Harry stared blearily at Ron and Hermione, who were both looking back and forth between him and the poster. "You had sex last night?" asked Ron. He nudged Hermione. "I told you you were wrong about . . ." he broke off and looked at Harry. "Who'd you have sex with?"

"Twice, apparently," added Hermione. She gave Harry a calculating look. "Why are you on the sofa?"

Harry's head fell back on the cushions and he groaned. "Do you have any idea how little sleep I got?" he demanded. "Damn Fred and George."

"Who'd you have sex with?" asked Ron again. He walked over and jabbed at the poster with his wand, grinning when it made the announcement again. He turned back, face suddenly serious. "Was it because of that red drink? Cause I think there was something off about it."

"Yeah, Ginny thought so too," said Harry without thinking.

"Ginny?" said Ron. "When did you talk to Ginny? And how does she know about the drink?"

Harry cringed to himself. He couldn't remember the exact details of the story Ginny'd told last night or when he was supposed to have seen her. Had they acknowledged talking at the pub or had she told everyone she'd only spoken to Dam? Would Ron and Hermione think to trade stories with Fred and George? His brain was too blurry to focus. Fortunately, Hermione saved the moment.

"She went to the pub with us last night, Ron," said Hermione with exaggerated patience. "Don't you remember? And then she went outside to wait for Harry and the team while we . . . left." She turned rather pink.

"That's right," Harry jumped in. "You left before we arrived. I barely saw Ginny after that. Just a couple of minutes in the alley. She was out there because it was too hot in the pub, I guess. But we only talked for a few minutes." He forced himself to stop talking, but Ron and Hermione still seemed rather caught up in each other.

"Hermione says I seemed a bit more . . . last night. Not that she was complaining, but still." Ron and Hermione exchanged a private look and Harry stifled another groan. "I don't really remember though," Ron continued. "And you said Ginny thought there was something wrong with it too? Is that why you had sex?"

Harry knew that Ron's mention of both Ginny and the fact of Harry's having sex in the same breath was pure coincidence, still, it made him pause. He had to tread carefully lest he give something away; in his current state he felt likely to blurt out anything.

"I . . . no. That's not why," he said. He rubbed his hand over his face. "It just happened, okay? I don't really want to talk about it."

"No good there, mate," said Ron cheerfully. "This is big news, your having sex." He cocked his head at Harry. "Why'd you curse Fred and George though?"

This seemed a safe question. "They made the poster," said Harry. "Dam called them over when he saw . . . what it looks like now." He rubbed his face again. "So I assume by the time we're all at the Burrow for dinner on Sunday the entire family will know."

"Ickle Harry, no longer a virgin," said Ron with a grin. "So are you going to at least give me a hint?"

"No," said Harry shortly. "And I'd appreciate it if you keep it to yourself that it was my first time."

"And second," pointed out Hermione. She seemed to be caught between expressions of sympathy and laughter. Sympathy won. "Did you really not want to wait for someone, I don't know . . . special?" She gave him an overly understanding look.

Harry had no good answer to that. I did wait for someone special. "Don't you have to get to work or something?" he asked testily.

That was enough to distract Ron. "Oi, coffee!" he said, rushing off to the kitchen. "Can you send Ginny a Patronus, see if she's planning on walking with us?" he called over his shoulder. A minute later he walked back into the sitting room, the sound of coffee beans grinding in the background. "How did Ginny realize that drink was off?" he asked. "Did she see something at the pub?"

"I uhh, I woke up Ginny when I couldn't get Dam into his own flat," Harry said carefully. "She'd uh, come home early, I guess. And she umm, she put two and two together, based on how he was acting and what you had said to her earlier. When you were with Hermione." Harry made a quick decision. "She thought maybe the server at the pub was the same witch who brews potions for the Aurors – Sacha I think she said her name is? Said that she recognized her nail polish." Harry stopped talking then. Every mention of Ginny felt magnified to him, as if merely saying her name gave something away. He half expected Hermione to question why he knew so much about what Ginny thought, or ask him how much time they'd spent together in the pub. Any number of wrong answers would point immediately to the fact that the witch he'd had sex with was not a random fangirl.

Ron grimaced. "Sascha? Is she sure? She should probably tell someone at work then."

Harry nodded. "She is. Camilla, I think."

Ron gave a nod of understanding. "That's good. Camilla is . . ." A knock at the door interrupted him. "Tell Ginny the coffee's almost ready," he said, turning back to the kitchen. "We can leave in five."

Harry took a deep breath before flicking his wand to open the door.

And Potter catches the Snitch! Twice!

Ginny froze in the doorway. She looked as tired as Harry felt, and he could tell she was trying to figure out what she was supposed to know about the previous night and Harry's activities.

"Yeah, they've seen the poster," said Harry quickly. He didn't say anything else. Ginny gave a tiny nod.

"And what . . .?"

Ron reappeared, levitating four steaming cups before him. "Hey Gin, did you hear? Harry had sex last night with some random witch from the pub." He passed out the coffee. "You were there longer than we were, did you see who it was?"

Ginny breathed into her cup of coffee and didn't answer. Her eyes caught Harry's and he almost gave it up right there. How important was keeping the secret, really? Wouldn't pulling her into his bedroom to curl up for a nap be better?

"And what about the waitress?" Hermione asked suddenly. "You said Ginny recognized her." Hermione looked across the room. "Did she know?"

That seemed to pull Ginny out of her daze. She shook her head. "I uhh, I didn't see anything. At the pub," she said. "I mostly talked to Fred and George." She was speaking in the same careful sentences Harry was and he stifled a small grin.

"But did you know he had sex?" Ron persisted. "Twice?"

Ginny glanced quickly at Harry. "I umm, yeah. I found out last night," she said.

"When I woke her up to help with Dam," he said patiently. "And trust me, the twins have already interrogated me plenty. I promise you, it wasn't that interesting."

"Interesting enough for twice," smirked Ron. "Don't worry, I'll figure it out. I know you too well for you to keep the secret forever." He grinned. "Maybe I'll just question all the fan witches waiting outside."

"Don't you dare," said Ginny sharply.

Ron looked at her in surprise. "Why not? Aren't you the least bit curious who Harry slept with?" He waved at the poster. "And if the number's going to change again soon? Well?" he asked suddenly, looking at Harry. "Any plans for a repeat?"

Ginny looked suddenly horrified and Harry understood. If they had sex again, everyone would know. Maybe not that it was Ginny, but still.

"I told you, I don't want to talk about it," said Harry. He stood up and forced himself to stay casual. "I'm sure you'll have plenty of questions for me by dinner Sunday. Maybe by then I'll have thought up proper answers to throw you off the scent," he said lightly.

Mercifully, Ron let it go then. "Sunday then," he agreed. "I'll have plenty of backup then."

"Let's walk this morning, it's not too cold out," he said. He looked at Ginny. "You can tell me about the woman serving drinks and why you think it was that Sascha.

Ginny nodded quickly. "I'd like to talk it through with you before I speak to Camilla," she said. "Maybe Angelina too. There are probably a lot of details I missed." She spoke rapidly, and Harry'd bet anything Ginny would figure out a way to make her hunches about the potion last the entire walk to work. He yawned, feeling slightly guilty that he was actually able to go back to bed after they left. Hermione noticed.

"Still tired, Harry?" she asked with a smile. "You never told us why you were sleeping on the sofa."

"She still in your bed?" asked Ron with interest. He glanced down the hall.

"No," said Harry shortly. "She was never here. I was just too tired to move after Dam and the twins finally left last night."

"So, sex in the pub," laughed Ron. "This gets better and better." He opened the door to the flat. "Come on, Ginny. Tell me everything you remember about Harry last night. I'm sure between all of us we can figure out who he had sex with."

Harry would have laughed at the look of panic Ginny gave him as she left, if the situation had involved anything else at all; as it was, he could little more than give a weak wave as they left and hope Ginny succeeded in changing the subject back to something related to the Aurors.

The door closed and Harry flopped back on the sofa. He was about to grab one of the Gryffindor blankets and go back to sleep right there, but even with his eyes closed, he felt like he could still see the glowing outline of the poster. Muttering to himself he grabbed the coffee Ron had left him and shuffled down the hall. With any luck he'd be able to sleep without interruption until his brain was in better shape to come up with a story about what the hell he'd been thinking, having sex with a random witch in a pub.

The blankets on his bed were still in disarray from earlier, when he'd messed them up to make it look like he'd slept there. They were cold, and Harry shivered as he slipped underneath, wishing Ginny were climbing in next to him. He it looked like that wasn't going to be happening any time soon, as long as that damn poster was holding court over his flat. Sighing to himself, he rolled over and fell into a restless sleep, during which he dreamed he was being chased around a pitch by a series of fan-witches, each with an increasingly larger glowing number on her chest, while Ginny and her family watched from the sidelines, cheering him on.

HPHPHPHPHP

Ginny stumbled on the sidewalk outside the building, relieved that none of the usual audience seemed to be around to witness her clumsiness. Ron caught her neatly by the elbow before she tumbled, managing not to spill either of their coffees at the same time.

"Thanks," she mumbled tiredly.

"Sounds like it was a late night," said Hermione sympathetically. "How long were you up with Dam?"

Despite her exhaustion, Ginny was immediately on her guard. She couldn't exactly come out and say that a large part of the reason she was so tired was that she'd been quite busy losing her virginity – twice – last night. Well, the virginity-losing had only happened once, she supposed. Or, twice, if you counted both her and Harry. She giggled to herself. What if the poster was actually keeping track of that? A moment later she swallowed her mirth; lack of sleep was making her giddy.

"It wasn't just Dam," she said carefully. "Fred and George and Angelina and Katie were there too. It was a right party in Ron and Harry's flat at two in the morning." She yawned.

"So, Harry had sex twice, did he?" asked Ron. "I thought the poster was to keep track of the witches he brought back to the flat." His face lit up with glee. "Did he have sex with two different women?"

"I don't think so," said Ginny. "I think it keeps track of the number of times he had sex, not the number of witches." She spoke dispassionately, as if she was merely discussing the number of times Harry washed his socks or something. As if that glowing number on the poster had nothing at all to do with her. As if she wasn't already thinking about when she could be with Harry again. Not for the first time, Ginny wondered if she was now exempt from being counted, seeing that she'd already had sex with Harry. Was there a way to find out for sure, without actually trying it? Ginny resolved to bring an extra bottle of Firewhiskey to her parents' on Sunday; maybe she could get Fred and George talking about their invention without raising suspicion.

". . . idea who she is?" Ron was talking and Ginny realized she'd missed the first half of his sentence.

"I'm sorry, what?" she asked.

"I asked if you have any idea who the witch is who Harry slept with," said Ron. "Who was he talking to at the pub?"

"I told you earlier, I didn't really see," said Ginny shortly. "I wasn't paying attention."

"But you were waiting for him in the alley, weren't you?" asked Hermione. "Him and the rest of the team, I mean. Didn't you walk in with them?"

"I did," said Ginny. "And I talked to Harry and Dam for a little while and then I went and talked to Fred and George. I didn't see Harry leave and I don't know who he was with." Ginny could hear the petulance in her voice but she didn't care. She was tired, she was trying to figure out why Sascha would have disguised herself as a server at the pub, and she was facing the possibility of not being able to be with Harry for the foreseeable future, unless they decided to confess their relationship to everyone. She kicked stone with her toe. "For all I know, he slept with that server," she said flippantly.

"Sascha?" asked Ron with a frown. "You think he slept with Sascha? Could she have slipped him a potion?" He stopped. "Maybe we should send him a Patronus and tell him not to do anything with her again."

Ginny sighed. "I was joking, Ron. I have no idea who Harry had sex with." She was pleased to hear how normal her voice sounded.

"But if you're right, what if it was that server?" said Hermione. "Harry could have gotten into trouble; there are so many people who'd love to hear his secrets." She shook her head. "It's not like him to be careless."

Anything Ginny could have said to ease Hermione's worry would have poked holes in her story that she'd barely seen Harry at the pub. She gave a little shrug. "I'm sure he can take care of himself," she said. She giggled to herself again. Not that he has to, anymore.

Hermione sighed. "I know he can," she said. "It's just. . . he's also wants to fit in with his team, keep up that appearance too. What if they're pressuring him to do things he wouldn't normally want to, and it's making him more reckless?"

"Or maybe he was just randy and knew exactly what he was doing," said Ron lightly. "I checked the Prophet this morning; there wasn't anything there."

Ginny had checked the paper too, but she wasn't going to admit it. She gave Hermione a reassuring smile. "Harry still has too much Auror in him to let his guard down that much," she said. "I'm going to talk to Camilla Stalk this morning and tell her about the potion at the pub. If Sascha – or someone – is trying to get Harry to drink something he shouldn't, the Aurors should know." She left out the fact that the server had seemed as eager to have Ginny take the drink as Harry; saying anything that linked the two of them together felt risky.

Hermione nodded. "Are you going to mention your suspicion about who the server was?"

Ginny frowned. "I'm not sure." She looked at her brother. "What do you think?"

"I'm not sure," Ron admitted. "I wouldn't tell Robards or Kane yet, but Camilla, maybe." He turned to Hermione then, and Ginny recognized by the look in his eye that if she didn't keep walking, she was going to be in much too close proximity to one of her brother's more thorough goodbyes to his girlfriend.

"I'm going in," she said, nodding across the street to the Ministry. "Try not to be late."

Ginny wasn't even sure Ron and Hermione heard her. She sighed. Public displays of affection had never really been her thing, but still, it must be nice to be able to have those moments without worrying about it ending up in the paper or something. For it had occurred to Ginny that maybe her family's (likely overly enthusiastic) reaction to her and Harry being together might be the least of their worries, if and when the news came out. She'd let Harry take the lead with how they reacted to the public; he'd be much better than she would be at making sure the information was properly managed.

She was still thinking about what the papers might say about her and Harry when she arrived at Auror headquarters.

"Ginny, oh good. I was hoping I'd see you this morning." Any thoughts Ginny had had about finding Camilla were unnecessary; the senior Auror was standing right inside the doorway. Her tone and proximity were a bit too casual to be accidental and Ginny was immediately on her guard.

"Good morning," she said. "Did you need something?"

Camilla gave a rather uncharacteristic giggle and Ginny's suspicions sharpened. "You live in the same building as the Arrows' Quidditch team, don't you?" she asked.

Ginny nodded. "I do," she said carefully. She knew this was not news to Camilla.

Camilla smiled. "I wanted to ask you about how to plan a special back-stadium tour for my nephew; he's an enormous fan. Do you think you could help arrange something like that?" The Auror spoke slowly.

Ginny nodded, equally slowly. "I think I can do that," she said, not bothering to mention that she knew the Aurors already had a relationship with the League; they provided security for many of the biggest matches.

"If you have a minute now, let's stop by my office, I'll give you the information," said Camilla.

Ginny followed agreeably, wondering what the other witch would have done if Ginny had walked in with Ron. She'd have to make sure she told him not to mention the pub or the potion to anyone yet; not until Ginny knew what was going on.

Camilla didn't close the door to her office, but Ginny didn't miss the slight flick of her wand that set the Muffliato charm over the space. She turned to Ginny with a smile that quite belied the more serious tone in her voice. "Harry contacted me," she said.

HPHPHPHP

That evening, Ginny waited until she and Ron were well away from the Ministry before casting the Muffliato herself. To his credit, Ron had clearly known Ginny had something to tell him, but had refrained from asking all day. It had helped that their lessons had been purely practical – physical activities designed to make sure their bodies were as sharp as their magic. They were both tired, but Ginny knew the information she had couldn't wait.

Camilla's revelation that Sascha was actually Sascha Bellows shouldn't have surprised her as much as it had; she'd had her suspicions, after all. But having it confirmed that there was another sister – and one who'd managed to legitimize her actions more than the others – was disconcerting. Until now, Ginny had mostly laughed off the Bellows' antics as those of overly aggressive fans and pseudo journalists bent on selling gossip. Now that Sascha was working for the Aurors, she was less sure their motives were innocent.

"That was smart of Harry, to tell Camilla about the potion and the pub," said Ron when Ginny finished telling him what Camilla had said. "Why do you think he went to her and not Robards or Kane?"

"He knew that Robards and Kane worked more closely with Sascha," said Ginny. "Although Camilla told me that Robards had some hesitation about hiring her; unfortunately there wasn't anyone else available."

"Did Kane have the same reservations?" asked Ron.

Ginny shrugged. "I'm not sure," she said. "We didn't have much time to talk. Harry was mostly concerned about whether the potion could have longer lasting effects, especially in the amount that Dam drank. That's why he contacted the Aurors." Ginny suspected that Harry had other motivations too, but she didn't share those with her brother. It was only just now hitting her that being with Harry was going to be more complicated than she thought – more complicated than it should be, actually. It was completely worth it, of course, but she resolved to be as careful as possible about guarding Harry's privacy from now on.

Next to her, Ron yawned for at least the fifth time. "I'm so glad it's the weekend," he said. "I may not get out of bed again until we have to go to mum and dad's Sunday afternoon."

"Does Hermione know that?" Ginny teased. She paused. "Do you plan to have your lie-in at her flat?"

Ron shrugged. "Not sure," he said casually. "I think there's more food at mine so we may stay there."

Ginny forced a smile. "That . . . that sounds nice," she said. "Cozy."

Ron nodded happily. "It will be," he said. Then he smirked. "And maybe Harry'll be off somewhere else. Busy himself."

Irritation – likely fueled by exhaustion – flared up inside Ginny. "Didn't you listen to a word Harry said, Ron? It didn't mean anything, that witch. I'm sure Harry hopes that he can at least count on his best mate to drop it."

"And didn't you hear me, Ginny? I told Harry that wasn't likely, not if the rest are already getting in on the fun." He gave Ginny a thoughtful look. "My guess is that Harry's trying to downplay everything so he can keep her name private for a little longer, make sure he likes her as much as he thinks. And he'll probably try to sneak off and sleep with her at least a couple more times before we all get an introduction." He sounded so sure that Ginny stopped there in the street to stare at her brother.

"You think he actually has feelings for this witch?" she asked. "Some . . . some random girl from the pub?"

Ron nodded knowingly. "I'd guess it's not as random as Harry'd like us to think," he said. "I know you've become friends with him recently, but I've known him a long time. There is no way Harry would have sex – especially his first time – just to get it over with or on a whim. He cares about this witch - has a connection of some sort with her. I'm sure of it. Maybe it's someone who works for the Arrows, or maybe a player in another league, someone who loves Quidditch like he does, you know? If he slept with her, it must already be pretty serious."

Ginny had to turn away from Ron's musings to hide the sudden prickling in her eyes. Hearing Ron speak with such nonchalant certainty about how Harry felt made her feel like she'd just crossed some invisible barrier with him, one she hadn't even been aware of. She glanced at her brother. Unless he'd figured it out already, and was taking the mickey . . .

Ron dispelled that notion with his next comment. "Until last night, Hermione'd actually thought Harry might have fancied you!" He chuckled. "As if he's ever going to see you as anything but a sister." He elbowed Ginny. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy you two are finally talking like normal adults, but really, Harry fancying you?" He shook his head. "Hermione's made it her mission to get Harry fixed up with someone. Maybe now she'll give it a rest."

"Why wouldn't Harry fancy me?" asked Ginny before she could stop herself. She shook her head. "I mean, are you saying that I'm completely unfanciable to anyone?" she asked casually.

Ron grimaced. "Remember when I caught you snogging Dean at school?" he asked. "I know I've grown a bit since then – thanks mostly to Hermione – but talking about blokes who fancy you, or who you might fancy is still difficult for me." He huffed. "It was bad enough when you snogged Dam – or whatever else the two of you did."

"Just snogged," said Ginny quickly.

"I really don't want to know," said Ron with a shudder. He grinned. "Harry's much more fun to wonder about anyway. Now that we know it's probably someone who's connected to Quidditch, you can think some more about who was at the pub last night. What about that publicist? The blonde one?"

Ron didn't stop listing witches connected to the Quidditch league who Harry might have slept with until their apartment building was in sight. Ginny was happy to see that the cold and rather threatening weather had thinned out the crush of fans considerably; only a few, bolstered no doubt by strong warming charms, sat bundled in chairs outside.

"No Ron, I don't think Harry's interested in the woman who makes popcorn for the matches," said Ginny patiently. "I'm sure that when and if he's ready to introduce you to her, he will." Inspiration struck. "But I bet the more you bother him about it, the less likely he'll be to tell you anything," she said. "Like you said, Harry's so private. The last thing he's going to want to do is bring a witch he really . . . cares about . . . to the Burrow if he thinks everyone is going to give her a hard time." Ginny hoped didn't notice her stumble over her words. It was one thing to have Ron say so, but Ginny really wanted to talk to Harry. She hadn't doubted – not even a little bit – his sincerity in saying he fancied her. But until Ron's comment, Ginny realized that a small part of her might have wondered if some of Harry's feelings still rested on his teenaged fantasies. That didn't make them any less legitimate, but it might have made them grow more quickly than they would have otherwise. Now, Ginny could almost imagine that silly mermaid waving goodbye and swimming away, leaving behind an adult Harry, smiling shyly at an adult Ginny before grabbing her hand and whisking her off to somewhere really private. A bedroom surrounded by wards even Bill couldn't break through, somewhere without posters or brothers or teammates, where they could . . .

"GINNY."

She broke out of her reverie to see Ron looking at her. "Sorry, what?"

"I asked if you want to just go in the front door," he said. "I don't see any familiar faces." He inclined his head at the fans.

Ginny's mind was still wrapped around other thoughts. "Do you think Harry's at your flat?" she asked.

Ron grinned. "Seeing my way finally, aren't you?" he asked. "I know I have most of a bottle of Firewhiskey; lets see if we can't get Harry pissed and get him to tell us the name of the witch." He knocked hips with Ginny. "He'll do it if you ask him, I bet. He's still trying to stay on your good side."

He thinks all my sides are good. Ginny thought wickedly to herself. She stifled another giggle and tried to focus on her brother. "What do you mean, my good side?" she asked.

Ron pushed open the door to the building. "I mean, he's still worried you're going to suddenly decide he's a prat again," he said. "You know, if he makes a mistake like forgetting the Chamber again or, I don't know, trying to sit in the spot on the sofa you've picked out."

Ginny kicked at him. "You're the prat, Ron. None of that's bothered me for ages."

He shrugged. "But Harry might not know that you won't suddenly change your mind again. He's still trying to be on his best behavior with you. When he starts stealing food off your plate and taking the mickey when you get caught snogging some bloke in a pub, then you'll know he's really comfortable with you."

Ginny had to fake a coughing fit at that point. Ron pounded her on the back. "Are you okay, Ginny?"

She nodded, eyes streaming. "Yes, thanks," she gasped. "Got a bit of dust in my throat."

"Drink some water when you get home," Ron advised.

"Thanks Ron," said Ginny sarcastically. "That hadn't occurred to me."

Ron shrugged. "Just trying to help," he said mildly. "Drink Firewhiskey if you want instead."

Ginny didn't really care what she was going to drink; she only cared where, but that gave her an idea. "Firewhiskey sounds good," she said. "Didn't you say you had some?"

"I do," Ron nodded. "Big plans tonight, then? Something for which you might need a little liquid courage?" He wrinkled his nose. "Cause, I think you're going to want to shower first."

"You should talk," said Ginny. "Harry's not going to want you in the flat." That wasn't true, of course. Ginny had yet to meet a male, related-to-her or not, who cared particularly about how often they showered, if they didn't have somewhere to be. Still, Ron's comment made her pause. She knew she and Harry couldn't have actual, penetrating sex, but that didn't mean there might not be an opportunity to do . . . something. Maybe a lot of somethings, even, things for which she'd rather not smell like she'd spent the day working up a sweat dodging hexes. "I'll just pop into my shower first," she said. "And then come over for a drink. Do you think Harry will be home?" She punched at the button on the lift and didn't look at her brother.

"I dunno," said Ron. "He's not on the road, so probably."

"Good," said Ginny. "I mean, that's good that I don't have to be the third wheel with you and Hermione."

"Unless he's trying to sneak off and see his secret witch," said Ron. He smirked. "Keep an eye on him, will you? Like if he makes some excuse to run out and, I don't know, pick up take away or grab equipment he 'accidentally' left at the stadium, try to think up a reason to go along with him." Ron smirked again. "I'll bet he'll just love that, but he won't want to offend you by refusing your offer."

Ginny wanted to kiss her brother. She wondered how she could subtly tell Harry that he needed to come up with a really contrived reason to leave; maybe suggest that Ron take a shower before Hermione arrived? But why would she be in Ron and Harry's flat? Could she time her Patronus to only reveal itself to Harry when Ron wasn't around? She'd only just begun to learn the higher-level forms of communication in training and wasn't sure she had to charm completely down yet.

In the end, it didn't matter. The lift doors opened to yet another impromptu game of hallway Quidditch, and for a moment, Ginny wondered why the team was all wearing their uniforms. But then Adam Ramsey turned around and Ginny was accosted with the image of Harry's team photo, winking from the Chaser's chest. The number "two" over his shoulder was flashing and popping like crazy, and as soon as Ramsey sent the practice Quaffle through one of the hoops at the end of the hall, the announcer's voice rang out.

And Potter catches the Snitch – Twice! The question is, how many times for the witch?

The hallway exploded in laughter. Ginny caught sight of Harry on his own toy broom, grinning sheepishly as he floated near Dam. "Good one, Ramsey!" Dam yelled. "We haven't heard that comment yet."

Wilder Rich grinned at Ginny and Ron. "The announcer has a bunch of different comments when we score a goal. He'd started to repeat himself, but that one's new."

Dam tossed the Quaffle to Ginny. "Come on, let's see what it says if you score – I'll even make it easy for you." He flew his toy broom to one side. "Potter, how about you try to block Weasley instead? Let's see if your Keeping skills are as good as your Seeking ones."

By the horrified look Harry gave her, Ginny knew he was also wondering what the announcer would say if it was Ginny doing the scoring. She quickly handed the ball to her brother.

"You've seen me play," she said. "Let Ron give it a go."

"Hah," said Harry. "This will be easy."

That was all it took, of course. Ron jumped on Wilder's broom and zoomed off down the hall. Harry watched him almost lazily from in front of the hoops, and Ginny had no doubt he'd be able to block Ron with his wand arm tied behind his back. But right before Ron threw the Quaffle, Harry caught Ginny's eye.

The shot flew right by Harry's head and through the center hoop. A beat late, Harry shook his head and cuffed Ron on the arm as he flew past, fist in the air as if taking a victory lap. Ginny braced herself.

And Potter catches the Snitch – Twice! But will his roommate be so understanding the next time?

Ron landed neatly on the ground. "Harry can have sex in our flat whenever he wants," he said with a grin. "I won't care, unless she's annoying." He looked at Harry. "She's not annoying, is she?"

Harry froze for a second. Then he slowly shook his head. "She's not annoying, Ron," he finally said. He looked about to say something else, but stopped.

Ron nodded, satisfied. "Well then, everyone's invited to our flat for Firewhiskey," he announced. "We're going to get Harry pissed enough to give up the witch's name!"

Harry gave Ginny the briefest glance. He shifted a bit on his broom and Ginny felt herself grow warm. "You're going to need a lot more alcohol than you have," said Harry with a grin. "I know how to hold my liquor."

"We'll see about that," said Ron. "Ginny and I have been learning all kinds of interrogation skills at work; you don't stand a chance." He looked at Ginny. "Isn't that right?"

"I'll be in my flat taking a shower, keep me out of it," Ginny said quickly. There was no way she could participate in any sort of drinking game with Harry right now. If she didn't give something away with her words, Ginny had no doubt that once she was two or three drinks in, she'd probably start pulling Harry's clothes off. Actually, it might not even take two or three drinks, she amended.

Ron shrugged. "Come over after then," he said. "And bring whatever bottles you have; I don't have enough to satisfy this lot."

Dam was rounding up the team, promising to excuse from their next run the first person to get Harry to admit whom he'd slept with. "That goes for you too, Weasley," called Dam as Ginny walked to her door. "Come on over as soon as you can. I bet if anyone can get Potter to give up his secrets, it's going to be you."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," said Harry lightly. He smirked at Ginny. "I have years and years of experience ignoring what Ginny's saying."

Ginny shivered at the undercurrent of flirting in Harry's tone. No one else knows anything. She matched his casualness when she responded, rolling her eyes before opening her flat. "And you're assuming I even care who Harry was with," she said. "I'm just glad he finally got some." Ignoring the shouts of laughter, Ginny walked into her flat and shut the door.

She leaned her forehead against the wall. Fuck, she was aroused. And the best she could hope for now was a wank in the shower; there was no way she'd be able to get Harry alone long enough to give him any sort of message. And she was expected back in his and Ron's flat to drink and joke and act like everything was normal. Hermione'd be there by then too; and nothing got by her. Fuck.

A knock on her door startled her. Even as Ginny turned to open it, Ron's Patronus dropped down in front of her, speaking rapidly.

Harry said he's off to buy more Firewhiskey because we don't have enough. Go intercept him – make up some reason you have to go too – hurry!

The terrier hadn't even faded away before Ginny jerked open her door to find Harry standing there, his eyes wild with need. She pulled him inside.

"We don't have much time," he muttered, wrapping his arms around her and walking them both to the sofa. "I told Ron I . . ."

"I know," Ginny said. She pushed up Harry's shirt until he pulled it over his head. "He sent me a Patronus; seems to think you're sneaking off to have sex with your secret witch." Harry barked a laugh and lay down on top of her.

"So they're all sitting around my flat, waiting to see if my number changes again?" he asked. He wiggled against her until Ginny opened her legs; they both sighed in relief when he settled into the right spot.

"Well, they actually think I've just interrupted your plans for that," laughed Ginny. She pulled Harry's head towards her.

Several minutes later, she was no longer wearing a shirt or bra. Harry looked up from where he'd been sucking on one of her breasts and sighed. "If I don't come back shortly looking frustrated and carrying a bottle of Firewhiskey, they're going to start to get suspicious," he said.

"I know," said Ginny. "And I do want to shower."

Harry sat up slowly. "We have to figure out a way around that poster," he said.

"We have to figure out a way to get your entire team out of your flat," said Ginny with a laugh. She pushed up on her elbows so she could kiss Harry again and he shuffled back up her body to kiss her properly. A moment later, she pulled back. "There's no way you can go back to your flat in this state," she said firmly, reaching down between them. She waggled her eyebrows. "How quickly do you think I can get you to come if I use my mouth?"

Four minutes later, Ginny sat back on her heels and wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. Harry had thrown his head back against the sofa as he came but his hands were still resting on his thighs where moments before he'd been playing with Ginny's hair as she worked between his legs. She ran her hand across his now soft penis and watched in satisfaction as he shuddered and opened his eyes.

"Better?" she asked.

Harry summoned a cup of water from the kitchen.

"Spectacular," he said in a lazy voice. He leaned forward and wiped his thumb across the corner of her lip. "You still have a bit of . . . you know, there," he said.

Ginny took the water. "Thanks," she said. "I think I pulled back a half-second too early."

Harry chuckled. "You won't hear me complaining," he said. "Cleanest orgasm I've ever had."

Ginny laughed too. "And now you have to go and I have to shower," she said, standing up and pulling him off the sofa.

Harry fumbled with his trousers. "And once again, I didn't get a chance to return the favor," he said mournfully. "You really need to let me start taking care of you first."

"I think if I'd sent you back to your flat with an erection at least Ron would have twigged our secret," said Ginny. "I can wait."

Harry wrapped his arms around her. "Hopefully not too long," he said.

Ginny stood behind the door as Harry left since she still wasn't wearing anything on her top. Even without a climax, she was feeling a lot more relaxed than she had earlier. She only hoped Harry remembered to go out and actually get a bottle of Firewhiskey before he went back to his flat, and that he didn't fall promptly asleep once he was there.

There were two different Patronuses waiting for Ginny when she got out of the shower. Harry's voice was slurred, as if he'd not only remembered to pick up a bottle of Firewhiskey before returning to his flat, but that he'd also sampled more than a little of it. Ginny could hear voices in the background; Harry hadn't sent the message in private.

Gin . . . Ginny. Hi. They want you t' come to my flat soooon. The Arrows do, I mean. And Dam does. Wait, he's an Arrow too. Yeah. I think they want you to help them tease me or somethin'. So come to my flat after your shower. Oh, but put on clothes first. Cause seein' you naked would be . . . yeah. Just . . . come.

It was immediately obvious to Ginny that Harry was faking his inebriation; her shower hadn't been that long and there was no way Harry was going to let himself lose control. More importantly, she knew his sexual innuendos were no accident. She shivered.

Ron's message was to the point.

Good job intercepting Harry. Now get back here as soon as you can to help question him. He's already drinking, so this should be easy.

Ginny sighed and pulled on some clothes. She hoped her transfiguration skills were up to turning her Firewhisky into water without anyone else figuring it out.

HPHPHPHP

Harry was glad Ron and Hermione were so wrapped up in each other they didn't notice him transfiguring his Firewhisky into something much less potent. They were probably the only two in the flat likely to recognize the wand motion, and the more drunk everyone else got, the less chance there was that anyone would notice he was still sober. Indeed, the report from the wireless of an incoming snowstorm and the prospect of an entire Saturday snowed in had eased everyone's inhibitions rather more than normal even for the Arrows, especially considering how much everyone had had to drink the night before.

Most of them probably didn't even remember drinking, though; the potion had made them all speak more openly, but it hadn't left anyone with a hangover. Harry was glad Camilla had been able to deduce the ingredients in the drink and assure Harry there wouldn't be any long lasting effects. She'd been less certain about Sascha Bellows' reasons for her disguise or whether she might have been targeting Harry or anyone else with the potion. He hadn't wanted to mention Ginny or reveal anything that might link the two of them in anyone's mind any more than they already were. He just couldn't shake the feeling that there had been more to Sascha's plan than merely getting Harry to admit embarrassing information she could give to Witch Weekly though.

There was a knock on the door and Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Is that Ginny?" he asked casually.

"It has t' be," said Ron. "No one else could have gotten into the . . . the building without the pashword." He waved his empty glass. "Can I have more?" he asked.

Hermione waved her wand and summoned another bottle. "So many pashwords," she said with a giggle. "So many."

Harry was glad to see his friends relax, and not just because they were having a good time. Hopefully they'd be less likely to notice anything between him and Ginny this way. "I'll get it, then," he said. He waved his wand and the door swung open.

Ginny came in carrying another bottle. Her hair was still wet and hanging around her shoulders and Harry had a sudden, vivid image of that same hair draped in his lap while she sucked him off. He shifted in his seat and looked away as Ginny walked in.

"You'll have to teach me that one," called Dam from across the room. "Easier than gettin' up every time someone's at the door." The Keeper was already looking a little blurry around the edges himself, despite having a much greater tolerance than either Ron or Hermione. He'd commandeered his own bottle, Harry noticed.

Ginny floated her own bottle across the room and lined it up next to the ones Harry had brought. "Glad I had a bit myself before I got here," she said. "I need t' catch up." She plopped inartfully onto the sofa next to Harry and grabbed his cup. "Can I share yours?" she asked.

Harry knew Ginny was as sober as he was. "Absholllutely," he said carefully. "It's Firewhiskey."

Ginny took a big gulp. "Th' good shtuff," she said, giggling. Smoke came out of her ears and Harry made a low sound in his throat. "Good one," he muttered. He'd had to remind himself to recreate the whiskey's characteristic fire.

"Harry," said Ron from across the room. "Harry. I have a queshhion." Without waiting for an answer, he leaned forward. "Who'd you have sex with, are you gonna tell us? Cause I bet we all want to know."

There was a general, drunken murmur of agreement around the room. Next to him, Harry heard Ginny sigh. "Couldn't they all have passed out first?" she said softly.

"I got it," he said, under his breath. He looked across the room. "I'll tell you Ron, but only if you win the drinking game." He made a show of looking around the room. "Actually, whoever wins gets the answer. Only him though."

"Or her," said Hermione. "I wanna play too."

"Or her," Harry agreed. He raised his wand. "Let me fill everyone's glasses first."

HPHPHPHP

Ginny was impressed. Not only did Harry manage to get everyone drinking while they played some ridiculously convoluted game, but after Ron and Hermione stumbled off to his room for "alone time" he convinced the rest of his team to scatter to their own flats to 'finish the game now that they knew the rules.' "I'll announce the winner in the morning," he promised, pushing the Vincenti twins out the door last. "I need to tally up the points."

The door closed and Harry turned around to grin at Ginny. "You won, by the way," he said casually. "And the answer is, I had sex with you."

"Lucky me," she responded. "I can really hold my liquor, I guess."

"I wish I could hold you," said Harry plaintively. He looked down the hall. "They'll be there all night, won't they?"

"Sex and sleep," Ginny agreed. "Hermione's especially a lightweight and Ron's likely to pass out after he finishes." She looked at the poster on the wall. "But what about that?" she asked.

"Didn't Fred and George say it's keeping track of how many times I have sex? Everyone will just think I snuck off to see my secret witch when the number goes up," he said.

Ginny thought about that. "Do we have to go back to my flat?" she asked. "Or can we stay here?" She knew it was probably riskier to be with Harry right across the hallway from Ron, but Ginny really wanted to be with Harry in his own bed after all the time they'd spent in her own flat." She slipped her arms around Harry's waist. "I'd really like to make love with you in your room," she said. She felt Harry shiver.

"I think . . . I think that's okay," he said. "I mean, as long as no one sees you, right?"

"Right," Ginny nodded. She took another step forward and leaned her head on Harry's chest. "You can tell them you brought your witch back here," she said.

"Because I did," said Harry softly. He kissed her hair. "Let's set really good silencing charms though."

A/N: Huge thanks to Deadwoodpecker for her help, and more importantly, her suggestions. I'm really trying to get her to finish the next chapter of Peverell. Really, I am.