Chapter One

A/N: This is a new fic, inspired by one of my favourite songs, Run To You by Bryan Adams. I'm amazed that I was hit by inspiration for a Drarry fic rather than a WolfStar (SBRL) one. There's mild het and less mild slash (not in this chapter); there may even be lemon later. If you like your ships faithful, hit Back now.

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"Harry, is that you?" Ginny called, emerging from the kitchen. "You're late home."

"I know," Harry said apologetically, going over and kissing her on the cheek. "Work was hectic."

"It always is," she smiled, hugging him briefly and then frowning. "You smell really good; where have you been?"

"Oh, one of the stupid Ministry owls decided to relieve itself on my head, so I had to cast a cleaning charm before I came home."

Ginny laughed. "Come on, dinner's pretty much ready; let's eat and you can tell me more about your day."

It was a year since Harry and Ginny had left Hogwarts, and eighteen months since the end of the war. When Harry was in seventh year, he, Ron, and Hermione had, as they had promised, gone off to find Horcruxes, returning only for a couple of weeks at Headmistress McGonagall's request to teach the younger students some defence. The following winter, that of Ginny's seventh year, had seen the Final Battle, finishing off plenty of the Light Side as well as Voldemort and countless Death Eaters. Ginny had lost her brother Percy, and the last two of the Marauders had bitten the dust too, one for each side. After the battle, Harry and Ginny had returned to school to take their NEWTs, graduating together in the summer and leaving at the same time.

Much to everyone's surprise, Harry had not become an Auror after the war was over. He was working for the Ministry, but in the Department for Improper Use of Magic. Ron had followed the Auror path, though, and Hermione and Ginny were now both Healers at St Mungo's. Ginny's working hours still occasionally put strain on her relationship with Harry, but his own hours could be demanding – like tonight, or so she thought.

They entered the living room shortly after, each carrying a plate of steaming Chinese food. Ginny had turned out to be something of a domestic goddess, even without the aid of magic. All things considered, she had turned out to be full of surprises after the war.

"So what was going down at the Ministry today?" Ginny asked, twirling noodles around her fork as she sat on the floor, her back leaning against Harry's legs where he sat on the sofa.

"Oh, some kid casting a spell somewhere; we had to go and tell him off," Harry said guiltily, eating a beansprout before going on. "It wasn't anything harmful, so we let him off, but then when we flooed back I had to get onto McGonagall at Hogwarts and find out what the kid was doing home during term-time in the first place."

"And?"

Harry sighed. "It turns out his grandfather died, so his parents took him out of school for a few days. He was really messed up, and that was why he was using magic."

"That's sad," Ginny said meditatively. "Was he okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. People get over this stuff, especially at his age; he was only thirteen."

"Not a terminal delinquent, then."

"Nope." Harry leaned back against the sofa cushions, relieved that his story was working. He had been called out to see this kid today, but it wasn't why he was late, and the part about an owl using his head as a toilet was an outright lie. He hated lying to Ginny, but he had done something really stupid, and what was worse, he kept doing the stupid thing, over and over again.

Why hadn't he told her? Simple. He was terrified of hurting her. When they had got together again, after the war, she was fragile, and he wasn't sure if she'd got over it yet. Seeing Percy die had made her into a crying wreck for days, and he had a sneaking suspicion that her perfect-wife-type status was a by-product of the trauma. Because far from being the flirt she used to be, she had somehow metamorphosed into a quiet, domestically-minded girl. Once, Harry had had his suspicions about exactly what she was getting up to with all the boys she had dated, but now he had no doubts: nothing had ever happened. She was now an advocate of abstinence until marriage.

He could blame his stupid mistake on that, but the honest truth was it wasn't the reason. He wasn't that impatient.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?" He realised suddenly that she had been saying something.

"Mione told me today that she and Ron had another fight last night; do you think they're okay?"

"Yeah, sure of it," he replied reassuringly. "They have these little tiffs, but they never mean any of it. They love each other really."

Ginny looked up at him, smiling. "I'd still rather have a relationship without all the little arguments, though; I'm so glad we don't fight."

Her words twisted the knife of guilt further into Harry's chest, but she didn't notice his expression, as that was the moment she stood up and carried her plate into the kitchen. Slowly, he pushed himself off of the sofa and followed her. "So how was your day?"

"Can't complain," Ginny said, rinsing her plate in the sink. "Someone with a vomiting hex got brought in, and I had to look after her, which wasn't pleasant…" She turned to grin at him and added: "It hasn't been a great day for either of us as far as that kind of thing's concerned, has it?"

Harry forced a smile in response. "No, I guess not." Putting his plate down on the draining board, he stepped forward and put his arms around Ginny from behind. "What time's your shift tomorrow?"

She carried on washing plates, but he could tell from her voice that she was smiling in appreciation of the display of affection. "I'm in at twelve, but I don't get off till nine, and I promised Mione we'd go and get dinner, if that's okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

"Actually, my apparating goes really wonky when I'm tired, so would you mind if I stayed with her and went to work from there on Thursday?"

"No, I wouldn't mind. I guess I'll just have to go a night without your cooking, but you know, I'll live."

She twisted round to kiss him lightly, smiling. "Thanks, Harry. I think Mione just needs a bit of a break right now."

"She's a devil for overworking herself," he nodded. "Just you make sure it isn't infectious, alright?"

"I will," Ginny promised. "Now I'll wash, you dry." She handed him a tea towel, joking: "Don't you go doing anything irresponsible while I'm not here!"

That probably included what he had planned.

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A/N: Chapter 2 is ready, but I'm not putting it up just yet. Please review, folks.