A/N: This chapter some bits that are plot and some bits that are . . . not. The final scene has been a long time coming and is dedicated to Deadwoodpecker, for whom I promised some SPF months ago, in exchange for her writing a particular scene in The Peverell Dilemma What is SPF, you ask? Well, the S is for "Semi" and the P is for "Public". I'll let you figure out the rest. Thanks to all the cheerleaders in the Ginny Lovers discord server too.

Tuesday morning the trainees learned there was to be more fieldwork that day. Ginny didn't even bother to act surprised when she was assigned to go out with Robards alone. More interesting was the silent conversation that seemed to be occurring between the head Auror and Camilla. It was subtle, but Ginny had a lot of experience recognizing when two people were communicating with looks and gestures. Fred and George had practically perfected the talent, and everyone in Ginny's family knew to be on especially careful watch whenever the twins grew silent and simply looked at each other. The quirk of a single eyebrow could speak volumes.

This time, Ginny couldn't tell what Robards and Camilla were communicating, but by the number of times Camilla's eyes flicked across the room to Shephard Kane, she got the impression that he might have been on the outs with the other two.

But possibly doesn't even realize it. Indeed, Kane was seemingly engrossed in conversation with Copernicus and didn't glance at Camilla, Robards – or Ginny – even once.

Ginny rather wished she'd been paired with the female Auror. Somehow, she didn't get the impression that Camilla cared nearly as much about what might possibly be gleaned from Ginny's experience in the Chamber. And she'd never once mentioned Harry.

"What do you think that was all about?" Ron was suddenly at Ginny's ear. He nodded subtly across the room.

Ginny leaned in and pretended to refill Ron's coffee. "You noticed?" Ginny wasn't surprised. He'd grown up with Fred and George too, after all.

Ron shrugged. "I'm going out with Camilla and Lee and Angelina. I'll let you know if she says anything. Although she probably won't." He brightened. "We're going to question people in Knockturn Alley. I love it there."

"That's because we were never allowed when we were kids." Ginny frowned. "I wish just once I could go out with some of the other trainees."

Ron gave her a sympathetic grimace. "Hopefully they'll get bored soon enough and realize you're more useful as an ordinary Auror, as opposed to someone who once had a written conversation with Tom Riddle when she was eleven."

Ginny chuckled. "Thanks Ron. And how do you describe Harry's experience?"

Ron thought a moment. "An unnaturally close, mindful relationship?"

Ginny laughed. "You make it sound like they dated, but didn't want anyone to know."

Ron shuddered. "Could you imagine dating him, or even trying to figure out his type? Voldemort I mean, not Harry."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I know what you meant."

Ron continued as if he hadn't heard her. "Although, trying to figure out Harry's type is almost as difficult. Hermione's made it one of her projects. You know, to find him someone." He grinned. "I told her that whoever she is, I get first approval rights. Otherwise, Hermione's likely to find some perfectly nice but overly intelligent witch from someplace like the Department of Mysteries who knows nothing about Quiditch and who'll bore us all to death on double dates talking about her work."

Ginny stifled a snort. "You mean like when Hermione tried to get us all to understand the legislation she's crafting to regulate the standards for magical home-schooling?"

Ron shrugged good-naturedly. "That's different. It's kind of sexy when she does it."

"Not for the rest of us," muttered Ginny.

"Well anyway, as Harry's best mate, I think I should have a say in who he dates." He gave Ginny a thoughtful look. "Although you've gotten to know him better lately, haven't you?"

Ginny's stomach swooped. "Umm, I guess so?" She cringed at the way her voice went up at the end.

Ron didn't notice. He nodded. "Yeah. So maybe you can figure out someone to set him up with." He looked around the training room. "None of them, I don't think. But what about . . . one of the Harpies? That new one's kind of cute."

"She's in a relationship," said Ginny quickly. "I read it in Witch Weekly. Anyway, I think Harry's the type who need to . . . figure this out himself."

"He's doing a poor job of it so far," said Ron bluntly. "Bloke needs some action."

Ginny bit her lip, and for the first time, was relieved when Robards appeared at her elbow. "Ready to go, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny nodded and followed him out of the room, but was surprised when, instead of taking a lift to the Atrium so they could either Apparate or Floo out of the Ministry, Robards pressed the button for the Fifth level.

"Department of International Magic Cooperation, sir?" Ginny asked.

Robards was reading a memo that had flown into the lift after them. He nodded distractedly. "Going to talk to Hermione Granger," he said. He crumpled the memo and looked down at Ginny. "You know her?"

"Very well," said Ginny. "She's dating my brother Ron."

"That's right," said Robards. Another memo fluttered around his head and he grabbed it but didn't open it. "She's also doing some very interesting research on international education standards that I'd like to talk to her about."

Ginny stared at her boss. "The legislation on home schooling?"

Robards nodded approvingly. "You're already familiar with it, then?"

Ginny nodded back and tried not to groan. She knew Hermione's work on developing international standards for wizard parents to follow when they taught their children at home was important. And she was delighted that her friend loved her work so much. But unlike her brother Ron, Ginny didn't find it even remotely sexy to listen to Hermione prattle on about the difficulties of getting some parents to understand the importance of learning about defense against the dark arts, and not those arts themselves. There'd been an Arrows game on the wireless that last time Hermione had started discussing her work, and Ginny had had to sit on her hands to keep herself from turning it loud enough to drown out Hermione's voice. After half an hour she'd finally faked a headache and left for her own flat where she could listen in peace.

"Well then, that will save some time explaining," said Robards. He walked into the section of offices and cubicles dedicated to international legal communication and cooperation. Hermione waved at them from a table across the room. She and two co-workers were bent over what looked like an enormous map of Europe with various glowing spots on it. Ginny vaguely remembered seeing something similar in Shepard Kane's office, and she frowned, trying to remember if Hermione'd ever mentioned working with him.

She'd have to ask later, because Robards was already deep in conversation with Hermione. ". . . looks much better than last time. So you've gotten some of the provincial areas to agree?"

Hermione nodded. "The legislation should pass with no trouble, and other than here, and here" – she pointed to two particularly bright spots on the map – "I think we can count on authorities to ensure compliance."

"Excuse me, but compliance with what, exactly?" asked Ginny.

Robards waved at the map. "Compliance with the legislation on homeschooling that Miss Granger and her team have been working tirelessly on," he said. "I've long been concerned that young wizards and witches who aren't taught a varied and thoughtful magical curriculum are more at risk for turning to the Dark Arts later in life. They may not even realize until it's too late that they are being seduced by dark magic. And in some cases, the magic they have learned at home, even if not dark itself, is not robust enough to give them the skills to fight it." The Auror grimaced. "Regulation of home school curriculum has been so lax that even young wizards whose parents have the best of intentions aren't being taught proper magic. And young wizards who don't know magic grow up to be adult wizards who don't know magic. Mistakes can turn evil, even when not intended."

Ginny had never considered it that way. "I guess I thought that most parents who homeschooled did so for the express purpose of teaching their children Dark Magic without Ministry oversight."

Robards nodded. "There are some of those, yes. But uncovering home education of truly Dark Magic is actually the easiest to find and track. It leaves certain signatures that are easy to trace. And the families most likely to try to train their children in the Dark Arts are well known to us already." He leaned over the map. "Some of the smaller areas that light up are those families. I'm sure it's not a surprise to see how many of them are located in the wealthier areas."

Ginny nodded, recognizing the small patch of light around the village she knew was closest to Malfoy Manor. "But when I helped at that training camp," she began, looking for the spot on the map and pointing with her wand when she found it. "There. That wasn't a wealthy area at all. Why did you want me to questions those children who didn't like the Arrows?"

Robards looked slightly embarrassed. "Ahh yes, well, some of that might have been contrived as part of the training exercise."

Ginny was oddly relieved to learn that she wasn't exempt from the "make work" the other trainees were doing. But she wanted to take advantage of Robards' apparent willingness to talk. "And Harry? Was he doing contrived work too?"

Now the Auror smiled. "No. Harry's a big reason that this map is not lit up a lot more than it used to be. He's very good at tracking down Dark Magic – purposeful and accidental."

This all sounded rather more legitimate than Ginny's previous interactions with Robards. She pretended to analyze the map while she asked her next question. "And your interest in me and Harry . . . together?" She sincerely hoped that no one – especially Hermione – could hear the catch in her voice.

Robards chuckled. "While I do think there is information to be gleaned from your combined experience with Mr. Potter, I'll admit that I may have been a little . . . heavy handed in my requests at times." He frowned. "There hasn't always been agreement about . . ." he stopped suddenly. "I mean, I won't be giving up on talking to you and Mr. Potter in the same room, Miss Weasley, but I can assure you, your connection to him is not why you're here." He shook his head to himself and then looked Ginny in the eye. "I meant it when I told you that you have excellent instincts for an Auror. And I think you'll be helpful – on your own – talking to families about the importance of either sending their children to wizarding school or adhering to the International curriculum standards for home schooled wizards and witches."

Ginny had more than a little suspicion about where some of the disagreement between the Aurors might lie, but she knew to keep her mouth shut. Still, it was gratifying to realize how seriously Gawain Robards took his work. The way he explained it made the need for international standards of curriculum sound much more interesting than Hermione had. Ginny would be actually meeting with families to talk about what they knew about teaching magic, doing some demonstrations, and keeping an eye out for common hazards that could lead to the performance of unintentional Dark Magic at home. It was real work, and a good way to get experience fighting Dark Magic. Ginny was so pleased about the turn of events that she nearly blurted out that maybe she'd talk to Harry, after all. But at the last minute, she managed to bite back her offer. It wasn't fair to Harry in any event, and she had to remind herself that no one else knew about the two of them. She wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible, and she knew he did too. If Harry showed up at Auror headquarters to be interviewed alongside her, Ginny had no doubt one of them (or both) would give something away. Instead she nodded.

"I'm looking forward to working on this," she said to Robards.

HPHPHP

And then, finally, blessedly, it was Thursday. Ginny had been right that the work was interesting. She'd known, of course, that it was easy for a simple spell or charm to go wrong when the wandwork or incantation wasn't exact – hell, she couldn't remember a single class at Hogwarts when someone didn't blow something up – but she'd never realized how protected the students had been, doing magic in the castle. There had been wards and protective spells cast by the professors, and oversight by people who really knew what they were teaching. In the homeschool world, it was completely different. Ginny had spent two days learning the most common mistakes untrained wizards made with their spellwork, and preparing a demonstration she could show first to her classmates and eventually, to families around Britain. They'd assigned Angelina to work along with her, and the addition of a partner had made everything even more enjoyable. Angelina was not one to hold back when it came to her magic, or her willingness to dish about George, and Ginny found herself laughing more at work than she'd remembered doing in a long time. She felt like a regular trainee, and it was with more than a few nerves that she knocked on a door to a small house in the village of Tinworth for her first interview of a family that had chosen to teach their children at home.

What she hadn't quite anticipated was that Hermione would want a detailed recap of Ginny's day, every evening. She asked questions and gave insights and made suggestions that Ginny had to admit were good, and so she forced herself to pay attention and participate in what ended up being several extra hours of work each night. Ginny couldn't very well say that she needed to go back to her own flat (or on Wednesday, ask Hermione and Ron to leave her flat) so that she could send an owl to Harry or wait for a Patronus from Harry, or . . . touch herself to thoughts of Harry. Indeed, by the time she was finally alone each night, Ginny had been too tired, her thoughts too jumbled, to even find relief that way.

But now it was Thursday, and, listening to the Arrows game on the wireless, Ginny couldn't help but think that Harry was as eager as she was to get to the pub. She didn't know if it was her imagination, but the announcer seemed to mention Harry's activities more than usual, as if he was solely responsible for most of the action in the game. She'd rushed home from work to shower, and now was sitting in Ron and Harry's flat dressed to go out in robes that were slightly more fitted – and shorter – than her what she wore on a normal day off work. She hoped it didn't look too obvious, but they were planning to go to a pub, after all. Ginny crossed her legs impatiently, listening to the announcer describe a score by Adam Ramsey. In her mind, she could see Harry, flying carefully above the melee of the game, totally focused on the hint of gold that wove in and out of the clouds. In and out, Harry would weave too, in and out, around his team. In and out . . . stopping only when he found something important, something he could focus all his attention on. In . . . and out. And then . . .

"He's really upped his game, hasn't he?" Ron's voice was like a wet blanket, thrown over Ginny's thoughts. She forced herself back. "Ha-Harry?"

Ron shook his head. "Ramsey. That's his third goal in the last eight minutes." He cocked his head and looked at Ginny. "Aren't you paying attention?"

Ginny opened her mouth to answer when the noise from the wireless suddenly surged.

"Aaaaand . . . . Potter gets the Snitch! Arrows win!"

Ginny let out a breath she didn't even realized she'd been holding. Ron let out a satisfied yell and pumped his fist into the air, then turned to Hermione, who'd been mostly ignoring the game while she poured over a pile of parchments.

"How much more time do you need before we can leave for the pub?"

Ginny froze, halfway to her feet. She looked back and forth between her brother and his girlfriend. "Don't you think we should leave now?" she asked, just as Hermione shrugged and said "maybe another half-hour?"

Ron ran his hand over Hermione's shoulder. "It's going to take the team a while to get there," he said to Ginny. "You know, showers, press conference, all that. We can go in an hour."

Ginny forced her voice to stay casual. "It's going to get pretty crowded, don't you think? At the pub I mean. I just thought that . . . maybe we'd want to get there early? In case it gets crowded. Or if the umm, Arrows get their earlier than expected."

Ron wrinkled his nose. "But an hour early?" He looked at his girlfriend. "And Hermione still has work to do anyway."

Hermione shrugged and rolled up the parchment she was reading. "I don't mind," she said. "I've done enough." Ginny didn't miss the look she gave Ron. "Maybe Ginny wants to check out the clientele at the pub before it gets too crowded," she said pointedly.

Ginny nodded quickly. "Angelina heard there'd be a lot of single blokes at the pub," she said. "It should be fun."

Ron gave her an odd look. "I thought you said you wanted to get there early in case the Arrows did?"

Damn. "Well yeah, I did," said Ginny. She tried going on the offense. "And that's why I want to get there early – in case there's anyone interesting there, before I get distracted talking to Harry and the others. Because you know if they see me talking to a bloke, they'll just take the mickey."

"So if you find someone interesting to talk to, you're just going to abandon him when the Arrows show up?" Hermione spoke practically and Ginny resisted the urge to groan.

"I just want to go out, okay?" she said, a bit testily. "I've been working hard this week learning all the ways magic can go Dark, and then coming home and talking about it more with the two of you, and yeah, I want to go to a pub and have a drink and talk Quidditch. And if there happens to be a bloke to flirt with for a couple of minutes, all the better. I don't need a lecture about it and I don't need to wait around here for another hour." She grabbed her cloak. "So I'm going to the pub. You can come with me now or come in an hour and, I don't know, have sex in the meantime. I don't care. But given that I'm not currently having sex, I think I'll not wait around." She stomped towards the door.

"Chill out, Ginny, we'll come with you, okay?" Ron spoke in a placating voice Ginny wasn't used to hearing from him. She stopped and turned around, feeling a bit silly. If she wasn't careful, they'd be able to guess the real reason she was eager to get to the pub. She needed to get herself under control – brain and body. Already she could feel heat pooling between her legs just from the thought of finally getting to be alone with Harry. How long were they going to have to stay at the pub? She shook away the thought and gave Ron a sheepish smile.

"Thanks," she said. "It's just been a really long week."

Not surprisingly, the pub was still fairly empty when they arrived, and Ginny was grateful than neither Ron nor Hermione mentioned it. The older woman who served them drinks made it a point to tell them at least three times that she was going off her shift soon, so they'd best close our their tab with her before reopening one with her replacement.

"Someone's eager not to lose their gratuity, don't you think?" asked Ginny, throwing down a few Sickles on the table while Hermione went to the bar to pay their bill. "Probably a good idea not to be too pissed before the Arrows get here anyway."

"Why?" asked Ron. He took the new drink Hermione brought him. "They'll probably do a shot themselves to celebrate their win before they get here. Maybe two." He grinned. "After that big win against Tutshill last month, they were all completely wasted before they even got to the pub. Harry passed out on the sofa in our flat; couldn't even make it to his bed.

Ginny frowned. "I don't remember that."

Ron shrugged. "It was that night you'd gone to the Burrow to help mum with something – cleaning out your closet maybe?" He chuckled. "I think Harry remembered the last time you'd minded him whilst he was drunk; he asked for you. Actually, he slurred something like, 'ash Ginny t' come here, but doan tell 'er I said so."

Ginny swallowed, trying to remember exactly when the Tutshill game had been. Before or after? After his confession, but before she knew how she felt? After she'd realized but before she told him? She was pretty sure it couldn't be later than that; she wouldn't have gone to the Burrow if there was a chance she could see him instead, could see him and . . . "Did he say anything else?" she asked. The heat she'd already noticed got stronger.

Ron took a long pull of his drink. "He was pretty out of it. When I told him you were at the Burrow, he said 'damn' and then kind of passed out."

That didn't tell Ginny anything about the timing, but at least Harry hadn't given anything away. A thought came to her. "Was that when you and Hermione were discussing paint colors for her flat?" Ginny had Floo'ed home from her night at the Burrow and gone straight to Ron and Harry's flat with the basket of food her mother had given her. Ron and Hermione had been discussing – rather loudly – which shade of blue might look best in Hermione's flat, and the air was shimmering with splotches of different hues they each kept shooting out of wands. Harry had been uncharacteristically quiet, which Ginny attributed to his discomfort at having told her how he felt. Aha! Soon after he'd grumpily asked Ron and Hermione why they weren't having this conversation in Hermione's flat, where the walls at issue were located. Ginny hadn't understood the meaning of Ron's cheery "a bit too loud for you?" question nor Harry's response that Ron just bugger off. He'd retreated to his bedroom soon afterwards with only a quick sorry in Ginny's direction. Now she realized, he'd probably been as much hungover as uncomfortable; maybe even more so. She felt an irrational disappointment that she hadn't been able to take care of Harry while he had been drunk – it obviously hadn't made any difference between them – but nonetheless, Ginny felt an odd sense of loss that she hadn't been there. She looked around for a server and finally flagged down a witch who was young enough to have been the older one's daughter.

"A glass of elf-made wine, please," said Ginny. It seemed like a safer choice than anything with Firewhiskey.

"Our special tonight is called 'Mercury's Flare,' it's particularly delicious," said the server. She waved her wand across her tray and a short glass full of fiery liquid appeared. The drink danced and tumbled inside without ever spilling out. "Chase away some of those inhibitions?" she asked. "Before your friends get here?"

"How did you know I'm meeting friends?" asked Ginny. The swirling liquid reminded her of a Pensieve right after memories had been added. It made her think of Harry's Pensieve, and the vials of memories she knew he kept in his room. Would he want her to see them, now? Were there any of her?

"Not hard to guess, dearie, that you didn't plan to come out just to be with the two of them." The server inclined her head across the table, where Ron and Hermione were rather more engrossed in each other than normal. Ron had one of the specials in front of him, Ginny noticed.

"Lowers inhibitions all right," she muttered. "I'll just stick with the wine."

The server shrugged with an it's your loss sort of expression and left. "Wouldn't you two rather be in a room alone somewhere?" asked Ginny.

Ron looked up from where his mouth met Hermione's neck. "Hell yeah, I would," he said. "I really love her." He looked at Hermione. "Did you know that? Did you know I love you?"

Hermione caught Ginny's eye and mouthed sorry before turning back to Ron. "Yes, I know that," she said with an amused smile. She pushed the rest of his drink out of his reach. "But maybe you've had enough for now. You don't want to be so drunk later that you aren't able to . . ." she leaned in and began whispering in Ron's ear. Ron's eyes lit up and he twisted in his seat to face his girlfriend. "Can we get started now?" he asked.

Ginny jumped up. "I'm just going to wait for the team . . . out back," she said. She turned away from the display and headed towards the door that led to the alley behind the pub and the private Apparition point. On the way, she stopped at the bar for her wine, thinking that maybe the server wasn't so far off that Ginny needed something to relax.

The warming charms in the alley eliminated a lot of the winter chill, and Ginny stood comfortably under one of the glowing yellow orbs, sipping wine and letting her thoughts wander to what she was going to be doing later that night. She shivered, but not because of any residual cold. How long would they have to stay at the pub? Without consciously thinking about it, Ginny brushed her hand across her breast, feeling the nipple harden under her shirt. Damn, she just wanted Harry to touch her. The thought itself made her chuckle at its incongruity. Could it really have been just months ago when the words she most associated with Harry Potter was something along the lines of irritating git? She'd wasted so much time with petty jealousy and wrong assumptions, when she could have been getting to know him for real.

She took a sip of wine, considering. Would their relationship have begun sooner? Would she have realized she fancied him without him having to say so first? Ginny felt fairly confident that the answer to both questions was yes. It wasn't even her current feelings that made her so sure. Their lives had become intertwined when she was eleven, and had she – okay, both of them – had understood better what that meant, Ginny believed that the trajectory of their friendship would have been remarkably different. Those months her third year when Ron had been such a git about the Tri-wizard tournament, Ginny could have spent saving Harry from too much Hermione and berating her brother about his actions. Maybe Harry would have asked her to the Yule Ball – as friends, of course – but maybe something would have sparked between them even then. And her fourth year, all those hours spent with the DA, she might have recognized how brilliant he was at defense, and teaching, and rallying them all against Umbridge, instead of spending all that time trying to impress Michael Corner. She might have been the one to recognize what Voldemort was doing to him – putting thoughts into his head. She might have made the connection with what had happened to her, and the Ministry wouldn't have happened. Or fifth year, when she'd joined the Quidditch team, why hadn't she realized how much Harry cared about them all, about her? He'd been balancing so much that year, and all she'd been able to do was berate him about how many practices he set. And they could have been snogging or something instead, and she could have listened to his concerns about Malfoy and comforted him when Dumbledore was killed.

A raucous couple appeared at the Appariation point – two wizards who seemed oblivious to anything apart from getting inside the other's robes as quickly as possible. Ginny stepped quickly aside to let them to their ministrations of each other, inadvertently stepping out of the protection of the warming charms in the process. The sudden cold cleared her head and she put down her wine on a window ledge and wrapped her arms around herself, grinning ruefully. Look at her, inventing any way possible to rearrange her and Harry's entire history. Hell, she wasn't merely trying to get them together earlier, she was revising his entire years-long fight against Voldemort! Next she probably would have sent herself along on the Horcrux hunt too. She shook her head to herself and looked across the alleyway. One of the wizards noticed her and, smiling sheepishly, straightened his partner's shirt before tugging him through the door and into the pub.

But the interruption made her next thoughts more rational. To be fair, maybe she and Harry would have just become good friends, the way he felt about Hermione. Maybe. But Ginny didn't think so. For a wild moment, she thought about what Kane had told her, that there were potions that could help read someone's unconscious memories. As distasteful as the idea was to Ginny of someone looking at her hidden memories of the Chamber, she wondered what her subconscious might have been thinking about Harry, all those years. Had she really been as annoyed by him as she'd always assumed, or did the annoyance merely mask attraction? Not that she'd ever try to find out, of course; she still didn't trust the idea of the potion Kane described. But thinking about Harry was another matter.

A series of loud pops broke her out of her reverie. Ron had been right; by the inartful way the Arrows arrived at the pub, it was clear they'd enjoyed a drink – or two – at the stadium first. They'd showered too, and Ginny's senses were suddenly assaulted with a mix of colognes and after-shave. She looked around, trying to sense the clean, woodsy smell of the shampoo her mum brewed for everyone except Ginny.

"Oho! Look who's here!" Dam sounded like he'd had at least three shots of whiskey before Apparating. He stumbled into Ginny and she instinctively put her hands on his chest. He threw an arm around her shoulders. "Are you the welcoming committee?"

Through the crowd of players, Ginny finally caught sight of Harry. He was standing a little way towards the back of the alley, looking freshly showered and more alert than most of his teammates. Their eyes met, and Ginny saw him swallow hard.

"It's hot in the pub," said Ginny in the direction of Dam's chest. She was still watching Harry. "I needed some air." Now that he was here in front of her, after nearly a week apart, Ginny was more aware than ever of her need to just be near him. Yes, the need was part physical, but even more was something else. It was taking almost all her effort to stay there next to Dam and she tried to come up with a pretense to walk further down the alley. She knew they'd only have a moment; once they all got inside the pub, they both knew they'd have roles to play. She might talk to him, even sit close enough to touch, but that was it.

Next to her, Dam was rounding up the team.

"Hot maybe, but that's where the drinks are! What's your poison tonight, Weasley?" Not surprisingly, Dam was in a celebratory mood.

Ginny remembered. "My wine," she said, looking down the alley. "I left it . . ."

"Is this it?" Harry finished. He was holding up her half full glass from the window sill she'd put it on.

Ginny walked over to him. "Thank you," she said. She took the glass and shivered when their fingers touched. "I forgot where I'd put it."

"Well I'm glad you remembered," he said quietly. There were small droplets of water on the ends of his hair; he must not have taken much time with drying charms. One dripped onto his shoulder and Ginny had to stop herself from reaching up to brush it away. She was standing too close, probably, for someone who merely needed to retrieve her wine, but she didn't care. Harry hadn't taken his eyes away from hers. Hopefully the rest of the team was too eager to get inside to start drinking to notice.

Indeed, the pub door was already open and Dam was ushering everyone inside. "Coming, Potter?" he said.

Harry turned half away and grinned at the Keeper. "I'll keep Weasley company until she's cooled off enough to join us inside." He waved his wand at her glass and the wine inside doubled. "I'll just share her drink here in the meantime."

"Nice one, you'll have to teach me that spell," said Dam. "Or better yet, just do it for me on all my bottles!" He turned towards the door. "Order me a double of whatever's cheap!" he called inside. "Don't let Weasley get in any trouble, Potter," he said, looking back at them. Harry took a tiny step back. Dam seemed to reconsider. "Actually, Weasley, since you're the Auror, you watch out for Harry instead, okay? Captains orders." With a laugh, he disappeared into the pub.

HPHPHPHPHP

As soon as the door closed, Harry stepped close to Ginny again and she took a step too, and looked up at him. They weren't quite touching, but Harry could feel the thrum of tension in the space between.

"He didn't notice a thing," he said, not caring if Dam had. He looked around the alley. It was quiet for the moment, but the night was just getting started, and more and more people were likely to be arriving soon. He looked back down at Ginny, considering. "We're going to be expected inside soon, aren't we?"

Ginny nodded mutely. She took another step forward, and Harry couldn't help but wrap his arms around her. She leaned her head against his chest and he heard her give a small sigh. "I've been waiting for this all week."

Harry rested his chin on Ginny's hair. "Me too," he said. "And I wish I could just Apparate us both away to somewhere private right now."

She looked up at him, a glint in her eye. "Can't you?"

Before Harry could answer, another pop across the alley broke them apart. Harry backed up against the wall and Ginny looked away and took a big sip of wine. But the group of giggling witches paid them no mind. Harry looked them over carefully and was relieved not to see any he knew. He saw Ginny watching them too, her stance relaxing slightly after she came to the same conclusion.

"Do you think Adam Ramsey's inside? Do you think he'd sign my chest?" One of the witches pulled at her already low-cut top. "I brought a pen with charmed ink – won't come off until I want it too!" Chattering excitedly to each other, they all disappeared inside the pub.

Harry knew he absolutely should suggest that he and Ginny follow the witches. They should walk into the pub a friendly distance from each other and then split up. He'd locate Dam and the rest of the team and Ginny would make her way over eventually, maybe after talking a bit more to Ron and Hermione. They'd each have another drink or two before eventually – finally – making separate excuses to leave. Only then would Harry be able to slake the ache of need that had been sitting with him all week.

Instead, he took the wine out of Ginny's hand and swallowed the rest before banishing the glass back into the pub. In front of him, Ginny hadn't moved. She was breathing a little too fast for it to be natural, and her body leaned towards his, even though her feet were still planted on the ground. Harry looked around the deserted alleyway.

"I'm in no state to make small talk with my team right now," he said. Ginny took a step forward and Harry took her hips in his hands and pulled her the rest of the way, until she was pressed up against him, his back to the brick wall. Half his body was cold and half was warm and vaguely he realized they must be at the edge of the warming charms, but he couldn't care. Ginny rested her head on his chest again and this time, no one interrupted them while her breathing slowed and his heartbeat eased to match hers. Only then did he take her chin and tip her head back to kiss her.

He'd meant it to be a gentle, closed-mouth, promise of a kiss. But Ginny turned slightly and pushed against him and Harry was forced to shuffle a few inches to stay balanced against the wall. His bum found the narrow sill where she'd put her wine and Ginny fit herself into the space between his legs, and Harry groaned against Ginny's mouth as it opened under his.

"Someone . . . might . . . see," he mumbled, moving his lips to her jaw.

"We'll just have to . . . remain . . . somewhat aware," responded Ginny. She was pushing herself against him more insistently and Harry wasn't sure he'd want to stop even if Dam and Ron together had opened the pub door just then.

But they did manage to stop a few seconds later when the telltale pop told them they were about to be interrupted again. Harry almost laughed when Ginny put her hands on her hips and her expression morphed into one of annoyance; he was sure that to the three couples at the other end of the alley it looked as though Harry and Ginny were having a disagreement. If they'd been close enough to see Ginny's swollen lips and dilated eyes (or the lump in Harry's trousers), the jig would have been up. But like the group of witches, the newest arrivals were only focused on getting themselves inside the bar as quickly as possible. No one seemed to care what errant couples might be doing under the warming charms.

The alley suddenly seemed a lot more private. As soon as the pub door closed and Ginny stepped towards him again, Harry slipped a hand inside the front of the dress-like robes Ginny wore. She made a small sound of surprise but didn't pull away, and after a second, reached up to open them further. Harry brushed his hand across Ginny's chest and sucked in his breath. She wasn't wearing a bra. He froze, hand still cupping her warm breast. "Did you know. . . ?"

"That I'm not wearing a bra?" Ginny angled herself to give Harry more access and he brushed a thumb across her nipple. "I thought it would make things easier . . . later on," she said breathlessly. Her nipple hardened under Harry's hand. "I didn't think . . . you'd find out . . . this early."

"I'm glad I did," said Harry. He was careful to keep Ginny's robes around her shoulders while he gently worked his fingers on one breast and then the other. He slid a little lower into a sitting position on the windowsill and moved his mouth to her, burying his face in Ginny's chest and breathing in the sweet scent of her skin. She ran her hands through the hair at the back of his neck and held him in place, jerking slightly when he turned his head to use his tongue to tease her. When they heard another soft pop of Apparition, Harry shuffled them both out of the protection of the warming orb to where the alley was darker and they could feel the cold air against their skin. He lifted his head but didn't move his hands away from her chest. Ginny tugged the back of Harry's shirt out from his trousers and ran her hands up his back until the sudden burst of noise and then silence told them that yet another group had entered the pub. They carefully moved back under the warming charm, and Harry pulled Ginny against him and began to kiss her again. He tangled one hand in her hair and warred with whether to pull her closer so that she could add pressure to his arousal or keep enough distance to be able to reach back inside her robes.

"Harry?" Ginny's breasts won, and Harry put both hands on her again, pleased to feel that they hadn't gotten the least bit cold. He bent down, intending to use his mouth again.

"Hmm," he mumbled, already rather distracted.

"I also planned for you to find out later that I'm not wearing any knickers."

That got his attention. Harry froze, both hands still on Ginny's chest. Slowly, he looked up at her. She was staring at him intently, biting her lower lip, and he could feel under his hands when she took a deep breath. "I'm not wearing any knickers," she said again. "Right now."

Harry's eyes automatically fell to Ginny's waist. Her robes were only open to right above her navel, so there was nothing to see, but it didn't really matter. He'd only see that bit of Ginny once, for the brief second that day Ron had gotten stuck in the wards and interrupted them, but he'd thought about it rather a lot since then. He swallowed. "You want me to . . . here?" He looked around. They'd slowly been moving to the darker – and colder – end of the alley, but the Apparition point and back door to the pub were still clearly visible, framed by warming orbs. And anyone not precise enough with their Apparition could land practically on top of them. Ginny caught his face between her hands just as another sound of arrival made them jump apart. Ginny crossed her arms around her to keep her robes closed and Harry bent down to pretend to tie his shoe. A second later, he heard her swear softly.

"Stay down," she hissed. "Fred and George and Angelina and . . . yes! Katie!"

Harry wanted to melt into the cobblestones. He could sense Ginny standing still above him; at least she hadn't seen it necessary to Apparate away or anything, and a moment later, she gave a sigh of relief. "Okay, they're inside," she said.

Harry stood up cautiously. "We should be too," he said. "Someone's going to come looking for us soon." He couldn't help it when his eyes dropped to Ginny's waist again. She was buttoning up her robes and he sighed as her breasts disappeared.

She gave a little shrug. "We will, in a minute." She grabbed his hand and moved it to the hem of her robes, which seemed to Harry to have become shorter. "We'll tell them you were teaching me the wine refilling spell." She looked him in the eye. "I don't need to finish, here, but I want you to touch me. Right now." She used their twined hands to push up the bottom of her robes.

Harry's erection, which had deflated a bit at the arrival of Fred and George in the alley, immediately grew again. He whirled Ginny around so that her back was the brick wall and then angled his body so that anyone Apparating to the back door of the pub wouldn't be able to see her. Briefly, it occurred to him that it was going to look like he was wanking to anyone arriving at the other end of the alley. But then Ginny made a restless sound and grabbed at his hand again and all other thoughts flew out of Harry's head.

He was trying to remember what he'd seen, during the one brief moment in her room, but quickly realized he'd rather watch Ginny's face instead and figure everything else out by touch. It was warm, under her robes, and not just from the heavy material. Harry braced one hand on the wall beside Ginny's head and shook the hand she was maneuvering under her dress free of her grasp.

"I want to do it myself," he said. Ginny's hand immediately retreated and she moved them both to his hips, dipping her thumbs inside the waistband of his trousers and brushing the skin there. He sucked in a breath and Ginny chuckled.

"Sensitive, are we?" she teased.

"Not as sensitive as you're about to be," promised Harry. He moved his hand swiftly upward to cup the space between her legs. She was already wet, he noted with satisfaction, and given their current location, was glad for it. "I don't think I can take the time to . . ." he began.

"I know," Ginny said breathlessly. "Just . . . just touch me however you want. Please."

Hardly believing what he was about to do, Harry slipped a finger into Ginny's folds. She moaned and closed her eyes. "Yes, right there," she said. "Right . . . there."

Harry added a second finger and experimented with pushing them in and out. Ginny clenched her thighs around his hand and moved her hands restlessly out of his trousers and up and down his arms. "Merlin, that feels good," she said. She was making little thrusting movements with her hips and for one second Harry considered forgetting everything else and Apparating them both to away to somewhere private, to somewhere with a bed, so he could do this properly. Instead, he took a guess and moved his thumb around above Ginny's center, pressing down when he thought he'd found the right spot. He was rewarded; she muttered a loud "fuck yes," and grabbed again at his hips, pulling him towards her. He almost lost his balance and was forced to pull his fingers out to catch himself from falling against the brick.

"Sorry," he said. "Sorry. I meant to, I wanted you to . . ."

"It's okay, Harry," said Ginny. She was straightening her robes. "I was the one who almost knocked you over." She grinned. "It was that brilliant."

Harry frowned. "But you didn't finish."

Ginny smirked, "I'm kind of getting used to that." Her face softened. "It's really okay. I didn't want my first orgasm from you to be while we're standing in a cold alley anyway. It was more the excitement of the moment, you know?"

Harry grinned then. "Absolutely." He looked around. "I can't believe I just did that practically in public." He pulled her back into his arms and gave her a kiss. "That was really hot."

Ginny kissed him back. "We'll have to make this sort of thing a habit," she said. She held up a finger. "But after we've spent plenty of time somewhere private. And warm." She shivered. "I think we've more than used up my excuse that I needed some air. Hopefully everyone inside is too pissed to realize how long we've been gone."

Harry stepped away from Ginny and gestured up the alley. "Only one way to find out," he said.