author's note: Content warning: there is a slightly graphic scene at the end of the chapter.
Playlist for this chapter:
Haunted House by Florence + The Machine
Back In My Body by Maggie Rogers
Kingdom Fall by Claire Wyndham
Let This Remain by Alana Henderson
chapter one: the magical historical society of england
Drip… drip… drip…
Water was dripping from somewhere above her, a seemingly endless pattern that Ginny was almost certain she could predict by the beats between the sound of the droplet hitting the surface of a puddle.
She shivered, looking upward momentarily to see if she could trace where it was coming from. There was only darkness and an eerie green light further ahead. Ginny shivered again, a chill seeping deep into her bones. She wondered if she would ever be warm again.
As she walked quietly towards the green light, Ginny wondered what could be causing it. Was she underneath some sort of lake?
Another shiver stole through her body and then down her spine. Her foot splashed unexpectedly into a puddle, soaking her sock in frigid water and making an unpleasantly loud sound. She flinched, drawing her wand.
Ginny looked down accusingly at the puddle of water. As she looked down, she caught her reflection, staring up at her, skin bathed in the light of the green ambience. She frowned down at her reflection—something looked… not quite right. Ginny couldn't put her finger on what it might be, though. As she looked for a moment longer, Ginny's reflection grinned up at her, eyes sparkling with something that caused a nasty jolt to run through her.
She shrieked, falling backwards onto the cold, slippery limestone floor.
A cold was slipping through her whole body, and it felt like into her soul. Ginny continued to shriek, only able to think of one thing…
It was then that Ginny woke up in her warm bed in her flat.
Her throat felt raw from screaming.
She gripped her fingers tightly into the bed linens, trying to center herself after the dream. It had been quite a while since she'd dreamed of that night.
Ginny concentrated on slowing her breathing until she could hear the sounds of London more than the beating of her own heart.
She was home, and she was safe. She was warm. Still, somewhere within her, Ginny felt a coldness that she couldn't shake. What she needed, she decided, was chocolate and some tea. Midnight tea always helped her rid herself of the last vestiges of any nightmares.
For one last moment, she breathed in the scent of the duvet. It smelled of her mum's laundry soap that she always gave her and made Ginny feel like she was being protected by her parents in their home once again.
With that cheerful thought, Ginny finally had the strength to leave the warmth of her bed. She padded across her flat, feet guiding her to the kitchen and the tea kettle while she thought of the day before her and the day she'd had before she'd gone to sleep.
Ginny had arrived back home in England exhausted. She'd spent hours in customs lines, and then another large number of hours at the Magical Historical Society, writing a preliminary report that she knew she'd be forced to expound upon again soon.
All she'd wanted was her bed after the last two days, but she'd also desperately needed another shower. She'd have loved a bath but felt too grimy for it.
Ginny had stood under the warm spray of the water, trying not to think of the strange events that had occurred when they'd visited the sky caves. Now that she was home, on the other side of the continent, she could almost convince herself that she'd made it all up in her imagination.
She knew she hadn't, though.
As she had washed the grit from her body, Ginny had continued replaying the events in her mind, analyzing each moment and finding.
She was the head curse-breaker on the project—she should have been able to lead her team more effectively. She should have prodded them to explore further, taken photos with another camera.
Now, she'd have no explanation for why their funds had been wasted or why they had ended the trip early. Ginny had had a feeling she'd be hearing from her supervisor, Ariadne Greycomb. She knew Ariadne had looked for any reason to be upset with her since that incident in the Parisian catacombs, and this wouldn't help matters for Ginny.
She'd frowned as she turned off the tap and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a warm, fluffy towel around her body. Merlin, it was good to be home, she'd decided.
Ginny wondered now, in the middle of the night, whether another hot shower might do her some good. Or a bath, even, now that she was clean.
Once her tea was done, she decided.
Tea, chocolate, and baths were the way that she had always made herself feel safe after a nightmare since she'd been eleven years old. Now, at twenty-three years old, Ginny still relied on this old ritual for herself whenever the need arose. She hadn't needed it in quite a while, not since her trip to the Parisian catacombs and the aftermath of all of that.
Ginny cast the thought aside, focusing on picking out just what type of tea she might like on this fine morning.
She settled on Lady Grey from Twinings. It had long been her favourite and it was just the type of comfort she needed now. The kettle shrieked, steam billowing up from its spout, quickly creating beads of condensation on the range above her head. Ginny watched, hypnotized for a moment, as the condensation droplets slipped from the range and onto the cool metal of the stovetop—the sound reminded her of the beginnings of that dream.
Once again, Ginny shook her head of the annoying thoughts echoing in her mind. She didn't want to remember the dream and thought she might be much better off if she just cast it away from her as if it had never happened.
Ginny picked the kettle up from the hob and poured it into her favourite mug, dipping the teabag into the steaming water. Ginny reached into the ice box and removed the milk, pouring it into a little glass with a miniature spout. She set about gathering the sugar cubes, double-checked that the hob was turned off, and made her way with her tea and its fixings to the loo.
She turned on the tap and poured her favourite bubble bath potion underneath the running water. She sent a charm at her pumpkin-scented candle to ignite it, and then began to shed her night clothes. In truth, she just needed to shed the t-shirt she'd been wearing and her knickers.
As Ginny sank into the hot bathwater, she began to think.
She'd been doing too much traveling lately. She always thought this when she arrived home from a project, but within a week or two, Ginny knew that she'd be itching to get back out into the field. There were some curse-breakers that preferred their research to the field, but Ginny loved to travel, and she loved to explore. She'd seen many strange and grisly things throughout the course of her work for the Magical Historical Society, but it never seemed to get the bug out of her system.
She grabbed a small, silk towel from the nearby table and wrapped her hair up, breathing in the small luxury.
Ginny felt the tension in her back slowly release as she sank deeper into the hot bath water. The temperature of the water almost eased that feeling deep within her—a niggling, nasty knot of cold dread.
If she ignored it, Ginny was sure that it would ease eventually. The tendrils of nightmares sometimes took longer than other times to release her from its slimy tentacles…
When Ginny woke up the next morning, she had no sense of what time it might be. She already knew her hair would be a giant bird's nest from falling asleep on it wet, but she felt rested. Ginny smiled. Today was a new day.
She rolled out of bed and headed for the loo. As she glanced at a clock as she passed, she did a double take. It was half-ten. She'd slept for much longer than was normally possible for her. Ginny combed through her hair, nearly getting into a brawl with her fiery locks as she attempted to tame them. In the end, she had to charm it to lie properly on her head. There, now she looked civilized, she thought.
She got ready at a leisurely pace, sitting and drinking a cup of tea before she headed into the office. The first day back after a long project was always relaxed—she wasn't truly expected back until the next day, but she wanted to get her reports over with before there were other projects that grabbed her interest. She surely wouldn't be allowed to touch her Shambhala project again for quite a while with the way she'd royally mucked it up.
She threw on a comfy jumper and a pair of jeans, deciding that she'd apply some light makeup as well. Just because she could.
An hour later, Ginny finally left her flat and Apparated nearby to the Society. She always enjoyed the sight of the imposing estate that the Magical Historical Society was housed in. It was in an old manor that had belonged to the Nott family before the war. However, their titles and land had been stripped from the family when the Nott men had become convicted Death Eaters and war criminals, and the manor house had gone up for auction. Now, it was a source of good for the wizarding world—a place of learning and education.
Ginny grinned, taking it all in and breathing the fresh country air. How lovely.
She supposed she shouldn't have any right to be in such a good mood when she'd failed so miserably on her project, but she couldn't seem to bring herself to be too worried quite yet. It was just good to be getting back into her old routine.
She opened the large doors to the manor and stepped into the gilded entrance corridor. It was mostly quiet, but she supposed that everyone was at their desks or at lunch. As she walked to her own desk, in her own office, Ginny thought she heard footsteps echoing behind her in the corridor. When she turned to look, there was no one there.
Shrugging, Ginny continued on up the stairs to her office. Only, when she got to her office, her things were rearranged and there was a second desk in her office. She narrowed her eyes as she drew closer, thinking that that unruly mop of raven hair seemed familiar.
"Harry?" she asked.
The head that owned the unruly mop of hair turned to look at her, and Ginny found that it was indeed Harry Potter who was sitting at the newly added second desk in her office.
"Hi, Ginny," he greeted, grinning sheepishly.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
His own body language began to mimic hers as Harry also crossed his arms over his chest, his eyebrows raising high above his round spectacles. She wondered somewhere in the back of her mind if he'd ever change them out for something more modern, but didn't bother to ask this aloud, as she had more important concerns.
"I, er, work here."
She raised a single eyebrow at him, tapping her foot a bit impatiently. "Since when?"
"A few weeks," he told her, uncrossing his arms and holding his palms out in front of him as if he were trying to placate her.
"I've only been gone a few weeks," she said waspishly. "Why do you work here?"
She didn't know why she was so annoyed to see him—she and Harry had once been good friends, and lovers, even, in another life that felt so very long ago. Now, though, that he was in her office, with his own desk, she was getting angry. This was her office, she thought, probably irrationally. No, Ginny reassured herself. It was not irrational of her—she had worked incredibly hard to do well enough to earn her own goddamned office.
"Well, as you know, I am also a curse-breaker," he replied as if she were slow. She felt her face heating up, and she knew her complexion was becoming red.
"Oh, I didn't know that," Ginny told him sarcastically. "Why are you in my office?"
Harry shrugged. "This is where they assigned me."
She rolled her eyes and uncrossed her arms exasperatedly. "Fine. Asking you anything is like pulling teeth. I suppose I shouldn't have thought that would change."
Harry's eyes were narrowing dangerously. "Now, look here," he began before she raised a single finger at him in an effort to quiet him.
"No, you look here," she interrupted. He looked like he might open his mouth, so she raised her finger threateningly at him as she moved her other hand to her wand in her bag. "I worked hard for years to get my own office, and I come back from one project and you, someone who has never worked for this company, are suddenly office-sharing with me. Can you understand why I am peeved?"
Somewhere in her mind, Ginny worried that she really was being irrational, but now that she'd gotten going, there was no stopping her. This was her office, and she'd worked hard for it! She wouldn't let Harry bleeding Potter come in and take it from her without so much as a please.
Harry swallowed meekly and nodded at her. Seeing the look on his face, Ginny deflated.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, her anger receding. "I won't blame you for this. You're new here, after all. As much as it's annoying to share my office with someone who has absolutely no seniority here, I know there's someone else to blame."
Now, Harry looked relieved and curious all at once.
The gears in Ginny's head were turning, and her thoughts immediately went to Ariadne, who she thought always seemed to want to make life difficult for Ginny. It wasn't that Ariadne was a bad person—she probably wasn't—it was just that she held a grudge against Ginny for what had happened to Seneca Hopkirk.
Ginny wished she could have changed what had happened—but she couldn't, and she wouldn't spend her life being melancholy over it. She'd known so many friends and teachers that had been killed, and she missed them all dearly, but she wouldn't spend her time mourning every loss in her life.
She realized that Harry was waiting for her to say something else, but she didn't feel entirely comfortable telling her thoughts on her—and now, probably his—supervisor.
"So, what made you decide to sign on here?" she asked, finally.
He seemed to relax further, slouching into his desk chair and grinning. "I thought it might be nice to work with others that were actually trained, rather than mercenaries."
Ginny grinned back at him. "Took you long enough to come back to the side of the light."
Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "There's a lot wrong with the Magical Historical Society, but—"
"But you wanted a steady paycheck?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. She wasn't sure what had led Harry to go a separate way after they'd finished their training together, or why he'd decided to do curse-breaking adventures and projects on his own, for his own gain. He'd never been the mercenary type, and at the time it had definitely sent her on quite a tailspin.
Looking at him now, in her office (she wasn't going to just let that one go, quite yet), she was glad to see him again. She'd wondered from time to time what he was up to and how he was doing and hadn't dared ask Ron or Hermione his status whenever she'd wondered.
Harry grinned at her sheepishly in response to her assumption. "You caught me. I also caught word that you'd been working on some interesting projects and thought that maybe we could collaborate."
"Which projects are you interested in?" she asked.
"Well, the Shambhala trip you just took, for one."
"Well, it turned out to be a bit of a bust," she told Harry.
He raised his eyebrows questioningly, so she began to explain.
"I wouldn't call that a bust," Harry finally said when she'd finished the story. "Maybe just an, er, unfortunate coincidence."
"I know there was something there," she said, frustrated. "But whoever practiced those damn rituals there tainted everything, and there's something there now that's not… right."
"I'd like to see it," he said.
"Well, that's all the Society will be willing to fund," she said. "I didn't find any concrete evidence of what I was looking for. The pictures of the ritual rooms would have been something, at least, but even those didn't turn out."
"Well, we can go back, if you'd like. I know I just started, but I can take vacation…"
"No," Ginny said firmly. "I don't want either of us to use vacation time on work. I may be a bit of a workaholic, but I will be damned if I work for free."
"Now who's the mercenary?" Harry asking, grinning at her.
Ginny's heart somersaulted at the sight of his smile. Merlin, she'd almost forgotten what it looked like, and the effect it had on her. Stop it, she told herself harshly.
As she continued to look at Harry, a thought occurred to Ginny. It wasn't an idea she was altogether crazy about, and it wasn't something that would thrill Harry, but if he didn't know of his part in it all, what could it hurt?
The wheels were turning in Ginny's mind furiously and she made a decision.
"I do really want to find Shambhala," she told him mock-sheepishly. "Maybe if we can do more research and present it, it might convince the board to give us more funding." Having the Man-Who-Survived on the team won't hurt my chances one bit, either, Ginny thought. "Can you imagine our findings in a museum?"
Harry grinned at her again and she fought back her immediate response.
"It would be pretty amazing," Harry agreed.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "How would it feel to be benefiting society with your finds instead of poaching them for private buyers?"
Harry's cheeks reddened and Ginny felt a strange sense of glee at making him uncomfortable. It was one of the few things she knew she'd be able to make him feel guilty about—he'd always been so moral, besides this one shortcoming of his.
"Sorry," she apologized, even though she didn't altogether mean the apology. She felt a bit guilty, herself, now, but didn't exactly regret saying it. Sometimes, it felt like he'd always been on a moral higher ground, after their failed relationship. "Let's just change the subect… Have you been working on anything interesting?"
"Actually, I have," Harry answered. "Have you ever heard of the Gates of Alexander?"
Ginny thought back to the many historical texts she'd read. "I think so. Was that the gate that Alexander the Great built—supposedly—to protect the, 'civilized world'?"
Harry nodded. "I've been doing some research for quite a while—before I even joined here—and there's some evidence that Alexander the Great was actually a Muggle-born wizard, and his gates were possibly real, as well."
"And we haven't found them because…?"
"Have you ever heard of a wizard interested in Muggle history?" he asked.
"You're right," Ginny agreed. "We barely went over Muggle history in our training."
Harry nodded. "I was working on a project about Alexander the Great and some of his other exploits and how they could relate to magical history when I found information that led me to believe that his gates were real, and magical."
Merlin, Ginny thought. She'd forgotten how attractive Harry was when he spoke history at her.
"That sounds like it could be interesting," said Ginny. She took a seat at her desk, turning her chair to face Harry. "Have you located where they might be?"
"Muggle legend has a few different ideas. The most likely out of those, I thought, would be in Derbent, Russia."
"Russia?" asked Ginny.
"I looked into it, and Derbent for quite a long time was actually part of Iran, and not Russia."
"That makes more sense, I suppose," Ginny said. "What are you thinking these gates will actually lead to, if anything?"
Harry shrugged. "That's part of the fun, right? For all we know, they could even lead to Shambhala."
Ginny wasn't sure how he did it—they'd had it drilled into them in training that they had to plan scrupulously for each endeavor. As she looked at Harry, though, she remembered all of the adventures he'd had while he'd been at school, and he hadn't planned most of those.
One of them had been saving her, she reminded herself.
Harry was looking at her, as well, as if scrutinizing something about her.
"What?" she asked self-consciously, running a hand through her flaming red locks.
Harry grinned. "Oh, nothing. I was just thinking how fun it would be to work together on a project. Officially, for once."
Now, Ginny shrugged, and if it was a little too rehearsed, Harry didn't notice. "I think it would be great fun. We've never worked together in an official capacity."
She looked him over, remembering all the times they'd worked together unofficially. It usually involved lots of time spent in bed together, or in the shower together.
A thrill of desire shot through her, warming Ginny's core in a way that she had not been prepared for. She tried to push the memories to the back of her mind. She did not need to pay any mind to the memory of how Harry felt inside her, and how…
She pushed the memory away again.
"That's the spirit," Harry told her sardonically. "I couldn't ask for any more enthusiasm than you've just given me."
"I do what I can," Ginny smirked. "Do you want to grab some lunch and then gather a team?"
"I do."
"Great," Ginny said. She ran her hand through her hair for a moment, until her finger got caught in a tangle. Awkwardly, she tried to remove it, but that only seemed to make it worse.
"Here, let me help you," said Harry, getting up from his chair and moving closer to her. He brought a hand gently up to where her own was caught in her hair. Harry's fingers were surprisingly nimble and gentle with untangling the snarl. Ginny felt the heat coming off his body and could hardly breathe with his close contact.
She could remember vividly the way his body had felt against hers when they'd been younger. The way he'd been so warm and his muscles so taut… Her cheeks began to heat, and she tried to tamp down her traitorous thoughts. She decided to blame it all on not having been with anyone in quite a while, rather than Harry's close proximity (Ginny was not always above lying to herself, when the occasion called for it).
"There you are," Harry said.
Ginny was able to remove her hand from her hair, finally. Harry was still looking at her closely, hand still in her hair. She was close to him—it would be so easy to just lean in, she thought. His lips looked as soft as she remembered, and she was aching to prove to herself that they were.
"Thanks," Ginny said, finally managing to pull herself away. "That was a little embarrassing," she told him. Her cheeks were pink and her skin hot and she didn't think Harry couldn't possibly know the real reason that she'd reacted in such a way.
Her heart was pounding in her ears, now, as she tried to calm herself.
"Er, I probably should finish up my documentation from my trip before we grab lunch," Ginny said.
Harry finally backed away from her, a strange look on his face. "Yeah, that might be, erm, good to do," he agreed, hand rubbing the back of his neck.
She tried to make her cheeks return to their normal colour as she shot him an awkward grin and turned in her chair back to her desk, where a roll of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink sat, waiting for her.
Filing away her thoughts, she began to detail the months she'd spent researching before she'd compiled her team and shared the details with them. She then spoke about what she'd been hoping to find and the evidence that she'd found that had given her hope of finding something in the location.
Ginny was halfway through her essay when she heard the scrape of Harry's chair against the wooden floor.
"Want to get lunch now?" Harry asked her.
She thought about it. She was getting quite hungry and could use something more substantial to get her through the next bits of her journey with her team. It also helped that she was no longer on the verge of jumping Harry's bones.
"That would be great, thanks," she decided. She wiped the extra ink on the tip of the quill back into the inkwell and laid it down on the desktop. She grabbed her bag and began to walk out the door, where Harry was standing and holding the door. Ginny stopped for a moment, though, after an errant thought. On impulse, she waved her wand over the parchment, drying the ink before she rolled it and placed it in her bag with the rest of her things.
Harry raised an eyebrow at her.
"You can never be too careful," she told him seriously.
He nodded at her and they wordlessly walked back down to the canteen, where it seemed the rest of the curse-breakers, researchers, and any other employees at the Society were also gathering for lunch.
Ginny looked at her watch, confused. "I thought it was later," she admitted to Harry quietly. "I didn't really want anyone to know I was here."
"Why not?" he asked.
She shrugged in response. "They don't always like when I come in so soon after getting in from a project."
Harry furrowed his brows in confusion but didn't question her further as they walked towards the line. Ginny was glad to see that she was back in time for meatloaf day. Many of her coworkers weren't crazy about the meatloaf in the canteen, but Ginny enjoyed something about it. She especially liked it paired with potatoes, which they also had available in the line.
She heaped the helpings onto her plate and then grabbed the obligatory helping of broccoli, as well, before she showed her badge to the wizard working the checkout. He nodded and scribbled her employee number down on the parchment next to him.
"You would think we'd be able to scan employee badges here like the Muggles can," Harry said.
"Scan?" Ginny asked.
"Yeah. They have these little patterns scratched in called barcodes, and then a little machine that has a laser that reads the pattern and tells the computer about it, and then they've got your information on a list."
"Sounds strange," Ginny told him. "Though it might be that I don't know what a laser or a computer is."
"Didn't they cover either of those things in Muggle Studies at Hogwarts?"
Ginny shook her head. "If they did, I wasn't paying attention. But it was one of my best subjects."
Harry continued to shake his head in bewilderment as they took a seat at a round table by the front windows. Ginny stared outside, imagining the sunlight on her skin.
"How do you like working with the Society so far? Feel any more philanthropic than you did when you were on your own?" she asked.
Harry grinned. "It seems okay so far. It is nice that I don't have to fund my own work, and I even get paid for it. But, there are more rules and I'm not sure I've got a grasp on all of them yet."
"Rules were always difficult for you," Ginny told him, smirking. "Have they gotten even more difficult for you since you went off on your own?"
Harry shrugged, running a hand through his wild hair for a moment before he shook his head and began to eat his mashed potatoes. "Not really," he said before taking a large bite. He continued to chew for a few moments before swallowing and saying, "But it was nice not to have any."
Ginny couldn't help her smile in response as she took her own bite of mashed potatoes. "I bet. I know it's better here than at Gringotts, and I'm glad that this place opened up before we had to go work there, but I wonder sometimes what it would be like to fund my own research and stay as long as I'd like with no one to answer to."
"It can get lonely," Harry told her. "I just finished spending a year and a half in South America on another project, and it's not as exciting as others have made it out to be."
Ginny nodded. "I get that. Now, tell me more about the Gates of Alexander."
Harry began to tell her the different pieces of information he'd found on the mythical gates, and how some bits of information even seemed to conflict with each other.
"That's pretty standard when working with ancient subjects, I think," Ginny said. "Have there been any recent finds in the area?"
Harry made a strange movement. "There's some ruins there, but I'm fairly certain they're only Muggle in origin."
Ginny nodded. "I'll be interested to read your sources. I love deciphering things."
"I remember how you've always loved puzzles. It's part of the reason I thought we might make a good team."
"Oh, it's not just because it would be awkward for you not to ask since you stole half my office?" she teased.
Harry's cheeks turned slightly pink and he smiled. "Oh, it was definitely that one. That's the real reason, unless anyone else asks, of course."
"Of course."
H&G
As Ginny finished up her documentation later in the day, she did the same drying spell on her ink and duplicated her essay for her own files before she turned in her final copy to Ariadne Greycombe.
As she stepped into her supervisor's office, knocking on the frame of the open door to announce her presence, she saw that Ariadne was deep into her own research.
"I've got my documentation ready for submission," Ginny said.
Ariadne turned and gave her a look that Ginny couldn't quite decipher. "You can put in that basket," Ariadne gestured at a basket that was filled with reports from other curse-breakers.
"Thanks," she said quietly, sparing one last look at Ariadne before she left the office and the Magical Historical Society for the evening.
She thought of how strange the last few days had been—not just her project in Nepal, either, but also her nightmare, and having another opportunity to work with Harry.
She thought back to the moment from earlier in the day, when his hand had lingered right next to her face, and the heat that had built within her at his touch.
She bit her lip as she touched the part of her face that his thumb had brushed against in his quest to save her hand from her tangled hair. How long had it been since she and Harry had been together?
She tried to think back. They'd had their moments, on and off throughout the years, getting together whenever fate had seemed to bring them together for a short amount of time. One of them was always leaving on some curse-breaking project, and Ginny couldn't say that it had been heart breaking for her. She'd long ago let go of any expectations of she and Harry becoming anything of note.
While she and Harry had dated briefly before the war, and for a time after, they had grown apart and the only thing that brought them together now was sex.
Of course, now that they were working on a project together, she couldn't allow for that to happen. She knew Harry wouldn't, either. They had remained good friends throughout their curse-breaker training, when they'd had to work together for an extended amount of time. They could do it again. No matter that just being that close to him today had made her want him.
She didn't need him. She could get by well on her own, thank you very much.
Still, toys weren't as good as the real thing.
She avoided the thought and headed home to her flat. It was dark and empty when she arrived, and she'd never minded until this moment. It seemed bare of any furnishings, even, she realized. She'd never really moved in, not giving herself time whenever she was researching, and being gone quite often for her projects, as well.
Now, it bothered her to walk in and have nothing but an ugly, cheap couch and a small table. She thought she might have three plates, two forks, and one spoon in her cupboards.
Ginny shook her head, telling herself it didn't matter. What did matter right now was decompressing. She grabbed a wine glass out of a cupboard and grabbed an unopened bottle from the ice box. She poured herself a hearty glass and then took it to the loo, where she plugged the bathtub and began to run the tap as hot as she dared.
She watched the steam billow up from the gathering pool in the bathtub before she switched the tap to a slightly cooler temperature and pulled off her clothes.
Ginny finally felt free as she stepped into the hot water, letting it continue to run and pouring some bubble potion in until the water was just above her breasts and the bubbles were large and buoyant.
Ginny took a sip of the chilled white wine and sighed happily, leaning back against the cool porcelain.
She sat the glass of wine on a nearby table and laid her head back, closing her eyes. She remembered that moment with Harry from earlier in the day, again, this time beginning to imagine the way she wished it could have gone.
In her imagination, when Harry's hand lingered in her hair, he used it to twine his fingers between the strands and tug her face toward his. Their lips met, and his lips were just as soft as she remembered them, his tongue gliding along her lip and then slipping into her mouth.
Ginny sighed into his mouth and pressed herself against his body. He was tugging on her hair still, insistently, as his other hand moved to her shoulder and then snaked downwards softly, teasing her everywhere he went, leaving her tense, waiting for his hand to land where she wanted. Finally, his hand cupped her breast through her jumper, kneading it softly before he pulled away and then burrowed it beneath her jumper and then underneath her bra.
Ginny moaned against Harry's mouth as he tweaked her nipple. She twined one of her own hands into the back of his messy hair, and the other made its way down to his bum, where she grabbed on and then pulled him against her body. Now, Harry moaned, hardening against her.
She arched against his hardness, wishing she could grind her center against him. His hand left her hair and fumbled with the button on her trousers for a moment before he got it undone and buried his hand underneath her knickers, sliding it into her slick folds.
Ginny gasped, belly fluttering for a moment as one of his fingers finally pushed their way inside her opening, testing her out before adding the second finger. She wriggled against him, desperately needing friction as well.
Her hands began to unbutton his trousers, too, finding his hardness straining against his pants.
"Oh Harry, please," she whined.
She was gasping now, as he continued to play with her and she stroked him, reveling in how soft his skin was, wrapped around his hard cock.
Harry smirked at her, green eyes dark, cheeks flushed.
He helped her discard her trousers and pushed her chair out of the way, lifting her onto her desk and thrusting into her roughly. Her head hit the wall, but Ginny didn't care. Having Harry inside of her was so good, so right, so—
"Yes," Harry grunted, bringing a hand to her clit and teasing it gently as he continued to thrust.
Ginny squeaked as her legs began to tremble and her back arched, her center pulsating around him. She saw stars as Harry came inside her.
As she came back to her senses, Ginny remembered that she was in the bath. Shakily, she grabbed onto the wine glass and took a sip.
"Good Merlin," she muttered. She knew her face had to be red from her own wank. It had to be one of the best she'd had in a long while.
How would she look Harry in the eye the next day at work?
She supposed she'd have to manage the same way that she had every other time things had gotten messy—both literally and figuratively—between them.