Chapter 5:

Harry met Ron for lunch a couple of days later. His friend appeared frazzled, so Harry waited until half of Ron's pint had been consumed and asked him what was wrong.

"Oh, just family stuff. Bill and Fleur came home like I mentioned. They're staying with Hermione and me, while they've decided to let their daughter, Victoria, stay with Mum and Dad. Just as an excuse to shag properly if you ask me. And my other brother Charlie, the one who was studying the lizards, he's back from the Galapagos, and he's staying with Ginny because he needs to be in town for meetings. But he doesn't drive, and Ginny doesn't have a car, and it's been a bit of a pain. I've been stuck driving everyone around. And Hermione's taking a course, and I hardly see her and just…bloody hell."

Harry smiled, trying to be comforting. "Sounds rough. Red said she had family in too, must be that time of year for everyone to come home and visit."

"You still don't know her name?" Ron asked as their food arrived – Cornish Pastie for Ron, a nice Shepard's Pie for Harry.

"She says soon," Harry said, shrugging as he dug into his food.

"What is she playing at, do you wonder?"

Harry paused and glanced at his friend. "Er, I don't think she's playing at anything. She's just careful. I can understand that. I'd think that you as a man with a sister would understand it too."

Ron chewed his food thoughtfully. "I reckon. I mean, okay, she'd kill me if I told you this, but Ginny had a bit of an issue a few years back. Some bloke became obsessed with her – found out where she lived, left creepy messages for her everywhere. I think it sort of…look, I know you didn't get the best impression of Ginny. She was not acting like herself at all that time at my parents'. In fact, the way she was acting reminded me of how it was when that Riddle bloke was harassing her, come to think of it."

"What exactly happened?"

"She got a restraining order put out against him, and he kept breaking it. They finally busted him when he tried to get into her flat one night. She eventually moved out of that one and found a new one here. I reckon that's why Hermione and I were attracted to the area; I wanted to stay near Ginny, in case she needed me."

"That's…awful. How long ago was this?

"Oh, about five years now, I think. She's mostly rebounded from the experience or seemed to. I suppose Dean Thomas cheating on her really didn't help things. She's usually full of life, but I guess she's wary of new people. She has periods where she gets quiet and withdrawn. I wish you could have met when she was more like herself — I think you two would have hit it off. But now you have Mystery Woman, don't you?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah, I'm smitten, what can I say? She's bloody brilliant, Ron. I'm already 'round the twist over her, I have to admit. We spent three hours on the phone, and I still feel as though we could just keep talking and talking about things."

Ron grinned. "So, when are you two going to actually meet with full lights on and everything?"

Harry frowned. "I don't know. I want to and soon, but I don't want to pressure her. She sounds as though she's had some things happen in the past too." There was something that was bothering Harry, something he felt he was missing. He didn't realize he'd been staring off into space until Ron loudly cleared his throat.

Harry gave his friend a smile. "Sorry. I do that sometimes. Especially when I think of her."

Ron gave him a frank look. "Harry. Please, don't get angry at me, but…do you think part of your attraction for this girl is because you don't know her?" Ron paused as though carefully choosing his next words. "Like, she can be anything you want her to be at this point. She's practically perfect in this grey area you two have created. It's great that you feel as though you connect with her, but…I worry you're getting your hopes up and putting her up on a pedestal."

"I don't think I'm doing that," Harry scowled, pushing his plate away.

Ron sighed. "Maybe you're not. Okay. But maybe she is? You said she told you she knows who you are and watched your games. Maybe she's one of those groupie types you hate so much. Maybe she's just better at hiding it."

"She's not. I can tell. She hasn't once said anything remotely…" Harry paused, remembering something Red had said from the telephone conversation. It's an old jersey from your previous team, I might add. It may or may not have your name and team number on it, too.

Ron quirked an eyebrow at Harry as he scowled again at his mate. "Look, I can just tell she's not. She has a real passion for the game, and she understands why I enjoyed it so much. That's all." Harry felt as though he were protesting too much, but it was true. He honestly didn't think Red was only interested in him because he'd been famous.

Ron sighed. "All right, all right. Don't get shirty with me about it. I just wanted to throw that out there."

They finished their lunch, with Harry feeling grumpy for most of it. Ron apologized again as they were heading their separate ways.

"I am sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to cheese you off. I'm just looking out for you. I have what Ginny calls 'over-protective' syndrome. I just don't want to see you get hurt or taken advantage of."

Harry sighed. "Everyone in my life is worried about me being taken advantage of. It's like the lot of you don't think I'm capable of figuring things out myself! I do know the difference between someone being honestly interested in me versus the 'public me.'"

Ron scratched the back of his neck, his ears were slightly red. "Well, yeah, you could look at it that way, I reckon. Or you could decide we just really care about you. Take your pick."

Harry shook his head. "You're right. But, Ron, I need at least one person rooting for me here."

"I am!"

"Well, okay, then."

Harry and Ron both looked away and then back at each other. Harry felt embarrassed for becoming cross.

"Er, why don't you come over for dinner tomorrow and meet more of the family. Eventually, I want you to be able to say you've met them all. You know, so you'll have the whole Weasley set," Ron said after a moment, his cheeks turning pink.

Harry nodded. "All right. And, hey, I'm sorry I got shirty. You are looking out for me, and that's a good thing, you're right. I think it's just because I get it from Sirius, too. It makes me defensive."

Ron looked relieved at his words and smiled. "Around six, okay? We have chairs now and everything."

"Hah. Yeah, I'll be there."

They parted ways, and Harry sighed as he turned to go home, his thoughts and heart in a whirl.

o-o-o-o-o

Red-

Do you ever want to throttle the people that care about you? You know that they are just trying to be helpful and are worried for you, but you also just want them to let you live your life?

I had a minor disagreement today with a friend (over you), and I know I should count myself lucky that I have someone who cares so much about me but at the same time…I know what I'm doing here. Or at least, I feel like I do. I don't have a large group of close people in my life. I guess that makes me insulated against most things, which is how I usually like it. I only consider four, maybe five people, to be my chosen family, to be honest. And I wish just one of them would appear to be happy for me.

Perhaps they just don't understand how we can claim to know each other so well, without having really met. And quite frankly, I am tired of trying to explain it. I don't really have any great thoughts or answers or anything, but I wanted to talk to you. Or talk at you. I have a feeling you'll understand without me having to fully explain it.

-Harry

Harry-

I do understand! More than you know. You just described most of my young life, being the youngest in a family with older brothers is the most wonderful, yet most tedious thing in the world! They were (and still are) the most interfering bunch of idiots you will ever have the pleasure to meet. It's as though they can't recognize (or maybe it's that they just can't see) that I am grown woman and can handle myself. Most of my young life was spent having to hide things from my family so that I didn't get lectured at. They act like I am made of china sometimes. And it is nerve-wracking, to say the least. And very frustrating.

I have not told anyone about our friendship yet. Not because I am embarrassed or worried about their clucking tongues over what I am sure they will think is just another way I'm screwing up my love life, but you know what? I want this...whatever this is between us, to be mine. Just for me. Does that sound selfish? I want all of you, Harry. To be mine. Not theirs. At least, for this little time of us just discovering each other. I don't want to share you. You are a bright spot in my life at the moment, and I am fiercely protecting it.

-Red

o-o-o-o-o

"Hullo, Harry! It's nice to finally meet you, been a longtime fan," Charlie Weasley shook Harry's hand in a firm grip. Harry grinned at him in response. As with all the Weasleys, there was just something inherently likable about the other man. Charlie was tall and lanky like Ron, but with more freckles, if that were possible. He didn't look like the scholarly type, in fact, he looked tan, as though he'd spent most of his time in the sun. Playing volleyball on a beach.

"Ron tells me you're back from studying lizards?" Harry asked as they made their way to the dining table (this time, it did indeed, have chairs).

"Yeah, I'm a herpetologist. It's fascinating stuff, really. But don't worry, I won't bore you," Charlie said good-naturedly. Hermione came over to them, hugging Harry briefly.

"Harry, let me introduce you to Bill and Fleur."

Harry followed her over to a couple that was standing just outside the kitchen door. Bill was tall and handsome, and…well, he just looked cool. He had long hair and an easy smile. He was holding a little girl about four or five years old, who had long, blonde hair and the bluest eyes Harry had ever seen. That is until he turned to greet Bill's wife, Fleur. She was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. As tall as Bill, but with curves, she apparently had legs that went on forever. Harry tried not to stare too hard. Especially since when she smiled at him, there was a touch of mischief in her eye.

"'Allo, Harry Potter, zee famous football player. You killed us once in a match, but I have decided to forgive you."

Bill laughed as he shifted his daughter in his arms to shake Harry's hand. "Forgive my wife, Harry. She was a big Lyon fan. I believe you and your team slaughtered them a few years back. Quite right, too, I may add, no matter what my wife says."

Fleur rolled her eyes at her husband, but it was full of affection. They talked for a short while until Hermione then maneuvered Harry back over to the table. Harry counted the chairs and frowned.

"I thought everyone was coming tonight?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, unfortunately. Percy has to work, and Ginny wasn't feeling well, although she said she might come by later. This actually helps as I am quite sure we don't have enough room for two more. Not that I want either of them to miss this bedlam. Oh, there goes the timer, I've got to check the hob. You're sitting here, next to Ron and Charlie, Harry."

As though summoned, Ron appeared at Harry's side with a drink. "Cheers, mate." Harry smiled appreciatively.

"Ta," Harry said, taking a deep drink of whatever it was. He smiled a moment later. "Cider?"

"Cider," Ron said, nodding. "I reckon everyone not related to me needs to be a bit pissed to eat with this lot."

"Your parents aren't here either, are they?"

"Nah, they dropped off Victoria, and Dad mentioned something about taking Mum out for a bite to eat, alone. I think Mum is more into grandchildren then Dad. I'm not sure he's been all that happy about watching Victoria all the time."

Harry watched as Fred and George had taken over playing with Victoria. They were playing with what looked like a huge, yellow stuffed bird and trying to make her find it as they passed it back and forth behind their backs. The little girl giggled at them, as Fred made bird noises, and George swooped the stuffed animal through the air if she guessed correctly.

Hermione announced dinner was ready, and everyone found their seats, with Fleur holding her daughter on her lap so Bill could get their plates ready. Hermione had cooked an excellent dinner – there were bangers and mash and Cornish pasties, as well as a salad and a nice steak and kidney pie that Harry rather enjoyed.

"I see Hermione stayed traditional," Harry noted to Ron. His friend chuckled.

"Only because I convinced her that poor Bill and Charlie were dying for some good old-fashioned English grub. She wanted to make trout and lemon capers with escargot. And some strange pizza thing that had no sauce on it but had lettuce and pesto."

"So where's Ginny tonight? She's not feeling too bad, is she?" Bill was asking Charlie.

"She said she had a headache, but she wanted to see you guys, so she might pop in. It was weird, she was all set to come, and then after talking to Hermione, she changed her mind."

"What did you do, Hermione? Threaten to make her wash all the dishes?" Bill said, laughing. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"No! Of course not. Actually, she said she didn't feel well, but I did sort of get the feeling it wasn't all that serious. She was all set to come until I mentioned…" Hermione's voice ran off and a strange expression came over her face as she looked in Harry's direction. "Well, never mind," Hermione said, shaking herself. "I'm sure Ginny has her reasons."

The talk turned to other things – Charlie told a humorous story of sharing bedroom space with a Galápagos sea lion that had refused to leave the beach hut he'd stayed in. Then Fleur told them about the markets and exotic food she and Bill had discovered while in Luxor. She told Hermione of a dish they had tried that Victoria had fallen in love with – Kushari. A mixture of noodles, rice, black lentils, fried onions, tomatoes, and bizarre-sounding spices, to Harry's ears. Bill then said Victoria had taken to waking them up early so that they could hurry down to the local eatery to get some for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Fred and George both seemed enraptured by Victoria even more after this particular story and took her out back to play with after she'd finished eating. The rest of the adults smiled as they heard her peals of laughter at whatever the twins were doing.

"Those two are going to be her favorite uncles soon," Fleur said, smiling. She raised her eyebrow at the rest of the Weasley brothers. "Zee rest of you will have to…how did Bill put it? Pick up your game?"

Ron, Percy, and Charlie all looked at each other and laughed. "Well, I can't have that," Charlie said, standing up. "Reckon I should go out there and entertain her too. She sees me least of all."

Harry started helping Hermione clean up as Ron began to tell everyone else about how he'd fixed up his study just the way he wanted it.

"Oh, Harry, you don't have to help me - you're a guest. Go out and relax with the others."

"I don't mind," Harry said, ignoring her and carrying the dishes for her. Hermione gave him a grateful smile, and they entered the kitchen. She turned on the taps and nodded at him. "We'll put most of these in the dishwasher, I just want to soak the bigger items first."

Harry and Hermione chatted for a bit, and after they finished, she turned on the coffee maker and showed Harry the cake she had made for afters. They sat at the kitchen table, and Hermione rested her chin on her hand, giving him a strangely calculating look.

"So, how is your email relationship going? Ron mentioned you two have actually talked on the phone now?"

Harry smiled and felt secretly proud of himself that Hermione's question hadn't made him blush. Too much teasing from Sirius had clearly helped in this regard.

"Yeah, it was great. And we're still writing each other, all the time."

"Do you think you'd recognize her if you saw her, out on the street?"

Harry frowned. "Er, I think so. I mean…the nightclub was dark, but I do have this mental image in my head, yeah. Why?"

Hermione shook her head and looked out the window briefly. "No reason. It's sort of curious, really. Do you think you would recognize her voice?"

Harry couldn't help but blush then and looked away. "Oh yeah, definitely. But what's curious?"

Hermione smiled as she got up to pull down a tray for the coffee. "Oh, you know. How what we think we see and know versus what's really there. Like you said, you have this mental image of this woman in your head, but what if it doesn't match up with reality?"

Harry frowned. "You mean, what if she's not pretty enough or she looks different than I remember?"

"Well, yes, for a start," Hermione said.

"Hmm. Well, I think I'm a bit too far gone now, to be honest. She's…she's pretty great, personality-wise. We really get on, Hermione. I'm sure it won't matter what she looks like in the long run."

Hermione smiled at him again. "That's great, Harry. That's the right attitude. That means you really do like her."

"Well, yeah," Harry said, feeling as though he'd said it enough for it to be self-evident. Hermione laughed at his expression.

"Come on, you carry the coffee tray, and I'll be right behind you with the cake."

Harry made sure he had a tight grip on the tray and headed out towards the back patio, where mostly everyone had gathered. It was a gorgeous night – the sun was just setting behind the back fence, and they had placed fairy lights around the garden, making everything glow. Harry set the coffee tray down as everyone came forward to get a cup. He grabbed one for himself and poured a little milk into it and stood by Ron.

"Was wondering where you got to," his friend said. "See my wife put you to work. Better you than me, is that horrible of me to say? Hmm, it probably is."

"I didn't mind," Harry said truthfully. "Sometimes, I don't really like big gatherings."

Ron nodded in understanding and then looked towards the kitchen. "I thought Hermione was going to serve that chocolate cake of hers? I've wanted some since she made it, but she wouldn't let me near it. And rightly so."

Harry looked at the kitchen, too. "She said she was right behind me. I'll go make sure she's got everything in hand."

Harry started back across the garden as Charlie went by with a thrilled Victoria on his shoulders. Her shrieks of joy made him smile. He was watching the pair go by as he walked and wasn't looking where he was going, which of course, meant that what happened next was entirely his fault.

"Ouch!"

"Ow!

Harry had walked into someone, which caused him to tip forward slightly since his attention had been centered elsewhere. He tripped and then fell, his glasses flying off his face as his backside hit the ground. All Harry saw was a reddish blob standing in front of him.

"Hermione?" he asked, not sure who he'd run into exactly. Everyone else was accounted for. A floral scent his nose, and he was suddenly confused. Where had he smelled that before?

"Blimey, Ginny, you know how to make an entrance," Ron's voice was saying, and Harry looked up at a taller reddish blob.

"He ran into me!" said an angry female voice, and Harry suddenly needed to know where his glasses were.

"Er, did either of you see where my glasses went?"

The smaller, reddish blob on his right moved, and then he felt her hand on his as she fitted his glasses into his fingers. "Sorry," she said softly, and Harry felt an odd swooping feeling in his stomach. That voice… her voice…

He slipped his glasses on and looked up at Ginny Weasley. A Ginny Weasley that looked absolutely gorgeous. Her hair was piled high on her head in an attractive way, with delicate, wispy tendrils framing her face. She was wearing a short skirt without stockings, her legs looking amazingly fit to Harry. "Um," he stuttered, blinking dumbly at her. He felt as though the wind had been knocked out him. In more ways than one.

"Bloody hell, Gin, I think you gave him a concussion," Fred said, coming over to them.

"Way to go, Sis. Always said you were a smooth operator. Now you're knocking out men without even trying?" George added, looking at his sister.

Harry watched as Ginny's eyes narrowed at her brother, a snarl on her face. "Shut it," she said harshly, and she glanced down at Harry, her skin turning the brightest pink he'd ever seen. "Sorry," she said, looking away. "I'm a klutz, apparently."

"No, you were right in one, I ran into you. I'm the one who's sorry," Harry said, trying to stand. Ron had to help him up as he swayed on his feet. Hermione came out of the kitchen with the cake then, frowning at them.

"Why was Harry on the ground? Ginny? What's wrong?" Ginny just shook her head at Hermione and went past her back into the house. Harry felt utterly discombobulated. What had just happened? And why was Ginny Weasley reminding him of Red?

o-o-o-o-o

Harry-

My brothers always taught me that anything is possible if you've got enough nerve, and that logic has served them well. Tonight I'm going to be bold and do something that requires all of my nerve. At least I am going to try. My courage could fail me at the last minute, but… we'll see. Wish me luck? ;-) You might find that humorous later. Or you might not, depending on how it goes. But that's what makes it exciting, yeah?

-Red

Harry yawned as he read her letter, confused. She hadn't written since he'd received that letter, so he had no idea how whatever it was she'd been planning had gone. It was late at night, and he had finally come home after being at Ron and Hermione's. After he had been knocked off his feet, he'd felt wobbly, and Hermione insisted that he stay until he felt better. Ginny Weasley had stayed away from him and visited with her older brothers and then left, not sparing him another glance. Harry didn't know why the woman didn't seem to like him or perhaps was still angry at him for walking into her, but he'd been the one knocked on his arse. Harry wasn't carrying a grudge, so why should she?

He couldn't believe he'd thought Ginny Weasley was Red for the briefest moment. He really was losing it. He decided to write a short note to her and then call it a night.

Red-

Well, I am on tenterhooks over here, waiting to see how it all went for you, but I've had a long night and must call it a day. I hope everything went the way you planned it and oh, by the way? Could you tell me what it was? ;-)

Do we get to talk on the phone again soon? How is your family member getting on with their visit? It must be nice to have an extended family. I always thought I would have liked to have had a brother or sister. But I guess it wasn't meant to be. We've never talked about my parents, have we? I'll have to save that subject for another time, but don't hesitate to ask me anything, if you're curious. I think they would like you. Just a feeling I have. You're so witty and clever, and you make their son happy. So yeah, they'd definitely be in the Redflash fan-club.

I must be tired, I've practically gone insipid and romantic here, and we can't have that. Talk to you soon, I hope.

-Harry

Harry-

I'm sorry for not writing sooner. I keep doing that, don't I? Like you, I had a long night. And…my thing, my brave, bold thing I was going to do went… south. So I have nothing to report. C'est la vie, as zee French say.

Having family is great, but I think I would much rather have it like you do. I don't mean that in a bad way, it's just…reading your stories of growing up with your godfather, it sounds like it was lovely. Your parents may not have been there, but you were loved, and you were cared for by someone they chose. And now the people you choose to surround yourself with…well, they are your family now, aren't they? It doesn't matter if they're not blood. When you tell me stories about your uncle, your love for him shines through. And don't get me wrong, I love my brothers but…oh, sometimes, Harry, sometimes I just want to throttle them.

I haven't asked about your parents yet because I assumed it was a sensitive subject. I can't even imagine not knowing my Mum or Dad. They are my rocks. Especially my Mum. She can be quite formidable. She scares the socks off my git brothers at any rate. My dad is a bit eccentric, and I think I get my sense of humor from him. He has an interesting take on life, to say the least.

I do want to talk again. Sometimes I find myself thinking of you throughout my day and wanting to share it, but I am not sure how often you'd like to be bothered. I can be a bit of a chatterbox, or so my brother tells me.

I have a job interview soon, I can tell you that! Cross fingers for me. I am getting a bit worried. Nothing has come through for me yet. My brother gave me a bit of money, so that will help, but I hate feeling as though I owe someone something. It's not a pride thing, not really. I just…I just want to be able to stand on my own two feet. Okay, I lied, it is a pride thing. But not in an obnoxious way. Does that make sense? I am not so stubborn that I won't let someone help me, if I need it, but…yeah. Hopefully, you understand what I mean.

Let's talk tomorrow night if you are available. I'll call the same time as before, if that is acceptable?

-Red, who may have tried a cup of coffee this morning and sort of liked it

Red-

Tomorrow night, the same time as before, is perfect. My godfather and uncle will actually both be gone, and I'll be able to really relax. ;-) ( I don't mean that the way it sounded, honest, so get your mind out of the gutter, Red)

I know what you mean about needing to stand on your own two feet. My parents were fairly well off and left me a lot of money, but I didn't feel as though I had earned it in any way. Especially since I would rather have them in my life than…well, you know. I know you want to handle everything yourself since you're 'the girl' in the family, but you know, sometimes, accepting someone's help isn't a bad thing. If we were actually together and not here, in cyberspace, I would hope that you would let me help you. Because I would want to. I take care of the people who matter the most to me.

I will cross fingers for you! I hope you get the job you want. You never told me exactly what you do, but I am sure you are the most brilliant, amazing person doing it. ;-)

You can send me letters or phone messages any time you want. In all seriousness, I love hearing from you. Even if you just want to tell me how much you love coffee now and want to dedicate your life to making me the perfect cup. I'm here for you, Red.

I'm a cheeky blighter, aren't I? You bring it out of me. I love making you laugh, by the way. Did I mention? I can't wait to do that tomorrow and…other things. See, there I go again. Cheeky, cheeky, cheeky. ;-) Please tell me you love it?

-Harry

o-o-o-o-o

Six o'clock the next evening rolled around quicker than Harry would have thought. Sirius was off to Swindon for a dog show, and Remus was staying at Dora's for the night since she had been at work the past week and missed their usual Tuesday stay over. Remus had fretted about leaving Harry alone, but he had assured his uncle that he would be all right. He was going to Ron and Hermione's the next day and would make sure to eat something reasonably healthy. At least once.

He was actually just beginning to get back into the book he'd started when his phone went off. Harry picked it up, smiling.

"Hello, Harry Potter, evening phone sex operator at your service. What are you wearing?"

Red snorted and laughed in his ears. "Harry! What if I hadn't been the one calling?"

"Well, then this phone call would have gone downhill very fast. Hey, how are you?"

"I'm fine. Actually, I'm now fantastic, since I'm talking to you. How was your day? You were on your own, right? What does the famous Harry Potter do where there's no supervision?"

Harry chuckled. "Well, I slept in, which was amazing, then ate the breakfast Sirius left for me, then exercised it off."

"What do you do to exercise? Do you go to a gym?"

"No, I have my own setup. After the accident, I needed someplace I could use without being gawked at. It's small, but it serves its purpose. I have a treadmill, and I usually starting walking, then build up to running until my leg hurts. Then I have weights, those types of things."

"Does your leg still hurt a lot?" she asked, sounding concerned.

"A bit. I tend to just ignore it, to be honest. But…yeah, I actually can't remember what it felt like for it to not hurt."

"That's…that's sad, Harry. Is that why you never play anymore? Not even for fun?"

"It's not that sad, Red. I'm not in agony or anything. I mostly just feel twinges. And, yeah, I reckon at first, after retiring, I didn't want anything to remind me of how it used to be. Every time I tried to play, the pain would just be another reminder of what I had given up. And I mean the game, not the fame or the money."

"I know," she said softly. There was a beat of silence between them. "So, what else did you do today?"

"Well, then I showered and did a bit of tidy up around the place. Whenever Sirius leaves on a trip, it's like a storm blew through the house. Remus and I pretty much just accept it now. I had a meeting with my secretary, Ian. We're breaking ground on a new Sports Center in a few weeks, in Dawlish. That took a big part of my afternoon, admittedly, and then I came up to my room to read, just waiting to hear your dulcet tones."

Red chuckled. "What were you reading? You didn't mention you liked to read. Was it a sportsbook? Those are the only kinds of books my brother reads."

"No, I actually don't like to read sporty things, to be honest. I would much rather be playing. I…well, this is sort of embarrassing, I reckon, but I read mysteries, detective stories, those types of things. Is that silly? I just like figuring things out. I think I might have liked to have been a detective or something like that if football hadn't happened."

"No, it's not silly if you like it. I bet you love solving puzzles or riddles, don't you?"

"Well, if they are pleasantly shaped and have red-hair…" Harry let his voice trail off suggestively. He was rewarded with the rich sound of her laughter.

"I'll have to remember that," Red said, sounding amused.

"So, how about you? How as your day, and if you lingered in the shower at all, please, go into detail."

"You are so incorrigible!" Red laughed.

"But you like it," Harry said, knowing he sounded smug.

"I do, I have to admit. Well, I had my interview today, and I think it went really well. I won't hear until next week. After that, I hung out with my sister-in-law, who talked me down from my anxiety attack. She's very good at that; she's very sensible. Usually, I am too, but I really want this job, so…you know how that goes."

"Yeah, the more you want something, the more…"

"Nervous you get, right. Should we be concerned we're finishing each other's sentences?"

Harry laughed. "No. It's all normal and perfectly natural except for the fact that I don't know your real name, Red. Are you ever going to tell me? Is it something horrible? Is that why you won't tell me? Is your name Mildred? Gertrude? Bob?"

"Bob? You think I'm named Bob? A girl named Bob?"

Harry snickered. "Okay, the more you react, the more I think you are named Bob!"

"My name is not Bob, Harry."

"Is it RedBob?"

"No!" Red said, laughing. They giggled together, and Harry felt a light-hearted joy within him that he hadn't experienced since playing football.

"You make me happy," Harry suddenly said without meaning to. He felt like an idiot for a moment until she sighed in his ear.

"I'm glad. You make me happy, too."

"When are we going to meet again?" Harry asked, almost fearful of her answer.

There was a long silence from her side of the phone, and Harry had tensed up without realizing it. He almost exhaled audibly when she next spoke. He had thought he had scared her into hanging up.

"I do want to meet again, Harry. God, more than you know. But…I'm worried you're going to be upset once we do."

"Upset? Why would I be upset? Are you really bald? Is that why you were wearing that turban thing? I could like a bald girl, I think. You'd be very aerodynamic."

"Harry!"

Harry laughed and felt relieved that the tension had gone out of their conversation. He had not wanted their easy-going conversation to end on such a sour note.

"I…I am scared of your reaction, that's all. Because of reasons I can't go into. God, I sound like a prat."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, you kind of do, but I don't want to spoil our night getting serious. But…Red, I think we should do it sooner than later, yeah? I know you have your reasons, and I'm trusting you. I just think if we want this play to move forward, we're going to have to do it before the goalposts get moved."

"Are you drinking anything?" she asked randomly, and Harry frowned at the change in topic.

"Er, not currently. Do I need water for this discussion?"

Red laughed. "No, I just thought we could get pissed while on the phone. I have some vodka and cranberry juice I could use in a pinch, how about you?"

"Hmm, I think Sirius has a couple bottles of something. I don't normally drink at home, I admit. Should I go downstairs and investigate?"

Harry took the phone with him as he opened up the cupboard Sirius used for his various bottles of whiskey and gin. After poking around a bit, he found a bottle of an unopened bottle of Talisker Skye and cried 'Eureka' as Red laughed at him.

"So, you're a single malt man." She chuckled. "But do you drink it straight or on the rocks?"

"For this conversation? Definitely on the rocks," Harry said, grabbing Sirius's ice bucket and sticking some ice and a glass in it while he used his other hand to carry the whiskey. He tilted his head to the side, holding his phone between his ear and his shoulder so he could still talk to her as he made his way upstairs again.

"You don't trust yourself?" Red was asking him.

"I just think it's better to have my wits about me with you, that's all," Harry said, laughing.

Once he was settled again, he took a drink and sighed as the whiskey warmed his insides. "Ahh, good idea, Red. Are you set over there?"

"Yes, I'm actually on my second glass, so pick it up, Potter."

"Yes, coach," Harry said dutifully as he took another drink. "So what was this thing you had planned that you needed to be bold for? You never did say. You don't think I notice when you evade my questions, but I do."

Red sighed. "Oh, it was… Harry, what do you like the most about me?"

"Er, well, you laugh at my jokes, for one, and you snog like a drowning person breathes. And I like your voice and the way you express yourself. Why? What do you like the most about me?"

"I like how earnest and kind you are. I used to…I used to think that you would be hard to know, because of living your life in the spotlight, but you're not, really. You're so open with everything. And sexy as hell. Can't forget that bit," she laughed, a warm sound in his ear that made Harry's heart beat faster. "Can I tell you a secret?" Red continued, sounding nervous.

"Of course," Harry said automatically.

"When I was younger…I had a terrible crush on you. My brothers never knew, or at least, I don't think they did. Or they would have teased me mercilessly. But my father knows. He's the only one who does. Well, besides you, now."

Harry smiled into the phone. "Oh, really? Did you use to have old posters of me in your room? Is that why you had my old jersey on the other time?"

Red laughed. "Yes, and yes. But I kept the poster on the inside of my wardrobe. God, this is so embarrassing. I can't believe I told you that. Ugh, I am an idiot. You probably think I'm a groupie or something horrible like that. I'm not! I swear. I just…you were almost the same age as me when you started and so good at football. So natural. The way you played the game, I just felt like we had a kinship, somehow."

"You know, it's funny you mentioned that as one of my mates was…well, remember the other day when I wrote about wanting to throttle the people that care about me? Well, he was going on about how you might be one of those groupie types, one of those women that cling to the next hyped player. But you're not, and I never thought you were. And now, even knowing about your crush, I still don't. I'm flattered, actually."

"Well, then I'm glad I told you. It was bothering me that I hadn't. I mean, I got over it, obviously. I haven't been pining for you or anything, Potter. Let's get that clear."

"Duly noted, Red," Harry chuckled. "So… did you have any interesting fantasies during this crush of yours?"

She laughed. "I was only 14 years old, Harry! The result of my fantasies were thoughts of you sticking your tongue down my throat or something equally innocent, like holding my hand."

"I don't know," Harry mused. "My fantasies were pretty vivid at that age if I remember. Noticing girls for the first time. I'm sure I walked around in a constant state of arousal for a least a year. And besides, sticking tongues down throats now makes me think of other activities I can use my tongue for."

"Harry!" But she laughed at him, and he heard the clink of ice against glass across the line.

"Still drinking?" he asked.

"Yes, and thank god, it's the only thing keeping me from hanging up this phone in utter embarrassment."

"I kind of like this less inhibited you," Harry said. "Remind me to get you amazingly pissed for our first date."

"Our first date will hopefully be spent horizontally and perhaps up against a few choice furniture items, so there'll be no need. Oh, god, listen to me."

"I am. I have been. I like it," Harry said, teasing her.

"How much?" Red asked, her voice turning sultry. Harry felt his excitement all the way down to his toes.

"Very much. So, er, you never did answer the first question of the evening. What are you wearing, Red?"

She sighed. "I took a shower before I called you, so not much at all. Just a dressing gown."

"And you're just mentioning this now? Bloody hell, woman, way to bury the lead. What color is this gown? And now I suddenly feel over-dressed."

Red laughed. "It's purple. And if you have trousers and pants still on, then yes, you are very over-dressed, Harry. Best get on that."

"I also like all your good suggestions," Harry said, laughing. "Hang on."

He placed the phone down and removed most of his clothes in record time, feeling his body respond. "Okay," he said, picking the phone back up.

"You sound breathless," she murmured.

"Just excited."

"You're such a boy, Harry." She giggled, and Harry felt himself respond.

"You know, Red, you don't giggle very often, but when you do, I like it. It's…arousing."

She giggled again, and he heard her take another drink. She sighed in his ear. "I don't normally act like a giggling first year, but you bring it out of me. You bring a lot of things out of me. Why do you think that is, Harry Potter?"

"My natural-born charisma?" Harry laughed despite himself. "That's what my godfather says. Also, I feel like I could say or do anything with you, and you wouldn't judge me or think I'm touched in the head. You have this amazing ability to just make me feel…safe. God, does that sound mawkish or what?"

"No, it sounds quite lovely, Harry. And I feel the same. I…I'm already quite ready over here if you catch my drift."

"I'm getting there myself," Harry said, noting that his body had definitely been paying attention too.

"I thought I would be a bit more handsy tonight," Red said, her voice lowering.

"Oh? No external help this time?"

"Nope. Just the power of your dead-sexy voice."

"Oh, the pressure is on, now," Harry chuckled.

"Not quite, but it could be very soon."

Harry closed his eyes, imagining her. "Okay, Red, now don't get offended in any way, but I need to create a visual here. What size are your breasts?"

"They match my body type, I suppose. They're not small, but they're not overly large. They fit in my hand."

"Hmm nice," Harry said, thinking of her touching herself. "Slip that hand in between your dressing gown, tease your nipples for me."

"Are you this bossy in person?" Red asked, sounding breathless herself. "Don't get me wrong, I like it."

Harry chuckled. "No, mostly, I am a man of semi-action, not words. Hmm, perhaps that's why Cho and I never had that sensational a sex-life."

"You know, mentioning another woman's name while I'm teasing myself over here wasn't exactly clever."

Harry cursed as she laughed at him. "Sorry. I didn't mean to bring up ghosts from the past."

"It's okay, but…was your sex life really that bad?" She asked, sounding curious.

"I don't know? I reckon I was okay with it at the time, but…my godfather sort of pointed out we weren't as passionate as we could have been? She is…she was, the only woman I've technically been with."

"And yet you're so knowledgeable and sexy on this phone," she said.

"Hmm," Harry said frowning.

"What is it, Harry? What were you just thinking?"

Harry paused, not wanting to say, and yet he couldn't help himself. "I just thought that it would be awful if this is as good as I get. What if in person, I'm complete shit? This could be the shortest love affair known to man."

"Oh, Harry," Red murmured. "I don't think you're going to be complete shit. You already know how to turn me on, and really, anything after that can be learned or explained or worked with, yeah? My first boyfriend was bollocks at sex, and I'm not saying that's how you were with Cho, but he eventually got better, and I probably did, too."

"It's easier for girls, though, I think," Harry said, not able to let his anxiety go now that it had reared its head.

"Oh? Do you think? First, it hurts us, if the man doesn't, you know, get us ready, which let's face it, half you lot don't know the first thing about that. And then, even if we are ready, it can still be sore. And then of course, even after your body gets used to being invaded, you have to learn other things, like going down on a bloke. The first time I did it, I was worried I was going to hurt him! He said later that I was too gentle and too slow, and he'd thought about asking me to just stop. I was mortified."

Harry thought about it and realized she was right. "I never thought of it that way before. I suppose as a man, I've often just thought a woman just needs to show up and be willing."

Red laughed. "We have the same insecurities and anxieties as you, trust me. And don't even get me started on the whole 'how does my body look in this light? Am I too skinny? Am I too fat? Will he like the way I smell? The way I taste?' It's ridiculous, really."

"Amazingly, it's a wonder any of us do it at all," Harry said, chuckling.

"Well, when we do finally manage to pull our heads out our own arses, it can be quite fun, admittedly."

"So this boyfriend of yours who was bullocks in bed, what was his name?"

Red laughed. "I said he got better. His name was Michael, and we were both 19. And utterly clueless. Although I think I was slightly better off than most girls, having brothers and understanding the male…need."

"How many tries did it take until he really made you…cry out with pleasure?"

Red snorted. "Aren't you a Nosy Ned?"

"Not really, I was just wondering how long it took the poor blighter to hear such a gorgeous sound. Some of us got it right in one."

She gave a hearty laugh, and Harry chuckled along with her. "As I said earlier, incorrigible. Hmm, I think it took a few times. I never had one during, but afterward or before, he eventually got around to it. Now, my last boyfriend…he was good. Oh goodness. Yes."

"Now this bloke, I hate," Harry said, suddenly feeling petulant.

"So do I, come to think of it. He cheated on me if you must know. So as good as he was, he didn't know when to keep it to himself. The tosser."

Harry wanted to comfort her immediately; he had never heard her voice sound so bitter. Or lost.

"I'm sorry, Red. I didn't mean to bring us down. I'm sorry that happened to you. I can't even…I can't fathom it, to be honest. Some blokes don't know what they have. They're just in it for how many girls they can pull, or they get off on the cheating. I saw it all the time while playing. I have never understood that mindset. Whoever this berk was, he didn't deserve you."

She was quiet for a long time, and he waited, knowing she was still there, feeling and thinking things.

"I…took it hard when it happened. I…was blindsided by it, I have to admit. I thought we were good. I mean, I don't think I thought it was love, but…he made me laugh, and he made me feel pretty great about myself. He was so…attentive. I was floored when I found him in…her bed. I just…lost it. It's sort of shaken my confidence more that I'd like to admit."

Her voice was shaky, and Harry swore to himself. "I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

There was such a stillness on the other side of the line that Harry almost thought they had been disconnected. He realized belatedly what he'd said and felt shocked at his own slip.

"Er, Red, I…er…that wasn't a, um, pronouncement of any kind. I, er, that is…it was a term of endearment. Don't freak out."

He eventually heard her chuckle, and her voice sound strangled as though it was hard for her to speak. "It's a nice term. Um. I don't feel so sexy anymore. I'm sorry, Harry."

"It's fine," Harry said. All previous thoughts of whatever they'd been about to do had honestly gone out of his head. "I'm not feeling it either, to be honest. I do wish I could hold you, though. Offer you some sort of comfort. I think you're brilliant, Red. Don't let what that knob head did make you not believe in yourself."

"Tell me a story, Harry. Let me just listen to you…being you."

Harry frowned, trying to think of something. "Oh, all right. Let me tell you about this one time my godfather tried to help me fix his motorbike. He has one, or, he did. I sort of messed it up, and now he keeps it as a trophy to my complete daftness. First, what you have to understand is that I am not mechanically inclined. At all. Complete thumbs. As Sirius says, it's a minor miracle I can work the dishwasher…"

Harry launched into the old familiar tale of how, when he was 14, he thought it'd be cool to ride Sirius's broken motorbike and had taken it upon himself to fix it, without any help from anyone else. Until Sirius had come into the garage and found his motorbike in a million pieces.

Harry could soon tell Red was feeling better by the way she kept laughing, and he felt cheered. The heavy emotions they'd conjured up soon seem to disappear into the night, and they chatted for longer than they ever had before. And when they said goodnight, he could tell she was her usual cheeky self. They hung up, and Harry smiled to himself as he let his eyes close. He was tired but sated with a sense of well-being and a budding feeling of happiness.

o-o-o-o-o