What's My Line

On the fourth day following his recovery, Harry was finally allowed to go home to the Burrow. Originally, he was supposed to be released on the third, but a group of Healers had stood over his bed, examining him like some unfathomable specimen all morning, and then had finally balked at the last minute.

Madam Gobshank had patted his shoulder and assured him, "They're just worried because we still don't know what really happened to you, so they want to keep you an extra day to make sure you're back to your full health." She had smiled at him and joked, "No one wants to let you out into the world, only to have you pass out and end up back here, comatose all over again."

Ginny had sat by his side during these conversations, clutching his hand in a vice-like grip.

Harry was glad for her show of support. He hadn't been to the Burrow since the Quidditch World Cup, and he was eager to return to the familiar setting and get on with his life. He was silently pleased to know that Ginny was just as anxious to have him back in her family home, where he belonged.

Now, as he ploughed through his last hospital breakfast, he received a visitor he had been somewhat dreading. There was an important decision he had grappled with over the last few days and it seemed the moment had come when he would have to speak it aloud. As his stomach churned, Harry realized it was going to be more difficult than he had imagined. The last thing he wanted was to let such a staunch supporter down.

Professor McGonagall came bustling into his room, a roll of parchment clasped tightly in her hand. After inquiring about his health, while looking suspiciously misty-eyed, she quickly returned to her brusque facade and launched into the reason for her visit. "Potter, I've brought your application for the Auror program. I didn't want to bother you while you were still in hospital, but I'm afraid you really need to start working on it. The deadline has already passed, but I have no doubt they will make an exception in your case. Even so, training begins on September the first, and we need to get this filed as soon as possible."

As she started spreading out the parchment on his beside table, Harry decided it was best to speak before he lost his nerve. "Professor, I've decided I don't want to be an Auror."

McGonagall froze as she stared at him. "You're not going to apply?"

Harry nodded.

Her lips went very thin as she asked, "May I ask why you have changed your mind?"

Being an Auror was a dream Harry had harboured since he was fourteen, and giving it up was both frightening and hard, but he knew he had to let it go. The very idea now felt terribly wrong. All of his instincts screamed against it.

The last few nights, as he'd entertained the possibility of having to fight for his own survival again, he'd been overcome with a feeling of suffocating exhaustion. Hadn't he just finished the greatest battle of his life? Did he really want to put himself, voluntarily, back in that same horrible position all over again? Even considering it completely killed the buzz of being alive, which he was enjoying immensely - and wasn't ready to let go just yet.

That, and he couldn't even imagine a scenario where handing his life over to the Ministry would ever be acceptable to him. The mere thought nearly had the power to make him feel physically ill.

Now, as he looked at the application spread before him, he realized he would rather spend the next month alone in St. Mungo's than fill that thing out.

But he didn't know how to express that without sounding overemotional, or perhaps a little paranoid, so instead he said, "I'm not sure it's the right path for me, anymore."

McGonagall's expression softened as she regarded him. "Do you know what career you do wish to pursue?"

Harry shrugged. "No, Professor." He hadn't gotten that far, really.

Thoughtfully, McGonagall asked, "Have you ever considered teaching?"

Harry simply stared at her, speechless. Was she really offering what it sounded like?

The older woman graced him with one of her rare smiles. "Albus was always very impressed with the work you did with your D.A. He mentioned it to me a number of times. And, Potter, Hogwarts will always have a place for you, should you want it."

Harry wanted to be certain he was understanding her correctly. "I could be a professor?"

"Not today," McGonagall amended. "But in time. I don't hold with hiring someone quite so young, fresh out of school himself. Severus was the youngest professor the school has seen during my tenure, but that was something of a special circumstance. You should go out, live your life a bit. Acquire a broader experience. Then, in a few years, perhaps you might consider coming back."

Harry wasn't sure. He had always thought of his professors as old. At least much, much older than himself. It was hard to picture himself in such a position. Even so, it was nice to hear an opening would be available to him, should he want it. He said a very grateful, "Thank you, Professor."

McGonagall rolled up the offending parchment and stowed it away in her robes. "And remember, Potter, my door is always open, should you need to discuss these matters further."

Then, in a shockingly warm gesture, she squeezed his arm, before bidding him, "Good day," and making her exit.

Pleasantly surprised by how well the conversation had gone, Harry got out of bed. He wanted to make sure he was dressed and ready to go when his friends arrived. Madam Gobshank had dropped off his release papers and said her enthusiastic goodbyes when she had delivered his breakfast. He was a free man, just as soon as he had a ride out of there. Apparently the recently comatose weren't allowed to Floo or Apparate.

He didn't have long to wait. As he was pulling his shirt over his head, there was a huge commotion out in the hall. Harry watched the door, a little apprehensive about what was happening and who, exactly, was about to walk through.

He didn't need to be nervous - a minute later, Ginny strolled in, a vision of calm beauty. She was wearing a lovely white sun dress, covered in tiny green flowers. Her hair was flowing over her bare shoulders in soft fiery waves. The pink gloss on her lips was a dead give-away that her appearance was no accident. She had fixed herself up for him, and Harry felt his heart swell in his chest. She adored him as much as he did her. And she had come to fetch him home.

Of course, Ron was ruining the idyllic picture a bit as he lectured his baby sister, "Ginny, this isn't school, you can get into serious trouble for attacking a person, right out in the open like that."

Her warm smile faded as she frowned at her annoying brother. "You've been spending too much time with Hermione. I was protecting Harry, wasn't I? With the way the Ministry has been acting, I suspect they might thank me. Besides, the git is already in the hospital, isn't he?"

Just remembering the disturbance in the hall, Harry asked, "What happened?"

Still watching Ginny warily, Ron answered, "Some reporter was trying to levitate a miniature camera through the crack at the bottom of your door."

Harry supposed he should be shocked - he was under full protection after all. "What happened to the Security Wizard?"

Ginny crossed her arms over her chest. "The blighter must have slipped him something - he's snoring away and no one can wake him up."

"Anyway," Ron continued, "Ginny just hexed the guy and now he's on his knees, barfing up fur balls."

Harry smiled at his marvellous girlfriend. "Thanks."

Ginny blushed. "Anytime."

She started to move about the room, checking drawers to make sure he wasn't leaving anything behind. "We saw McGonagall on the way in. What was she here for?"

Harry grimaced. Apparently it was time to start spreading the news, and he was worried it might come as a disappointment. "She brought my Auror application."

Ron nodded. "Oh." In the end, Ron hadn't received all the marks he needed to proceed into the Auror Program, but he had always remained quietly gracious about Harry's continued efforts.

Harry dropped the bomb. "And I told her I was no longer interested."

Ginny stopped what she was doing, looking stunned. She took a few tentative steps towards him. "You're - you're not going to be an Auror?"

Harry shook his head. "No."

Ron appeared positively gobsmacked. "What are you going to do, then?"

Harry shrugged. "Don't know. McGonagall suggested I could be a professor if I wanted, in a few years."

Becoming a little uncomfortable with the way the two of them were still staring at him, mouths hanging open, Harry decided to change the subject. "Where's Hermione?"

Ron frowned. "She had to go to work."

"Work? Already?" Harry knew Hermione had been offered a job at the Ministry. She had practically floated out of her chair when she'd told him about it, but he was still surprised to hear she was starting so quickly.

Sounding a little awkward, Ron explained, "She told them she could start today, you know, back when we thought you were getting out of here yesterday."

Ginny appeared extremely earnest as she added, "She feels pretty rotten about not being here, actually, so don't give her a hard time to tease her. I'm not sure she'll get the joke."

Harry was disappointed, but at the same time he knew Hermione was nearly in a state of ecstasy over starting her career. "It's alright, I guess. I know how happy she is."

Ron snorted miserably. "Yeah, don't know why she was so excited about it, the way those bastards were approaching her right outside your door. You weren't even awake yet."

Harry knew why. Hermione had been offered any division she wanted, and she'd jumped at the opportunity to work in the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures Department. During one of her visits she had gone on and on about her hopes to make changes from within. But still, he was a little pleased at Ron's show of loyalty.

Harry took one last look around his room - he was so done with this place.

And apparently his feelings showed, as Ron produced Harry's invisibility cloak from inside the bag he was carrying and held it out to him. "Well, ready to go, then?"

Harry happily donned his disguise. "And waiting."

The Ministry had offered their services to protect Harry from prying eyes while he was at the Weasleys' home, and Harry, grudgingly, accepted. Any reporter, or anyone uninvited for that matter, caught within a kilometre of the Burrow, would be disciplined. There were also a few security measures in place, similar to what existed at Hogwarts - no one would be able to Apparate directly onto the property, and that sort of thing.

Harry understood the nature of the bargain - he would have to make himself available at certain events. He didn't know what those events were yet, and he felt a bit as though he were waiting for the other trainer to drop - but so long as the Ministry kept up their end, he didn't feel like thinking about it today.

Even so, Harry felt himself becoming a little distressed as Ron pulled the car up next to the old garage. Looking out the windshield at the crooked house, with its several chimneys and lopsided sign, Harry asked, "Is anyone going to be here?"

"Nah, just Mum," Ron answered, putting the car in park. "Everyone else is at work."

Ginny turned around in her seat to face him. "We told Mum you might want a bit of time to yourself, instead of walking into a mob."

Opening his door, Ron added, "But I should warn you now, she has a big dinner planned."

Harry swallowed. He supposed he could accept that, so long as he had a few hours to adjust to being back in the real world. He suddenly didn't think he could face a crowd, even a friendly crowd, just yet.

As he approached the gate and took in the familiar yard and the garden he was so fond of, Harry became a little overwhelmed. His chest was tight and the lump in his throat was almost excruciatingly painful. He didn't remember ever crying in his entire life - but he was as close as he had ever been in that moment.

He stopped walking in an attempt to regain his composure, and as he grasped the fence for balance, he understood what was happening to him. This place represented everything he had been fighting for, for the last several years. The chance to come out of the darkness of war plans in The Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, and back to the life he had only recently discovered. A simple home, filled to the brim with a loving family. A peaceful existence that was only ever interrupted by the everyday chaos of friendly pranks and Quidditch and garden gnomes.

And it wasn't just for him. The Burrow was the kind of world he had been trying to save for everyone.

Ginny, realizing he had stopped, turned back to him. "You alright?"

Harry shook his head to clear it. "Yeah."

She smiled and extended her hand. "Come on, then."

With only a foot inside the door, Harry found himself enveloped in a bone-crushing hug. He had expected that - Mrs. Weasley had made a similar scene the first time she had visited him at the hospital.

Now, moments before he was about to suffocate, the plump witch pushed him back and examined him. "Harry! Let me take a look at you." Apparently deciding he was still in fine condition, she attempted to brush his hair into place. Her eyes brimmed with tears, which Harry was extremely grateful to see she managed to hold back. But she soon gave up the facade of straightening his shirt, and hugged him again.

"Come on, Mum," Ron moaned. "Let him breathe. He didn't take down Voldemort only to have you hug him to death."

"Alright, alright," Mrs. Weasley clucked, mercifully releasing him. She wiped her hands on her apron and muttered, "Really, acting as though it's something to be embarrassed about, being happy to have the boy home."

She made her way over to the other side of the kitchen, looked up and said, "Now shoo. All of you, out."

Harry was relieved to see Mrs. Weasley back to herself, but was shocked all the same. They were being dismissed so soon? What about lunch?

As though reading his expressing, Mrs. Weasley tutted, "I know you only just arrived, Harry, but really, I need all of you out of the house. I have so much to do before tonight. Here, I've made a picnic for you to take down to the pond." She waved her wand and an enormous basket hurtled across the room, nearly knocking Harry over with its weight.

Actually, an afternoon by the pond sounded brilliant. There was just one thing.

Ron coughed. "Ah, you two go on without me. I need to see a guy, about, ah, about a thing."

If it had been Fred or George, Harry would have taken the phrasing to mean they were smuggling in some new, slightly illegal ingredient for their shop. As it was, Harry assumed Ron was merely awkwardly allowing him some time alone with Ginny.

Harry turned back to Ginny. "Shall we?"

The dangerous smile that lit her features made a direct hit and ricocheted through his entire body.

The walk across the paddock to the small pond on the other side was extraordinary. It was a lovely, warm, sunny afternoon. And all the familiar sights, smells and sounds filled his senses - bringing back memories of two wonderfully carefree summers, and confirming in his mind, again, that this was the life he wanted for his future.

They reached their destination and Ginny spread a blanket out under an old willow, fortunately not of the whomping variety, for the shade. It was a perfect secluded spot, where they could still watch the water lapping at the muddy edge of the pond in the breeze.

Harry slipped off his shoes and socks and wriggled his toes in the grass as Ginny unpacked their lunch. Mrs. Weasley had squeezed in sandwiches, cheese, pasta salad, fruit, cookies and pumpkin juice, and it made quite the display as Ginny brought out item after item.

As they ate, they talked about Ginny's upcoming year at school. She would play Quidditch - but she had no idea if she wanted to be Captain and she wasn't sure if she would have to switch back to Seeker again or not. Harry found it hard to believe - they had only just come home and she would be leaving him again in two short weeks.

Deciding he didn't really want to ponder that thought too heavily, Harry put his apple aside and lay down on his back, staring up into the tree's gnarled branches.

Ginny puttered about, tidying up, then lay down beside him. For a few minutes, they just enjoyed the silence.

Harry turned to his side and propped himself up on his elbow, gazing down at her sweet face.

Ginny cupped his cheek with her hand. "Hmmm, Professor Potter. I think you would make a wonderful teacher, Harry."

Harry frowned. "You do?"

She nodded, as though it made absolute sense. "You had a very comfortable classroom. I felt safe to try things - rather than worried about not doing something perfectly the first time. And you were always helpful and gently encouraging - never condescending. I never felt embarrassed about getting something wrong, I just wanted to learn."

Harry still wasn't entirely convinced. "It might have helped that I was really a student."

"I suppose," Ginny agreed. "We thought of you as one of us. But I'm sure you could manage the same atmosphere with anyone." There was a slight pause before she asked, "Do you want to be a teacher?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know, honestly. I've never considered it. But it's not like I have to decide now anyway." He fiddled absently with a lock of her hair. "If, in a few years, I decide I want to settle down and share my infinite wisdom with the next generation of wizards, I can give it go."

She smiled at him impishly. "And you know, I always loved the way you used to walk around and watch us."

That was a bit of a surprise. "You did?"

"Mmmhmm. Very authoritative and sexy."

"Oh, really." Harry attempted to waggle his eyebrows at her.

Ginny laughed at him hysterically. "Don't! Those things are massive. You could hurt someb..."

Harry stopped her with a kiss.

Though it started chaste, it soon turned to heat, as mouths quickly opened and tongues sought each other out. Her hands ran through his hair and clutched at his sides. It felt as though he had been dying to have her alone for ages and he was starving for her. And God, he wanted all of her.

Harry worked the buttons, down the front of her dress, and slipped his hand inside, over the soft skin of her stomach and up to the cotton barrier he had grown so fond of over the last year. Idly he wondered what colour it would be today, and found himself getting thirsty as an image of what would be happening in the next few minutes filled his head. Seeing himself sliding one strap down as his tongue slowly slid along the curve...

"Harry, wait." Harry was instantly dragged back to a harsh reality, where they weren't even kissing anymore, as Ginny tugged at his wrist.

"What's wrong?"

Ginny sat up abruptly and pulled her knees to her chest. "I just wanted to tell you, in case you were thinking... That - that I don't think we should go all the way today."

Worried by how uncertain she seemed, and wanting to put her at ease, Harry immediately responded, "I wasn't counting on anything." Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. "Alright, maybe I was hoping, a little." But Voldemort was gone. They were finally free. They were back at the Burrow for the first time in three years. And this was a bloody perfect day.

He tried for a joke. "Don't girls always want the first time to be special? This -" he gestured at their glorious surroundings. "You have to admit this is special."

Ginny smiled a little. "It is special." She appeared a little sad as her gaze moved over the pond. "It's just a little soon for me after... With everything that has happened, it would be too much right now."

While Harry could understand the courteous nature of what Ginny had done, by telling him right away, it was still weird for her to balk at such an early stage. He had seen her breasts before. Many times before. As often as he had been able to manage, actually. Besides, they had always asked each other before they tried something new, and had seemed to be somewhat naturally aware of the other person's comfort level and limits. "I would have asked first, you know."

Her eyes came back to him. "I know." She took his hand. "I just didn't want you to be disappointed later."

Suddenly Ginny's mood seemed to shift, and she was back to her mischievous self, as she moved up to her knees and announced, "We can still do other stuff though."

"Oh really," Harry grinned.

"Mmhmm." She pushed on his chest playfully and ordered, "Lie down."

Their sexual progress to date had been rather slow. For one thing, life at Hogwarts was sadly lacking in anything even distantly related to privacy. Sure, Harry spent many an hour thinking about the Room of Requirement in various fantasy scenarios, but so many people knew about it thanks to the D.A. that there was absolutely no guarantee someone wouldn't walk in on them. It was more as if they would be asking for it really. And Harry was positively horrified of being caught with his pants down. Or Ginny's skirt up, for that matter. The mere thought had the power to completely nullify the need for a cold shower. Or a long warm one.

Still they had put a shocking amount of effort into finding secluded spots where they could have a few reckless minutes alone. Again though, all clothing remained at least loosely in place. But they were getting really, really good at snogging. And Ginny, it seemed, always walked away from these encounters blissfully satisfied. Harry kind of loved that she had no problem unabashedly wrapping her legs around him to get what she wanted. And she always tried to return the favour. Sometimes it worked, but, well, the truth of the matter was, it was hard to have too much fun when he was trapped inside a pair of trousers. Not to mention the potential horrors of a zippered fly. Harry was starting to think perhaps women were exaggerating about their lot in life due to the whole pain of perpetuating the human species thing, because this was at least one instance when it must be way better to be a girl.

The serious experimenting had always taken place during breaks from school.

The weeks following Percy's death had been very quiet and strange. Ginny had mentioned him every once in a while, but she hadn't really wanted to talk about it much. Harry completely understood. He was simply grateful she hadn't decided to lock herself away the same way he had after losing Sirius. He still wasn't sure he would have known how to handle it.

It had been a rather frightening time for both of them. Ginny had lost her brother. Harry had felt his destiny rushing towards him. And they had both effectively lost the support system of her parents.

They had taken to finding forgotten rooms upstairs and silently comforting each other the one way they knew how.

These were memories that were never far from Harry's mind. Clumsy, awkward discoveries, that almost always made him feel a little sick with nervousness the first time. But their shyness always melted away, to be replaced with excited curiosity and later, blissful satisfaction.

Now, as she eagerly tugged his pants down his legs in the warm August afternoon, he was reminded of that raw enthusiasm.

A trail of deliberate wet kisses down his stomach told him of her intent, and left him shivering in anticipation. There was no way in hell that he would dream of stopping her, but as the breeze tickled his bare skin, he hoped that no one decided to take a swim. Then, with an endearingly chaste kiss, all concerns faded away.

She had tried this once before, last Christmas, and that had been amazing. But he could tell already that this time would be different.

Instantly, he knew that she had been utilizing the girls' dorm research exchange again. Harry could never make up his mind how he felt about that particular female institution. He hated the idea that she might talk about him, but at the same time, he had also experienced the benefits. He also tried to cling to the hope that Hermione didn't participate - but he knew that was in vain. Ginny and Hermione were close, had been for several years, there was no way he could kid himself that they weren't sharing knowledge. And considering that Harry, himself, still turned to Hermione whenever he had a problem with Ginny, the amount of information that she probably had on him was deeply embarrassing.

Slowly, as Ginny moved over him, he was filled with pleasure that he would never be able to describe.

Forget it, she could talk to whomever she wanted.

This was going to have to be the day that he swallowed his nerve and tried to return the favour. He was worried he might be absolute rubbish at it, but he was starting to understand that it didn't matter - they would figure it out together. And maybe he could actually be so bold as to simply ask her...

"Is that good?" Ginny's quiet voice, echoing his thoughts, startled him a little.

"God, yes," he breathed.

Then all he could do was feel.

A few hours later, Harry woke to a curious sound. Rain. They were still under the canopy of the tree, so they weren't getting wet just yet, but all the same, they should probably head back. Ginny was curled up at his side. He reached down and stroked her cheek. "Gin, it's raining."

She slowly blinked at him with a lazy smile. "Hmmmm." Then, taking note of their surroundings, she sat bold upright. "Harry, what time is it?"

"Don't know," he shrugged.

Ginny looked at her watch. "It's after four! We need to go."

Quickly gathering their things, they headed out into the storm.

They only made it a couple of meters before Ginny shouted, "Harry, wait!"

He turned to find Ginny grinning at him ridiculously, hair already plastered to her face. She ran the few steps forward, wrapped her arms up around his neck and pulled him down for a long kiss. "I just wanted you to know, that was amazing. Really. I had no idea anything could feel so, well, lovely."

Harry felt his chest puff with pride. "Well, it helped to have you moaning instructions at me the entire time."

Ginny's blush was nearly as fiery as her hair. She shoved him awkwardly, then broke into an run for the house.

Harry caught her around the waist just as they reached the gate. They were both soaked through and quite dishevelled. Together they tumbled through the kitchen door, a laughing, wet mess.

Right into a cheering crowd of Weasleys, members of the Order and their closest friends.

Harry found himself swept up into the swarm and passed around. He shook hands with Bill, Charlie, Mundungus Fletcher, Lupin, Moody, Tonks. Everyone was there and they were all thrilled to see him. He was becoming quite dizzy as face after face swam before him, offering congratulations, hugs and pats on the back.

Finally he reached the other end of the room, by the fireplace, and was deposited in front of Hermione. She was biting her lip. "I am so sorry I couldn't be there to pick you up today," she immediately apologized.

"It's alright," Harry assured her. He was simply grateful to have been released from the throng, into the comfortable presence of one of his oldest friends. He might have forgiven her anything. "Where's Ron?"

Hermione glanced around the room, seeming a little worried. "I don't know. He said he had to see someone, but he should be back by now."

As soon as she had uttered the words, the fire roared and Ron came shooting out, covered in soot. He dusted himself off a bit and then glanced up. He was quite pale and looked a little stunned, and it seemed he didn't even notice the large group before him. Which was just as well: the party was in full swing and it didn't appear that anyone other than Harry and Hermione had noticed Ron either.

Hermione instantly reacted in alarm, rushing towards him. "Ron, what is it? What's wrong?"

"N - nothing," he stuttered. "Nothing's wrong. I, ah, I got a job."

"Ron?"

Still in a daze, he continued, "It's an Assistant Coaching position with the Cannons. They sent me an Owl last week. Said they'd seen a few games at Hogwarts and wanted to talk to me. I didn't say anything because, well, you know, I didn't want to jinx it."

Hermione squealed and threw her arms around him and Ron came back to himself a bit. He looked at Harry over her shoulder and said, "Don't worry, mate. I won't tell Mum till after. I won't spoil your big night."

And with those words, as the his party continued to roar in his ears, and Harry watched his two grown-up, fully employed best friends celebrate their own success, a completely unexpected dark thought entered his brain: here he was, Harry Potter, saviour of the Wizarding World for the second time, his whole long life stretching out before him, and he had absolutely no idea what to do with himself.

This was just bloody perfect.