Harry awoke with a painful ache in his neck and shoulder. He winced and groaned, trying to awaken and ascertain where he was. The couch… Ginny. His eyes sprang open when he realized he was alone on that couch, and Ginny wasn't with him. The world was blurry without his glasses. He strained to push himself up to a sitting position, eager to find Ginny. Had she left? Did he scare her terribly? Was she angry?
The room was still fairly dark, and he could hear the crackle and pop of the fire in the hearth as he felt around for his glasses. He located the frames and was hastening to place them on his face when he heard a hushed whisper from the other side of the room.
Ginny was silhouetted in front of the windows on the far side of the room, swaying side to side in a slow rhythm, with one of the babies cradled in her arms. She was humming a soft melody and gazing down at the infant, injecting the words to the song occasionally. "Lavender blue, dilly, dilly. Lavender green."
Harry stared at her, overtaken with her simple beauty, even at this ungodly hour of the morning. Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders and halfway down her back, and she was still clad in the blue nightshirt Harry had given her hours before. Her bare feet gently crushed the carpet beneath them as she continued to softly sing the lullaby.
"If I were king, dilly, dilly, I'd need a queen."
Harry rose from the couch and quietly paced across the room, peeking into the tiny cots as he did so. Benjamin was sleeping soundly, but Harry gently pulled the blanket up across his little tummy and continued toward Ginny.
"Who told me so, dilly, dilly? Who told me so? I told myself, dilly, dilly. I told me so."
Ginny's voice was hushed, really nothing more than a whisper, but it was lovely and melodic. Harry felt the kinetic energy of her body, drawing him closer, and hesitantly wrapped an arm around her waist and rested his chin on her left shoulder.
"Hi," she whispered, startled by his presence. "Did I wake you?"
Harry breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of her skin and her hair mingled with that baby smell of powder and formula and skin lotion. It was almost intoxicating. "Only because you were gone," he admitted, looking down at Liam, who had stopped taking his bottle and given in to sleep from the gentle rocking of Ginny's arms.
"I'm sorry. As soon as he started to fuss, I jumped up to get him. I wanted to let you sleep; you seemed tired," she answered softly, leaning back slightly, resting her back against Harry's chest.
"What time is it, anyway?" Harry wondered aloud, carefully circling his other arm around Ginny, careful not to disturb the baby in her arms.
"Around 5:00, I think. Go back and have a lie in; I think he's asleep again." She stepped out of Harry's arms and gingerly walked back toward the little cradles, laying Liam inside and covering him.
Ginny retreated to the couch and pulled the blanket over her knees as she yawned. "Do you realize that by staying out all night, I will have invoked Cyclone Molly, and I'm going to hear all about it later?"
Harry chuckled at the reference to her mother. It was, by all means, fair and accurate. "Don't go. Stay a little while longer?"
Her face warmed into a smile. "I suppose."
Harry occupied the seat next to her on the couch, but quickly stretched out and rested his head on Ginny's lap. "This OK?" he asked hesitantly, settling his shoulders into a comfortable position against her thigh.
"Yeah, it's fine," Ginny replied, almost astonished to think that having the object of her affections so close wouldn't be OK. She carefully removed Harry's glasses and set them on the low table in front of her and began to smooth the fringe off his forehead. Harry moaned softly and let a smile play across his lips.
"That – feels – amazing," Harry offered, looking up through half-lidded eyes and punctuating each word carefully as he felt Ginny's nails graze his scalp.
Ginny smiled down at Harry's peaceful face, unsure what she had done to have again been given this opportunity during this lifetime, but she instantly decided to make the best of her good fortune. She lightly traced the features of his face with the tip of her finger in what she hoped was a most soothing manner: over his eyelids, down the bridge of his nose, up the edge of his earlobe, across his stubbly chin, and outlining the soft skin of his lips. Ginny's mind drifted to the memory of the kiss they had shared the night before. It had been tender, warm, and riddled with emotion. It was all too brief, in Ginny's opinion, but it hadn't seemed forced or misleading in any way. It was the best thing she could have hoped for under the circumstances she had placed them under, and she couldn't wait for her lips to meet his again.
Harry had drifted off to sleep again, resting on Ginny's lap and letting her caress his face, and it had easily been one of the most wonderful things he had ever felt. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept so contentedly. He awoke for the second time, stretching his arms wide above his head, and realized he was alone again. The room was silent this time, and daylight flooded it. Harry sat up immediately and began the search for his glasses, once more. He found them quickly and put them on, clarifying his vision. The nightshirt Ginny had been wearing was folded up and setting on the edge of his big bed, and he could instantly see that the cots were empty, as well. Harry pulled a face and ruffled his hands through his hair, feeling guilty for shirking his duties. He hastily grabbed a clean T-shirt and jeans, quickly cleaned himself up, and hurried downstairs to find Ginny, hoping she had not decided to return home with the twins, or worse, that something happened to them.
After searching the entire house with a demeanour bordering on desperation, Harry found Ginny and the boys outside in the backyard. She had spread a quilted blanket out on the lawn, bundled the boys up in jumpers, and had taken them out for some fresh air. She was stretched out on her stomach with her elbows propped up on the checkerboard quilt and rolled over toward the house when she heard a door slam behind her.
"Hi! We didn't want to wake you," she said brightly.
Harry crossed the lawn in long strides with his fists clenched at his sides. "Merlin, Gin, I was worried something had happened to all of you!" Harry snapped, sinking to his knees at the edge of the blanket.
Her brows furled together worriedly. "I'm sorry," she began, rolling over onto her back, and reached up to cradle his face. "Those days are over, Harry."
But he silenced her protest by dropping down onto all fours overtop of her body, being careful not to disturb the twins who were laying nearby on the blanket. He leaned down, enticingly close, and whispered an apology, "I'm sorry I raised my voice; I was just worried." He turned his head quickly to kiss the palm that had been supporting his face and watched her smile apprehensively.
"Is that my shirt?" he asked, looking down at the crisp white shirt that was tied in a knot at her waist.
"Well, yes, but I needed something to wear," Ginny offered sweetly.
Harry laughed and leaned down to kiss her lips, feeling her smile against him. He broke the kiss without tasting her, but remained positioned close to her face. "You can have every last shirt I have, if you want them," he whispered, nuzzling her nose with his own. "They look a thousand times better on you than they do on me, anyway."
She giggled and slipped her hands behind the back of his neck. "I don't think so," she answered. "I saw you teaching that day, and you looked positively handsome."
Harry laughed absently. "Ha, you're biased, that's what you are. I have an idea; tell me what you think. How about -" he bent down to peck her lips once more, "– I go over to the Three Broomsticks -" again he repeated the gesture, "– and get us some lunch, for being such a prat to you this morning and leaving you to take care of the boys alone. Maybe I'll stop at Scrivenshafts and buy some invitations, too."
Ginny instinctively wove her fingers into his raven coloured hair and raised her eyebrows, perusing the thought. "I think that sounds great, and I'll help you with your invitations this afternoon," she answered, leaning up to brush his lips with her own. "Hurry back; I'm starving."
After lunch of vegetable soup and warm brown bread with honey-butter, Harry and Ginny decided to Apparate back to the Burrow with the twins. Ginny had indeed fulfilled her promise to help Harry with the invitations for his housewarming party by painting a small green tree with coral coloured blossoms on one of the cards in water colours. She hastily brushed the word Rose-Tree underneath the picture and then cast a simple Multiplying Charm on the other note cards, making them all identical. After the cards had dried, Harry, in his best penmanship, wrote in the date, time, and place of the party, stuffed them into the envelopes, and addressed each one from the long list of people he had intended to invite. Harry put them in the pocket of his robes, making a mental note to mail them on his way up to Hogwarts Monday morning.
After the twins had gone down for their late afternoon nap, Harry figured he should be heading back to Rose-Tree to finally get some work done for the upcoming week, but instantly regretted the thought of it. He had just spent twenty-four hours with Ginny, and they had been so progressive and healing, that the thought of leaving seemed treacherous. Harry waited impatiently until finally, Ginny got up to check on the boys in the nursery. Molly was in the kitchen, beginning dinner preparations, and Arthur had fallen asleep on the couch, listening to the Wireless. He ducked into the nursery as she peered down at both the children sleeping on their cots. He closed the door behind him, alerting her to his presence.
She brought her index finger up to her lips, widening her eyes and whispering, "Shh."
Harry grinned at the smile peeking around the edge of her finger and nervously pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and ran his hand through the front of his hair.
"You're leaving, aren't you?" Ginny questioned intuitively, stepping inside the frame of his body.
Harry nodded regretfully. "I have so much work to do for this week."
"Teacher's get homework?" Ginny teased, poking his ticklish ribs.
"Yeah, I wish I didn't have to go." Harry lazily slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his body. "Thanks for everything; I really couldn't have made it through this weekend without you."
Ginny waved him off and rolled her eyes. "Oh, pish. You did just fine with the boys; it's just easier when 'there are two people to care for them. I'm just happy I was able to help."
Harry shook his head, bothered he did not make the meaning of his message clearer. "No, I mean staying with me last night. Ginny, that felt really natural and -"
She pressed a finger to his lips and looked up into his eyes with a familiar, fiery, genuine stare. "It should be me, thanking you. Second chances don't happen everyday, and I can't imagine how difficult it must be to trust me again. In all my stupidity, my intent was never to hurt you, but to spare myself. I hope you know that for as long as you want me, I won't hurt you again."
Harry's mind drifted to the night of the day Liam and Benjamin were born. Ginny had worked a full day at St. Mungo's and had Apparated straight into Ron's old room at the Burrow. Initially she had been giddy and eager, but her mood quickly changed after locking eyes with Harry. She had startled him by asking if he loved her…
His eyes popped open, astounded at the question she had just proposed; he pulled away from her to look fully at her face. "Gin, I, er, you know I do." Luckily, he recovered quickly. "You're the only one for me, for the rest of my life – no one else. I would do anything; give up anything; be anything you wanted. There's no one like you and me. Tell me I'm not alone in these feelings: that you feel it, too."
It was Ginny's turn to close her eyes and exhale softly. She let her hands slide from his face down to his arms and grasped his biceps tightly. She rested her head against his bare chest for the briefest of moments, sighing again, letting her breath caress his skin.
Finding her Gryffindor courage, Ginny pulled away from his chest and gazed into his eyes. She swallowed with a certain degree of difficulty. "Harry," she said, breaking the silence of his dimly lit bedroom. "Harry, I have loved you since long before I knew who you were – since my mum would regale me with stories about 'the boy who lived.' Unfortunately, I never fell in love with him. I fell in love with Harry Potter, my brother's best friend, the boy I met on Platform 9 3/4. I have always loved you, I will always love you, and there's not a bloody thing you can do to change it."
Relief spread across Harry's face as he captured Ginny in an embrace, listening to her laughter. He swept a stray lock of hair away from her face and set her back on her own feet. She continued, "I promise, I'm going to make everything right. I know I've been moody and distant, and I can't thank you enough for being patient with me. All I ask for is your patience for just a few more days, until the Christening is over. Then I am all yours."
Harry nodded, obliging her. "Whatever… it doesn't matter. As long as you're still my Ginny and you always will be, I'll do anything and everything."
She giggled softly, laying her head on his chest. "I don't want those things, silly. I just want my Harry."
"Merlin, you don't know how good it feels to hear you say that," Harry remarked, pulling her toward the bed. "I was starting to wonder."
Ginny suddenly got very serious and grabbed his face firmly, forcing him to look directly in her flaring eyes. "Don't ever doubt my love for you. Do you hear me? It will never change, nor will it ever go away. I love you, Harry James Potter, and I always will."
"You tried telling me, didn't you?" Harry suddenly asked, breaking out of the retrospect. "What would you have said?"
Ginny looped her arms around Harry's neck and kept her brown eyes staunchly locked on his. "…That it was never any contest between you and Dean …that I never have, and I never will love anyone like I love you …that I was stupid and desperate and tired of people telling me to give up on you. I really wanted to fix everything."
Harry squinted his eyes behind his glasses and scrutinized Ginny fiercely. "Who told you to give up?
"Healer Borton. You had passed the date of a hopeful recovery –"
"It doesn't matter," Harry interrupted, pressing his lips to her forehead. "I'm not going anywhere. I always knew that you loved me; maybe that's what made it so terrible… made me so angry that we had been kept apart by not one, but by two forces. I'm sorry to ramble on' I was just thinking of that night at the Burrow after the twins were born. I didn't know why then, but you had made it very clear to me that you loved me, and I believed you were telling me the truth, because there was such a look in your eyes: a wanting that told me you were mine. I wanted that, and I wanted to be yours, too, and I knew there wasn't any reason to worry. We had given ourselves to each other physically, mentally, and spiritually a long time before. That look in your eyes told me everything I needed to know. I believed you."
"And what do my eyes say now?" Ginny questioned, weaving her fingers into his untidy hair.
Harry leaned in tantalizingly close and wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her deep into his embrace, burning his gaze into hers. "…That I can trust you implicitly with all my heart," he whispered against her mouth before crushing her lips with his own.
The kiss caught Ginny pleasantly off guard, but she responded to his urgency quickly enough, coiling her fingers even tighter into his hair and pressing her chest to his, feeling the wonderful urge of his body against hers. Harry responded in kind, parting her supple lips and enticing her tongue with his own, drawing her into his mouth.
They parted after a few seconds, nearly breathless and fully inflamed with desire. Harry rested his forehead against Ginny's, letting his lips graze hers as he spoke. "Now, I really hate having to leave."
Ginny slid her hands around from behind his neck to cradle his face instead, brushing her thumbs across his cheeks. "It's OK, and I am OK. I know this is scary and difficult, but I don't want you to rush into anything and later regret it."
Harry made to protest, but she silenced him with a caress of her lips. "Stop. You don't need to explain anything to me. The fact that you're here is enough. Go home; get your work done. I'll see you later on in the week."
He closed his eyes, kissing her once more, feeling her body react to his advances as her hands traced along his stubbled jaw line, holding him close. Ginny pulled away, trying to gain breath. "Go; I'll Owl you tomorrow."
Harry let go of her body begrudgingly and retrieved his wand from the pocket of his robes. "Bye," he whispered as Ginny pressed a kiss to her index finger then touched it to his lips. Harry smiled, kissed her finger back, and watched her hand retreat as he Apparated home.
The second week of September felt like it could have been the longest week of Harry's life. The invitations to his housewarming party had gone out in the Owl Post. Hedwig and ' Juno, Ginny's Ural Owl that had been a gift from Harry after her fifth year, were getting plenty of exercise flying messages between the Rose-Tree and the Burrow. Harry managed time to make time for a brief Floo call, but he and Ginny couldn't seem to coordinate a time to see each other, given their busy schedules.
The school year was well under way; students were settling down from their first week jitters and excitement and had finally settled into a routine. Harry found his students to be cheerful, eager, and compliant when they arrived for his classes. Harry was just as eager and was pleased to discover he enjoyed teaching a little more each day. When he wasn't teaching, he researched new activities and experiments for them to perform in class, and he liked reading and commenting on their opinions and their own research in their essays and homework. Harry found he was busy every night of the week!
Juno arrived at Rose-Tree on Friday evening with an invitation to dinner from Molly Weasley to come for dinner at the Burrow on Saturday. Ron and Hermione were due in from Paris, and Molly wanted Harry to join the rest of the family to welcome her son and daughter in law home.
Harry sat down at his desk under the suspicious eyes of the owl, who was very protective of Ginny and tended to be snippy with nearly everyone else. Juno had always treated him with respect and had demanded it back, rather like an extreme version of Hedwig, (who Juno had always found to be quite dignified.) Harry quickly scrawled an affirmative reply, thanking Mrs Weasley for inviting him. He rose from the desk and carefully approached the buff and grey coloured bird sitting on his windowsill.
"I haven't seen you in a long time, eh?" Harry began, reaching out a hesitant hand toward Juno' whose scowl lessened as he gently smoothed the feathers on her proud chest. He remembered how she had tried to attack Pig upon their first meeting, when Pig had innocently perched on Ginny's shoulder. He instantly thought he'd made a mistake in buying Juno for Ginny, but they seemed suited to each other, and Ginny was the only one who could control the possessive owl. "Well, I wager we'll be seeing a bit more of each other," Harry smirked, handing the letter over and watching Juno set off for the Burrow through the open window.
Harry Apparated to the front porch of the Burrow on Saturday afternoon, finding himself eager to see Ron and Hermione and to hear all about their trip, but only after he had properly greeted Ginny. He reached out and rapped his knuckles on the front door, wondering if anyone could hear him with all the excitement he could hear inside the house: chatter, laughter, and Molly Weasley yelling at Fred and George to stay out of her kitchen. Harry cracked a smile as the door was yanked open, and he found himself enveloped in the arms of his favourite redhead.
Harry grinned mischievously and hooked his thumbs around the belt loops on her jeans, pulling her nearer to his own body.
"I never thought you'd get here," she replied in a breathy voice, watching his eyes twinkle in the reflection of the light behind her.
"Some things are worth waiting for," he whispered before searing her lips with a heated kiss, aching to feel her tongue quench the fires that had slowly, steadily, and dangerously built up inside him over course of the week since he had last seen her. She instinctively obliged, enticing his tongue into her mouth, letting him taste the bouquet of Muggle champagne from France that had only recently tainted her lips. Ginny's hands slithered over the sleeves of his jumper and rested along side of his neck where the skin was heavily scented with the aroma of spicy cologne. Her tongue, teeth, and lips suddenly longed to leave their mark there (as well as on his mouth), to see if he tasted the same as she remembered. She might have done it, too, had she not been distracted.
"Bloody hell!" Ron hollered, startling Harry and Ginny from their amorous intentions. "Look what happens when we go away, Hermione!"
Harry bashfully let go of the belt loops on Ginny's jeans, but her hands remained softly planted on the sides of his neck. She leaned in to kiss him briefly as a blush crept over her cheeks. "I'm really glad you're here," she whispered, nuzzling his nose with her own before flashing him a smile and meandering through the living room, again, past the ogling eyes of Ron and Hermione.
Harry tried desperately to contain the smile that ached to get past the corners of his mouth as he lowered his head and rubbed the back of his neck embarrassedly.
Ron babbled and sputtered incoherently, finally letting his mouth gape open. An expression of confusion was etched deeply on his face. His arm was extended to its full length, and he pointed, first at Harry, and then jerked his thumb over his head in the vague direction of Ginny's location in the kitchen.
His smile finally escaping, Harry was glad that most of the action in the Burrow's living room was taking place near the kitchen and the dining room, where he guessed dinner was almost ready. Only Hermione and Ron stood in the middle of the room, and Harry sauntered over to meet them.
"Two weeks! Not even two weeks! Merlin, Hermione, we've missed it all! We're never going away again," Ron announced to his wife, who smiled smugly and folded her arms across her chest. "I'm serious!"
Hermione finally waved off her husband and extended her arms toward Harry. "I'm so happy for you, Harry. I take it everything has, well, worked out?"
Harry pulled her into a hug, and gave her a little squeeze. "Welcome home, Hermione."
His best friend squeezed back and pulled away from him, but kept a firm grip on his shoulders. "Everything's OK?" she asked hopefully, with genuine concern and not nosiness evident in her voice.
Harry smiled down at her and blushed as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, we've made a lot progress in the last couple of weeks," he began, looking over Hermione's shoulder at Ron, as well. "And we're doing all right on our own, so I'm asking you all not to meddle. Please?" Harry stressed the last phrase very carefully.
Hermione nodded and removed her hands from Harry's shoulders to pat the centre of his chest, over his heart. "I promise. We're just really happy for you, right Ron?" She cast a glance over her shoulder at her husband, 'whose brows were knit closely together, with a scowl painting his face.
"But we missed it! They got back together, and we missed it!"
Harry laughed heartily and shook his head, stepping around Hermione as he extended his hand toward Ron. "Welcome home, Mate; how was Paris?"
"Oh, no, Potter, you aren't getting off the hook that easily," Ron teased, taking Harry's outstretched hand. "Not after you just snogged the hell out of my sister in my parent's living room."
"Leave them alone, Ron; they're happy," Hermione cut in, standing up on tiptoe to kiss Harry's cheek. "We had a lovely time; thank you, again."
Molly's voice suddenly bellowed from the kitchen that dinner was ready.
Harry entered the busy kitchen, which was full of redheads and their spouses, significant others, intendeds, and he was rather hoping to be seated next to Ginny at the dinner table. Ginny was sitting on the far side of the long dining table, and caught Harry's eyes, indicating that she wanted him to sit near her.
Harry tried moving through the congestion, but felt a clap on the shoulder and turned to see Bill Weasley's smiling face. He greeted him cheerfully, all the while keeping his eyes on Ginny, whose expression was growing worried as the table began to fill up. Bill asked Harry about teaching at Hogwarts, while Penny cut through with a screaming Peyton and handed him to Ginny as she settled into the seat next to her. Bill pulled out the two chairs nearest to where he was standing, conversing with Harry, and gestured for Harry to sit down just as George swept into the spot on Ginny's right side, locking her into her seat at the table. Harry winced and mouthed "I'm sorry" across the table, where she sat facing him. She shrugged and smiled as Molly began levitating food onto the table.
When the meal was through, the conversation turned to Ron and Hermione's honeymoon. Stories were shared, jokes were made, gifts were doled out, and other discussion sprung up, as well. Harry saw Ron pour two glasses of red wine from a bottle they'd brought back from France and patted his friend's shoulder as he inclined his head toward the back door of the Burrow, indicating that Harry should join him outside.
Almost un-noticed, Harry pushed himself away from the table and wandered through the kitchen, following Ron to the backyard. Harry closed the door behind him and shivered as he stepped out on the patio.
Ron looked up at the clear, star strewn night sky and held out one of the glasses for Harry.
"Er, I don't know," Harry said, cringing at the ominous-looking, blood red liquid in the glass. "You didn't see me that night I drank all the Firewhiskey."
"It's Muggle wine, Mate. You won't get pissed on one drink, I swear."
Harry eyed the wine suspiciously, but sighed and took the glass from Ron. "So, what's up, anyhow?"
Now that one of Ron's hands was free, he stuffed it into the pocket of his jeans and brought his glass up to his lips, taking a deep drink. "Harry, you're my best mate, and I came to grips a long time ago about you and my sister, but I have to ask you this," he paused and finally turned to look at Harry, who was taking a hesitant sip of the wine. "Are you with Ginny again because you love her and really want her back, or –"
"Or because I'm trying to get even, right? Is that what you were going to ask me?"
Ron could immediately see that he had riled Harry up a bit, and he undoubtedly took that as a good sign. "Yeah, that's what I was going to ask. But the fact that I've got your dander up tells me what I need to know."
Harry scowled and took another drink of wine. "You're meddling," he finally said. "Do you honestly think I would do anything to hurt Ginny intentionally?"
"No," Ron admitted shamefully. "But I'm her brother; I had to ask. I'm not meddling, either; I'm looking out for my best friend's interest. Ginny has, um, come clean with everything?"
Harry nodded curtly. "Everything I need to know."
"Are we interrupting anything?" Hermione questioned as she and Ginny joined Harry and Ron on the patio.
"No, it's fine," Harry answered her, turning to smile at Ginny.
Hermione watched as Harry extended a hand toward Ginny. She coiled his arm around her waist and stepped in very closely to him and rested her head on his shoulder. Hermione let out a breathy laugh and shook her head in disbelief.
"What?" Harry and Ginny asked in unison, turning to look first at one another, then at Hermione and Ron.
"You can't know how surprised I was to see you, well, you know in the living room when you walked in, Harry, honestly. I couldn't be happier for the two of you."
"Thanks," Ginny replied shyly, giggling and letting Harry pull her in closer. Ginny, herself, had been surprised by Harry's eagerness and enthusiasm regarding their heated kiss. Their progress, in general, had been surprising. and it definitely wasn't anything she would complain about.
"We both have some work to do, but both of us came clean, and the truth is out in the open," Harry interjected, taking a small sip of the wine.
Hermione nodded happily. "That's good. I'm glad you aren't rushing into anything."
Harry didn't know if that was a fair statement. He thought maybe if his hormones ruled his body, then he probably wouldn't have let Ginny leave his house the weekend before. Staying rational was getting more and more difficult as their comfort level was continually getting more intimate.
Hermione blushed and gave Harry and Ginny a knowing glance before turning to her husband. "C'mon, Ron, let's go take our boys home."
Ron frowned at his wife, who, in turn, nodded her head toward Harry and Ginny, insinuating that they probably wanted to be alone. "What?" he asked naively, before turning to look at them in their embrace. "Oh, yeah, right. Let's go."
"It's good to have you both home," Harry admitted, regretfully letting go of Ginny to hug Hermione and pat Ron on the back. "I'm glad you had a nice time."
Ginny took her turn saying goodnight and watched Ron and Hermione disappear inside the house. "I thought they'd never leave," she confessed, slipping back into Harry's arms.
Harry downed the rest of the wine in one swallow and, with ardour, wandlessly levitated the glass over to a nearby window box. "Me, either," he joked, happy both his hands were free. As he held Ginny close, he felt her shudder against his chest. "Cold?"
"A little," she answered, snuggling a little closer to him. "Come have lunch with me tomorrow? I'm on call, but I imagine as long as I stay close to the Floo, I don't see why we couldn't have lunch."
Harry reached up, lifting her chin with the back of his hand and leaned in close, purposely nudging her nose with his, taking in a breath when he neared her lips. "Love to."
"Good," Ginny whispered, suddenly aware how close their lips were to each other's. Mere millimetres. The cold, damp, night air made their mingling breath come out in misty puffs of grey until they were close enough so that they no longer breathed air, but inhaled each other, instead. With an aching deliberateness, Harry pressed his lips to Ginny's, and without any haste whatsoever, he coaxed her tongue inside his mouth. His hands traced along her jaw line and wove deeply into her hair, feeling it entangle his fingers.
When Harry eventually became breathless, he broke the kiss, but refused to un-weave his fingers from the coppery red hair that glinted so beautifully in the moonlight. He rested his forehead against Ginny's and tried to regain his breath, but only succeeded in kissing her again.
"I don't want to go, but I have to," Harry finally admitted, pulling away from her and panting from the lack of oxygen.
Ginny nodded. "I know." She rested her cheek against his chest again. "I'll see you for lunch tomorrow, then?"
Harry cracked a smile and gave her a squeeze. "There's nothing I'd rather do."
Ginny was thoroughly satisfied with that; she couldn't ask for more. Even if she couldn't see him during these busy weeks, weekends would sustain her until they got to a point where their relationship was completely healed.
He followed her inside the Burrow and thanked Molly and Arthur Weasley for dinner. He could no longer give Ginny the goodbye he wanted to give her, but opted for a safe hand squeeze and kiss to the cheek instead. "See you tomorrow," he added with a wink and then Disapparated home.
Harry had expected lunch in the fashion in which it had been served last weekend; he and Ginny sitting at the kitchen table, but he was completely surprised when he Apparated to the Burrow and found a blanket and a picnic basket sitting on the table instead.
"What's up?" he asked casually upon entering the kitchen and finding Ginny. Harry yawned as he awaited her response; he'd been up late the night before.
"Hello to you, as well," she replied cheekily. "It's too nice to sit inside today; the sun has been shining all morning, the field is dry, and I thought we could have a picnic lunch outside." Her voice seemed a little hollow, Harry thought.
Harry hadn't ever been on a picnic, not in the true sense, anyway: where one took a basket and a blanket out to a grassy area and ate a prepared lunch. He'd sat with Ron and Hermione on the lawns at Hogwarts and eaten lunch on sunny days, but a picnic implied preparation not impulse.
Ginny called out to her mother, informing her that she would be outside if one of her patients should happen to Floo call. Harry dutifully followed her outside, carrying the blanket under his arm. He instantly picked up on Ginny's introversion; she was generally much chattier than this.
She stopped walking and surveyed the yard. The spot where she stood was flat, and it appeared that it wasn't a particularly interesting area for garden gnomes to occupy. Ginny merely nodded her approval of the location and did not turn to watch Harry spread the blanket out on the yellowing grass, but instead looked out at the orchard watching the shiny apples on the trees as if they were the most interesting things in the world.
Harry was hesitant as he smoothed the wrinkles out of the blanket and sat down and waited for Ginny to join him. "Is there, er, something wrong?" he finally had the courage to ask.
Ginny spun around quickly with tears welling up in her brown eyes. Harry was completely caught off guard, but rose from the blanket and stepped toward her. "What is wrong?" he asked strongly, worried sick that something awful had happened.
A sob broke forth and tears sprung from her eyes. "Why are you here, Harry?"
"What?" he asked loudly, shocked at the sudden burst of emotion from the woman standing before him. Why was she asking this, when they were clearly on a road to recovery?
"Here! Why are you here? I don't deserve this! I don't deserve you!"
Harry's mind was reeling with the things she had shouted at him. "Why are you asking me this? I'm here because I've never stopped loving you, and I want you in my life." He took the brown basket from her hands and hastily cast it aside. "I thought you were willing to fight for me," Harry spat, grabbing her hands inside his own.
"Harry -" she cried, before he brought his hands up to hold her face and forced her to look into his eyes.
"Listen to me. I've been thinking really carefully about this, and I wouldn't be here at all, if I didn't know it to be true. When I went home last night, I went through the scrapbook you all made for me. I re-read every letter, every article, and looked at every picture. You told me yourself, and I overheard you that day in the nursery – that you visited me everyday. Only someone who really cared, really loved, would visit someone who was unresponsive every single day. No other woman I know would have been so selfless. You believed in me when almost everyone else had given up. The day I went up to Hogwarts and took the teaching job, I visited the school first, and memories of you, of us, were everywhere. The common room, the Great Hall, even the password to the Tower reminded me of you! I knew from that moment on that no matter how upset I was, I couldn't, didn't want to, imagine my life without you. I went to the Memorial next and saw the space left for my own name on that cold, black, granite obelisk, but the thing that upset me most was thinking that I could have lost you during the war, and I would have been here, all alone. Do not do this to me, Ginny. I am willing to fight like hell for you, for me, for us. I will tell you this as many times as you need to hear it – you're worth it." He paused, awaiting her reaction, but quickly posed another question, one he knew she would answer: "Am I worth it?"
Ginny's lips quivered, and she made to look away just by dropping her eyes, but Harry raised her chin and found her gaze once again. "Tell me."
"You are worth it," she answered with tears running down her cheeks.
"Then no more of this," Harry declared firmly, looking fiercely into her eyes. "If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be, and to be honest, I've been looking forward to having lunch with you since last night. So sit down with me, now, and let's eat."
Ginny pasted on her best smile and wiped the tears off her face. "I'm sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry for," Harry answered, pressing a kiss to Ginny's forehead. "You've not done anything wrong." Harry sat down on the blanket, pulling Ginny to sit down with him. "C'mon, Freckles, I'm starving."
The third week in September finally arrived, and Ginny didn't think she could do any more running around than she already had. Of course, she would never have told Harry all this, but helping to plan a party, caring for a woman with an extremely high risk pregnancy, and helping to care for her nephews while Hermione returned to work editing text books was time consuming and draining.
Coordinating tasks between her mother, Hermione, Angelina, Katie, Penny, and Dobby's family was proving to be daunting. Thankfully, Fleur and Ekaterina were too far away to provide much help.
Ginny hadn't seen Harry since their Sunday picnic, and there wasn't much hope of seeing him during the upcoming weekend, either. He had agreed to supervise the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice before their game versus Slytherin the first weekend of November. Ginny couldn't fault him for wanting to play Quidditch, and it was, after all, his duty as a Professor to attend school functions; she was on call all weekend, anyway. With any luck, her patient would give birth, and she would have Sunday free to spend with Harry.
Harry went to bed late, after a most exhilarating day. It had been his first opportunity to ride his broom since his first visit to Hogwarts back in August, and his first opportunity to actually play Quidditch in more than five years. Of course, he was just supervising Gryffindor's practice, but it had been bloody good fun. His students were amazed by his skill and his instinctive, knee-jerk reactions while riding on his Firebolt, which he had been glad to discover was still THE premiere broom, although newer models had been produced. He'd stayed out later at the pitch than he'd originally intended and decided to stay at Hogwarts for dinner before returning back to Rose-Tree.
Harry had fallen asleep, remembering the livid look on Snape's face when he arrived at dinner and found out that Harry had conducted Quidditch practice that day. Snape had immediately sought out McGonagall in hopes of having Harry banned from attending Quidditch practices, but was shocked to hear the Headmistress declare that Harry had not stepped out of bounds, and that he, Snape, could conduct Slytherin's practice on his broom if he cared to.
Harry had been having a lovely dream about Snape riding an old Bluebottle broom, built for the family, with an anti-burglar buzzer that klaxoned every time Snape turned around, when he awoke with a start.
The small clock on his bedside table told him it was 12:34 – just past midnight, but he had a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach – the feeling that had first surfaced after the Second War begun and ended the moment he destroyed Voldemort. He sat up abruptly, amid the warmth and light provided by the smouldering fire in the hearth at the foot of his bed. An overwhelming feeling came over him – a feeling he'd not experienced in many years. Ginny. She needed him.
Harry threw back the covers and launched himself out of bed, rushing to the bureau to find something to wear. He quickly pulled a T-shirt over his head and pulled his jeans on, and not bothering with shoes, he grabbed his glasses and his wand and Apparated directly to Ginny's bedroom at the Burrow.
Ginny was sitting in the shadows on the floor, leaning up against the bed, holding her face in her hands, rubbing her temples. Her head snapped up at the sound of Apparition, and Harry's concerned face filled her field of vision. "Harry?"
"Ginny, what's wrong?" Harry demanded, crossing the room in short, quick strides, and he sunk to her feet to sit cross-legged at the side of her bed.
"Oh, Harry, it's nothing really; just me over-reacting to a long, tiring, and scary day." She plastered on a faux smile and reached out to pat his leg.
"Scary? What happened?" he asked, edging closer, so their knees were touching.
Ginny let out a sigh and ran her hands through her long, copper-red hair and pulled her head up to meet his eyes. "I've had a patient with an extremely high risk pregnancy, and on top of that, she's a widow – her husband just died last month. It was a really awful delivery, agonizingly long for the mother, and the baby almost died when 'its umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck. But thankfully heaven smiled on us, and everyone is OK. I'm just extremely tired and a bit shaken up." Ginny ruffled up the front of Harry's bed-head hair and smiled more genuinely, easing his tension. "Merlin, it's good to see you though."
Harry scoffed and returned her smile. "I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions and rushed over here in the middle of the night in a panic. I just woke up with this gnawing feeling – the old feeling – and I thought maybe you needed me."
"I always need you; I'm glad you came. I missed you this week."
Even in the dim light of the bedroom, Harry could see the blush creeping over Ginny's cheeks. "I missed you, too," he answered, feeling himself colour, as well.
"What are you doing tomorrow?" Ginny asked, turning to face Harry and rest her hands on his knees again.
Harry shook his head and shrugged. "Nothing."
"I have to check on my patient in Hogsmeade in the morning; how about we have lunch in town somewhere and go for a walk or something?"
"That sounds really nice," Harry admitted before letting a yawn escape. "Sorry."
Ginny smiled. "It's OK; I'm knackered, too." She gathered her hair into a ponytail and reached behind her for a tie to secure it.
Harry made to stand, up but Ginny grabbed his pant leg. "Harry, you didn't even wear any shoes over here!"
Harry dipped his head sheepishly and ruffled up the back of his hair. "I know; I just wanted to hurry over to you."
Ginny rose to her knees and leaned over, pressing a kiss to Harry's forehead. "I can't thank you enough."
Harry closed his eyes at the feeling of her lips on his scar. "Just think of it as repayment for the nights you came to see me at St. Mungo's after I woke up and the memories and nightmares started."
She rose from the floor and pulled Harry to his feet. "We've had that connection for a long time, haven't we?"
"Since the Chamber, although neither of us quite realized it, then. It should be me thanking you – for comforting me."
Ginny gently drew the back of her hand down Harry's face. "Let's call it a draw and just promise to keep being there for each other. Deal?"
He leaned forward and kissed her lips tenderly. "Deal," Harry affirmed as he pulled out his wand and readied himself to Disapparate.
Hogsmeade was bustling with activity: friendly shoppers running their errands on what was sure to be one of the last warm, sunny days before the start of fall. Harry and Ginny stepped out of the Three Broomsticks hand in hand, both with full tummies, Harry's a little fuller than Ginny's; he'd eaten his lunch and then finished what she couldn't eat of her own.
They meandered through town with their hands grasped together, saying 'hello' to the occasional passer by that they recognized, and began walking toward Harry's cottage and out of town. The faint whisper of wind made it a perfect day, a true end to summer, the precursor to the onset of winter. All around them, trees were turning brilliant shades of red, ranging from scarlet to deep wine, russet brown, all the way to darkest chestnut, pumpkin orange, and golden yellow. The falling leaves dusted the ground and descended and swirled all around them like falling snow.
Ginny had always thought of summer as the perfect season. The warm weather, bright sunlight, and sweet air seemed like natural aphrodisiacs for falling in love. The first time she'd really, truly fallen in love with Harry, as opposed to the schoolgirl's crush she had felt for him, was during summer. And here she was, falling in love with him all over again, on what was technically the autumnal equinox – the last day of summer, the first day of fall. She didn't want to tempt fate by asking how love had found them again.
A milky white, waxing gibbous moon was cresting over the horizon when Harry and Ginny began their walk back to Rose-Tree. Harry had asked Ginny several times if she wouldn't just rather Apparate back, due to the chill in the air, but she always said no while snuggling a little closer to him. When he slipped his arm around her waist and let his stride fall into step with hers, it felt like a waking dream. It was simply amazing to be here with her, almost surreally perfect. In the short time they were apart since July, he'd tried to purge her from his mind, only to fail desperately and realize that he no more wanted her purged from his heart than from his sight. He didn't want to be without her anymore and instantly thought that it would be harder to watch her leave tonight than it ever had been. He remembered hearing her say that prayer under her breath in St. Mungo's and overheard it through Hermione's baby monitors: that Ginny never wanted to feel this way about anybody else; Harry could now truly understand her feelings and reciprocate them.
By late evening, Dobby, Winky, and the children had returned from the weekend holiday and were hard at work. Harry had taken Ginny through the house again, showing her the improvements he'd made for the Housewarming and some of the things he still intended to do. They finally retreated to the drawing room, where Dobby was serving coffee and biscuits.
Ginny prepared herself a cup of coffee, complete with lots of cream and sugar, kicked off her shoes, and curled up next to Harry on the couch. Harry wrapped one arm around her and casually began twisting a lock of her silky hair around his finger as she took small sips of the steaming drink.
Ginny could help but smile from behind the cup. This was her Harry. Harry had always been subtle: never ostentatious, never too bold, never took any liberties without her consent. At times he was playful and fun, evident that he was flirting or teasing, and at other times he was mysterious and smouldering, quietly and suggestively hinting at what he wanted. This was one of those times.
"The sun is setting earlier now," Harry said absently, looking to the French doors over to his right. "It's almost dark."
"Mm hmm," Ginny answered, emptying her cup of coffee and setting it down on the table next to her. When she resumed her position, leaning against Harry's shoulder, she instantly felt him sweep her hair over to the side and begin nibbling on her neck.
She let out a slow, hissing breath and let her eyes flutter closed. He pulled her closer so that she was sitting across his lap now, giving him easier access to the skin he was aching to taste. His teeth and tongue grazed her flesh in a simultaneous stinging and soothing sensations
Ginny was trying to keep rational thoughts in her head as Harry's hands were beginning to smooth across her back. In her current position, sitting transversely to Harry, she couldn't lavish any attention on him in return.
"Harry," Ginny whispered, opening her eyes and concentrating on stringing words together. "Harry, stop."
He shamefully pried his lips from her tender skin. "I'm sorry," Harry replied regretfully, blushing crimson and letting his head droop.
"No, don't be sorry; just hang on." Ginny rose from the couch and stepped around Harry, straddling his legs and easing herself down onto his lap. She smiled encouragingly, hoping he would resume his earlier actions.
Harry hesitantly rested his hands on the tops of her thighs, almost disbelieving that she would allow him such intimacy.
"All right, Harry?" Ginny asked ducking her head to meet Harry's eyes where they stared at her denim-clad thighs. She cupped his face in her hands and tilted his face upward and leaned in close to press an easy kiss to his lips.
His hands travelled up her legs, past the swell of her hips to the dip of her waist. Harry instantly deepened the kiss and hungrily grabbed a fistful of her jumper, pulling her tight to his chest.
Ginny felt a tingle enveloping her body, as if she'd been hit by lightning from the inside out as her breasts pressed tightly against Harry's chest. His hands ducked under the hem of the jumper and came into contact with the warm, smooth skin of her back while he held her tight, caught up in the intoxicating suffocation of their kiss. She slid her hands from the stubble along his chin, down over his chest, eager to find the edges of his own garments.
She deftly slid her hands under the hem of his jumper, frustrated to find another shirt underneath. She groaned against Harry's mouth in frustration. "Off," she panted, breaking the kiss.
When Harry didn't move fast enough, Ginny began tugging the jumper, pulling it over Harry's head, knocking his glasses askew. He smirked and straightened the frames while Ginny cast the woolly garment aside. Ginny returned Harry's smile, but did not think, relying solely on instinct, and began pulling Harry's shirt from the waist band of his jeans and slipped her hands underneath as she began to kiss him once again.
Her hands ran over the smooth, warm skin of his ticklish abdomen, causing him to smile against her lips and jump at her touch. He responded, in kind, as her tongue began to tangle with his, and he replaced his hands on her waist while he began to let his hands roam upward along her ribcage, exploring the softness of her body through her jumper. His hand casually brushed the sides of her breast, causing her to moan against his mouth and her nails to dig softly into his flesh.
Harry's lips broke away from hers and travelled along her jaw line toward her neck, breathlessly caressing the tender skin with gentle nips. Ginny panted his name quietly, enticing him further. Her hands slid upward, pushing Harry's shirt up and, catching it on her wrists, she was suddenly desperate with the need to feel the whole of his chest and for him to feel hers, as well.
She removed her hands from Harry's chest and instantly found his collar and hastily began to unbutton the shirt. Her breathing was rapid and ragged, giving Harry courage and a yearning to feel her skin under his own hands.
Ginny felt him gripping her jumper once again and working his way underneath the rolled hem. His hands explored her soft skin as Ginny finally unhooked the last button and pushed his shirt open, exposing his chest. She leaned into his body, slowing dragging her lips over the taut skin where his neck met his shoulder. Her hair now tickled the exposed flesh, and Harry wanted her now, more than ever.
Harry lifted one hand, letting it rest over the place where he hoped Ginny's heart was beating as rapidly as his was. Ginny closed her eyes and savoured the feeling of his hand touching her once again. She wondered if Harry could hear her heart beating; it was so loud. Her breaths were shallow and quick, and the fact that she knew Harry's eyes were fixed on her right at that moment was the most intimidating thing she'd considered in a long time. Her chest was aflutter, as if a fairy had taken up residence within her, and her mind reeled with a thousand thoughts.
Could she make Harry happy? Did he really want her? Did Harry think of her as tainted in some way? Was she really and truly forgiven? Was she pretty enough? Harry could have his pick of anyone in this world; why would he want pale, freckled, red haired Ginny Weasley?
She opened her eyes and smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring manner and reached up with a shaky hand to caress Harry's face.
Harry grasped her hand in his own and let it rest on his bare chest. "You're shaking," he stated in a concerned voice.
Ginny laughed anxiously. "Yeah, um to be honest, I'm a bit, er, nervous."
"Why?" Harry asked, astounded and worried he wasn't pleasing her.
She sighed heavily. "It's been a long time, Harry; I just want to make you happy. It's a little daunting. Over the summer, I had too many other things to worry about; I wasn't worried that it had been five years since we'd made love; I just want everything to be so perfect," she whined, putting her head on Harry's shoulder.
"It's all right, Love," Harry declared, wrapping his arms around her and slowly rocking back and forth. "Listen, I'm sorry; I'm rushing. You deserve better than shagging on my couch."
Ginny laughed. "No, that's not what I meant." She pushed his chest playfully as he locked his arms around her waist.
"I know what you meant, but I meant what I said. You're better than this; we're better than this."
"What did I do to deserve you?" she asked, pecking his lips.
Harry hugged her close, letting his hands savour the all to brief contact with her skin. "You didn't do anything but be yourself; that's the best thing about you, and the only thing I'll ever ask of you. That's the Ginny I know and fell in love with."
She sighed with defeat and rested her forehead against Harry's. "I'm sorry; I promised you when the twins were born to just wait a few more days," she scoffed. "You now know why. I meant what I said the night of the Christening… about letting both you and Dean know the truth in a gentle manner. I didn't intend to hurt anyone, least of all you. And so now here I am, in effect, asking you to wait for me, again. Besides," she added embarrassedly, "I'm, er, not exactly on the right potions, you know."
Harry smiled and blushed. "I'll wait as many days as you need."
Harry's housewarming party was rapidly approaching, and plans were still being made, broken, resurrected, and changed again. Hermione hadn't gone completely spare over Harry's hiring of Dobby and his family, citing that she would rather have them working, with pay, of course, for Harry than for Hogwarts and having many more people to serve. Harry was glad she had spared him a lecture; it wasn't in doubt – he would never hire another house-elf.
Ginny was disappointed that she hadn't been able to think of anything to get Harry for his housewarming and hadn't any time to buy anything, anyway. What to buy the wizard who could buy himself anything he wanted? She wanted to buy something personal, but not so personal that she would be embarrassed, or worse, embarrass Harry when he opened it. She would rather give him her gift (whatever it was!) privately, but didn't want to appear ungracious to her host, either. She didn't want to ask anyone about it and knew if she did, they would nose in, and so Ginny spent her nights praying for inspiration.
In addition to not knowing what to buy Harry, Ginny had no clue what to wear. She didn't exactly view herself as stunning, but wanted to attempt to be so. It was fall, and fall colours seemed to suit her best, which was proving to be a blessing, but her closet was full of aqua coloured Mediwitch robes – not dress robes. She hadn't had much use for them lately. The last time she had dressed up was Ron and Hermione's vow renewal, and the summery colour of that outfit was no longer appropriate. So, along with her other errands in the upcoming week, she needed to stop at Madame Malkin's.
Saturday arrived in grey gloom, but nothing seemed to defeat the mood of the ensuing party. Harry ran about the house, coordinating last minute details and making a last ditch effort to make everything look as good as possible. He put on his dress robes and made a halfhearted attempt to tame his hair. He hadn't seen Ginny since the Sunday before and was feeling particularly anxious to wrap his arms around her and feel her lips on his, and to hell with anyone who found their behaviour inappropriate.
Mrs. Weasley Apparated to Rose-Tree several times throughout the day, checking on Harry, dropping off food, and showing Harry how to arrange it all on the dining room table. The twins Apparated over during the late afternoon to get a feel for the house, in an effort to decorate it. Thank Merlin, Remus arrived shortly thereafter and prevented any serious mischief from being made. He was flabbergasted and deeply affected by the cottage. He stood with his hands in his pockets, his grey hair glinting in the faint light filtering in from the windows on the overcast day, and just shook his head. It seemed to Harry that he desperately wanted to say something, but wasn't sure what exactly to say. Harry put an arm around the shoulder of his parents' last remaining friend and sighed.
"What do you think?" he asked, soaking in the colourful atmosphere of the decorations the twins had Charmed to hang, droop, swirl, and liven up the hall of the posh cottage.
"I think your parents and Sirius would be so proud of you for doing something good with the money they left you, without being told to be responsible, I might add, and creating something for yourself that ultimately no one else could give you."
Harry smirked and let out the breath he had been holding in. He hadn't anticipated the housewarming to be so emotional; after all, it was just a house.
"Well, I'll take that as a compliment then; you knew them all better than I did, but you shouldn't overlook yourself in this ordeal. You helped me more than anyone; I couldn't have done any of this without you, Moony."
Lupin shook his head in denial and then let it hang. "I've let you down at times, Harry, kept things from you, orchestrated parts of your life –"
Harry interrupted him, "Hasn't everyone? Haven't I done all those things? It's part of life. Remember," he said, giving Lupin's shoulder a squeeze, "I wouldn't be the person I am today without your guidance."
A pop of Apparition startled Harry, and he turned around to see Ron, Hermione, and the twins behind him.
"Oh, Harry! It's beautiful!" Hermione exclaimed, her mouth dropping open as she turned in a tight circle examining her surroundings.
"A little help, Hermione!" Ron spat, struggling with one of the twins and two oddly wrapped boxes. He rolled his eyes and huffed at his wife, as Harry and Lupin smiled.
"Oh, sorry, darling," she replied contritely, setting down Benjamin in his carrier and retrieving her other son. Hermione instinctively handed Liam over to Harry and went back to attend to Ben. Remus quickly disguised his laugh with a cough and turned his back on the new family.
Harry decided, as he retrieved Liam out of his carrier, that he would wait and give everyone a tour at once to avoid having to explain things several times. However, Hermione had already asked several questions about the house: when it was built, the type of wood the banister was made of, how strong the wards were around the cottage, who the decorator was, and countless others than Harry didn't anticipate answering.
The guests began Apparating in steadily: Mr and Mrs Weasley, Regina and Kingsley Shacklebolt, Tonks, Charlie and Ekaterina, Bill and Fleur, Percy, Penny, and Peyton, Angelina and Katie, Neville and Luna, Seamus and Lavender, Parvati and her friend Sanjay, most of the Hogwarts staff, save perhaps Filch and Snape, arriving at staggered times so as not to leave the school to run amok in the hands of the students, and several Ministry wizards who were friends of Mr Weasley …everyone except Ginny.
Despite the barrage of questions, the tour, and the mingling and eating which ensued, Harry was worried about Ginny's tardiness and finally asked Molly about it.
"Oh, dear, you know Ginny; late as usual. She was having a particularly difficult time deciding what Charms to use on her hair. She'll be along, any time."
Dobby, who had volunteered to work the weekend, stood proudly in the dining room, wearing a cummerbund. Thankfully, he was acting on his best behaviour, chatting politely with guests as he poured them glasses of wine, Butterbeer, or some other interesting smoking Romanian drink that Ekaterina had graciously brought as they filled their plates with hors d'oeuvres.
Harry had not seen Ginny arrive, but suddenly among the laughter, chatter, and music from the Wireless, he saw the red haired witch, wearing perfectly tailored robes of iridescent green, and he was sure his heart dropped. Ginny was conversing with her mother, Hermione, and Tonks across the reception hall. His breath caught in his chest as his eyes swept up Ginny's body, staring at her from across the room. Her long red hair was styled into a spiralling mass of curls piled up on her head that plunged dangerously down her back and was framed by two little chandelier earrings. The locket he bought her hung around her neck. Her brown eyes sparkled with such intensity that Harry swore they contained flecks of gold. The new teal green dress robes hugged every curve of her glorious body, and Harry's eyes followed the hem of the dress down the curve of her tight calf muscles, noticing she was elevated on a pair of heels that persuaded her legs to look enticingly longer than they actually were. Breathtaking wasn't an eloquent enough word to describe her.
Ginny's eyes darted up and looked in Harry's direction. A dazzling smile spread across her face when she caught him openly staring. Harry smirked, unabashed, and suddenly realized someone had asked him a question.
"Sorry, Kingsley, what was that?" he asked, almost dropping his glass as he tore his eyes off Ginny and turned toward the man approaching him. He smiled and pushed his glasses up further on his nose.
"Going to teach your students the Patronus?"
"Oh, um, I'd like to; they're quite well studied under Susan Bones."
Harry's eyes darted back toward Ginny, where she was greeting Penny and smothering Peyton in kisses. It was endearing to watch.
"Excellent!" Kingsley offered, clapping his hands together. "You'll let us know if there's anyone with distinct Auror potential, won't you?"
"No problem," Harry began, looking directly at Kingsley Shacklebolt. "Excuse me, won't you?" he declared with a polite smile and looked over to see an empty space where he had seen Ginny only a moment before.
Mrs Weasley and Penny were now standing alone, and Ginny and Hermione were gone.
"Er, Mrs Weasley, do you know where Ginny went?"
Mrs Weasley smiled shrewdly. "Yes dear, she's just gone off to help Hermione with the babies. Oh, look, Headmistress McGonagall is here."
The Headmistress was indeed walking toward Harry when he turned around. A faint smile pulled at the corners of her thin lips. "Everything looks wonderful, Harry."
Harry returned the smile and absentmindedly took a drink of the smoking Romanian drink in his hand. "Thanks. I'm glad you could make it."
She waved him off. "Once in a while, I feel confident leaving Severus in charge."
Harry wasn't sure whether he should laugh or not, but was glad that some of the other Hogwarts faculty members had also arrived. He was immediately flattered that his new colleagues thought enough of him to come to the party, but he had really intended to introduce Ginny to the few she might not have known, Bonnie Jean Campbell most prominently. Harry was disappointed that he had yet to see the cheery librarian.
After conversing with the Hogwarts crowd, Harry excused himself to check on Dobby and some of the goings on in the kitchen, but was caught off guard by 'Tonks's lively voice.
"Hiya, Harry. Wotcher?" Tonks greeted him.
"Oh, hey, Tonks; how's it going?" Harry always felt guilty that it took him a minute to recognize the Metamorphmagi. Tonight her hair was deep mahogany brown with red streaks styled in a short bob haircut. Her dark eyes were partially hidden behind a pair of black, cat eye frame glasses with little rhinestones, and her robes were burgundy red and bore the seal of the Ministry's Auror Division. Harry thought she looked a bit too normal until he gazed down at her feet. Black, lace up combat boots with straps and buckles. Ah, yes; this was indeed more like Tonks.
"Swell. I just got a promotion in the Magical Law Enforcement Department. I'm a supervisor, now, and I'm Ron's boss."
"You're Ron's boss?" Harry asked incredulously, raising his eyebrows and beginning to laugh. "No way; oh, that's great. Give him hell, Tonks; he deserves it."
Tonks smirked. "Well, Kingsley is still my boss, but there's always time for a prank or two at the office."
Movement suddenly caught Harry's eye, and he saw Ginny descending the stairs with Hermione and the little twins. She smiled seductively and stood at the foot of the stairs twirling a lock of hair that had escaped from her up-do. She could have approached Harry right at that moment, inviting herself into a conversation with him and Tonks, but she chose not to, favouring Luna and Neville instead. She cast a look over her shoulder to ensure Harry was watching.
"Oh, er, Tonks would you be available or willing to come speak to a couple of my advanced classes sometime? I think they would enjoy hearing about life as a Metamorphmagus Auror."
"Sure, Harry, anytime. Just Owl me with a week or two's notice." Tonks looked around the high ceilinged reception hall and let out a low whistle. "Boy, Harry, this house sure is the dog's bollocks."
Harry thanked Tonks with a friendly smile and watched her stumble on the edge of the Persian rug that ran down the centre of the hall. She cursed, sloshing her drink down her arm, and mumbled an apology as guests looked on and giggled. If it would have been anyone else, Harry would have guessed they had had one too many Firewhiskeys, but this was Tonks.
Despite having seen Ginny walk into the drawing room with Neville and Luna, he decided it was absolutely necessary to check on Dobby.
Harry thanked heaven above that his very own house-elf family was on their best behaviour. He sighed happily as he surveyed the cleanliness of his kitchen and set off to find Ginny.
He smiled, striding through the reception hall, back to where his guests were waiting for him – where Ginny was waiting for him. He understood Ginny was being coy, flirtatious, and calculating, and he liked it. She knew she was making him barmy over it, ducking into a room, letting just a glimpse of herself be seen. Maybe he would play the game, too.
Mr Weasley, Bill, and Charlie were lingering at the threshold to the drawing room, conversing with professors Flitwick and Grubbly-Plank. As they were guests that he had yet to speak with, Harry stopped to chat. Ginny noticed him immediately.
From across the room Harry could see her eyes narrow as she gently pulled the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth and leaned against the wall for support. As Harry felt the betraying arousal of his body, he knew there was no way he could win this game. She'd already won before he'd even started. She was teasing him from all the way across the room, and he was falling for it. Worst of all, they weren't alone. Friends and family surrounded them, and she was deliberately provoking him. Was she ready? …because she certainly appeared to be. She was purposely acting coquettish to entice and excite him, and Harry was falling right into her trap. He coveted her so badly now that he wanted the party to be over – for his guests to leave – so they could finally be alone.
Ginny skirted the perimeter of the room, all the while locking her brown eyes on Harry, making him follow her. He was no longer listening to the conversation; his only focus was Ginny.
She weaved through the crowd, all the while keeping the same sly grin on her face. A kneazle who ate the Golden Snidget smile. Harry couldn't talk; he couldn't breathe; he couldn't move. He wanted to sweep her into his arms right that second and tell her that she belonged with him. He felt weak and wanted to hear her say she wanted him, too. He'd do anything just to hear her say it. She stopped abruptly and introduced herself to Bonnie Jean Campbell, who must have just recently arrived. Harry watched as Bonnie pulled Ginny into a big hug, taking the smug look off her face for a few moments. He laughed, alerting Fred and George, who scrambled over immediately.
"Smashing party, Harry, old chap."
"Right you are, Fred, smashing indeed. Say, Harry, we've achieved some results with your project."
"Huh?" Harry finally asked, jerking his gaze away from Ginny, who had just smiled at Harry from over her shoulder, and turned his attention toward her brothers.
"Making sheep's eyes at our little sister, Harry?" George questioned, elbowing Harry hard in the ribs.
"And in front of all these people, no less," Fred interjected.
"Really, young Potter, have you no shame?" George asked, gasping and placing a hand on his chest as he feigned shock.
Harry knew he was blushing the deepest shade of crimson, and he closed his eyes tight as he shook his head. "Let's just move on to this update," he said, eager to change the subject.
"As you wish, Harry," Fred answered with a look of innocent accommodation on his youthful, freckled face.
George smirked. "We've made the precise prototype, and it worked successfully. We've already been selling the potions in the stores for Halloween, but Snape's prank was a bit more involved."
"So, how does it work?" Harry wondered, taking a peek over his shoulder to see who might be eavesdropping.
"Well, we'd need to slip the potion into his drink at breakfast."
Harry winced. Snape was probably going to be more furious than any of them had ever seen him, and if any of them got caught doing this, Harry would probably lose his job at Hogwarts.
Almost sensing Harry's fears, Fred waved him off. "Worry not, ickle Harry. We'll do all the dirty work. I'm sure sneaking into the kitchens is as easy as 'it ever was; might we borrow your invisibility cloak, however?"
Harry nodded. "I'll drop it off at the shop Friday morning, before the match on Saturday."
"Cheers!" they said in unison, raising their glasses of the smoking Romanian drink. Harry smiled, raising his bottle of Butterbeer and tapped each of their glasses.
Molly Weasley suddenly bustled into the room and cleared her throat loudly, "I think it's time for Harry to open his gifts, and we'll serve pudding afterward."
Gifts? You brought gifts to a housewarming? Harry was suddenly glad he'd never been invited to a housewarming; he would not have known to bring a gift. He suddenly felt embarrassed. He hoped they would not sing, "For He's A Jolly Good Wizard."
Harry lost sight of Ginny when he left the drawing room and found Bonnie Jean instead. Bonnie was simply ecstatic that she'd met Ginny personally and was happy to discover her to be as lovely as Harry had always made her out to be. Bonnie Jean told Harry that she and Ginny spoken about the articles that had surfaced in the Daily Prophet over the summer. Bonnie Jean had confessed that she hadn't believed a word and knew they had all been rubbish. Harry couldn't contain his smile any longer. By the time he was done with his plans, everyone would know Ginny wasn't the scarlet woman half the wizarding world thought she was.
Harry stood amongst his friends and the only true family he'd ever known as he began opening the gifts they had brought with them. He truly hadn't anticipated receiving gifts and wished he had told them not to bring any. With the exception of Christmas mornings with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, he hadn't ever received so many gifts, let alone had to open them in front of other people. They all hovered over him, eating cake prepared by Mrs Weasley, and oohing and ahhing every time Harry opened something. He couldn't ever remember feeling so stupid as he sat on a chair in the middle of the dining room with everyone standing around him.
Fruit baskets, candles, a photo album, a sundial, stationary, a faux fur felt blanket (he had to admit he could think of a few good scenarios with this blanket and Ginny in front of the fire), a Muggle garden gnome, and a doormat that read "I can see up your robes!" from Fred and George, along with a box full of their latest jokes, gadgets, sweets, and contraptions.
From Mr and Mrs Weasley, he received Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests, Jack Hammer's Hocus Pocus Handy Home Fix-It Repair, Practical Household Magic by Zamira Gulch, One Minute Feasts – It's Magic! and Ginger Greenthumb's Bewitch and Ban your Backyard Blights.
From Ron, he got a beautiful Wizarding Chess set with a handwritten offer to whup Harry's arse at his earliest convenience, and Hermione quickly handed him the oddly wrapped present he'd seen them Apparate in with. Harry suspiciously tore off the paper to reveal a framed, painted portrait of Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and himself from their final year together at Hogwarts – not long before the final battle with Voldemort. Colin had encountered them all at Hogsmeade and had taken their photo outside 'Honeydukes. Harry carefully balanced the frame on his knees as he gazed at the four, young, hopeful, happy faces in the portrait.
"Mrs Creevey sent me the picture several years ago," Hermione started, patting Harry's shoulder. "It was still in Colin's camera when he died. It wasn't very interesting because it was just a Muggle photo, but I decided to have it turned into a painting. I hope you like it."
Harry forced himself to swallow the emotions that were surfacing. "How could I not like it?"
Hermione smiled shyly and shrugged. "We just didn't want you to feel like we all wanted to you live in the past. We just want you to remember what a nice time we all had together."
He nodded, unable to say anything else. He was spoiled, and by far, this was one of the best gifts he did or would ever receive. "Thank you," he whispered, turning first to Hermione and then to Ron. "It means a lot to me."
Before the mood got too sombre, Ginny spoke up, finally, "Looks like only my gift is left."
Harry thought he saw the mischievous look return to her eyes for only a moment, but figured Ginny would never go as far as embarrassing either of them in front of this many people by getting him some audacious gift. Harry rose from the dining room table where he'd been sitting as Ginny pushed the square, deep box toward him. It scooted across the table as light as a feather, and Harry instantly wondered what was inside.
Everyone looked on with anticipation, while Harry ripped off the paper and began opening the strange box. He folded back the box top to reveal – placemats. Placemats?
"Er, 'they're placemats," he declared in confusion, taking out a placemat with a depiction of dancing fruit on it. "Oh, look, there's one for each food group; um, thanks, Gin." Harry began pulling each of the odd placemats from the box but blanched as he lifted the Meat group mat.
Underneath the final mat was something soft, slinky, lacy, and black. When Harry's knuckles brushed the delicate fabric, it definitely got his attention. He couldn't control the fire that burned on his face, betraying his innocence. This was definitely a gift he hadn't anticipated. There was no doubt left in Harry's mind that Ginny was now ready to be with him again.
"Everything OK, Harry?" Ginny asked in a sweet, teasing voice.
"Erm, yes!" he squeaked loudly as his voice cracked. "I mean, yes, thanks for the lovely placemats," he answered, throwing them back into the box and folding the flaps shut again. He quickly set several other boxes on top of it.
"Anytime," she added, refusing to turn away from his vivid green eyes.
"Well," Molly cut in, breaking the strange tension enveloping the room. "Should we sing 'He's a Jolly Good Wizard'?"
"There's still my gift," Lupin interrupted, saving Harry from two of the most uncomfortable moments he'd ever experienced.
"Oh, Remus, I'm sorry. How could I be so foolish, of course, shall we step outside then?"
Harry shook his head as he followed the entire party outside. This is so weird. Harry thought to himself as they all trudged out onto the lawn. He could only hope this would not be as mortifying as what had just happened in the dining room. He felt light headed. His mind was swimming and reeling with emotions. He was definitely aroused and really and truly wanted this party to be over with; he wanted Ginny to himself.
Remus was standing by something quite large that was covered in some type of cloth or sheet. Harry swallowed, unable to guess or ascertain what might be lurking under that sheet in some crazy attempt at a housewarming gift. Everyone gathered around Lupin, who looked up over his shoulder, taking into account the moon's light. It was an eerie sight.
Molly Weasley was gently nudging Harry forward from his inconspicuous place in the crowd, pushing him toward the centre of the circle where Lupin stood next to the gift.
"I'm not going to lie; this took a lot of work, Harry," Remus began, a smile stretching across his face. "This kind of thing isn't really my forte, and I'm not ashamed to say I had to ask for some help from Arthur and Bill Weasley. I probably would have given you this gift on your eighteenth birthday, but well –" His voice faded away.
Harry nodded in understanding. He knew what Lupin wanted to say, and he didn't really care to hear the words, anyway.
"Anyway, it's all yours, now, as it should have been several years ago."
Without any hesitation or flourishes of any kind, Lupin pulled off the fabric revealing the coolest thing Harry had ever seen – a black motorbike.
"It was Sirius's," Remus began. "He would have wanted you to have it. I just ask that you will be careful. We rather like you being out of St. Mungo's."
Harry simply stood in awe of the black, shiny object in front of him. He was speechless. Harry knew he was rescued by Hagrid on Sirius's motorbike, and heard stories of its purchase and subsequent adventures, but he'd never seen it for himself. He felt tears threatening his eyes. "I don't know what to say."
"I know what to say," Ron interjected. "Bloody brilliant!"
"Ron!" Hermione snapped, backhanding her husband on the arm.
"This is just – amazing," Harry declared, absolutely flabbergasted, staring open-mouthed at the motorbike.
Remus laughed hollowly. "I remember Sirius and James saying the same thing. I'll give you a crash course, no pun intended, on the bike and teach you anything I know about it."
"Where has this been?" Harry asked, taking several steps closer, suddenly unembarrassed, and unaware that anyone else was even there.
"Grimmauld Place. Sirius was dying –"
Harry knew that Remus was about to say, dying to ride it, and wished Lupin hadn't said the word.
"Sirius wanted to ride it quite badly, but Dumbledore forbade it, and he even went so far as to hex it so Sirius wouldn't make a half hearted attempt."
Lupin seemed reminiscent and sad for a few moments, but quickly snapped out of his reverie. "Anyway, so, she's all yours now. Sirius would absolutely love this," Lupin explained, gesturing for Harry to take a seat on the bike. "It's a standard kick start. Believe it or not, it's not completely unlike riding a broomstick. Same premise. anyway. Oh, by the way, it's not invisible, so you'll have to be careful with that, and it can be driven on the ground, as well."
Harry addressed the motorbike and hesitantly threw one leg over the seat. He couldn't help but think that this was the coolest thing he had ever seen. It felt almost as natural to sit on the motorbike as it was to sit astride his broomstick. "Blimey, this is awesome."
Laughter around him suddenly made Harry realize that he and Remus weren't alone, and he remembered his guests. "Oh, er, sorry, everyone; I didn't mean to ignore anyone. You're thoughtfulness has really caught me off guard, and I can't tell you all how much I appreciate it."
Harry stepped off the bike as everyone came over to congratulate him, look at the bike, and some, to say goodnight. The group from Hogwarts offered their congratulations on the new house and the motorbike and returned to the school grounds. Harry bade them all goodnight and thanked them, all the while trying to drown out Ron's yelling ("Can I have a go, Harry?").
Lupin covered the bike back up and retreated, with the others, toward the house. Harry looked around for Ginny, again, but she was nowhere to be seen. He followed the rest of the party into the house as more and more guests were beginning to leave. Harry imagined Mr and Mrs Weasley and Ron and Hermione lingering around late, keeping him from crashing into his bedroom with Ginny in his arms.
He felt impatient, nervous, aroused, and paranoid that everyone knew what he and Ginny were up to, or wanted to be up to. Finally it was only members of the Weasley family that remained, and Harry finally needed to know where Ginny had disappeared to this time.
"Er, where's Gin?" he found the courage to ask as he plopped onto the couch between Ron and Bill.
"Why do you want to know, Harry?" Bill chided, causing Ron and the twins to howl with laughter. Remus and Charlie merely smiled, but did nothing to ease Harry's suffering. "I've heard all sorts of rumours at home about you two."
"Shut it," Harry replied, pushing himself off the couch and deciding to leave the room before the teasing got any worse. He ducked out of the drawing room and turned the corner toward the hall and kitchens, hearing the gales of laughter echoing from the room behind him. He shook his head, not wanting to know what had been said, and stopped in the middle of the reception hall, convinced he'd heard a popping sound coming from his study.
As Harry approached, he noticed the door was open and the lights were off, but a quick glance and the glow of light from the hallway indicated that nothing was wrong or out of place, nevertheless, Harry peeked inside the room.
A pair of small, strong hands grabbed his collar and pulled him inside the dark recesses of the room. He was yanked forward sharply and came into contact with a pair of warm, soft lips.
The kiss left no doubt in Harry's mind that it was Ginny. She pulled his body firmly against hers until she stumbled, pushing them into the wall of Harry's study. At the last second Harry raised his arms to brace himself and to avoid crushing her completely. She let go of Harry's collar with one hand and snaked it up into Harry's hair holding him firmly in place as she hooked one leg around Harry's.
Harry had waited all night for this and was convinced it was a dream, or worse, a nightmare, and he would wake up in bed alone.
Ginny broke the deep kiss, but continued to nip at Harry's lips as she whispered. "Get rid of them. I don't care how you do it, but please, get rid of them."
Harry released the tension on his arms and leaned in closer, capturing her mouth in another heated kiss, parting her lips with his tongue, enticing her to follow suit. He dropped one hand from the wall and rested it momentarily on her waist before letting it slowly smooth over the silky fabric that graced her body. His lips trailed from her mouth down, over her neck, to the décolletage of her teal green dress robes. "Give me fifteen minutes," he breathed against her skin, causing little goose bumps to form.
Harry regretfully tore his lips from Ginny's warm, sweet-tasting skin and staggered from the room, unable to think straight.
His hands smoothed up over his face and under his glasses as he pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. He didn't know what to say to Mrs Weasley to get her to leave without him seeming ungrateful. He pushed open the swinging door to find all the Weasley women and the intended ones tidying up.
"Really, you've already done so much for me; you don't have to tidy up," Harry offered, gesturing for them all to stop.
"Oh, nonsense, dear; it's no trouble."
"Ve're almost done, anyvay," Ekaterina declared, putting away the newly cleaned silver and china.
"Great party, Harry," Katie added, putting away the leftovers.
"Mm hmm," Harry answered with a shudder, remembering the way Ginny felt under his hands just now.
"I tink Bill wants to ride zee motorbike," Fleur cut in.
Each of the women spoke simultaneously.
"So does Ron!"
"And Charlie."
"The twins."
"Even Percy!"
"Arthur, as well."
They all cackled as Harry stood there uncomfortably and tapped his toes impatiently.
"Something wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked, stepping toward her friend and resting a hand on his shoulder.
"No, I'm just, er, tired, that's all," Harry lied, hoping they wouldn't see right through him.
"Well, of course you are; silly me, no wonder you want us out of here. Yes, you've had a long day, dear."
It's about to get even longer, he contemplated.
Hermione gave him a knowing grin and hurriedly continued to clean up the kitchen while Harry took the opportunity to duck out of the room.
Ginny was descending the stairs, wearing a suspicious grin as Harry rounded the corner toward the drawing room ahead of the gaggle of women behind him.
"C'mon, you lot," Molly announced, patting Harry's back as she passed him to enter the drawing room. "Let's get out of here; poor Harry looks dead on his feet."
"Oh, on the contrary, Mum," George replied, nudging his twin, both of them rising from the couch and approaching Harry.
Fred grabbed Harry's cheek and gave it a pinch. "I agree with my brother. Harry's looking rather young, healthy… one might almost call it virile. Don't you think, George?"
"I do indeed, brother, dear. I'd go out on a limb and guess Harry won't go to bed – I mean fall asleep – for a few hours, yet."
Harry shot both of the twins an evil glare as his cheeks coloured scarlet.
"Oh, nonsense; leave poor Harry alone." She turned to Harry and took his face in her hands, giving him a warm smile. "Harry, dear, we've had a lovely time; the house looks beautiful, and we couldn't be happier for you."
Harry returned Mrs Weasley's grin and then turned to look at the only real family he'd ever known. "I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me. It didn't start with tonight, but rather eleven years ago. I appreciate it more than you'll ever know."
"Our pleasure, Harry. Molly's right, the house looks great, and you've moved past your worst fears," Arthur added, stepping forward to shake Harry's hand.
One by one, each of them Disapparated after giving Harry a hug or a handshake and telling him they had a lovely evening, until only Molly and Ginny remained.
"I think I'll stay a while longer, Mum."
Molly's eyes widened as she took in Harry's obvious embarrassment and Ginny's obvious lack thereof. "Oh, all right, then," she replied as a look of understanding dawned upon her face. After all, Ginny was not a little girl anymore. "Goodnight," she added with a small smile.
Harry stood dumbly on the threshold of the hall and the drawing room, looking at the place where Molly Weasley had been only moments before. He and Ginny were finally alone, and he had no idea what to say. Ultimately, he settled on something. "Blimey, you almost killed me tonight."
"Well, that was the point, wasn't it?"
"To kill me?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Well, no, but maybe to stop your heart for a split second," Ginny answered coyly.
"Ruddy hell, I thought I was going to die when I opened that package, Ginny," Harry complained, clutching his chest as he did so.
"Well, if you don't like me and my presents, I could just leave," Ginny responded, in mock annoyance, moving away from him.
"I didn't say that, either," Harry answered, catching Ginny's waist and pulling her into an embrace. "I'm rather fond of it, to tell you the truth," Harry answered in reference to the black lingerie he'd found in the bottom of the box of placemats, before placing a soft, easy kiss on her lips. His hands began to roam downward from the dip of her waist to the fullness of her hips and around to the curve of her bum. He felt her breathing hitch in her chest.
"Ginny, I want you," Harry whispered, enjoying the way her body felt underneath the silky fabric of her dress robes.
"I'm all yours," Ginny hissed in Harry's ear, gently taking the lobe between her lips.
"Gin," Harry growled eagerly, sliding his hands up the sides of her body, brushing over the curve of her breasts on his way up to cradle her face, holding it in place, forcing her to look into his green eyes. "I need you to be honest with me. I really want this; I really want to be with you, and I need to hear you tell me that you want me, too. Did you take your potions tonight?"
Ginny smiled and nodded, reaching to take Harry's face in her own hands. "Harry James Potter, I'm in love with you, I always have been, and I always will be. I need you, and I want you to take me upstairs, right now, and make love to me all night long."
It was all the prompting Harry needed to literally sweep her off her feet and press his lips to hers as he carried her up the stairs. Her shoes slipped off and tumbled noisily down the steps as their tongues met in heated fury, tangling around one another's as Harry ascended the stairs and entered the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.
The only light that penetrated the room was from the blazing fire that cracked and popped in the hearth, casting elongated shadows on the walls of the spacious bedroom. Neither of them seemed to notice or care about their shadows mimicking their playful pantomime on the walls.
Harry broke the kiss to set Ginny on the bed. He stood beside the grand Edwardian bedstead and once again gazed into her eyes for reassurance. There was no hesitation, no fear, and no hidden agendas behind the beautiful brown eyes he'd first noticed so long ago. There was only excitement, sensuality, and a longing look that was begging to be satisfied.
"Harry," Ginny whispered, rising up to loosen the Windsor knot in his tie. "I'm not turning back; I want this; I want you."
He gently pushed her fingers out of his way and tore off the tie in one liquid movement and threw it like a lasso across the room. His robes were the next obstruction to go, and he hastily shook them from his shoulders, letting the fabric fall to the floor, disregarded. Ginny's hands dashed to the row of buttons still closing his shirt, keeping his skin away from hers. Her fingers quickly and nimbly removed each fastener from the buttonhole, revealing more and more of his toned chest. As she reached the final button, she slid her fingers underneath the cloth, caressing Harry's ticklish abdomen and separating the front of the shirt. Her fingers snaked up the centre of his chest, pushing the shirt aside, and finally her fingers crested his shoulders, and she stopped to remove the two silver cufflinks at each wrist that cruelly kept the shirt still clinging to his body. Cufflinks removed, the shirt skimmed over the skin and joined the pile of clothing on the floor. Harry caught her lips in a series of short, tantalizing kisses as Ginny let her hands roam over the newly bared skin, careful to trace along the curve of his pectoral muscle, the rigidity of his collarbone, and the shallow depression of his breastbone that led to the arc of each rib. With each pass of her hand, Harry's skin recessed away from her capricious touch, and his lips curved upward into a smile.
"You're overdressed," he stated plainly, nipping sharply at her neck before soothing it with a soft stroke of his tongue. His masculine fingers began to unbutton the long chain of satin covered buttons that ran from the low décolletage all the way down to the middle of her thigh, closing the front of Ginny's robes. There were easily more than fifty of the small, round buttons.
"Rip it," Ginny panted, tilting her head to give Harry's eager lips easier access to the delicate skin below her ear. "It can be fixed later; I don't really care."
Harry's lips stopped their progress and his hands rested against her breasts, grasping the two sides of the fabric tightly. "I'll buy you a dozen more just like this, I promise," Harry offered apologetically.
"Just bloody rip it," she pleaded, closing her eyes and arching her body towards Harry's.
Harry's strong hands tore apart the centre of the dress robes, scattering buttons everywhere throughout the room. Ginny's body jerked forward, colliding with Harry's in a painfully stimulating way.
Harry was ecstatic to see she had already dressed in the black, lace nightie that accompanied his dancing food placemats, and stood idle for several moments simply taking in her sensuous beauty. He quickly rationalized that must have been why she disappeared after he received the motorbike. Coming to his senses, Harry peeled the clingy fabric of her dress robes off her shoulders and down the freckled length of her arms. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling the web-like pattern of the lace against his fingertips. His hands travelled upward until they encountered the thin wisps of hair that had loosened from her up-do and spiralled down onto the back of her neck. Harry wound the delicate strands around his finger as he pressed a kiss to the pressure point on her neck.
"Oh, Harry," Ginny breathed letting her head fall back and weaving her fingers deep into the back of Harry's untidy hair. "Oh, I missed you so much."
Standing there in the darkened room, Harry knew he had missed her, too, even if he had spent five years unconscious and dead to everyone but her. He could feel it in his body's response to her; the way his mind instantly retreated to memories they'd made years ago; the way her body responded in kind. He could feel the blood racing through her veins as his mouth hungrily nibbled at her neck. "I missed you too, love," he whispered against her tender skin, palming the back of her neck with his hand. Instinctively, he reached for his wand stowed away in his back pocket and pointed it at the back of Ginny's head.
"Finite," he said under his breath, causing the mass of curls atop Ginny's head to come tumbling down in a cascade of red.
She smiled slyly and crooked her finger at him, beckoning him toward her as she retreated toward the bed. She eased back onto the bed, propping herself up on her elbows, and locked eyes with Harry as he swallowed laboriously and crawled up onto the bed, leaning over her.
Ginny cradled the back of his neck with her hand and pulled him closer to her, meeting his lips in a searing kiss, parting his lips with her tongue, seeking out every corner of his delicious mouth, and enticing him to do the same with her.
She parted the kiss and lifted her head eager to taste him, asshekissed his top lip. "Harry, I need you."
"I never thought I'd hear you say that again," he replied, sentimentally.
"I'll always need you," she breathed against his lips. "I'll always need you, I'll always want you, and I'll always love you."
His green eyes locked upon her brown ones as the back of her hand caressed his cheek. "Gin, I love you, and I need you, too."
Her eyes clouded with tears at his words, having feared that she would never hear them again. "I love you, too; You're still my one and only."
Her eyes were darkened with desire in the absence of the firelight reflecting off of them, but the fire in the hearth illuminated her hair, making it blaze like a wildfire, and the curves of her body were highlighted by the flickering light. He could barely see the freckles that peppered her body, but he knew they were there. The only things she wore were her jewellery and a smile. She was beautiful; there was no other way to describe her. Ginny leaned down, pressing the warmth and softness of her body to Harry's chest as she kissed his lips, his chin, his neck, and his earlobe, and nipped playfully at his shoulder.
Harry collapsed breathlessly onto her chest, pushing his glasses askew and feeling the deep rise and fall of her body as she tried to recover. He brushed his cheek against the skin over her heart, hearing each contraction slow just a little bit with every beat. He felt her hands leave him and go to her face, while a broken sigh made her chest collapse.
He meant to sit up, but her hands returned to his arms, grabbing him quickly. "Did I hurt you?" he asked suddenly, horrified that she was in pain.
She shook her head as a tear spilled from her eye. "No, you were perfect and amazing, and I can't believe I've finally made love to you, again."
Harry rose a little further off her chest and smiled while he swept a wispy tendril of coppery-red hair away from her face. "I love you, Freckles," he said softly, nuzzling her nose with his own.
She let out something between a laugh and a sob and brushed the fringe off his forehead. "I love you, too, Harry."
It was torture to become two disembodied souls once again, but Harry pressed one more kiss to her lips and got up from the bed to pull the fluffy duvet back.
"Oh!" she gasped excitedly, causing his head to snap up. "I almost forgot; do you want your real housewarming gift now?"
Harry gaped openly at her and bent over to pick up the lingerie she had worn not long ago. "You mean this isn't my present?" he asked incredulously. "This might have been the best gift I've ever received," he teased, letting a smirk play on his lips.
Ginny rolled her eyes and smiled back, before striding across the room to a small bag sitting on the floor by the sofa that Harry hadn't noticed when they stormed into the room. She retrieved a small, dragon-leather box and handed it to Harry with a big smile on her face. "Here."
He smiled crookedly and carefully opened the lock on the very old looking box. It smelled of pipe tobacco and old cologne. He opened the lid to find an antique pocket watch with a fine, old English lion embossed on the watch's outer case.
"It was my granddad's," Ginny began, watching his face marvel at the timepiece. "It's kind of a long story, how it got to be mine and not the boys, but I was very close to my grandfather growing up, and most of the boys were already away at school. I can remember sitting on his lap and asking to see the watch so that I could see the gears working and listen to the soft ticking." She looked down at the floor and paused for a moment, "I know it's not as fancy as the one Olivia Ollivander got for you, but I knew you needed a watch."
Harry contradicted her with a headshake, "Ginny, this is amazing." He held the watch to his ear and smiled listening to the tick-tock, tick-tock, over and over. "I don't think I should take it, though."
"Yes, you should," she answered. "He gave it to me, and it's my choice what becomes of it. I want you to have it."
Harry seated himself on the bed as he stared at the watch. "Thank you," he declared, setting the watch tenderly on the night table. "I have something for you, too."
Ginny climbed into the bed next to him and pulled the covers up over her bare skin as Harry leaned over, opening the drawer of the night table and retrieving an oblong box. "Here," he said, presenting her with it.
Ginny blushed and removed the lid. Inside was a bracelet with a small, golden key charm. "It's beautiful," she whispered.
It's not only a bracelet, it's an offer, as well," Harry indicated, taking it from the box and linking it around her slender wrist.
"An offer?" Ginny asked.
"Yes, Gin, I want you to move in with me."
The thought was staggering. Ginny stared openly at Harry, trying to ascertain whether or not he was telling the truth. "Move in?"
"Yes, I want you to live here with me at Rose-Tree."
Hot tears stung her eyes. "Oh, Harry. Do you think it's a good idea? I've spent the last few months being trashed by the Daily Prophet; simply being with me will put you back on the front pages and might even jeopardize your job."
He turned toward her in the bed, shifting the covers as he did so. "Gin, I don't care about those things; I just care about you. Please?"
She couldn't contain her smile any longer and leaned in to press a gentle kiss on his lips before parting his lips cautiously with her tongue. "What if we just keep this from everyone else; let it be our secret. The press will find out when we let them know," she declared with a smile, settling against his body and pulling his arms around her, fingering the red, yarn string he still wore on his wrist.
Harry smirked. "That's the kind of secret I could live with for a little while," he finished, tickling Ginny's sides, causing raucous laughter to fill the room. "But let's not think of the Daily Prophet, or anything else; I have other things on my mind."
Harry yanked the covers over their heads, and they disappeared beneath the duvet in fits of squeals, giggles, and laughter.
Author's Note: An especially large Thank You goes out to my beta, Karen, who works her magic with patience and respect while my chapters just keep growing.
Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews, the next chapter is underway, I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.
The song Lavender Blue is a song from the 17th century that was popularised by Burl Ives in the 1940's. My gram and my mum have always sung it, and I've just always liked it.