A/N: Thank you for all of your thoughtful reviews! Since the moment I started writing this story, I felt very strongly about not creating a cliché "aha" moment for Ginny to realize she has feelings for Harry. That eliminated things like jealousy, surprising dreams, the emotional impact of him being in danger, etc. (all of which I've used in other stories; and they have a time and place). I really wanted to explore Ginny's subconsciously growing to care about Harry and how that might play out against her finally knowing how he's felt about her. There's not going to be an immediate resolution, but I hope it's a realistic one (Sorry, Ella. But your scenes are coming, I swear). Also, it was such a relief to finally show Harry's POV! We're going to see more of him from now on.
Ginny shut the door behind Harry and leaned against it, sliding bonelessly down to the floor. Her thoughts were swirling so quickly she didn't even know where to let them land. The bottle of Firewhiskey winked at her from her coffee table and she considered whether her arm was even steady enough to levitate it to her when she realized she'd left her wand on the sofa.
"Bugger," she said to herself.
Slowly, she got to her feet and walked the few steps to the sofa before collapsing face-first onto the cushions. She decided against another drink; this was something she needed to think about sober.
Her friendship with Harry was new enough that she was still getting to understand how he fit into her life. Now it was all changed, and Ginny felt like she was going to have to relearn how to interact with him all over again. And this time, she was going to have to do it knowing that his feelings for her were . . . what? She'd been so shocked by his revelation – not to mention the fact that she'd apparently taken it upon herself to hold his hand – that she couldn't quite remember what he'd said. The fact that he'd started to fancy her when she was fourteen and generally acting like a total brat to him was a little overwhelming. And the fact that his feelings had survived – and apparently grown – over the intervening years was . . . again, what?
Ginny eyed the bottle of firewhiskey, reconsidering another shot before sighing and sending the bottle and the two dirty glasses back to her kitchen. She needed to think about this logically.
Did she feel about Harry the way he apparently felt about her?
Well, no. Not right now. She'd have known if she did, and as she sat on her sofa, cushions still warm and dented from where Harry had been sitting, she was pretty confident that her shock at his admission had been genuine. But.
Could she ever feel that way about him?
This question gave Ginny more pause. She hadn't had a boyfriend since she and Dean had broken up her fifth year, and of the few minor flings she'd had since then, the one with Dam had gone the furthest, which was to say, not far at all. Ginny had been happy to focus on Auror training, assuming in the back of her mind that at some point, she'd meet someone to be with. She'd given no thought to whom this hypothetical boyfriend might be, or even what kind of bloke she might be looking for. She hadn't even been looking. But she'd held Harry's hand. Had that been her brain unconsciously trying to tell her something, or merely a reaction to the comfort of his friendship? And how was she to figure out the difference?
A roar of noise outside drew Ginny out of her thoughts. Without even going to her window, she knew that one or more Arrows players had just left the building by the front door, and the crowd of fan-witches was reacting. She frowned at her watch; it was rather late for them to be going to a pub, and hadn't Harry said they were leaving for a road trip in the morning?
Curiosity piqued, Ginny got up and looked out her window. What looked like the entire team was making their way down the sidewalk, dressed identically in their traveling cloaks and carrying matching duffle bags. One of the coaches waited at the end of the path and seemed to be urging them along. Even with everyone dressed alike, Ginny had no trouble picking out Harry as he walked along, bag looped over his shoulder and hair still extra messy from when he'd ruffled it during their talk. He didn't stop to speak with any of the fans that lined the sidewalk, but as he got to the end, he turned around, looking up towards the apartment building.
Ginny automatically stepped away from her window, and then felt silly for her embarrassment. She could at least wave goodbye. But when she looked out again, Harry had turned away, hurrying to huddle with the rest of his team around what she suspected must be a Portkey. Several trainers stood blocking the way and Ginny could see a number of fans trying to get by, probably wanting to try to sneak onto the Portkey themselves. It wasn't the Arrows' usual method of travel, and Ginny wondered if something had happened to change their schedule. She was already halfway though the thought that she'd just send an owl to Harry later to ask before she stopped, wondering if that sort of thing was now taboo, lest it be misinterpreted.
"Bugger," she said again. She began to pace around her flat. She couldn't begrudge Harry his right to tell her the truth; that he'd kept his feelings hidden for so long without a hint to her couldn't have been easy and yet, he'd done it. It was so Harry. He wouldn't have wanted to make her even the slightest bit uncomfortable, even at the expense of his own needs, and even though she'd been a proper brat to him for much of that time. Thank Merlin they had worked all that out before his confession. Ginny couldn't imagine she would have let herself get close to Harry if she'd known he fancied her.
Then again, Ginny had to admit, it was unlikely that Harry would ever have confessed to fancying her if she hadn't first been comfortable enough with him to sit with him under a blanket on a sofa and hold his hand.
Ginny sighed. Maybe she needed to think about this rationally. She'd start with the facts, not emotions, and go for there. Fact number one: she'd held Harry's hand. Fact number two: holding Harry's hand meant that she . . . ?
That question was nearly enough to get Ginny to summon the bottle of whiskey back to her. Had her holding of his hand been an unconscious sign that she fancied him too, or was it merely a reflection of her comfort at their friendship? And more importantly, how the hell was she going to figure out the difference? It was all already out there; there was no way to examine at her feelings for Harry objectively, knowing what she now knew.
A tap at her window startled her out of her musings. An owl . . . no, two owls were there, a package balanced between them. For a wild second Ginny wondered if Harry had sent her something, maybe a gift to reiterate his feelings for her, or maybe a peace offering to smooth over his revelation. A moment later she flushed, embarrassed to even have such a thought. She'd just watched Harry leaving with the rest of his team; he certainly wouldn't be thinking about her right now.
She was partly right. The package contained her clean laundry, the laundry that Harry had paid to have professionally washed for her. Looking at the perfectly folded shirts and trousers, Ginny reconsidered her assumption that Harry was just being nice when he'd offered to take care of her laundry. Or when he'd made it possible for her to live in this building for that matter. Sure, he said he'd just wanted Ron to live with him, and that was true, but he very easily could have charged Ron rent and left Ginny to find her own lodging somewhere cheaper.
The thought that Harry might have subtly manipulated Ginny's plans to land her in the same apartment building – on the same floor – as he lived probably should have made her angry. As a rule, Ginny did not like others making decisions for her. But she wasn't angry, and that realization was enough to start her pacing again.
What she needed to figure out was . . . how she was going to figure this out. And she had to do it alone, that much was obvious. Normally, she'd seek out Hermione, or call up Demelza for a long night of girl-talk. She'd recently started getting friendlier with Angelina too; they'd been paired up on several training exercises and Ginny really liked her calm assurance, not to mention the fact that she was able to date George without taking any of his shit.
But Demelza was unreachable, training in secret with the curse-breakers, and Hermione and Angelina were out of the question for obvious reasons. And she certainly couldn't say anything to her mum. It would be entirely unfair to Harry to get her family involved; family dinners would turn into an absolute circus, everyone watching Harry and Ginny for signs they were about to sneak away to shag or something.
Ginny flushed. Shagging? What the hell was wrong with her? Was this where her thoughts were going to go all the time now? She did not want to shag Harry.
Ginny stopped pacing. That was true, at least. Where she stood, at that moment, the thought of doing anything physical with Harry felt . . . not wrong or uncomfortable, but . . . foreign. It felt foreign. It was like a country she'd never visited, had never even considered visiting, but now that she was aware that it might be a place to vacation, she had to do some research before she could decide if she wanted to go.
Well, okay then. That's where she'd start. Ginny had to decide if she had any physical feelings for Harry. Or, more specifically, whether she could have those feelings. Because if not, then there was nothing else to decide. Either she was attracted to Harry or she wasn't.
She flopped back on the sofa. So how exactly was she to figure this out? Didn't attraction usually just happen naturally? And more importantly, was the fact that it hadn't, some sort of sign that Ginny didn't feel that way?"
"That's not fair. We've just gotten to be friends." Ginny spoke out loud without realizing it. But it was true. She wasn't discounting having feelings for Harry ever; if that was the case, she was confident she'd already be wrinkling her nose at the thought of kissing him or more. Or more. Yikes.
The thought didn't disgust her, and she took that as a sign to keep thinking. She sighed. This was getting too clinical. Maybe she should just pull down her trousers, lie down, and see where her thoughts - and her body – took her.
Ginny snorted to herself. Right. That'd be rich. Wanking to the thought of Harry . . . what, playing naked Quidditch or something? That was ridiculous; she wasn't fourteen. But . . . what if she inserted Harry into one of her more recent daydreams, in place of the mostly faceless (but well-built) men than usually marched through her thoughts when she was feeling randy? What could that tell her? Could she even let herself do that? Ginny glanced at her bed. It was actually easier to imagine Harry there than in some crazy fantastical scenario. He'd been there, on her bed when they talked a couple of weeks ago. Had he been thinking of the other things he wanted to do with her on that bed then? He'd given no indication, at least, none that Ginny had noticed. How much effort had that taken?
Ginny sighed. Her thoughts were swirling, but they kept coming back to the same uncertain place. It was clear she wasn't going to make any decision tonight. Maybe the best thing to do would be to try to keep things normal between them.
HPHPHPHPHP
Harry wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when, not ten minutes after leaving Ginny's flat, Dam messaged the team that they were going to depart that night for one of their training facilities. The Arrows captain hadn't been exactly subtle about the fact that two break-ins at the apartment had him spooked, even going so far as to apologize to Harry for urging him to kiss that "pushy Russian witch" several weeks earlier. After skipping two workouts because he'd been attempting – rather unsuccessfully – to add more wards to his flat, Dam had talked to Arrows management and the decision had been made for the team to spend a day practicing at one of their more out-of-the-way practice pitches before Apparating to Tutshill for the next day's match.
Harry had had half a mind to see Ginny in the morning, maybe under the pretext of bringing her some of Ron's coffee, just to establish that he wanted to keep things normal and friendly between them. Now, he wasn't even sure she knew the team had left, and the thought that she may be alone in her flat, ruminating about his admission and maybe coming to a conclusion he wouldn't like, had him pacing restlessly around his small, chilly hotel room.
At least he'd gotten a single. Given the way his thoughts were swirling, if he'd been sharing a room with someone like Adam or Kipling, he wasn't sure he could have kept from blurting out the story of his confession. Hell, he might have even said something to Dam, and then they'd have never heard the end of it. Ginny would have hated that; at the very least, Harry owed her the time and privacy to think about things herself.
But what was she thinking?
The hotel room had a magical mini-bar, and Harry looked longingly at the bottle of Ogden's on its shelf, but refrained. They had a 5:30 am practice in the morning. Convincing himself not to send Ginny an owl or Patronus was more difficult. There was so much he'd left unsaid, so much he still wanted to explain. All he could think about was the look of surprise and uncertainty on Ginny's face when she'd learned Harry's secret. As much as his rational brain knew he couldn't have kept his feelings from her forever, in the back of his mind, Harry had harbored a vision of Ginny coming to her own realization first. They would have laughed about it between kisses, their friendship solidified into more, Ginny making the first move. But try as he might, Harry couldn't convince himself that Ginny's holding his hand was that sort of move. She'd been as surprised as he was, that had been obvious.
Harry flopped face-first onto his bed. This road trip was three days long. What kind of conclusion would Ginny come to, with three days to think?
HPHPHPHP
Ginny wasn't particularly surprised to see a number of senior aurors waiting in the training room the following morning. She'd assumed the matter of the break-in at her building would be a topic of discussion eventually. At least there had been no Prophet articles this time. She stifled a yawn, hoping she wouldn't be asked too many difficult questions. It had been well after midnight before her thoughts finally calmed enough to let her sleep, and only after she'd finally come to the decision to try consciously keeping her thoughts away from Harry as much as possible. Their road trip was three days long; maybe three days of not thinking about Harry would make it easier to get some clarity when he returned. She took a sip of her coffee and grimaced. Ron had overslept and the mediocre coffee from the Auror kitchen she'd had to get instead tasted rather like pond water.
Camilla Stalk didn't seem concerned by Ginny's drowsiness. "Miss Weasley," she said briskly as soon as all the trainees were seated, "can you please tell the class how you knew the intruder to your building was an imposter? What clues did you find, and how did you use your Auror training to neutralize the threat?"
When Ginny opened her mouth to speak, Camilla shook her head and gestured next to her. "Up here, please. So everyone can hear you."
Ginny felt Ron's light touch of encouragement on her arm as she walked by; he was drinking bad coffee too, she noted. She didn't catch his eye, worried that he'd be able to tell something from her expression. Ron had become a lot more astute about those things since he'd started dating Hermione; Ginny could only hope that the fact that Harry had kept his feelings hidden from his best friend for so long meant that Ron would remain completely in the dark.
She faced the class. "Umm, the reason I suspected that Zoya – although I couldn't tell she was Zoya, she was transfigured at the time - umm, but the reason was that she told me that she was there to pick up . . . H-harry's laundry. And umm, I knew that he didn't send it out; he does it himself." She hoped no one had noticed that she'd tripped over his name, it was bad enough that she knew intimate details about Harry's laundry habits. So much for not thinking about him. She looked at her chair, wondering if she could be done.
"And Harry was there, wasn't he? Did he suspect too?" Copernicus had clearly gotten himself caught up on the details of Zoya's capture. He had a slightly eager look on his face, and Ginny suspected he was disappointed not to have been involved. Ginny nodded stiffly.
"Harry and Zoya came into the laundry room together while I was there. I could tell he already knew she was up to no good." Ginny regretted her words almost immediately. Next to her, Camilla lifted her eyebrows, but it was Shephard Kane, who up to now had been observing, who spoke.
"Immediately? How? Do you and Mr. Potter know how to engage in silent communication? Has he taught you some of what he learned from the Aurors?"
Ginny shook her head. "No, nothing like that," she said quickly. Ron caught her eye and Angelina gave her a sympathetic grimace. They understood. But Parvati's expression was animated in the way Ginny knew she reserved for juicy celebrity gossip, and Copernicus had a rather calculating look on his face. Ginny hastened to explain.
"It's just that I've known Harry a long time," she said. "He taught me in the DA and I know he's always on the lookout for anything suspicious." She gestured around the room. "I'm sure Ernie or Ron or Parvati would have figured out what he was thinking too."
"Maybe, maybe not," said Kane. "They don't have quite the connection you and Mr. Potter have, do they?"
Ginny sighed. They were back to the Chamber again. Hell, if all she needed as proof she and Harry belonged together was to rely on was the fact that he had once saved her life, she'd have jumped into bed with him already. She flushed. Stop thinking about shagging, she silently lectured herself. Especially around people who know Legilimency. Careful to not look anyone in the eye, she muttered "are there any other questions?" to the room.
"Oh, I'm sure there are, but I just got notice that we need to start your independent field exercises." Camilla was consulting a magical clipboard. There was an excited murmuring around the room; getting to go out on official Auror business alone was something they'd all looked forwards to. It didn't matter that it was all mostly busywork, missions concocted solely for the purpose of testing the trainees. It was still progress.
Ginny sat down, relieved to be done for now. The thought of being able to do something even somewhat useful as an Auror, without having to tag along with someone more senior, was more than a little enticing. Despite her protests to the contrary, Ginny knew they treated her differently, that it hadn't been random chance that she'd been the only one without a trainee partner on their last exercise, and sent out with Robards instead. But now she could be alone, and make her own decisions and observations, just like the other trainees. Their assignments were carefully planned out; Ginny was unlikely to run into any maniacal fans or be asked to question children about their parents' loyalties.
She listened distractedly as Camilla gave out assignments, sending Ron to an owl-post to look into patterns in how certain customers selected birds for deliveries and Copernicus to Gringotts to interview a Goblin about newly opened vaults. All of the assignments were similar, aimed mostly at collecting data that the trainees would practice analyzing for anything suspicious. Ginny didn't know how much useful information they would get, but at least she understood that not all Auror work would be dramatic raids on dens of dark wizards. By the somewhat disdainful look on Copernicus' face, Ginny suspected that he'd rather hoped to be given a task that would have required stealth and cunning and possibly some of the hexes they'd been learning.
"Ginny, you'll be going to . . ." Camilla broke off and frowned at her notes. Ginny saw her shoot a quick glance to where Robards and Shepard Kane were standing, but both men just looked back at her blandly. After another moment, Camilla shrugged.
"Ginny, you'll be going to the Arrows' northern training facility to evaluate the safety of the wards there. After what's been happening at Incantation Court, team management wants to make doubly sure there's no way for someone unauthorized to gain access to the other locations where the team congregates." The woman spoke with her trademark briskness, boding no argument.
Ginny stuttered in surprise. "But . . . that's not really the job for a trainee, is it?" She knew it wasn't; evaluating and setting wards was a job for experienced curse breakers. Her brother Bill regularly consulted on security for Quidditch teams.
Camilla turned her body slightly and gave Ginny a knowing look, out of the line of sight of the other senior Aurors. "Of course you're right," she said slowly. "The wards are set and maintained by professionals. But the team has been kind enough to allow one of our trainees access to the area for practice. Since you've played Quidditch and live in the building with the Arrows and have already been subject to background security checks, it makes sense to have you take that assignment.
Ginny refrained from mentioning that Ron also played Quidditch and had been subject to the same background checks; she knew that didn't matter. "Am I still to go alone, like everyone else?" she asked carefully.
Camilla gave her a knowing look. "Yes, of course," she said. "You'll be meeting with the Arrows' head of security, a man named Henrik Burly. He'll show you around."
Ginny nodded. "I know him, thank you," she said. Henrik Burly was a step up from the Arrows' typical security force, which was probably why he'd been put in charge. She didn't think he had anything to do with the setting of the wards, but she supposed that didn't matter for this training exercise. Bill could answer any outlying questions she might have. In the meantime, it looked like she might be seeing Harry again sooner than she expected.
HPHPHPHPHP
Harry huffed out another breath of air as he contemplated the next set of steps. This was one of Dam's favorite training activities; having the entire team – regular players and reserves – run up and down all the steps in their main stadium. It built stamina and character, he said, and made them all do it at least once a week. Harry didn't complain the way some of his teammates did. For one, Dam himself ran right along with them; usually beating most of them. And Harry couldn't deny that all the off-broom training had made him that much stronger – and better – when he was flying. He'd been working out even more in the months since he and Ginny had become friends, and his youthful crush had morphed into something more tangible, something that needed to be hidden. He'd upped his workouts as a way to use up excess energy these days, and was exercising more than Dam expected them to, actually.
He was sweating and his legs burned, but in a good way. Glancing back, he couldn't help but feel sympathy for teammate Adam Ramsey. The blonde Chaser didn't like running steps on a good day, and the late night Portkey to the Arrows' northern facility wasn't doing him any favors; he was dragging.
Harry shook his head to himself as he started up the next flight of stairs. Pushing himself physically could only distract his thoughts for so long, but he didn't know what else to do. It had been bad enough before, but after confessing his feelings to Ginny, his normal nighttime activity – wanking to thoughts of her – felt wrong. Just the thought that she might now assume that's what he was doing made him flush - could he ever look at her in the face again? Not for the first time, he wondered if he'd done the right thing, telling her. Dam wouldn't have hesitated, he knew. But Dam was perfectly happy with his one-night stands, as far as Harry could tell; the captain neither had nor wanted any female friends at all. Not that Harry hadn't learned to enjoy going out and having fun – being an Arrow practically demanded it sometimes. But as much as his teammates ribbed him, Harry still preferred joking around with friends over trying to conquer a new witch each night; anything beyond mild flirting with any of the hoards of fans that seemed to hang around the team had never held any interest for him. He'd just never let himself admit how closely his disinterest in anyone else was tied to his feelings for Ginny.
The sound of a whistle pulled Harry out of his thoughts. Dam was calling them all down to talk before they started their in-air drills. Harry hopped down the stairs, neatly leaping over Adam, who had finally reached the top and was now lying down, groaning slightly at the thought of having to descend.
"Better get your arse down there," he said lightly to his teammate. "You don't want Dam coming up here to get you." Adam was a little notorious for not liking to exercise, and Dam would only look the other way for so long.
Adam hauled himself to his feet. ""I've got to start working out more," he muttered to Harry as they began walking slowly down. "I'll swear on an entire bottle of Firewhisky."
Harry snorted. They'd all heard that from Adam before. His oaths tended to last three days, tops.
"But what about you?" Adam asked, giving Harry an openly curious look. "You've been working out double time lately." He waggled his eyebrows. "Any chance it's for a particular witch?"
"Ginny and I are just friends," said Harry quickly. A second later, he mentally kicked himself. Adam had no idea; he'd just been asking if Harry was interested in anyone specific, not that he had someone in mind.
But Adam didn't seem to realize the significance of Harry's comment. "Too bad, she's bloody gorgeous," he said amiably as they descended. "I think Kipling has a crush on her, but he's too shy to say anything." He looked curiously at Harry. "But when did the two of you become friends? You always seemed to be sniping at each other when she first moved in."
Adam's comment reminded Harry suddenly of Luna, and her oddly astute way of realizing things even while her head was otherwise in the clouds. He shrugged. "I've known her since I was eleven, and I think we both needed to grow up a bit," he said. "It took us a while, to become friends, I mean. But it's better now that we are, you know?"
Adam nodded. "It's always better to be friends," he agreed. He chuckled. "Dam would like to be more than friends with her, I think."
Harry tripped over a step and stubbed his toe. "Shit," he muttered. He tried to make his voice casual. "I thought Ginny and Dam was just that one time thing?" he said. Adam was Dam's flatmate, and it occurred to Harry that Adam might know something extra. "Or have they gotten together since?" He didn't think so; Ginny would have said something to him, wouldn't she? A day ago, Harry would have been sure of it. Now everything was in flux. But Dam would have said something, he consoled himself. He'd not have been able to keep that a secret. There's no way Ginny and Dam did anything but kiss that one time.
Adam confirmed that. "I guess she's quite the kisser," he chuckled. "Dam's mentioned a couple of times that he wouldn't mind a second round." He looked sideways at Harry. "Probably not around you though, seeing as her brother is your best mate. You're practically a brother yourself then, aren't you?" His voice was teasing, but there was no malice in it; he had no idea. For that reason Harry tried to control his response.
"I don't see her as her brother, not at all." He couldn't completely keep the petulance out of his voice. "We're friends now, good friends."
Adam chuckled again. "And what does Ginny think?"
Thankfully, they reached the bottom of the stairs then and Harry was saved from answering.
His mind half on the thought of whether Ginny would want to kiss Dam again – despite her having told Harry that she had no interest in the captain – Harry wasn't paying much attention to the additional people huddled with the team. It was only when Adam said "well, speak of the devil," that Harry looked up. He swallowed hard. How could he have missed her?
HPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Ginny had Apparated to the outside of the Arrows' northern training complex iafter Camilla finished handing out assignments. Technically, she was only there to observe the wards that already existed (thanks to Bill), but she knew she hadn't missed the look on Camilla's face when she'd seen Ginny's assignment, nor had she imagined the woman's quiet we need to talk, later whispered low near Ginny's ear when she'd leaned in on the pretense of giving Ginny the proper address for Apparition. Something was going on, and Camilla didn't want Robards or Kane in on the conversation.
Ginny had nodded back, barely showing she acknowledged the command, and Apparated to the training site, her mind already on her assignment. Ginny found Henrik Burly easily, and half-listened as he described the layout of their training pitches. The other half of her attention was captured by the sight she viewed though the Muggle-style binoculars she'd brought with her. They had been modified quite a bit by magic, of course.
As she panned across the fields, Ginny's attention was captured by the small figures running up and down the stadium steps. It took no more than a minute for her to locate Harry; she didn't even need to see the name "Potter" stitched across his back to recognize his stature and the way he moved in fluid, tight motion up the steps. He hardly seemed winded, and Ginny remembered Ron saying that from his first day on the team, Harry had taken his position seriously, pushing himself in his training, his practices, and the way he poured over his playbooks, lest anyone suggest he'd only gotten the position because of his fame. He'd known he was to be hazed by the more experienced members and Harry hadn't wanted to give them any extra ammunition.
Watching him, even with her new knowledge of his feelings for her, Ginny couldn't help but grin. Harry certainly been able to prove himself quickly; there was no question now that he was the best Seeker the team had ever had, one of the best in the league, even. She'd even started to hear rumblings of him making the National Squad for England in a year or two, although Ginny was quite certain that kind of position held no interest for Harry. He'd never want the attention.
But now, Ginny found it rather hard to pull her attention away. He'd pulled off his shirt at some point, and the taut muscles across his back gleamed with sweat.
She shook her head to clear it. Focus, she scolded herself. You're here as an Auror trainee, not a fan. Unspoken was the thought that came unbidden anyway. She shouldn't be thinking about Harry in any way that wasn't strictly professional, or friendly at most. As contrived as her assignment might be, she was still there to evaluate the wards. But she couldn't deny that the longer she watched Harry run, the harder it was to pull her gaze away. He reached the top of the last set of steps, and she watched as he stepped nimbly over the prone figure of who turned out to be Adam Ramsey. The two seemed rather deep in conversation as they descended; through her binoculars, Ginny could see Harry flush at one point, and she wondered at the cause. His abs were well-defined, she noted with idle interest. She made a mental note to ask him about his training regimen.
An odd tingle coursed through her, and she forced her attention back to the head of security. He'd levitated a couple of maps in front of her to point out the locations of the wards, when Dam's lively voice cut through Burly's drone.
"Well, well, if the Aurors didn't send us their most attractive trainee. What's your job, Ginny, going to stop yet another fan-witch from sneaking up on us?"
"Fortunately for you, the Bellows seem to have run out of sisters," joked Ginny. She had no doubts anymore how to handle Dam. "I'm supposed to be evaluating the wards around the stadium, but honestly, I think I'll have more to critique when I see how you all fly. You got flattened by Wimbourne last week, didn't you?"
Dam groaned. "Don't remind me. Wilder got practically knocked off his broom and his arm still isn't back to normal." Dam looked at the Chaser. "What did the trainer say?"
Wilder shrugged. "I'm grounded for practice; they want to try a new healing spell to clear up the stiffness."
Dam groaned. "And Caleb's out for his kid's birthday," he said, naming the Arrow's reserve Chaser. "So we're down a body." His eyes settled on Ginny. "Or maybe not," he said slowly. "Your body would work just fine. You played Chaser, didn't you?"
Before Ginny could come up with a smart retort, Dam had turned to Harry. "Potter, how's Weasley on a broom? We need a Chaser for practice; think she'd do?"
Harry's eyes flicked to hers; Ginny couldn't read their expression. He swallowed and then nodded. "She's excellent on a broom," he said carefully. He looked away. "I'd grab one of the newest Solar Flares; they're the closest to the Comet she flew in school. Much easier to control, of course." His eyes flicked to her again. "Do you think you can handle one? They have quite a bit more power than you're used to."
Ginny sucked in a breath. She'd flown a Solar Flare once, during the day she'd visited the Holyhead Harpies for a tryout. The ease and power of the broom had almost made Ginny reconsider Gwenog's offer to become a Harpy reserve Chaser; she'd never flown anything so enjoyable. The Aurors' brooms tended to be stodgy older models, something Ron complained about on a regular basis. She nodded. "I think I can manage," she said lightly. She couldn't bring herself to look at Harry. He still wasn't wearing a shirt and she told herself she was just being modest; even she didn't believe that lie.
"I'll need to fly the perimeter at some point to view the wards," she said. She easily caught the broom Dam tossed to her and straddled it, grinning at the hum of power between her legs. She caught Harry's eye and found him grinning back.
"Feels like nothing else, does it?" he asked, kicking off on his Firebolt; he'd never flown another brand since his third year at Hogwarts. Dam watched him take off and then smirked at Ginny.
"I can think of something else that feels equally good between your legs," he said. "Not that Harry seems to know. That bloke really needs another pub night and then a good shag."
This was the third time since Harry's confession that the topic of shagging him had come up. Ginny tried to avoid the thoughts that were creeping into her head and kicked off the ground without answering Dam. There was nothing at all she could say without incriminating either Harry . . . or herself.
The ended up playing a modified version of a real Quidditch match, expanding the playing pitch so that Ginny could fly around the perimeter and check the wards. They were perfect, of course, shimmering so faintly that if she hadn't known they were there, she wouldn't have noticed them. But they were similar to the wards Bill had set up at the Burrow, so Ginny was quickly able to catalogue them for their protective abilities and recognize two spots where branches of an overhanging tree might call for additional attention.
And all the time, she was flying like the wind on the Solar Flare, passing the Quaffle effortlessly back and forth with the other Chasers and trying – and usually failing – to keep her eyes off of Harry as he darted in and out of the melee. Dam hadn't even released the Snitch; Harry was mostly goofing off, trying to interfere with the other players by calling them names and crossing their paths at inopportune times, forcing them off course. He didn't tease Ginny, but once, when he veered his broom close to her and knocked the Quaffle away from her reach, she caught his eye. He'd put on an older Gryffindor practice jersey, she noticed, and for a minute she felt fourteen again, thinking he was about to raise his hand in triumph at having caught the Snitch to beat Slytherin or Ravenclaw.
They stared at each other for a long moment, and Ginny saw Harry's mouth open and then close, as if he wanted to say something. A piece of hair flopped into his face and Ginny's hand was halfway towards pushing it aside before she stopped herself and pulled back. He followed the movement and she saw his lips tighten.
"I'm sorry," he said roughly. Below them, the other Chasers were yelling for the Quaffle. Ginny tossed it to Adam and then turned back to Harry. She shook her head.
"Don't be," she said, equally roughly. "You did the right thing. I just . . ."
"Look sharp, Weasley!" A Bludger came out of nowhere and she had to swerve on her broom to avoid it. By the time she regained her balance, Harry had flown to the other side of the pitch to taunt Dam. She thought she saw him looking at her a couple more times, each accompanied with the same odd swoop in her stomach. She pushed all thoughts out of her head; this was not the time or place to think about it.
Despite the tension with Harry, Ginny couldn't remember the last time she'd had so much fun. When they finally all landed, windblown and sweaty, Ginny almost felt ready to take Dam up on his offer to come out drinking later with the team. Without really thinking about it, she let herself be gathered up in the team huddle Dam organized, a ritual the others were obviously familiar with. Ginny couldn't follow the rapid rhyming cheer they all shouted, but it didn't really matter. The camaraderie of the group reminded her a being with her brothers, and she felt entirely comfortable joking and pushing and knocking hips as they all jockeyed to stay on their feet.
"Drinks later, Weasley?" Dam asked again.
Reluctantly, she shook her head.
"I have to write up my report on the wards and work tomorrow," she said. She raised her eyebrows at the Arrows' captain. "You know, real work. None of this lolling around on brooms or anything."
Dam threw back his head and laughed. "Give me a broom any day," he said. "None of this cloak and dagger stuff you Aurors get into." He looked at Harry. "I don't know how you stood it for as long as you did, being alone like you were." He cuffed Harry on the arm. "Now if you'd had someone like Ginny for a partner, maybe we'd never had convinced you to come play for us."
While Harry shrugged sheepishly, it did not escape Ginny's notice that Dam seemed to know more about the year Harrry had spent with the Aurors than Ginny would have thought. She knew he'd been off on special assignments some of the time, but had never really translated that into the fact that he'd been alone. She looked at him, and after a second, he met her gaze. She smiled, and after a second, he gave her a small smile back.
"I don't blame him for wanting to play with you lot, crazy as you may be," Ginny said with a grin. It was taking a lot of effort to keep things light, but she didn't think anyone could hear the catch in her voice. She only hoped they'd think the flush on her cheeks was from the wind.
There wasn't much else for Ginny to do and she didn't want to seem obvious by hanging around any longer. When one of the trainers came out of a nearby building to ask Harry if he was ready for his post workout massage, Ginny said a hasty goodbye and gathered up the parchment maps Henrik Burly had given her.
She wasn't quick enough. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw Harry pull his jersey over his head and toss it into a laundry bin before turning towards her.
"See you later, Ginny," he said casually.
She nodded. "Friday, right? That's when you're back?"
Dam's chuckle interrupted. "You know our schedule better than I do," he said. He turned to Harry. "Potter, get your arse in the shower and then onto the massage table. I'm on the schedule after you and I don't want to wait." He looked at the rest of the team. "Everyone else can take a break at the hotel."
"Right then," said Ginny. She took a couple of steps backwards. "I'll just. . ." she gestured towards the Apparition point. "Umm, see you." She whirled away, not waiting to see if anyone said anything else.
Ginny Apparated home in something of a daze. The sweat had dried on her skin and she needed a shower, but she ignored her bathroom and instead fell onto her bed, still fully clothed. She closed her eyes, remembering the huddle, and the weight of Harry's arm around her shoulders and the pressure of his hip against hers. She wasn't even sure if she'd ended up next to him on accident, or if one of the two of them had arranged themselves that way. Her jumper smelled like Harry and Ginny didn't even have to think before slipping her hand into her trousers and finding the spot between her legs.
The image came to her almost immediately aided, no doubt, by Harry's current activity. He was lying his stomach on a massage table covered by nothing more than a small towel. But instead of the matronly trainer with arms like hams who worked for the team, Ginny imagined herself, naked, climbing up to straddle Harry's bum and run her hands down his sides. On the bed, her fingers swirled and dipped while in her mind, Harry rolled over onto his back and the towel fell away. He gave her a lazy smile.
"Figuring things out there, Ginny?" He reached forward and touched her. "You're so wet, Ginny," he said in a voice that was both husky with desire and still full of the boyish wonder of someone who'd never done this before. Ginny shivered. Harry propped himself up on his elbows until his erect penis tickled Ginny in the very place her fingers were now moving.
"It's better if I do it," he said.
Ginny let her head fall back on her pillow. She closed her eyes and imagined it was Harry's fingers parting her folds, tickling inside her thighs, and finally finding her clitoris. He thrust against her, lightly as first, and then, as she opened her legs, Harry moved to cover her completely. Ginny grabbed at his waist and then his bum, feeling the muscles she'd glimpsed when he was running. Her fingers moved faster.
"One day, I'll be inside you for real," Harry whispered, and Ginny climaxed, arching her back and pushing her hand against her skin to try to draw out the sensation.
She came back to herself slowly, reluctantly pulling her hand out of her knickers and rolling onto her side. She'd never brought herself to orgasm so quickly before, and the thought was both arousing and unnerving.
"That's one thing sorted, I guess," she finally said to herself. She was still tingling with the imagined thought of Harry's eyes on her naked body. She tried to be embarrassed but just couldn't muster the emotion. Harry, even in her imagination, had been glorious.
Fairly, she considered the fact that he might have had similar thoughts about her. It wouldn't be fair to get upset about it.
But this all presented a dilemma. Ginny had no doubt now that she was physically attracted to Harry; indeed, she was already considering whether a shower would be a long enough time to get her body ready for another go. But physical attraction did not automatically mean an emotional one. Yes, she and Harry were friends, but did she want more? And more importantly, could she figure it out while her body was screaming for physical contact? The last thing she wanted would be to start something purely physical with Harry before she knew how she felt about everything else. It would be supremely unfair to him. To her as well, but given the way she was feeling right now, she thought she wouldn't mind a night or two of unfairness.
That thought was enough to get Ginny to push herself off the bed. She would absolutely not let Harry know anything, or see anything of her attraction unless and until she knew it was more than her randy body needing some action. For she was certain that nothing would ruin their friendship faster than jumping into bed with him without knowing what it meant to them both.
Ginny stripped off her sweaty clothes and sighed. Despite the day's realization, she still felt no closer to figuring out exactly how to answer Harry's confession. It was gong to be doubly hard to be around him now; she was sure her body was going to give something away. At least she wasn't a bloke.
I'll just have to work harder to keep things normal between us. Grabbing a towel, Ginny headed to her shower, already wondering to herself if Harry was now in one himself, and what he might be doing there.
A/N: Can we all say "Finally"? Obviously, there's a lot more to write, but I promised someone (ahem, you know who you are) this last scene almost from the second I began this story, and it's been delicious torture trying to get Ginny to this point. Also, I had a lot of fun with the training camp scene; I hope that at least some of you recognized the parallels (and in some places blatant copying) to where it came from.