Chapter 12: Undertow
Harry wasn't sure what woke him, but he realized two things as soon as consciousness stole over him - it was earlier than he would have liked and Ginny wasn't next to him in the bed. But he could smell something baking with the undercurrent of coffee in the air as he sat up. Harry quickly threw some clean clothes on, his stomach already rumbling. Surprisingly, despite the stress of yesterday, Harry was starving.
He expected Brogan had arisen with the sun if Harry knew him at all. The other man had probably tossed and turned all night. It had taken Harry a fair bit of time to fall asleep himself, his mind going a million different places at once. At one point, he had almost got up and gone downstairs to see if Brogan needed to talk, but in the end that was when sleep had finally pulled him under.
He smirked as he entered the kitchen. Ginny was there, a few pots on the hob in front of her and a bit of a flour-y mess on the counter. Her hair was in a half-hazard type of bun (half-hazard, no doubt, because it was still just too short to really gather together) on top of her head and she glanced up as he entered.
"Morning," Harry said. "Brogan not up yet?"
"No," Ginny said frowning. "Although it's not from lack of me dropping things out here. He must have crashed like the dead in there. Haven't heard a peep and not even me making coffee has lured him out."
"Well, if he slept as bad as I think he did, he's probably still knackered," Harry said, heading for the coffee himself.
After taking a sip and adding more sugar to his cup he watched Ginny for a moment. She seemed a bit…manic.
"How many cups of tea have you had this morning and what exactly are you doing?" Harry finally asked.
"Well, I thought I would make the Barmbrack for him but I forgot you have to soak the currants and the sultanas overnight. So then I tried to speed up the process with my wand and ugh, the first loaf was not good. So then I thought I would make some porridge, and try again and this is where I'm at," Ginny gestured at the rest of the kitchen as though that explained it. Harry hid his smirk and nodded at the other two pans.
"And those are?"
"Eggs and some beans. Make the toast, would you, Harry? And then go and see if you can wake him up. I'm getting worried about him. He's probably sulking, not that I blame him." She said the last part under her breath, but Harry heard her and frowned. He knew she was probably still beating herself up for the emotional upheaval of the day before and he wished that she wouldn't. He had told her not to. But Harry knew Ginny, and he knew she would feel bad until things felt right between the three of them once more.
He did the toast quickly and efficiently- he was Ron's former kitchen assistant, after all. Not to mention all the years of being the Dursley's lackey. He left Ginny still muttering to herself as she aimed her wand at whatever she was making in the bowl and headed towards Brogan's bedroom. He knocked gently and when there was still no answer, knocked a bit louder.
Harry concentrated to remove any charms Brogan might have placed on the door and waved his hand over it. Shrugging, he went to open it, thinking he'd knocked three times – that was fair enough warning.
Except Brogan's bedroom was empty and the bed hadn't been slept in. Or, he'd made it before leaving. Harry frowned as he backed out of the room feeling peculiar.
"Gin?" Harry asked as he returned to the kitchen.
"Hmm? Is he grumpy? You should have taken a cup of coffee with you."
"He's not there. Are you sure you didn't hear him?"
Ginny stopped what she was stirring and looked at him, brows furrowed. "What do you mean he's not there?"
"His room, it's empty," Harry said patiently. His eyes flicked over the kitchen and he got a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He turned and went back to the living area and looked at the table in front of the settee. He then saw what he'd known he would – a letter propped up against the tea things from yesterday, addressed to him and Ginny. Harry suddenly knew without even reading it that Brogan was gone.
o-o-o-o-o
Harry & Ginny –
I cannot do this. I cannot wait until my memories come back. And I cannot be what you want me to be. At least, not at this point in our acquaintance. Because that is what this is for me – an acquaintance. I know, (Merlin, I know), the two of you want it to be something else. It's in every look you send my way – every touch you keep yourselves from offering. I feel it all. And it is doing something to me I don't like - to know I can never be the person you want me to be again.
Right now, what I need is some time. To figure out my head and my heart. And I know you will both be hurt by this and I do not wish to cause more strife between you or to you, but I hope you can understand why I need to be away from you. What happened in the training room was, yet again, no one's fault. But it did illustrate to me how dangerous and precarious this situation is between us.
I am grateful to you for caring about me. I am grateful you risked your well-being for mine and brought me back. I am even grateful to you for loving me – and even though I cannot offer it back to you right now, know that I deeply appreciate it.
Give me a few weeks and then I will be in contact again, to see where we stand. But please, please take this as a sign to start living your lives again. Do not concern yourself with me. And I know you are probably both resisting the idea, even as you read these words, but trust me when I say that I am not worth the energy. Let me be. For now. Before one of us or even all of us does something to hurt the other.
-Brogan
Ginny sighed as she read the letter again, her soul feeling heavy. Harry was staring out the window in the kitchen. Neither of them had said much.
The Tempus spell she'd set for her bread went off and Ginny reluctantly got up to get the now pointless Barmbrack out of the oven. She couldn't believe it had come to this. To work so hard for so many months to not only figure out if they could bring him back but then to actually manage it and then have him leave them… it was absolutely crushing. And Ginny's heart felt sick.
She tried to take comfort in the fact that Brogan said he would contact them in a few weeks. That had to be a good thing, surely?
In a way, a small part of Ginny couldn't blame him for running away. She and Harry had kept saying let's give him time, but they hadn't done that, had they? It seemed their best intentions went out the window whenever Brogan was around them or showed even a tiny bit of remembering his previous existence. She'd been so positive he'd remembered her while they'd connected empathetically. But, perhaps, that is what had scared him.
The truth was, neither she nor Harry could say with any real conviction that they knew how Brogan really felt. Not really. Throughout their relationship, it had always been Brogan's interest in them that was the backdrop for their future situation. Brogan was the last descendant of Aine and had wanted to meet the Heir – he'd lived with that his whole life. He'd dreamt of meeting Ginny, and had instantly liked her, even. Now he'd come back to not only find out that his prophecy had come true but also that he'd become involved with the Heir, albeit in a roundabout way. And then there was Harry. Again, it had been Brogan himself to realize that he fancied another man before Harry had, although the concept seemed completely alien to him now.
Ginny wondered if it was because a part of Brogan could still sense, underneath it all, that his attraction to Harry was still there and that was the part that scared him or confused him the most. He'd claimed the opposite, but…she just didn't understand how one went from loving someone one moment to being completely freaked out about them the next. She'd watched Brogan watch Harry, had seen them interact almost naturally together, just as before, and then Brogan would freeze, clam up or withdraw if Harry got too close. Harry hadn't talked about it with her either, but she knew he'd sensed it and it had hurt him on some level.
But what could they do? Brogan didn't remember them. It was just that simple. And now, now they had chased him away. So not only did he not remember them, but apparently, he didn't like them very much either.
It felt like a lead weight was in the middle of her chest.
Harry joined her at the table after she'd sliced off the end piece of the bread and they shared it in silence. When their eyes finally met, Harry gave her a tired smile.
"Let's go home, Gin."
"I doubt he'll still be at the Abbey-"
"No. I mean, let's really go home. Back to London. Back to our lives. We're…we're done with…Ireland."
Ginny bit her lip and reached out to take Harry's hand. "Where should we stay? I don't think I could handle a smug Solace right now. And while my parents would love us to be at home, I don't think our sex life would enjoy it much."
Harry gave a small smile at her joke and squeezed her hand. "Grimmauld Place, I reckon. I'll write Remus right away and ask if there's a room left for us. If not, we'll…we'll hole up in a hotel somewhere until we can figure it out. Maybe even rent a place in Hogsmeade while I work on the house. It shouldn't take too long, once we get started."
Ginny nodded. She rested her hand on Harry's arm. "Are you sure?"
"About how long it will take? Well, Andrew, one of the builders, said-"
"No. I mean, that we're done with…Ireland?"
Harry pursed his lips and suddenly looked so much older to Ginny, as though he too felt the weight of everything in his heart.
"We are. And Ireland is apparently done with us. After everything we've done for it."
"He just needs time, Harry."
A strange wind blew through the kitchen and the glass bowl she'd used to mix the Barmbrack in suddenly exploded on the counter. Harry's eyes were stormy, like the sea-green foam racing atop the waves of a turbulent squall. His other hand had closed into a tight fist.
"He was right. We need to start living our lives. That's all he's ever wanted for us, right?" Harry's voice was bitter and almost unrecognizable to her. She nodded, but kept her hand on his arm, squeezing it in comfort.
And almost as soon as it had come, his anger evaporated and he slumped into his chair, head hanging low. Ginny moved immediately into his lap and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. They stayed that way for a long time. She continued to hold him and willed her love for him to do its magic and ease and soothe his heartache. Ginny didn't know if he even cried because he was silent and static in her arms. But she vowed then that she would eventually mend Harry's broken heart any way she could. With or without Brogan.
o-o-o-o-o
It didn't take long for Brogan to pack up the rest of his belongings. He didn't have that much, after all. He'd spotted Ginny using his music player once or twice, and while he was itching to use it himself, in the end, he left it for her to keep. Perhaps as a way of illustrating that he did indeed want to come back and talk with them again, someday. Someday when his heart was lighter and his head was less confused.
Brogan wasn't exactly sure when that would be. Probably around 80 or so years, that sounded right. He reckoned he may as well get working on another player to charm. At least, it would give him a project to work on.
He'd managed to get out of Mr Cosgrove's office without seeing his former mentor, but not without seeing Harry and Ginny's cat. Roisin had meowed and walked in between his legs until he'd sat down on the ground and played with her, as well as give her plenty of chin and back rubs. Only after the kitten was satisfied with both did she let him leave. He was surprised that she'd wandered back into Dylan's private rooms instead of expecting Brogan to take her back to the Nuala wing. Brogan reckoned the cat instinctually understood she didn't belong to him.
With his heart heavy and his mind busy, he realized he was going to have to head into town for a few things before he truly left. He also wanted to swing by the library and at least say goodbye to Garrett. His old friend deserved that and he hoped it wasn't still too early to bother him just to bid him farewell.
The library doors were locked when he tried them and Brogan sighed, turning towards Garrett's rooms instead. He saw a few of the younger students heading towards the kitchens, so perhaps it wasn't too early and Garrett would be up. Before he could even knock on the door, it opened and Garrett was blinking at him in that nebbish, owlish way he had.
"Brogan," Garrett said, nodding. "Come on in, I just put the kettle on."
Brogan shook his head, hiding his smile. He placed his knapsack on the floor by the door and followed the other man back.
Because Garrett was now the full-time librarian he had been given extra space – which included a sitting area, a kitchenette, and a spare bedroom. Garrett had made the whole thing most agreeable – there were loads of books, of course, as well as comfy sofas and chairs a person could probably spend all day reading in. He'd even arranged for the lighting to take on that nice, soft glow of the library and there was always the scent of something smoky and fragrant in the air. It was a book lover's paradise.
"Reckon you want coffee?" Garrett nodded at the cabinet next to the small oven. "The French press is in there as well as some grounds. Nothing fancy though, as you're the only one who drinks it."
"It's fine, Garrett," Brogan said, pulling out the coffee things. It was a local bag of beans from town and was perfectly acceptable. He had no idea why Garrett always expected him to be displeased at his coffee, as though Brogan was a bean snob. He wasn't. At least, he didn't think he was. Going through the motions of making the coffee as Garrett made his tea and toast reminded Brogan of something – something he'd done recently, but he couldn't place the feeling with a memory and shrugged to himself. He'd just had a brief image of himself in a make-shift kitchen making a cup of coffee that had him very excited for some reason.
Once they were settled with practically a whole loaf toasted between them as well as some eggs Garrett had whipped up, Brogan buttered a slice of bread and put a fair amount of the Abbey's spectacular marmalade on it, his mouth already watering. Garrett fixed him with a steady look.
"You don't know when you'll be back, do you?"
Brogan sighed inwardly but munched on his toast first, before answering.
"No, I reckon I don't."
Garrett nodded and went back to eating. Brogan shook his head – he had to admit that this was one of the things he enjoyed about being friends with the other man. Garrett was one of the few individuals in Brogan's life who usually had a lack of emotions and most always accepted things at face value. And he knew that Garrett would never argue with him or try to get him to stay – not because the other man didn't care, but because he could already tell Brogan's mind was made up and he respected Brogan's decision.
They talked about school things for a bit and where Brogan might go on his 'holiday'.
"They'll miss you," Garrett eventually said, drinking his tea. Their dirty plates were stacked off to the side and Brogan realized he'd eaten more than he'd meant. Having stressful emotions did wonders for his appetite.
"I know, but, perhaps it's best they get through it, and then they can…." Brogan stopped and continued the rest in his head. Then they can forget me. Was that really what he wanted?
"They'll miss you," Garrett said again. "But then, I reckon they already are, aren't they? Missing you. So maybe they won't notice."
Brogan frowned, not sure what the other man meant. Harry and Ginny were probably not even awake yet. And then he realized what his friend was on about.
"Oh, you mean…yeah, I'm afraid I'm a bit of disappointment to them these days. Not that I know any different. So it's hard to let it get to me. Hah."
Garrett gave him an owlish look, a slight frown on his face as though disappointed in him. Brogan felt himself squirm and stared into his empty coffee cup instead.
"Don't stay away too long, Brogan. It's…it's not good, you being out there without your…center."
Brogan glanced up finally, but Garrett was staring off into space in that way he had. Most people found it unnerving, but Brogan had always thought it was rather endearing. As though Garrett could hear the things that most people didn't say.
"My center?"
Garrett's eyes focused on his again. "Yeah. You're fine this way, but before…before, with Harry and Ginny you were…centered. You were happy. It's not good to be gone so long that you forget even more."
The other man stood abruptly and used his wand to float the dishes to the sink. Brogan felt confused, not sure what the other man was telling him exactly. How could he forget even more of what he didn't know? The two men didn't say anything and the silence grew awkward. Or so Brogan thought.
"I'll try to write when I get settled somewhere," Brogan said as he eventually stood, feeling out of sorts. Garrett rested against his counter, arms folded.
"Just think about what I said," Garrett said seriously, and Brogan nodded, although he felt as though he honestly didn't understand all that much. Usually, his visits with Garrett helped him calm himself, but this visit had done the opposite. Just one more sign he was not fit for human interaction.
"And I just think…your center, your happiness, will protect you when the time comes."
"Right," Brogan said nodding. "I'm sure it will."
Garrett nodded at him as though it was settled and walked him to the door. Brogan picked up his knapsack again and turned back as he walked out the door.
"Erm, if you see Harry or Ginny, just…"
"I'll tell them not to bother looking for you if you want," Garrett said, nodding. "Although, I am not sure I will have to."
"Er, well, I was going to say tell them I won't be gone too long. I just…I need space," Brogan said, feeling perturbed by Garrett's comment.
"You know what they say, Brogan," Garrett said, his expression looking faraway again. "Be careful what you wish for."
Garrett reached out and squeezed his shoulder and then closed the door, leaving Brogan feeling even more out of sorts than before. He realized he wanted to speak to Dylan and wandered back up the main hallway, his head and his heart both feeling heavy.
o-o-o-o-o
Sean had a quick shower and cup of coffee in the flat he had above the bookshop. They'd been waiting for word that Potter, et al, had returned from their holiday and so far the trio had not been seen. They had a rough plan of what to do when the trio returned. But Sean just had a feeling…it wasn't premonition exactly and it wasn't "the sight", but he always trusted it. He had a feeling something was going to happen today and he wanted to be prepared.
He knew Michael wouldn't be by to open the shop for another hour or so, so Sean did a few business tasks that needed to be done. The shop practically ran itself, thankfully, but then again it had been in his "family" for the past century.
Feeling restless and deciding to see where the feeling took him, Sean slipped out the back door of the shop and decided to take a small walk around Maeve's Hollow. Dawn was just now breaking and he doubted too many people would be up and about, so perhaps he could enjoy some uninterrupted thinking time.
Their continued research had netted little result, and Sean suspected that in end, it didn't matter why the bracelet had attached itself so severely to Caley – all that mattered was how they were going to bring it back and make it of this world again. He had the sinking sensation that even if Caley met with an unfortunate accident, the bracelet would still be out of his grasp. No, he needed to figure out how it had become a part of the other man and how to make it corporeal again. Which meant he needed to take a peek into the Empath's memories.
His mind wandered as he made his way towards the edge of town, the damp air making him turn his collar up in case anyone saw him and wondered why he wasn't chilly. As a being such as he was, Sean had very little use for heat or cold – he always felt the same temperature. The same held for food, for the most part as well. He could go days without eating, but he didn't like to do it. It usually drained him and he did rather enjoy eating, so he made sure to go through the motions as often as he could. It was all about keeping up appearances and making sure no one noticed his…peculiarities.
His mind turned to another time in his life – a time when he did not need to hide his powers nor his immortal leanings. It had been so long now – so very very long ago, but Sean remembered it all as though it had just happened.
The forge was smoky and dark. There were only two sources of light – the bright flame (which was even now, dying into embers) of the kiln and a solitary lantern, which had seen better and cleaner days.
Taranis entered into the area as though he owned it because as Creidhne's father, he did. He frowned as he scanned the area for his son, not finding him.
Drat, the blasted boy has left already. He knows that I shall have them!
But no, perhaps not. Taranis paused, noticing the sawdust and dirt falling through the cracks in the ceiling. He knew then where his son was. He nodded to the guard he had brought with him and pointed upwards. The man nodded and then headed up the back stairs. Taranis paused as the sounds of a scuffle reached his ears. He grinned to himself and waited. A moment later, the guard was shoving Creidhne down the stairs and he landed with a painful yelp at Taranis's feet.
"Going somewhere, my son?"
"Father, I was coming to visit you, I just… stopped to bath and change so that I may look presentable when I offer you the Armilla-"
"You were taking them to her."
Creidhne frowned and emphatically shook his head. "No, father! She…she has thrown me aside, as well you know."
"Lies. But it is no matter. I am here now. Give them to me, Creidhne."
His son bowed his head, slumping in failure. With a defeated sort of movement, he reached into the inner lining of his outer garments and removed a small ornate and silver box from its depths, and held it out to him. Ah, yes, the boy had indeed planned on giving them as a gift to Boann. Idiot child. Taranis had four sons and all of them had their strengths and specialties, but they also all had their flaws. Creidhne's belief in love was his.
Taranis could hardly contain his excitement. This was everything he had been working towards – everything that would help him harness his power in a way he never had before. Esus and Toutatis were already on their way to finalize the joining and perform the ritual they had discovered. It would be glorious. If it worked. And Taranis had it in his mind that it would most definitely work. He would change. They would all change.
As Taranis opened the lid of the box, he smiled as the silver of the freshly made metal shone brightly even in the dim light. He picked up the first bracelet, its eyes the color of an approaching storm and he laughed as he slipped it over his wrist. It was obviously meant for him. The bracelet was just a bracelet at this point, well, almost just a bracelet. He had made sure Creidhne had imbued them with the basics of magic and power. But he could already tell the promise of what he could accomplish with the Armilla once they were activated. He would rule — they would rule— and it would be magnificent
Sean blinked into the bright morning sun as the images from the past faded. He realized he had walked further than intended and had almost made it to the blue box. He was about to turn back around without engaging in the town's long-standing tradition of touching it for luck when someone Apparated a few feet away with him. Out of a long-ago sense of survival, Sean went invisible, not wanting to engage with anyone. He felt his heart leap into his throat with the excitement of old as he recognized who it was. Standing just a short distance away from him was Brogan Caley. And Sean knew that the spirit of Lugh himself must be smiling down on him - Caley was alone.
o-o-o-o-o
Harry and Ginny arrived with little to no fanfare at the Abbey, and although Mr Cosgrove was just settling at his desk for the day he still seemed unsurprised to see them return early. Ginny wondered if he'd already spoken to Brogan and realized he must have since he didn't ask after him. The man had a sense of somber melancholy to him, as a matter of fact. Roisin, who mewed softly when they went to her, curled herself around Mr Cosgrove's arm, clearly not wanting to return to their rooms just yet. They decided to let her sleep and the older man promised to bring her by later in the day.
Harry didn't say much as they dropped off their bags and she knew he'd noticed the vacant air their rooms suddenly had. Or, perhaps that was just Ginny being overly sensitive. It was clear Brogan had left and even a tertiary glance around their shared space showed he had removed himself from their lives. It made her heart still ache. How could three people who had loved each other as well as they all had, come to this? She pushed the feeling that it was her fault for forgetting the potion to begin with that had brought them to this point out of her mind. She'd deal with her guilt later. Perhaps years from now, even. Yes, that sounded right.
As Harry went into the loo, she sighed and sat down on the bed. Waking up so early to bake had not been very clever, she had to admit. Especially since the person she'd got up for had decided to scarper. Add on top of that, her tossing and turning in bed through the night and she was feeling fairly knackered. She thought Harry must have slept better than she had as he seemed fine. Glancing over at the clock, she noticed Brogan's music player and realized that he must have left it behind. She'd last seen it in the sitting area and didn't remember moving it before they'd left. Unless Harry had moved it. She waited until he came out of the loo and he sat down on his side of the bed.
"Harry, did you put the music player here?"
He glanced over her shoulder and shook his head. "No, why?"
"Hmm. No reason. Except…I think he left it behind for me."
Ginny wasn't sure why such a small thing could cause her heart to react with hope, but it did. And this was after all of her dark thoughts. Harry touched her shoulder and she turned to face him, finding him surprisingly optimistic.
"Maybe he did. I know he saw you using it. Maybe…"
"Maybe he's trying to show us he'll return?" Ginny asked, moving closer to Harry. He put his arms around her and nodded thoughtfully.
"I know we said we're done with Ireland, but let's amend that to…we're just done for now."
Ginny smiled gently. "I already knew that was what you meant."
Harry kissed the side of her head. "We should pack up and leave before the weekend is over, I reckon."
Ginny made a non-committal noise and sighed. "At least my parents will be happy. Here we are, getting on with our lives."
"I reckon I should send all the letters I talked about sending this morning," Harry mused, absentmindedly rubbing her shoulders. "What do you reckon? If there's no room at Grimmauld Place, then perhaps the Three Broomsticks? They have rooms to rent, right?"
"We could always stay in London. Diagon Alley has a few places you can stay at, or maybe find a flat like Ron and Hermione? I think she mentioned there were still a few available in their building, even."
"I'd like to be close for the builders. I think it'll go smoother."
Ginny smirked at him. "You mean so you can easily join in and learn more about how they build."
Harry blushed. "Yeah. Guilty. You wouldn't mind living in Scotland?"
Ginny snorted. "Where exactly did I go to school again?"
Harry grinned but then shrugged. "Yeah, but that was because you had to. We'll be a bit further away from everyone, you know."
Ginny kissed him. "We're wizards, Harry. Everyone is always just a floo away. Besides, I agreed we should build our house near Hogsmeade, didn't I? I believe as you do, that it is a good place to start our lives. We're near other magical folks, but not too close. We're near things we grew up with and already know, and we're far enough away from the Ministry and all the other…things. Like the Daily Prophet being in our business. And, once school starts up again, we'll have free access to Quidditch games for the whole season!"
Harry chuckled. "I can see you've really thought about this then."
Ginny nodded and smiled. "I have. So…why don't we skip staying at Grimmauld Place, and just go right on to finding a cottage to rent and be done with it. You know that's the option you want. And while it pains me to throw money away at a rental while we build our house, I reckon if that is what you want then who am I to argue you out of it? Besides, don't you have loads of gold, Mr Money-Bags Potter? Isn't that why I'm with you, after all? You know what they say about us Weasleys."
Harry raised an eyebrow at her and she couldn't keep a straight face, breaking into giggles. He rolled his eyes.
"I actually don't know what they say about you Weasleys. What was it again?"
"We're gold-diggers, the whole lot of us. This, despite the fact that we hardly ever actually have any extra laying around. But that's why we befriended you, you know. It was a plot since before you were born."
Harry snorted. "Oh? And how exactly did that work then?"
Ginny vaguely shrugged. "Magic."
"Oh, I see. Brilliant. Well, let's compromise. If the rent is too high, we'll not do it and find another place to stay until the house is built. Sound good?"
"Yeah."
"I love you, Gin."
"I know. I'm pretty damn lovable, after all."
Harry laughed and she was happy to hear it. Perhaps this getting on with their lives was exactly what they needed right now. And while she missed him, she thought that perhaps Brogan could experience some relief and joy himself, now that he didn't have them over-crowding him. It still made her sad, though, to think of him alone in the world, but neither she nor Harry could force him to stay, could they?
"How tired are you?" Harry murmured, moving his mouth down the side of her neck. Ginny grinned as he reached a particularly sensitive spot and wrapped her arms around him.
"I didn't think you'd want to after…well, everything this morning," she said after a moment.
Harry raised his head to look at her, his green eyes growing darker. "You know I always want you.''
Ginny shivered in response, despite not being cold and they kissed until they were both lying back. Harry's warm breath tickled her neck as he moved his mouth there again and she let her hands get lost in the soft down of the hair at the back of his neck. Ginny stretched and arched under him as he started removing her clothes.
They were not in a hurry, and it seemed to Ginny that Harry took more time than usual to appreciate her – her body was practically singing by the time he finally started moving his head downwards, leaving a searing trail of kisses directly to her sex. She giggled as he buried his face in between her legs, taking in a deep breath of her scent. He waggled his eyebrows playfully at her and then grew serious as he stroked her with his fingers, just gentle pressure against her. Ginny widened her legs and nodded at him as she propped herself on the back of her hands so she could watch him.
Harry truly made love to her with just his mouth and as his eyes flicked upwards to meet hers, Ginny shuddered at the desire she saw there. He moaned against her sex, the tiny sensations breaking through her wetness and she bit her lip to keep from replying with a moan of her own. He reached a hand upwards and cupped her breast, bringing his thumb around to tease her nipple. She let her head fall back and gave herself over to the notes of pleasure he was creating within her.
All the frustrations and anxieties melted away until Ginny felt until she was nothing but eagerness and need. Tumbling towards her release, she was completely free from everything except her pleasure and Harry. As her body reached its peak and reacted to his mouth, she reached for him and pulled her to him.
"Hey, I wasn't done down there," he said now, eyes laughing at her.
"Don't care. Want you inside me," Ginny murmured as she pressed herself against him. She lowered her hand and found him semi-hard and stroked him easily, all the while they gazed at each other. "I love you so much."
"Always," Harry said as he leaned down, capturing her mouth with his. They joined effortlessly and Ginny moaned as he filled her, sliding into her exactly how she wanted. She pulled her legs back so he could have more room and Harry obliged her by setting a quick pace. Ginny watched him move, marveling at him. Her heart felt so full of love – no matter what happened they always had each other – they always had this. Harry slowed and pushed all the way in, resting for a moment. He gazed down at her as she tightened around him. He brought one of his hands to her face, touching it reverently.
When he started to move again it was slow, and Ginny writhed in response underneath him. But Harry would not move any faster and she stuck her tongue out at him, which made his body shake with laughter. He shifted his hips and she gasped as their bodies met again and again. Back and forth they moved, and once Ginny was panting and begging for him to go deeper, harder, faster – only then did Harry start moving again and she gave herself over to it and him. They came almost at the same time, their cries of release mingling together, and Ginny half-collapsed underneath him and took his weight joyously, tightly holding on to him.
Harry sighed and eventually rolled onto his side. He reached out and touched her face again as they lay together. Ginny nipped at his thumb, sucking on it gently.
"Maybe we can pack up later," he mumbled, yawning. Ginny agreed, feeling quite done in. She made Harry turn over so that she could spoon him this time and he chuckled. She buried her head at the back of his neck and hair, taking a deep breath. After-sex Harry smelled the best – Brogan had pointed that out to her. She suddenly felt a touch of her sadness again but pushed it down as soon as it appeared. She wanted nice dreams for a change – free from any worries and disappointments and drowsily waited for sleep to claim her, her mind blissfully empty.
o-o-o-o-o
Brogan headed into Maeve's Hollow for a few travel supplies. It had been a while since he'd visited, or, at least it felt like it to him. He touched the blue police box as was customary and paused when the back of his neck tingled. He glanced around and didn't see anyone, but still, the feeling persisted. Frowning to himself, he walked on, but he kept his eyes and ears open. He made sure his wand was easily within reach by sticking it up his sleeve and switching his knapsack to his other shoulder.
The closer he got to town though, the more the feeling seemed to fade. Shrugging to himself, he made his way to the bookshop first – not the Broken Quill – unlike Garett, he had no love for that particular place. Besides one or two books to read, he bought quills and parchment and a few notebooks, remembering the idea Sid had suggested about trying to keep a journal of when memories came back to him.
He went to the local leather shop – The Flogging Lamb – and bought himself a self-enlarging/self-shrinking bag. He'd had his old knapsack since Mr Cosgrove had first given it to him when he'd come to stay at the Abbey when he was 14 or so. It was time for a change, or at least, time for something a bit more sophisticated. After learning the charms that made the bag tick, Brogan thanked the shopkeeper and made his way back outside. He stuffed his old knapsack into it and slipped it around his shoulders. It still felt as light as a feather.
The town was starting to awaken for the day – the coffee kiosk near the pub would soon be up and running, and he could already smell the first brew of the day. He flipped through one of the books he'd bought at the bookstore and was the first in line as soon as the witch running it flipped her sign to open with her wand. She smiled widely at him and giggled, brushing her hair back as she handed him his cup. Brogan got the idea that she was being flirtatious. It made him feel odd, so he didn't engage her too much, not wanting her to get the wrong idea.
As he walked away he realized there wasn't exactly a wrong idea to get about him, was there? He was single. He just didn't remember the last year of his life. Small thing when trying to chat someone up, he reckoned. But no, Brogan felt as though it would almost be disloyal to Harry and Ginny if he went around having flings left and right. And besides, he'd long ago learned that having flings wasn't exactly what he wanted – he'd always wanted more connection than that.
As Brogan looked up ahead, he could have sworn he saw Sean O'Brien, the owner of the bookshop he didn't like coming in his direction, so he immediately took a right. For some odd reason, he felt compelled to get off the main thoroughfare. Brogan shuddered as he thought about the owner of the Quill. He didn't like Sean O'Brien – he always made his empath abilities go haywire and being around the other man always gave him a headache. It was one of the weirdest things he'd ever experienced, so Brogan had learned just to stay away from him. He didn't need to start his trip with an aching head.
He realized shortly afterward though, that he should have turned left. Looking around he saw O'Brien again, although the man was facing the other way. Swearing, Brogan ducked down another street on impulse and found himself down an alleyway between two shops. It was strangely dark and gloomy, suddenly. Brogan stopped, the hair on the back of his neck standing up again, and he almost turned and headed back the way he'd just come. But he pursed his lips at himself and ignored his gut, suddenly feeling strangely calm. Besides, as he glanced behind him, he could see someone else making their way down the alleyway and he didn't want to cross in front of anyone he didn't know. In fact, Brogan felt compelled not to do that at all. Taking a deep breath, Brogan forged ahead, deciding to ignore his previous feelings of unease, which already seemed silly.
It was almost pitch black at the end of the alley, which made him frown – shouldn't he be seeing the end of it by now? Whichever street it emptied on couldn't be this dark, could it? He was just about to use his wand for illumination – actually why wasn't his bloody wand already in his hand?! — when it happened.
A hand reached out suddenly from apparently nowhere, and Brogan swore, backing up, thinking someone was trying to rob him or something worse. He continued backwards, keeping an eye on whatever it was hiding in the dark and he was just at the edge of it when he bumped into something. Something big. Swallowing roughly, Brogan looked up and wanted to scream – there was…a creature standing behind him, looming over him. It was a type of creature he'd never seen before and before he could even process what he was seeing, the being was draping its huge paws, yes, that's what they were, actual paws, with huge, ugly dirty yellow nails over him and then Brogan lost consciousness as the darkness surrounded them both, the bright yellow of the creature's eyes the last thing he saw.
Sean O'Brien smiled down at his prey and nodded at Michael at the other end of the alley as it suddenly flooded with light. Sean had a feeling Caley had been seeing his true image there at the end and while usually he would be tempted to erase the memory immediately, he decided to let it stay for now. It might help him later if he needed to scare the man. He waved his wand to clear the alley of the charms he'd cast to compel Caley into their trap.
Yes, this had gone exactly as he'd planned and now he couldn't wait. Now, perhaps, he could get the answers he needed.
O-o-o-o-O
Author's Note: Dun…dun…dun…oh, poor Brogan.
