It was, Arthur later understood, the silence that first woke him.

But he did not notice at first. Instead, he blinked in the early morning light. Looking out the window, he noticed that the sun was just beginning to crest over the high mountains to the east of the Burrow. His body, he thought wryly, was too used to waking early that even after such a late night, it was impossible to have a bit of a lie-in.

Scrubbing his face, he was careful to be as quiet as he could (not knowing yet that he could have been as noisy as a herd of elephants stampeding through their bedroom, and Molly still would not have heard him), and padded into their bathroom.

After getting everyone settled last night, he and Molly had cuddled together after making love for the first time in months. Few words had been spoken – after so many years of marriage they had different ways of communicating. The way she'd caressed him had been both an apology and an expression of joy. He was satisfied that his own actions had spoken of his feelings.

It had been quite some time since Arthur had woken up so content: months, possibly even years.

He was so lost in his thoughts, that it was not until he bent and pressed a kiss on his sleeping wife's cheek that he finally realized that something was strange. He could see the rise and fall of her breath, but he couldn't hear it. His mind still befuddled with sleep, he stared down at her for almost a minute.

"What's going on?" he whispered – or tried to. He moved his lips, but no sound emerged from his mouth.

Hmm.

Arthur stamped his feet, clapped his hands, and started to hum a dreadful Celestina Warbeck song that Molly adored. Nothing. A momentary fear washed over him - have I gone deaf? But he quickly realized that the problem was more likely magical in nature, rather than physical.

Certain delicate aspects of what Ginny had said the night before flashed through his mind, and he had a good idea what had caused this. Deciding to test his theory, he grabbed his wand and slipped out of the room, and walked down the short flight of stairs. Ginny's door was tightly shut; there was no sign of whether there was one person in her bedroom or two.

Arthur suspected the latter.

Holding his wand up, he cast a detection charm; delicate swirls of blue swam in front of his vision, and his theory was confirmed.

Arthur couldn't help but be impressed at the strength of the silencing charm. After he found himself smiling at the door for long moments, he shook himself out of his daze. What kind of father is actually happy that his teenaged daughter had locked herself in her room with her boyfriend? he asked himself. And is impressed rather than outraged at the charm?

However, he found himself entirely unable to feel anything other than joy that his daughter had come so far in such a short amount of time. Even if it was unnatural.

His contentment was short-lived.

A detection charm was simple enough to do without actually voicing the spell. In fact, most people considered that to be the one of the finest aspects of it. However, breaking a silencing charm was, as Arthur soon found out, impossible to do nonverbally.

Damn and blast, he thought, casting a wary look up the stairs. It was still early, but he'd never been able to predict the twins' actions. They'd stayed the night, and if they woke up and discovered what had happened…

Precisely three seconds later, Arthur had Apparated to Bill's kitchen. Normal sounds filled his ears. "Thank Merlin," he muttered, delighted to hear the sound of his own voice.

"Dad?"

Bill stood next to the sink, gaping at him, and clutching a glass of water. "What's going on? Is it Ginny? Has anything else—"

"No, no," Arthur shook his head. "Nothing is wrong. I'm sorry for barging in here like this… but we have a bit of a situation at home."

"What kind of situation?" Bill asked blankly.

"The kind of situation you can't tell your brothers about," Arthur said sternly, wanting to get that out of the way as soon as possible. "Especially the twins. And you probably shouldn't mention it to your sister, either," he added.

Bill looked even more confused. "All right," he said slowly.

"There was a silencing charm cast around your sister's room last night – something went odd, I think—"

"Odd, how?" Bill asked.

"When I woke up, I couldn't hear anything," Arthur admitted. "I stomped around, sang, talked to myself… it was all silent. And I couldn't break the charm because I couldn't do it nonverbally…"

Arthur watched as understanding smoothed the confusion on his oldest son's face. Where Bill's face had been one big, sleepy question mark, now there was a knowing glint in his eyes, and a smirk on his face. The smirk was quickly hidden, but Arthur had caught it nonetheless.

At least it's better than how the twins would've reacted, thought Arthur. "Remember, not one word to the twins," Arthur said out loud.

Bill shrugged. "All right, but…"

"No buts," Arthur said sternly. It wasn't often that he was strict with the boys (he happily left that to Molly), but when he was, he meant it. "Can you break the charm?" he asked.

"Of course," said Bill. He grimaced then, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "Don't you think it's a little soon for them?" he asked bluntly. "I mean… you're her dad; don't you think you should be—"

"Storming into their room, hauling Harry out of bed, and throwing him out of the Burrow?" Arthur finished humorously. The idea was ludicrous.

"It's a fair point," said Bill. "Not throwing him out. But they are both obviously… six months ago I would've said that Ginny wouldn't let anyone touch her casually, let alone intimately. And Harry!" he appeared momentarily speechless at that point, but Arthur waited quietly. "It just seems soon," he finished lamely.

"It may be soon for us, but not for them," Arthur pointed out. "They've both just spent years being almost completely alone and cut off from everyone."

"True," Bill said slowly. The spark of humor returned to his eyes. "So I'll just think it's funny that my little sister had the guts to sneak her boyfriend into her room late at night."

Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. "Good boy. Let's go break the charm before anything happens."

"Not a problem," said Bill.

It was a bit more of a problem than Bill thought, however. Even after they Apparated directly in front of Ginny's door, it still took him more than five minutes to break it, and Arthur watched as a fine sweat broke over his brow. Having to do things nonverbally just made it so much more difficult, Arthur thought. And as the seconds passed, he was warier and warier, and keeping a sharp eye on the stairs.

"That should do it," whispered Bill.

Arthur jumped, and then chuckled wryly. "It's funny how easy it is to get used to something being wrong," he said. "And then how disconcerting it can be when it all goes right again."

"Good point," Bill said dryly.

They walked quietly down the stairs. Arthur was just about to suggest that they have an early breakfast together, when he saw the huge, tawny wings of a Ministry owl. It glared at him through the window with a beady eye, and fluttered its wings. Sighing, and giving up hope of breakfast, Arthur opened the latch on the window, and let the bird in. Disdainfully, it held out its leg for Arthur to take his message, and then spun into the air (clipping Bill in the head with its wings as it did so), and flew away.

"It's from Kingsley," said Arthur, recognizing the bold, precise writing on the envelope. He broke the wax seal, and opened the letter, feeling a stir of trepidation. Staring down at the parchment, he read quickly.

Arthur,

Please come to the Ministry of Magic as soon as possible.

Kingsley

"Well," Arthur said slowly. "I guess I'd better get dressed."

Ginny woke up in her own bed at the Burrow. It took a few seconds, blinking blearily at her surroundings, to remember fully the events of the day before. Sennet's death at her hands, Arnold's near death, Harry's timely arrival… She reached out her hand for Harry, but found the bed beside her empty.

"Harry?" she sat up, looking around. Sunlight streamed in through the window, revealing that her room was empty except for a few pieces of furniture and her scattered belongings. It was almost as though him stealing into her room last night to comfort and make love to her had been a dream.

But there was a pleasant ache between her thighs that told her otherwise. And Ginny glanced at herself in the mirror (even though she was alone, her cheeks brightened with color), and remembered how intense it had been to watch Harry's reflection moving above her. Sennet's assault seemed very far away, cocooned as she was by Harry's love for her.

Ginny slid out of bed, picked up the dressing gown she'd tossed on the floor the night before, and threw it over her shoulders. Not even bothering to get dressed for the day, she scrubbed at her face with a washcloth, and swiped at her hair with a brush. Two minutes later, she opened her door and hurried through it—

"Ooof!" she said, surprised, when she almost immediately banged into Harry.

Their impact startled a chuckle out of him, and he grasped her underneath her elbows to steady her. "Should've chosen a better place to lurk, I suppose," he said, green eyes bright behind his glasses. He did not look particularly sorry, however, as he drew her into a tight hug.

"I missed you when I woke up," she admitted. Although now that her sleepiness had mostly cleared from her mind, she reckoned it was probably a good thing that he hadn't blatantly passed a night in her bed. "How long have you been out here?"

"Er – not long," he said, sounding strangely uncomfortable. "I missed you too," he added hastily. "But I didn't think it would be a good idea for me to stay."

Ginny pulled back, taking in the details of his appearance. Unlike her, he was fully dressed, and had obviously gone to some effort to clean and press his robes. Narrowing her eyes, she noticed that he'd even shaved. Only a few tufts of hair stood up from his usually adorably untidy head, as though he'd recently attempted to tame it.

"What's going on?" she asked suspiciously.

"What? Nothing," he said defensively.

She backed away and went down a few of the stairs leading to the bottom floor. He followed her without hesitating. Good, she thought, satisfied. If any self-blame or doubt had resurfaced, he would've been dragging his heels. But still. It was very strange that he had combed his hair, and she intended on finding out why.

He huffed out a sigh. "I'm just a little nervous," he said softly. Ginny stopped a few steps up from the bottom. They were close enough to the kitchen that she could hear bustling and murmurs. Harry moved by her so he could look her in the eye. "I feel a bit like how I felt the morning after we first kissed," he told her, gripping her hand. "I'm really happy to be here, but I'm a little…" his voice trailed away, and he shrugged.

Ginny cupped the back of his head in her left hand, leaned forward, and kissed him. Her intent was not to arouse, but to reassure. And as her mouth slid over his, and his arms came up to wrap around her, she could feel some of the tension leaving his body. She drew back a little, resting her forehead against his.

"I have a very good feeling that they're going to love you," said Ginny, because he sounded like a bloke about to meet his witch's family for the first time.

"Let's just hope they haven't figured out what you meant by me cherishing you," muttered Harry, kissing her jaw. But this obviously didn't make him too anxious, for he smiled a bit smugly. "Or that you felt cherished three times last night."

Ginny grinned. Harry never tired of making her orgasm – but that was all right. She never tired of him making her orgasm either. Slowly and reluctantly, however, she disentangled herself from his embrace, and distanced herself a bit. It wouldn't do to start something on the stairs at the Burrow.

Unable to resist, she reached out and mussed his hair while he yelped. Grabbing his hand again and skirting around him, she pulled him down the remaining stairs and toward the kitchen. "Morning," she said determinedly. Her mum, Ron, Hermione, the twins, Angelina Johnson, and Percy crowded around the kitchen table.

It over-flowed with food: sausage, kippers, eggs, and bacon weighed down one side. Toast, muffins, and seven different kinds of jam spread out across the other. It looked as though her mum had gone into a Harry-inspired cooking frenzy and had whipped up everything in the pantry.

So Harry's not the only one who is nervous, Ginny thought to herself.

"Morning, dears," her mum said in a subdued voice.

Harry cleared his throat. "Morning."

"At least it's still morning," said Ron. Ginny looked over; the clock read ten minutes after eleven. "We thought you two might sleep the day away."

"Not quite," said Harry.

Ginny squeezed his hand, and there was an awkward little shuffle toward the table. Ron and Hermione scooted over far enough that there was just enough room for them both at the end. She watched Harry stare down at the table, then lift his gaze to peer around the room, lingering on the windows and cups and the other things he'd destroyed during his rage of the night before.

Her stomach dropped a little, remembering. But she did not need to think about Sennet, his attack, or his death. Instead, she focused on filling a plate, while Harry did the same.

"Where's Dad?" Ginny asked.

"He's with Kingsley," her mum answered promptly. "Take a few more sausages, Harry," she urged. "And there were a few things to take care of at Hogwarts and the Ministry—"

"What kind of things?" Harry asked sharply.

"Nothing you needed to be involved with," her mother answered sternly. "Both of you need to rest and relax, and all of this"—she gestured with both hands—"can be handled by Arthur and Kingsley."

"But—"

Ron pushed Harry hard enough that Ginny had to throw her foot off to keep from falling off the side of the chair. "Watch it, Ron," she said, avoiding Harry's arm. His elbow had slammed into his plate, and the sleeve of his robes was covered in scrambled eggs and jam.

Ginny fought a grin as she grabbed a few napkins and started swiping at it, cleaning it off. The twins were laughing, and Angelina and Hermione spoke quietly to one another, glancing at Ginny every so often and beaming. "There," she said, when she'd cleaned off the worst of the mess. Her eyes met his. "All clean. No thanks to Ron."

"Thanks," he said, resting his forehead against hers for a moment. For a brief instant, Ginny thought he might kiss her in front of most of her family, but he seemed to decide against it and pulled away.

Not soon enough.

"How in the name of Merlin—"

"How did this even happen?"

It appeared as though both her mother and Percy of all people had reached some sort of breaking point. Her mother's head swiveled back and forth between them, and she was chewing on her bottom lip. Percy just looked completely bewildered, as Ron and Hermione laughed.

But it was George who answered first. "Harry's been teaching Ginny Defense Against the Dark Arts," he said wickedly. And while it was perfectly true – Harry was her professor, after all – the innuendo was far from subtle. Ginny trembled on the verge of being extremely embarrassed, and plucked at her dressing gown.

"Not all year, it didn't happen right away," Harry said defensively. Ginny stifled a groan – he'd fallen right into their trap.

Ron snickered.

"So you haven't been her professor all year?" Fred asked, attempting to sound innocent and fooling no one.

"Or you haven't been—"

"George!" her mum said sternly, while the twins laughed.

"They think they're really funny," Ginny said, lips twitching. A flush had crept up his neck and spread across his cheeks. His leg even started jiggling as though he wanted to escape.

"Aren't we, though?" Fred asked, stroking his chin in a way that only meant trouble. "I'm just trying to get some answers."

"Like… when the two of you were practicing Transfiguration in Harry's office…" George said, with an air of suppressed excitement. Ginny thought about silencing him, but a small bit of the tension had been eased by the teasing.

"Which one of you really needs to work on it a little more?" finished Fred.

"That is no concern of yours," her mum said, as Harry dropped his head into his hands. "Anyway, Ginny, dear," she said. Ginny rather suspected that her mother was enjoying herself more than she let on. Poor Harry, she thought, patting him on the back. Even Percy was hiding a smile behind his hand.

"Yes, Mum?"

"When did you two…" she gestured vaguely, eyebrows flaring up; the surprise had obviously not died down over night. Ginny was actually a little surprised that her mother hadn't peppered them with questions as soon as they'd walked into the kitchen.

"It was right after Christmas," said Ginny.

"But I knew I fancied her before that," Harry put in, as though this was a matter of great importance. "Ron, could you stop nudging me?" he asked peevishly.

Ron chuckled, and mumbled something Ginny was pretty sure she didn't want to hear.

"Christmas?" Percy asked shrewdly, ignoring his younger brother's antics, which Ginny thought was very smart of him.

"Right after, yeah," Harry confirmed. "December thirtieth."

"I had to kiss him first," Ginny said smugly. "I'm more of a Gryffindor than he is."

"That's not a surprise," Ron said with great good cheer. "Harry doesn't seem like the type who'd be very good with – ow! Merlin, Harry, your elbow's like a dagger."

Ginny ignored Ron. "And we've been together pretty much ever since," she added, deciding not to mention the three weeks when she hadn't spoken to Harry at all. Her hand crept over his thigh and squeezed. In the silence that followed, Ginny ate a few bites, taking the opportunity to fill her stomach before the interrogation really began.

"I wanted to kiss you before you wanted to kiss me, if that counts," Harry told her.

Ginny gaped at him. "You are joking, right?"

He looked at her, surprised. "No..." he said slowly. "Actually, I'm not." His brows knit together. "I thought you realized you wanted to when I took you to the Mirror of Erised?" The tone of his voice made it sound like a question. His hand flew to his hair, rumpling it even further.

They stared at each other, while the twins snickered in the background. "You're actually serious?" Ginny asked, a wide grin stretching across her face. "You are!" she said gleefully. "You knew I had a crush on you."

"Yes, when you were younger, but..."

Ron snorted. "She's been wanting you to kiss her since she was about three, mate," he said. Ginny thought this was a mild exaggeration, but only by a year or two. Her enjoyment of the moment deepened.

"She used to make us play house with her," said Fred. "And you were always her husband. Not actually you, of course," he added.

"But one of us - her poor minions," George continued.

"Ron was always the bridesmaid," Percy added smugly.

"They were always very sweet to her," her mum smiled, winking at Harry.

Harry was speechless for several long moments, before he rallied and turned back to her. "As much as it's fun to picture Ron in a bridesmaid gown-"

"I never wore a gown!" Ron said indignantly. "I wasn't that nice to her. I wouldn't wear girl clothes for love or money," he muttered under his breath.

But the weight of Harry's attention was focused fully on Ginny, she could tell. He pursed his lips. "I don't mean then," he said. "I meant now - this year." The titters from the twins and Ron had died away, and Harry's voice was very serious. She knew what he was thinking; he'd obviously been under the impression that her crush on him had died at Malfoy Manor, and that she'd developed feelings for him this year without that foundation.

"I never stopped having a crush on you," she informed him. "Or wanting you to kiss me, or thinking about it."

His mouth opened and closed repeatedly. "But surely you didn't after..."

Ginny rubbed at her nose, sort of wishing they could be having this conversation in private, but also glad that her family was there. She could use them as props. "Fred, remember when you burned down half the orchard?"

Her mother gasped. "That was you?"

Ignoring this, Ginny pressed forward. "Do you remember what game we were playing?"

Fred grinned at her. "Harry Potter Battles the Dragon to Win the Lady's Favor."

"Ron was the dead princess," George said wickedly. "The dragon's first, unlucky victim – you know, to add a bit of fun to the game. Fred and I were the dragon. Bill, I think, was you," he added, pointing at Harry.

"That doesn't explain why you burned the orchard down," her mum said severely.

"Dragons breathe fire, Mum," Fred pointed out with a winning smile. "Didn't you want us to make it realistic for her? Charlie taught us."

"Entertain your sister, boys," George said in a shrill but uncanny imitation of their mother.

Ginny chanced a glance at Harry. He looked as though he either wanted to sink right through the floor or laugh. Her cheeks felt hot, and she was a little embarrassed that her crush had obviously been above and beyond what he'd thought it had been.

"But how did it happen that you two would spend enough time together?" Percy persisted in the original line of questioning, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"I'm her professor, so we saw each other during class," Harry told him. "And then… we hung out with Hagrid, and started flying together. It was sort of a gradual thing. But… not really, because when I look back, I think I started falling in love with her right away."

Her mother looked to be on the verge of bursting into tears.

Ginny winced.

"That's… very sweet," her mum said weakly.

Ginny glanced up at Harry's face; he seemed a little embarrassed to have been so open, but when he noticed her look, he gave her a quick smile.

"How come you're never this excited when I bring home a witch, Mum?" Fred asked, smiling broadly.

"Maybe I would be if you hadn't already brought home about twenty girls," her mum fired back instantly. "Sometimes two at once. And don't think I don't know about that, young man."

"Two at once? You've got to be kidding," said Fred. "I'm not that talented." His eyes widened, and a particularly evil smile spread across his face, and he looked at Harry. "I'd need a textbook manual for that, Mum. You know. The kind they sell at Flourish and Blotts," he emphasized his words very carefully.

George chuckled. "I know what kind of textbook manual you're talking about, Fred," he said, giving a little nod. "In fact... Hermione said that she sees people buying that kind of stuff all the time..."

Ginny decided then that six brothers was two too many.

Two equal desires warred inside Harry: wanting to hold everyone in the room at wandpoint until they agreed to never mention that book again, and pointing out that of all the witches in the room, Ginny had the biggest smile on her face. Had Mrs. Weasley not been in the room, Harry probably would have combined the two.

"I'm sure Hermione sees all sorts of people buying all sorts of books," said Harry. He kept his voice mild. Underneath the table, Ginny patted him on the knee. At least she seemed fine with all the innuendo and teasing that had dogged them from the time they had entered the kitchen. The knots in his shoulders relaxed further, and the unease that had bubbled in his belly since he'd left Ginny sleeping in her room had disappeared completely.

It struck him how stupid he'd been to leave these people for all those years.

"Not everyone who buys—"

George's sly, teasing tone turned into a little scream of surprise and fear when squeaking bats erupted out of his nose. He grabbed at his face, but the bats kept coming; Fred, Ron, and Percy roared with laughter. Looking at Ginny, Harry raised his eyebrow.

But instead of smirking, she shrugged. "It wasn't me," she said.

"And that's quite enough from you," Mrs. Weasley said, putting away her wand. Her eyes were twinkling, and she looked quite proud of herself. "The Bat Bogey Hex was always one of my favorites," she said.

Hermione, Angelina, and Ginny laughed then.

"I'm sorry, babe, but you deserved it," Angelina said fondly, patting George on the shoulder. He cast her a pitiful look as the last of the bats came out of his nose, but no one around the table was inclined to pity him. Harry himself was having a great deal of fun.

The rest of the breakfast was less eventful, though it was still punctuated by teasing comments and laughter. Harry recognized this; for some who had not been in these types of situations before, it may seem more than a little strange. They laughed often – relief made things funnier, and Harry suspected that Ginny's ease with her family, and Harry's own presence added to the general hilarity of the moment.

Harry felt as though yesterday had, in fact, happened months ago, maybe even years. As they finally finished eating (Ron was already asking when they'd have lunch), Harry walked with Ginny into the sitting room, throwing his arm over her shoulder. No one appeared anxious to leave or do anything more than sit around and tease each other. Only Mrs. Weasley had a task to do – she was knitting small fuzzy things that might have been a gift for Remus and Dora's new baby.

Harry did not even notice that Mr. Weasley had entered the room until he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder, and turned to see him. His face was set in thoughtful lines. Remus Lupin was behind him, smiling his faint smile. "Can we speak to you a moment?" His eyes shifted from Harry's, to Ginny's, and back to Harry's.

Harry and Ginny followed him and Lupin out to the yard, where they could most reasonably expect a certain amount of privacy. Harry suspected there were long Weasley noses pressed to the windows of the Burrow, watching them to see what was happening. Harry appreciated that they gave them this opportunity for privacy, though he knew it wouldn't last.

"What's happened?"

"Nothing terribly bad," Remus reassured him. "Kingsley was concerned because it looked as though Ravenna Sennet - Merlin, that woman is cold - was going to make difficulties for all of us. But she let something slip..."

"...It turned out that she'd... nudged her son in Ginny's direction," Arthur said grimly.

Everything about Harry seemed to sharpen into focus. "Pardon?" He said mildly.

"She said she regretted ever pushing her son toward Ginny, if this was to be the way of it," Remus said. "No, she doesn't need to be seen to," he said sharply, when Harry pulled out his wand - to do what, he had no idea, but it felt like he should do something.

"And what happened to her?" Ginny said.

"Ah, the Aurors, and Kingsley decided that was implied culpability," Arthur said. "They hauled her off into the interrogation room. By the time a wizard-at-law could be found to represent her, she had confessed to a great many things even beyond what we even dreamed. Sennet is dead. His mother is headed to Azkaban. They are raiding her house as we speak - she was... she did things that will keep her in there for the rest of her life."

Harry and Ginny exchanged a glance.

"Good," said Ginny.

And it was. Arthur and Remus left them a moment later. Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny, and rested his chin on the top of her head. "It's over," he said, closing his eyes.

Ginny laughed. "It's only just beginning, you know," she murmured, leaning back against him. "The good part, that is. It's just beginning."