had finally reached the year 2002. Fall and winter to be precise. December 10, 2002, Bellatrix Black Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy had finally exhausted their appeals process before the Wizengamot and had been sentenced to death.
Ron's, Hermione's, and Ginny's letters were all missing from that Christmas, but there was space left for each one. Their New Year's Eve letters were present though, recalling the events of the previous year.
Harry thought it seemed extremely odd, it seemed very calculated. He made a mental note to question Ron, Hermione or Ginny about it.
Harry was glad that Mrs. Weasley had let him sleep in a little, he had stayed up much too late looking at his new book. But now that Harry knew where Ron and Hermione lived, they could easily Apparate.
Harry sat across from Mrs. Weasley at breakfast, rambling and babbling about the scrapbook, inundating her with questions. She answered him with much consideration and care.
As Harry dressed, he could hardly contain his emotions. He smiled recalling some of the thoughts Ginny had written in her letters. The professions of love, gratitude for their time together, and vowing that Harry would be her first, her last, her only.
Harry decided it might be best to do a little work first before engaging Hermione in a long, drawn out conversation. He hung the identical mobiles in the nursery, assembled the two cribs, 2 bassinettes, and helped Mrs. Weasley organize the closet.
Hermione dozed in her room, sleeping through lunch, so Harry asked Mrs. Weasley even more questions, mainly regarding the aftermath of the final battle. There were some questions he wasn't sure he wanted the answers to: how Hagrid had died, any details of Dumbledore's death, and the memorials of Hogwart's students.
Instead he found the trials and their processes intriguing.
He went back to work after lunch, doing lawn chores. Harry was happy to be outside and began thinking of Quidditch. In each year of the scrapbook, Ron had included the wrap up of the Chudley Cannons' season. The Cannons were mentioned in each of Ron's letters as well. Harry made it a point to ask Ginny and Ron about getting together with the other Weasley brothers to get a game on.
Mrs. Weasley called him inside as the sun's heat reached its apex around 4:00. She told him to Apparate home and clean up and to leave a note for Arthur to join them for dinner when he arrived home.
When Harry returned to Ron and Hermione's he asked Molly if he could speak with Hermione until dinner was ready and was pleased to get her permission.
When Harry approached her bedroom door he thought maybe she was sleeping and he should go away, but he could hear the sound of humming softly emanating from the room. He knocked on the door softly.
"Come in!" Hermione called out in a sweet voice.
Harry pushed open the door cautiously to see Hermione propped up in bed, knitting baby booties the Muggle way.
"Hi Harry! I thought Mum would be more impressed if she knew I did these the way she'd originally taught me."
He smiled. What did he know about knitting. "Sleep well today?"
"Fair. Come in, sit down." Hermione dropped her knitting needles on the bed and noticed the book tucked under Harry's arm. "How'd you like your book?"
Harry was glad to see one of the chairs from the dining room table next to the bed.
"Brilliant!" His voice echoed his enthusiasm, but his eyes held the tiredness he obviously felt as he gingerly sat down in the chair. "I couldn't put it down. I finished it quite early this morning."
Hermione laughed, she had expected his curiosity, frankly she would have been concerned if he had not shown any interest in the last five years. "I imagine you have some questions then."
"A fair few." Harry admitted, watching Hermione resume her knitting.
He began to speak, not waiting for an invitation, discussing his theories, concerns and satisfaction of what had happened at the final battle. Hermione listened with cautious optimism as her needles clicked away. She shared her memories of events, how she'd testified on behalf of Remus, and testified against Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy. It was Hermione that brought up the Department of Mysteries and that one of the charges against Bellatrix was Sirius' death. So many people had been able to testify against her, that her sentence was inevitable.
After what seemed like an eternity, Harry and Hermione had continued to talk and Harry could see Hermione's skein of yarn getting smaller and the little green baby socks taking their shape. Hermione had gotten better since she began knitting clothes for the house elves 5th year.
"There's just one more question." Harry declared, watching Hermione cast one of the booties off her needles.
"Yes."
"Kind of silly actually, but why didn't you all write me letters on Christmas last year?"
Hermione paused un-naturally. Christmas 2002- Ginny's engagement. Dean had proposed while everyone was unwrapping gifts at the Burrow that morning. The announcement appeared in the afternoon edition of the Daily Prophet.
Ginny, Ron and Hermione had always sat down together to write their letters to Harry, and that afternoon Ginny had other things to do.
Harry instantly picked up on Hermione's pause and knew she was hiding something. He only hoped it wasn't something disastrous at the time.
"Well, it was the first Christmas with Peyton, you know, and Fred and George had charmed all the presents from Ron and Percy to sing 'God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs' - which got annoying fast. Oh, and one of the twins' fireworks went off in the eggnog- which exploded everywhere. And then, of course, we went to visit you at St. Mungos, so there just wasn't time."
She hadn't taken a breath from her first word. She was rambling, a sure sign of nervousness.
"So nothing ran in the Prophet that day? No bad news?"
She cast her eyes downward. "Nothing of any real importance."
Just then Ron Apparated into the bedroom.
"Bloody hell." He hollered, throwing his tie into the corner. "Hey mate, 'lo love." He greeted Harry and Hermione flopping down on the bed.
"Rough day?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, I sat in meetings and did paperwork all day no thanks to Fletchley, who skived off his work again today. Stupid prat. I can't wait until the twins are born so I can have a vacation."