A/N: We're back in London, but after this we'll be in the Uninhabitable Zone for two chapters. HUGE thanks to make beta ElizColl for making this readable.
The following songs make an appearance in this chapter (if, like me, you enjoy listening as you read): 1) I'm gonna be (500 miles) by the Proclaimers; 2) I melt with you by Modern English; 3) Every Rose Has Its Thorn by Modern English and 4) Hungry Like the Wolf by Duran Duran.
London
October 12, 2006
"Go! I'll see you in the morning." Daphne pushed him out the door after the uncomfortable dinner with their fathers.
Harry did not need to be told twice. He gave a quick salute to Daphne and headed straight to the front door.
"Ginny." He grabbed the officer's attention as soon as he stepped outside. She had been in the middle of what looked like a heated debate with one of the Greengrass security guards, and she immediately came to attention. "Daphne's staying here, let's go."
She nodded and spoke to the driver with her walkie talkie, jogging to keep up with Harry who was anxiously pacing the driveway. "Is everything OK?"
"Peachy," he bit out sharply. She put her hands up in surrender, and he immediately stopped and shut his eyes. "Sorry Ginny, it's been – quite a night."
Ginny nodded and didn't pressure him further.
"Actually," he turned to her, contemplating, "maybe you can help? I want to go out. Ideally somewhere I can drink and no one will know who I am."
"Yeah... I don't think so," Ginny laughed lightly before adding, "sir."
He scoffed, "Why not?"
"Someone tried to kill you less than a week ago! This is the definition of unnecessary risk!" Ginny pointed out.
"Well, if you don't help, I'll find a way to sneak out instead." He smiled smugly. "Or, I'll just choose to go to a known isolationist faction bar. The last I checked, you're not in charge of me."
"You don't think so, Mr. Potter?" Ginny challenged, her posture hardening. Harry looked unmoved, so she continued, "I may not personally scare you, but Alastor Moody is a close family friend." She smirked.
Harry's jaw quite literally dropped, his mouth frozen open in a manner completely unbecoming of a representative to parliament. "You wouldn't!" Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody was a legend. He was one of the founders of the Corps and had ensured wizardkind participated in the WEA. He was one of the Corps Major Generals now, though he tended to be rather reclusive.
"I'd rather not but I will keep you alive. Whatever it takes," Ginny assured him.
"And I really do appreciate that – I assure you." Harry smiled, but she just eyed him with suspicion. "Look Ginny," he stared at her, his face serious, "I had a terrible night. I fought with my father. I just need to – let loose – just a little!" He pleaded.
Ginny huffed, "Would Daphne be okay with you going out by yourself? Where is she anyway?"
Harry grinned, feeling sure her resolve was fading. "She's fine with it! It was her idea. She's stuck dealing with some sort of drama with her sister; otherwise, she'd be here convincing you far better than me."
The car pulled up and Ginny personally opened his door. She got in the front and gave him a hard look before having a brief conversation with the driver. The car was moving before she finally turned to Harry. "I know a place that would work," she said.
Harry gave her another smile and was about to thank her when she held her hand up in warning. "But – you will listen to me tonight, and you will wear a glamour, and," she huffed, "whatever you hear tonight, you will not use against me tomorrow." She glared at him.
Now he was really curious. "Where are we going?"
Thirty minutes later, they pulled up to what appeared to be a vacant storefront on a long abandoned street in downtown London. "What is this place?" Harry asked, adjusting his now large rectangular glasses. His hair was dirty blonde and he boasted a fake tan. Ginny had transfigured her typical officer uniform into civilian clothes - looking far less rigid in a pair of muggle jeans and a fitted black top.
"Get out your wand," she instructed and he complied, following her to the door. "Follow my lead." He copied her as she tapped a pattern onto the boarded storefront and swished her wand down. "Wait for it." She pulled him back a half foot.
Suddenly, the storefront vanished, and Harry saw only pitch black in front of him. Seconds later, small lights appeared one at a time, revealing a long passageway. Ginny waited until the lights seemed to stop. "Come on!" She beckoned Harry forward mumbling, "They couldn't help themselves – they love the dramatic entrance." She rolled her eyes, and Harry continued to wonder what this place was.
Suddenly, the lights stopped and a neon sign flashed with a downward arrow. 'Weasleys' it said, the sign itself blinking erratically as if it wasn't getting sufficient power. He looked at her with surprise and she shrugged, leading him inside.
They were now in a large chasm underground. A band played live music on a stage at one end, while clubgoers packed a moderate sized dance floor. Various tables were scattered throughout – drinks were floating but a number of stationary bars sat along the edges. Harry had a huge grin, "This is amazing! I had no idea this place was here."
"I don't imagine you get out much." Ginny shrugged.
"How do non-magicals get here?" Harry asked.
"There's a separate entrance. Not nearly as fun and dramatic. My brothers would kill me if I brought you to their club and didn't give you the full experience." She smirked.
"Alright, here we are." She dragged him to a bar on the far right and gave a wave to a red headed male; Harry assumed this was one of her many brothers.
"Gin!" The man grinned, reaching over the bar and giving Ginny a warm hug. Harry smiled at the simple gesture. "What are you doing here! I thought you were on assignment body guarding some hot shot politician?"
Harry couldn't help but laugh at the comment, though Ginny looked mortified, "Ron!" She smacked him. "This is the politician I'm keeping an eye on."
Ron looked somewhat contrite before shrugging and introducing himself. "Ron Weasley." He placed his hand out after wiping it on his apron.
Harry shook his hand. "Harry Potter."
"Blimey Gin – you got Harry Fucking Potter to come into our shitty club?" He smirked and shook his head. Harry liked him immediately; he was effortlessly genuine and seemed naturally kind hearted.
"I would have been here sooner, but I had no idea this place existed!" Harry remarked in response, shouting over the music.
"Well, to be fair, we appeal more to the riffraff, so we gotta keep your kind out." Another red head spoke, popping up to Harry's right.
"Fred," Ginny acknowledged, and Fred came around and gave her a hug. "You got my text?"
Fred nodded. "Yeah – you're all good. I added a few security charms to the club; your charge is safe here." He turned to Harry. "Pleasure to meet you, I'm Fred. If you see a less handsome version of me around, it's my brother George."
Harry smiled back, asking Ginny, "Does your family own this club?"
"Technically, it's Fred and George's. Ron works here on and off," Ginny explained, grabbing some drinks from Ron and finding them a place to sit.
"Well, to awkward family dinners," Harry said and lifted his glass, clinking it against Ginny's. He took a sip and cringed. "What is this?"
"Firewhiskey," she told him, though he noticed she was only drinking water, "You've never had it?" Her tone was clearly incredulous.
"No! That's – hot!" he confirmed, grimacing as he drank the rest of the shot.
"You politicians." Ginny shook her head, "do you only drink non-magical drinks?"
Harry shrugged. "Maybe? I've never thought about it." A tray of drinks floated towards them and Harry grabbed one.
Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't drink that too fast."
"Yes ma'am," he responded and took a sip. "So," he winced again feeling the burn of the liquor drip down his throat, "what's it like," he waved his hands around as if to imply 'living with all of this', "having a bunch of brothers?" He was relieved she seemed to have relaxed, no longer bearing the demeanor of a rigid Corps Officer.
She laughed. "It's – well, it's not bad. I love them all dearly, even Percy if you believe it. But by the time I was done with secondary school, I was so sick of all their overprotection, I signed up for the Corps and never looked back," she explained. "Mostly though, it's loud. The twins especially, they're inventors and entertainers at heart, so there was never a moment of quiet."
Harry smiled, thinking of the pervasive quiet that marked his own childhood; a little ruckus didn't sound like such a bad thing.
"So," Ginny turned to him, "are you going to share what happened that led you to a night of 'letting loose'?"
Harry laughed and considered it, shaking his head. "Daphne and I have been engaged for over a year now. Her dad is constantly nagging us to set a wedding date," he confirmed.
"That's it?" She looked disappointed.
"No." He laughed a little more genuinely this time, and she smiled when she saw it reach his eyes. "But that's all I'm telling you."
"Touché," she said, and they clacked their glasses again, Harry beginning to feel the drinks' effects.
He paused, appearing contemplative for a moment. "My father – he's a political genius," he started. Ginny's smile faded as she looked at him and nodded. "Which, when I'm running for re-election, is perfect. And when I'm trying to determine how to get votes on a bill I'm sponsoring – that's great. But when I just need my dad to be my dad, well... sometimes it's hard."
She gave him a thoughtful frown, and then Harry winced, realizing what he'd said. "I'm so sorry Ginny, I forgot about your dad."
Ginny shook her head and put her hand out to stop him. "It's alright – my oldest brother Bill, he's been like a father to me since mine passed. I know I'm blessed, having a big family. If you need someone to talk to, I'm happy to be an unbiased listener."
Harry contemplated this, smiling slightly. "I dunno - I guess that's it. Being a politician can be - exhausting. I constantly feel like I have to be a certain way. It can be draining."
"Well that's easy then," Ginny smirked, "you need to relax. Come on, it's a good band tonight, let's dance."
His eyes bulged. At first, she thought maybe she crossed a line, but then he spoke, "Oh no, no no no no, no no. I don't dance."
"Everyone dances," Ginny told him.
"Not me."
"Why?"
"I have two left feet!" he explained. "When I was younger, before the Event, my parents tried to have me formally trained like a proper Wizard; it was a disaster!"
"Well then, good thing there will be none of that formal dancing here!" Before he could protest further, she got up and yanked him along with her.
They stood towards the back of the dance floor as the house band started playing a cover of The Proclaimers' I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles).
Harry's fear of dancing began to subside, and he smiled. "I know this one!"
Ginny rolled her eyes as she danced, one hand up and pumping to the beat. "Good - you're not a complete lost cause!"
He laughed, shaking his head. He tried to imitate her dance moves, and wound up doing a strange hip roll. He could tell Ginny was trying not to laugh at him.
"Don't worry about what I'm doing - just - let loose, that's the point of dancing," she shouted to be heard over the throngs of clubbers and the bass. The chorus came on, and she jumped to the familiar beat.
Harry grinned, feeling momentarily self conscious before he joined her, jumping and singing to the familiar tune. He felt oddly liberated as he moved along with the music.
It was exhilarating - being one of a swarm of club goers, the music pulsing all around him. He watched Ginny from a foot away, her head banging and red locks, typically hidden beneath her officer's cap, swinging left to right. There was freedom in this - in being anonymous and unconcerned with how his actions were perceived by those around him - in letting himself simply be. And as he watched Ginny shout the lyrics in time with the singer, he found there was also a certain freedom in being with her.
He stared at Ginny, who had started doing some variation of the robot - completely out of time with the music. "What are you doing?" he shouted, moving closer so she could hear him, a wide smile stuck on his face.
She shrugged with a sort of half-smile. "I'm having fun - try it!"
So he did, watching her all the while. "Where did you learn this?"
"The robot?"
"No! I mean," they now stood only a few inches apart in order to speak over the cacophony, "to just - dance, enjoy yourself, not worry about anything."
He watched her smile fade slightly. "What's the point of everything else if we can't stop and dance?"
It was something he had never considered; always so wrapped up in politics and the weight of his own legacy, he could never imagine a time where he could just dance, do something fun simply for the sake of enjoyment. Contentment blossomed in his chest as he watched Ginny, now performing a variation of the sprinkler to Modern English's I Melt With You.
After a few minutes, the music shifted to a mellow tune. Dancers around them paired up as the band started playing a cover of Poison's Every Rose Has its Thorns.
Ginny frowned. "Do you want to go back to the bar?"
They stood awkwardly, surrounded by couples. Harry knew it made sense to leave the dance floor, but he couldn't remember the last time he felt so happy and at ease. So he shook his head and tentatively offered her his hand. Ginny's brows furrowed momentarily before she accepted it, allowing him to place his hands lightly on her hips.
As they swayed, Harry felt that same warmth from earlier, an undeniable sense of connection. Ginny hummed the tune gently under her breath, and Harry watched her neck flush, presumably from their prolonged contact.
He unconsciously closed the gap between them a few inches, so that rather than looking at her face, his right cheek brushed her left and her breaths blew softly against his neck. He tried to remember dancing like this in the past - he was sure he had, at some point in secondary school and at various parliament related functions since. But he always recalled it being a chore. This was - most certainly not that.
He swallowed as the Corps officer swayed gently against him, her breaths quickening. Harry Potter, politician, didn't have nights like this - he didn't get to take a break, or even take a breath. Yet, right now in this moment, Harry Potter the man breathed without worry. He closed his eyes and continued to breathe, taking in the scent of her hair, the music rumbling in his chest, the feel of her hands on his neck.
Opening his eyes again, he felt like he was seeing her for the first time. Out of her Corps uniform, her smile seemed to reach her brown eyes and mischievous dimples marked her cheeks. He realized - she wasn't just a Corps Officer, just like he was more than a parliamentary representative. He was suddenly full of questions for her - like why she joined the Corps and how she knew when it was okay to relax every now and then.
His heart quickened as she pushed her cheek towards his chest, and a small smile formed as he let his chin hover over her head, his arms wrapping around her protectively. There was a certain stillness - a sense of peace that Harry wanted to soak in.
And as quickly as it started, the song was over. He reluctantly loosened his grip and pulled away, shaking his head slightly and giving Ginny a thoughtful smile. "Alright?" he asked stupidly, not sure what to say.
She nodded at him, her face conflicted. "I'm - uh - going back to the bar."
Harry nodded. "Alright," he repeated, unable to form a proper sentence.
They returned to the bar, and Ron handed them drinks, giving Harry an inscrutable look before he returned to mixing cocktails.
A voice sounded behind them. "Ginevra Weasley." Ginny's eyes widened and she froze, her hand hovering beside her glass.
"Dean Thomas," she responded, getting a hold of herself. Harry watched the interaction curiously.
"I heard you were here," Dean said, giving her a knowing look.
"I'm working," she said, pointing to Harry.
"Ron can look after him." Dean waved her excuse off. Now she gave Harry a meaningful look, mouthing 'Help me!'
"Er," Harry looked from a petrified Ginny to an excited Dean and an amused Ron.
"Oy Ginny, you know we're not going to let you out of here without a song or your tab paid." Ron shooed her away. "I'll keep an eye on the hot shot for you."
"Remember what I said, Potter - what you see in the club stays in the club," she said in a voice only he could hear. He stood up straight to salute her as she headed towards the stage.
"A song?" Harry asked.
"Ginny's a singer," Ron confirmed, manually drying a tumbler with a rag. "She's quite good. In another life, maybe she would have made a living off of it." He shrugged.
"Seriously?" Harry asked.
"Seriously."
"I never would have guessed," Harry mumbled, taking another sip of his drink and turning his attention towards the stage, where the music had stopped. He winced slightly at the buzz of feedback coming through the speakers and suddenly heard Dean Thomas's voice:
"We have a treat for you tonight! For one song only, I give you – Ginny Weasley!"
Harry noted he was not alone in clapping, and there were a few catcalls throughout the audience. The guitar and a drumbeat started and Ginny tapped her foot to the music, her eyes closed and her head nodding to the beat of Duran Duran's Hungry Like the Wolf.
Dark in the city, night in a wire
Steam in the subway, earth is afire
"Holy crap," Harry said, eyes wide.
"Yeah." Ron shook his head laughing.
"She's amazing!" Harry watched as she sang into the microphone, meeting each note. He'd never seen anything like it. He'd been to concerts before, even a few dinner parties at the Greengrasses where they had live music, but this was something different. He couldn't quite name what precisely he was feeling. but listening to Ginny sing, he felt lighter, more free, than he'd felt in a long time. His fight with his father fell away, unimportant, and he was aware only of her voice and a pleasant warmth blossoming in his chest as he watched her sing
She opened her eyes and looked right at him, a brilliant smile splayed across her face. For all her hesitation before, she looked confident now, even comfortable:
Woman, you want me, give me a sign
And catch my breathing even closer behind
"So," Ron started. Harry blinked at the interruption and turned towards Ron, who was looking at him suspiciously. "What's it like being Harry Potter?"
Harry laughed, "It's exhausting."
"Yeah?" Ron smirked.
In touch with the ground
I'm on the hunt, I'm after you
Smell like I sound, I'm lost in a crowd
And I'm hungry like a wolf
"I mean it has its moments, like almost getting blown up." Harry shrugged.
"I'll bet." Ron shook his head.
"What about you? Ginny said you only work here sometimes?" Harry recalled.
Ron nodded, "I'm trying to bring sports back."
Harry looked up, eyes wide. "Really?!"
Ron smiled, "Yeah. I've got a small football league put together. I've been working with Krum to try and get some broomstick legislation passed – oh how I dream of Quidditch!"
"Oh, Quidditch." Harry thought back in nostalgia to the short amount of time he had been allowed to fly.
"So, I can count on your support?" Ron's eyes sparkled.
"No comment." Harry smirked.
Harry turned his attention back to the stage; Ginny had removed the mic from the stand and danced the stage. She was an odd juxtaposition - stern Corps Officer by day, singer by night. But maybe, in a strange way, there was a sense of harmony to it - she had found something that kept her grounded.
Strut on a line, it's discord and rhyme
I'm on the hunt, I'm after you
Mouth is alive with juices like wine
And I'm hungry like the wolf
Burning the ground, I break from the crowd
I'm on the hunt, I'm after you
Scent and a sound, I'm lost and I'm found
And I'm hungry like the wolf
"You look athletic enough, take this." Ron reached into his back pocket and handed Harry a blank card.
"Er," Harry looked on both sides of the card, "what am I supposed to be looking at?"
Ron shook his head. "It's a game card. We have a few intramural football leagues. Once a week or so, this will warm up and show a time and place and, if you want, you can show up and play football." He shrugged.
Harry's eyes lit up. "Really?!"
"Yes," Ron laughed, "it's only us common folk though, so don't be expecting us to call fouls or anything like that."
"Of course." Harry smiled, pocketing the card.
Harry looked back towards the stage in time to catch the end of Ginny's performance. She gave a brief 'thank you' and deftly avoided an encore.
"You were amazing," Harry told her earnestly as she took her seat next to him again. Her face was bright red, but she wore a brilliant smile.
"Thank you!" She grabbed the water Ron handed her without even looking his way, chugging it down and then using the jumper she previously wore to wipe sweat from her face. "That was exhausting! I feel so out of shape!"
"Different muscles, sis," Ron reprimanded her.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Ginny rolled her eyes and then focused back on Harry. "So, mission accomplished then?"
He shook his head, confused. "Sorry, what?"
She laughed. "We came here so you could relieve some tension, let loose; you feel like you've done that?"
Harry thought for a moment and then smiled broadly, nodding his head. "Thank you," he said genuinely.
"You're welcome! And on that note," she looked at her watch and sent a quick message on her phone, "we're out of here."
Harry pouted, "It's so early!"
"It's not!" she reprimanded. "It's almost midnight – curfew is at 1am, and it will take at least 20 minutes to get to your apartment in that monstrosity that takes you everywhere."
"Ah ha – so you agree? That thing is ridiculous." Harry wagged his finger at her.
"Yes, but it keeps you safe." She waved good-bye to her brothers and led Harry out the non-magical entrance, which he admitted was quite boring and led out to a less run-down street.
The car was waiting for them at the entrance. Ginny opened his door and, when he dilly dallied, she practically manhandled him into his seat.
The drive was short – the roads clear this time at night, as they drove from the east side to central London. Harry rested his cheek against the window as they passed the dimly lit rebuilt shops and dilapidated war-torn rubble.
The car stopped in front of his apartment building. Harry made a halfhearted attempt to open his door, before Ginny was suddenly in front of him. She opened his door open with one hand and mumbled something into her phone with the other, her eyes scanning the front of his apartment building. Harry blinked a few times, attempting to clear his head, before taking a deep breath and heading in.
Ginny helped him up to his apartment, pocketing her phone as she continued to analyze their surroundings. This wasn't the woman he had danced with or the singer - this was the meticulous Corps Officer who was, he acknowledged, quite good at her job. She grabbed his key and opened the door, rolling her eyes as he swayed slightly.
"Remember your promise Potter?" Ginny made a zipping motion over her mouth, hand still on the doorknob as Harry stood at the threshold.
Harry laughed, recalling her singing. "You shouldn't keep it a secret. You're really good."
She shook her head, and waved inside before leaving. Harry turned, smiling, as he noticed Daphne sitting on the sofa.
"Daphne!" Harry called out.
"Harry! Oh darling, you're drunk!" Daphne remarked, her expression shifting from pensive to amused.
"Psh! Just a little tipsy," he explained, holding his thumb and forefinger close together, "I have to tell you about Ron Weasley. He's gonna bring back Quidditch!" Harry trailed off.
"Well, I'm glad you made it home alright." Daphne grabbed his arm, pushing him to the bedroom.
"What are you still doing up? Did you wait for me?"
Daphne looked Harry over and swallowed. "There was – something I wanted to tell you but," she paused and shook her head, "it can wait until tomorrow. Let's get you to bed."