Mrs. Weasley's edict had lasted less than two days. That first night, Harry and Ginny had willingly gone to their own beds, though neither had made any attempt to sleep. The next morning they both made their way to the kitchen as soon as they heard Mrs. Weasley stir. The entire day passed in a sleepy haze before they returned to their own beds once more that night. Unable to fight the exhaustion any longer, both had fallen asleep.
Harry was woken not much later by Ron. It was a good thing, as he'd been having a nightmare that Voldemort had managed to lure Ginny out of Grimmauld Place and was torturing her somewhere he didn't recognize. He had wasted no time in shoving Ron aside and thundering down the stairs to make sure she was still in bed.
The harsh manner in which he had slammed the door to the girls' room open had woken Hermione, but he was far too focused to take notice of it. All he could comprehend was that Ginny's bed was empty, the blanket and sheets strewn about as if there had been a struggle. His vision tunneled, his breath coming in short gasps as his stomach dropped to his feet. Ron and Hermione were speaking, but the sound wasn't penetrating the panic he felt.
One last hope had him launching himself out of the room and down the stairs again once more. Between the stories Ginny had told him and the journal entries of he had read, he knew how she and Sirius had become closer talking over late night cups of tea in the kitchen. He prayed to every deity he could think of that she was there.
The relief he felt seeing her rush out of the kitchen with her wand raised was so acute his chest hurt from it. It was without thought to the fact that Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley were watching that he pushed the wand aside and pulled her to him in an embrace. She was there, safe and sound, and nothing else mattered.
It was only the worry in her voice as she asked what had happened that made him pull back. Her face was drawn and pale, her eyes swollen and red as if she'd been crying. His hand had gone to her cheek, trying to angle it better toward the limited light of the stairwell. "Are you alright?" he had questioned, ignoring her question.
"Asks the guy who just came running down the stairs as if he were being chased by dementors," she responded, attempting to make a joke but falling short.
"I'm fine," he said immediately. "Now, anyway," he added quietly.
"Neither of you are fine," Mrs. Weasley interjected, reminding him that they had an audience. She stood beside Ron and Hermione, all three of them wearing concerned looks. He pulled back slightly as he felt the combined weight of their worried gazes, but not so far that he couldn't keep some physical contact with Ginny. "I found Ginny having a nightmare under a silencing charm. Who knows how long it would have gone on had I not checked on her," she continued, her voice heavy with emotion. "And Ron said you were as well."
Harry nodded silently. There was no use trying to deny or explain - Ron had obviously shared what had happened while he was preoccupied with Ginny. Ginny slipped closer to him and he wrapped his arm around her automatically.
Mrs. Weasley's head tilted up slightly and she sniffed. The light caught her eyes as she moved, glinting as it illuminated the unshed tears in her eyes. She nodded to herself before saying in a thick voice, "Everyone should go back to bed. Ron and Hermione, go on back to your rooms. Ginny and Harry, wait for a moment while I get you some tea."
Mrs. Weasley had been quiet while she prepared the tea, and they stayed silent as well, just basking in the fact that they were together and fine. Finally she joined them at the table, heaved a sigh, and gave them permission to return to sleeping in their room together, so long as she could always have access to check in on them. They both readily agreed, and the nightmares were thankfully a thing of the past once more. The difficulty of covering up his morning erection and trying to be inconspicuous about his morning wank were a small price to pay and entirely worth the comfort of sleeping beside her each night.
Over two weeks had passed, and now - two days before Harry's birthday - they all took a trip to Diagon Alley to go shopping. Ginny, who had along with Harry finally moved her things into their room, had been complaining about her wardrobe each morning with increasing vehemence. While Harry didn't mind look at her in the snug clothing, he could understand how it annoyed her when they were training.
Training was part of the new routine they had established with Tonks, Bill, and Fleur. It was refreshing and exciting, but also exhausting. Their performance surpassed what their trainers expected by a long-shot; he was fast and packed a significant amount of power into his spells, while Ginny performed magic far beyond her years almost effortlessly with her new wand. His physical endurance was greater than hers, but his spells grew weaker as their practice duels progressed. Ginny grew physically tired before he did, but never seemed to tire magically. Bill had attributed it to the Black magic she now possessed, claiming she had access to a deep reserve of magic now and the ability to quickly regenerate what was lost.
What Harry hadn't shared with anyone, not even Ginny because of how ludicrous it sounded, was that he was certain he was borrowing from the Black magic as well. He'd always been able to push through the magical exhaustion whenever his life was on the line, but these practice duels were more like his classes at school that lacked the proper sense of danger to motivate his magic to keep going. Despite this, whenever his magic started flagging during training, he got a second wind that undeniably felt like Ginny. He knew it made sense, given what Dumbledore had showed them of their magical connection, but it felt too personal to talk about with anyone besides Ginny and too embarrassing to tell her.
Regardless of how well they were doing, he and Ginny still fell into bed every night completely spent and woke early to begin again. While they kept busy with that, Ron had taken to working part time for Fred and George. Hermione, having exhausted all the research she could do, had returned to her own home to spend two weeks with her parents before rejoining them at Grimmauld Place just yesterday.
There was no lack of funding between them, so Ginny had successfully cajoled them all into shopping with her, chaperoned under Mrs. Weasley's insistence by Bill and Fleur. Harry suspected that Mrs. Weasley was rather eager to be rid of the other woman, as Fleur had taken to spending large amounts of time at Grimmauld Place since her engagement to Bill had been announced to the family. Given the way Mrs. Weasley had suddenly become so protective again after the incident with Dumbledore, he considered himself lucky that she allowed them to go with only two minders.
Dumbledore was still something of a puzzle. He had been so insistent that night that getting Slughorn was a priority, but had sent an owl the day after they'd seen him saying he had lost Slughorn's trail. They hadn't heard from him since, and Ginny was becoming increasingly annoyed with his absence.
She seemed to be increasingly annoyed with a lot of things recently, which is why he was currently dragging Ron out of the clothing shop the girls had spent the last hour perusing when he had resisted Ginny's offers to buy him anything. Ron didn't mean anything by it, but it was obvious that Ginny was hurt by the refusal. She didn't express pain the way other girls did with tears though - she simply got angry. Hoping to avoid a public blow-up, Harry quickly dragged Ron out of the dress shop to Fred and Geroge's shop a few doors down. He wanted to talk to him about it before he said something stupid that would hurt her, but they never seemed to have a moment alone.
It seemed now was not the time either. Neville, who Ginny regularly invited to join them whenever Ron and Hermione were around too, followed them, much to his dismay. He didn't blame him for not wanting to hang around with the girls, but was still annoyed that the boy had been around far too frequently as of late for Harry's liking.
Ginny was right to include him. He knew that - Neville had been kind enough to let them use the dueling room at Longbottom Manor for their training, after all - but he didn't like it. Maybe it would have been different if Luna were around too, but she was still off in pursuit of some wild creature with her father. With just the five of them though, Ginny spent far too much time talking to Neville. It felt like he was always around at this point. It didn't help that he always seemed to have a stupid smirk on his face when Harry was feeling most annoyed with him.
Bill had followed them to the shop, but let them wander when they entered the store. Ron was immediately swept up by the twins to talk about their latest idea, leaving Harry behind with Neville. It didn't improve his resentment. Nor did the way Neville grabbed his arm and dragged him off to a quiet corner of the store.
"What the hell?" Harry asked in irritation, shaking his arm free. Neville was staring at him oddly, his expression one of resolve. "What is your problem?"
"I don't have one," he said calmly. "But you do, and it's about time we talk about it."
"I do not," Harry replied stiffly. He tried to walk around him and into the main store, but Neville pushed him back.
"You do," he insisted. A small smile slipped out as he continued, "As entertaining as it has been to see you acting like this, it's gone far enough, mate. Ginny is starting to worry. You've gotta know, I'm not interested in her," he said clearly. Harry narrowed his eyes, both at the other boy's attitude and in suspicion. "I mean, she's wonderful - don't get me wrong - but we're just friends. We always have been, I promise."
Harry gave him a hard look. Ginny was beautiful and smart and funny. She practically glowed with life. He couldn't understand how anyone close enough to see those parts of her wouldn't like her.
"Seriously?!" Neville said in complete exasperation. He tossed his head back and stared at the sky as if asking for Divine help and sighed heavily before looking back at Harry. Harry thought he heard him mutter, "...both idiots, I swear." He shook his head and looked back at Harry. "Even if I did like her, Ginny is head over heels for you. Always has been. Everyone knows that. How do you not?"
"Was," Harry correctly firmly. "She was." He shook his head sadly. "She's not anymore. She got over that a long time ago."
Neville groaned. "What is wrong with you two?" He grabbed Harry firmly by the shoulders, refusing to let go even when Harry squirmed. "Listen to me," he said strongly. "I am certain that Ginny is in love with you, as in currently, as in at this exact moment. The same as you are with her." Harry tried to sputter a denial, but Neville squeezed his shoulders and said, "Stop being a damn coward and do something about it."
Despite having understood what his feelings for her meant for weeks - despite just barely refraining from kissing her several times - he had yet to attempt to initiate a romantic relationship. It seemed like she liked him back. They were in almost constant physical contact; she touched him as often as he touched her, perhaps even more. But he knew Ginny was like that - she casually touched a lot of people, he noticed this with particular dismay in regards to Neville - though it was new that she included him in her habit.
He wanted more, of course, but would rather spend his life pining for what could be and be able to enjoy what they did have, than risk losing her presence entirely. More than anything, he was terrified admitting his feels would mean scaring her off. With how close they had become, he wasn't sure he could stand a lack of her in his life. That fear had repeatedly drained him of all courage.
Feeling frustrated with the whole thing. Harry scowled at Neville when he was finally released. "She hasn't said anything," he argued.
Neville looked at him like he was questioning his mental faculties. "Ginny spent years with her feelings for you exposed and mocked without gaining anything in return. Why the hell would she say anything now?"
Harry's arguments disappeared. That was true. Her brothers, Malfoy, even the general student population who had witnessed the singing Valentine her first year had all been aware of and laughed at her feelings for him. If he was too afraid to say anything, wouldn't it be worse for her, given all her past experiences? Having feelings for him had never done her any good in the past.
Having your feelings exposed was embarrassing, something he had learned firsthand recently. Their first Occlumency lesson with Fleur had been the day after the first night Ginny and Harry spent apart - the night they had slept only a few hours together before effectively waking up at three in the morning. His attempt at shielding his mind had been an utter and complete failure, and Fleur had immediately waltzed into his thoughts and seen how desperately he longed for nothing more than to be curled around Ginny in their bed. She had the decency not to say anything, but the knowing look in her eye had been enough.
He didn't think she would say anything to Bill - in fact she had assured them both that they could trust her to keep their secrets - but that didn't much matter, because he was certain Bill already knew. He was fairly confident Bill had suspected the first night they spoke to him following the news of the betrothal that Harry's feelings were more than mere friendship. Even worse, the look Bill had given him the next day when he had hidden under the cloak to hide his growing erection suggested Bill knew what was going on. He'd made several veiled comments since - though none of them threatening - that had confirmed Harry's belief.
Now Neville had just called him out. Was it really that obvious?
"But how do I - what do I even- when?" Harry stumbled weakly through his questions. It suddenly seemed very daunting. Ginny was amazing, how could he ask anything of her? Cho hadn't ever meant even a fraction of what Ginny now did, and he'd needed to by guided to asking her out like a horse led to water. How was he supposed to -
Neville's laughter broke him out of his spiral. He glared at the other boy in annoyance, causing him to raise his hands placating. "Hey - don't get upset with me because you're making it harder than it has to be. Just buy the girl something nice and tell her you like her. It's not that hard." His face turned thoughtful and he added, "Well, not too nice. It's Ginny. She wouldn't thank you for that."
No. Ginny definitely isn't most girls, he thought. She was tough as nails, not frilly like Lavender or Parvati. Just last week they had been practicing apparating within the confines of Grimmauld Place under the supervision of Tonks and Bill. She had splinched herself - rather badly, as Harry had seen the bone of her ankle - but she hadn't cried or screamed at all. Harry's heart had been in his throat at the sight, but she had simply grit her teeth while Tonks went to work repairing the damage and flipped-off Bill as he berated her for her lack of determination. She wasn't going to agree to go out with him because he bought her something shiny or sweet.
Neville gave him a pat on the shoulder and slid by Harry's still form and back onto the shop floor. Harry himself followed in a bit of a daze, stopping randomly as he turned the idea over in his mind.
He knew he wanted to ask - that he had wanted to ask for some time now - but he wasn't sure it was the right thing. If Neville was wrong, then he'd be putting unfair pressure on her and could damage the partnership they already had. If Neville was right…
Neville broke him out of his thoughts with a tap on the shoulder. "Hey, mate," he said in amusement, "I know you're worried, but I don't think a love potion is the answer." He gestured to the bin in front of where Harry was standing - it was indeed filled with love potions that Harry hadn't noticed at all, consumed as his mind had been - before continuing, "You and Ginny are practically a couple anyway. Besides, Harry Potter looking at love potions is drawing a little too much attention." Neville gestured at the other nearby customers and Harry realized with some embarrassment that they appeared to have been watching him; several of them looked away quickly and began whispering when he turned in their direction.
He quickly stepped away from the display, but it wasn't embarrassment fueling his movements. It was what Neville had said about he and Ginny being a couple. Mainly, that despite its outward appearance, their relationship was not that of a couple.
Harry had seen enough pictures of his parents, heard enough stories about them, and even witnessed enough of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to know that the connection between a true, loving couple was almost a palpable thing. What he and Ginny had was a partnership. Though she trusted him, touched him, and looked at him differently than she did everyone else, he desperately wanted to see the open devotion and love in her eyes that he had seen in the pictures of his mother looking at his father. Even more so, he wanted to be free to return it.
He had the bond, so he knew he couldn't lose her, but he didn't actually have her yet either. Neville was wrong. They were just two people with a connection working together. That wasn't what he wanted. He wanted it to be real. Despite all he had been through, he had never in his life felt such an acute desire to love and to be loved as he did when he thought of her. Every other time he'd felt that way, he'd longed for his dead parents, which he never could hope to regain. This was different though. He had a chance here, if only he were brave enough to take it.
Purpose and determination settled over him. Neville was right about one thing, he had been a coward before. He was a damn Gryffindor - he could do this. He was set on doing it, in fact, and it seemed imperative that he do it now.
"I'm going back to Ginny," he declared. "Do you know where Ron is?"
"Last I saw, he was up at the counter with the twins," Neville replied. He still looked faintly amused, but more than anything his expression demonstrated approval.
"Right. I'm going to let him know I'm leaving, then find Bill. I'll see you later, mate."
He made his way toward the middle of the store, where he found the eldest Weasley standing beside the shop counter, watching as Ron stood shoulder to shoulder with Fred and George, each assisting a different customer. Harry was surprised to see the store had become crowded, the line of customers waiting to make their purchases now rather long, and that Ron must have stepped in to help. When Bill spotted him, he eyed him carefully, "Everything alright, Harry? You look…"
"I'm fine," he said quickly. "But I'm ready to go back to the dress shop. You ready?"
At Bill's nod he called over the cacophony of customers and display sounds, "Hey, Ron!" His friend cast him a distracted glance, so he continued, "Bill and I are leaving. You good here?" Ron didn't look away from his customer, but nodded none-the-less.
It was fortunate for them that Bill had long legs, because Harry kept the pace quick as he walked with purpose. Not that it made much difference. Ginny was still in the changing room when they arrived, Fleur standing outside it hushing Ginny's complaints. She sounded exasperated, but Harry thought the look in her eyes was that of amusement, particularly once she caught sight of Harry and Bill.
"-completely ridiculous. Where would I even wear this?" he heard Ginny ask in a frustrated tone "Where did Hermione go? She'd agree with me."
Fleur placed a finger to her lips, an order for silence, when he and Bill were close enough before raising her voice in response."Hermione ran into some friends of yours and went to the bookshop. Would you like me to fetch them as well?"
"No!"
"Let's see it then!" she demanded. "The sooner you allow it, the sooner we shall be done here. It is almost time for your appointment."
"Then just give me back my clothes so I can get ready!" Ginny snapped back.
"Non!" Fleur said firmly. "Had you not spent so much time looking for things for your mother, we would have had plenty of time. We could have been done minutes ago if you would just let me see it on."
"I can't get it tied," was the belligerent reply. Harry smiled, envisioning the grumpy look that was no doubt distorting her features at the moment.
Fleur scoffed and slipped into the dressing room. He heard Ginny's squawk of indignation and Fleur tittering in French, before saying in English, "There is a simple spell for this. A young woman your age should know these things."
"You've met me, and my mother. In what universe do you think I have ever worn something like this? Corseted bodices are completely insane, why would anyone want - ". Her diatribe was cut off by an audible gasp.
Fleur sounded rather smug when she said, "You are nearly a woman now, Ginevra. It is high time you look like it." A moment later, Fleur walked out, pulling a reluctant Ginny behind her toward the pedestal surrounded by mirrors.
Harry's jaw dropped. He knew he must have looked like an idiot, but Ginny was standing there in a dress that made her look… he wasn't even sure what exactly, just that he was completely blown away by it.
It was fitted and smooth over the torso, highlighting every curve at once without looking unchaste. The hem was looser and far shorter than any other robes he'd ever seen her in, the fabric shimmering as it moved. All the other small details were lost under the impression that she looked magical in it. There really was no other description he could come up with the describe the fluid way it shifted with her every move, or the way it refused to let him look away.
As he stared in awe at her standing on the pedestal twisting and turning to look at her dress from every angle with a pleasantly surprised look on her face, the normal longing he felt to be closer to her intensified. If he had just talked to her already, perhaps they'd be in a real relationship now, and he'd be free to step up behind her and wrap his arms around her.
A fantasy formed in his mind of doing just that, his head bowing down to whisper in her ear all sorts of ridiculous things - things that he was sure in reality he would never be able to say out loud, but seemed appropriate for a fantasy - but he wasn't allowed to even try to do that yet.
"Harry!' Ginny said in surprise, straightening up and spinning around when her eyes finally caught his in the mirror. "Oh no. Is it time to go already? Am I that behind?" she asked quickly, climbing down and rushing back into the changing room. Harry was sad to see her go.
"No," he called over the partition. "You're fine. I'm early actually, but we're getting close."
Her heard her moving quickly as she responded, "Crap. I really wanted to get Neville's present while he was busy. Wait - he's not here too, is he?"
"Just me," Harry replied, hoping he didn't sound annoyed. The amused look Fleur had said that perhaps he did.
"Oh good. Maybe we still have time. I was wondering if maybe we could do a combined gift," Ginny said in relief. Her tone became annoyed as she continued, "Damn it. Fleur, I don't know how reverse whatever you did."
Fleur provided her with the appropriate spell good-naturedly, while Harry ruminated on them giving Neville's gift together. If things went well, perhaps it would be just the first of a lifetime of gifts given as a couple. He shook the thought away to listen to Ginny's idea.
"...but they're really rare, which must mean they're expensive, so I was thinking we could get him a _ since the two plants have a symbiotic relationship. This way if he does keep it with his Mimbulus Mimbletonia, he won't struggle to take care of both. I don't know if we have time now though. What do you think?"
Harry had missed most of it, but he trusted her judgement. "Sure. That is, do we have time?" he asked, directing the question at Bill.
Bill looked at his watch and pursed his lips. "Probably not."
"Ce n'est pas un problème," Fleur said quickly. "I will finish everything here and can go when you are at Gringotts. I need to collect your friends as well."
"Are you sure?" Ginny asked, as she stepped back out in her more normal, but still nice, robes.
"Oui. It is best not to be late for a meeting with Ragnok."
"Okay," Ginny agreed, handing over a bag of money from their previous trip to Gringotts. "I'll get some more when we're at the bank, in case that isn't enough. I appreciate it."
They made it to Gringotts early, but it was just as well. Harry was consumed with how to approach Ginny, even though he knew he should be thinking about the meeting.
In truth, he wasn't nearly as excited about it as he had been when he first set it up a few weeks ago. Since then, he had found out the generalities of what his parents' will said from Sirius's journal, as Sirius had been one of the witnesses that signed it. He had even delivered it to the Goblins himself after his parents had gone into hiding.
Even the stories detailed in the journal had given him insight into what to expect. He had heard enough about Potter Manor (which was allegedly still being held in his name), it's layout, and its furnishings that he almost felt like he could picture it, especially given it was visible in the background of numerous pictures that Sirius had included. He knew he could expect to see a lot of the valuables Sirius had mentioned in the vault too.
His previous excitement to see and actually touch things that had a tangible connection to his past, to the family he couldn't ever remember knowing, hadn't abated, but now he was also picturing passing these connections on to the family he hoped to create. He and Ginny had spent countless hours talking about his family's ancestral home, imagining what it looked like and how wonderful it sounded growing up there based on Sirius's stories. Now, he couldn't help picturing the two of them building a life together there too.
His thoughts had been running rampant with idealized fantasies - he hadn't even talked to her yet for Merlin's sake - and he found himself grateful when Ragnok appeared to bring them back to his office. The goblin director seemed pleased to find them already waiting when the appointment time came, which Harry took as an indication that the meeting would go well. No sooner had they been seated in the bright office and the greetings completed had Ragnok begun.
"Before we begin addressing the Potter account, there is something I would like to warn you both about in person. Under normal circumstances, a goblin-certified letter would have been delivered to you bearing this information, but the current security provisions on your place of residence prevented that," he said. Both his voice and features looked unpleased, but he made no further comment. "The current Minister of Magic has requisitioned numerous documents from Gringotts, some of which concern the Black account. It should be noted that nothing can be done to prevent the bank from releasing copies to the Ministry under the circumstances."
"Thank you for letting us know, Director," Harry said politely. "We were aware this was a possibility, actually, and were surprised it hadn't happened yet."
"Gringotts has thirty days to process requests such as these under our agreements with your Ministry, though we usually try to release them as soon as possible to avoid prolonging the process," Ragnok said with distaste. "In this case, policy dictated that the documents be withheld until you could be informed, as their release will expose personal information in the form of your bonding. Had this meeting not been scheduled within the thirty day period, Gringotts would have made the effort to send someone to contact you in person."
"We appreciate your respect for our privacy. Please don't let us create any problems for you, though. Feel free to release the documents at any point. We understand," Harry said. He felt awkward trying to keep up the formal interaction, but he held on to the thought that the smoother this meeting went, the faster he could get back to Grimmauld Place and talk with Ginny.
Despite how distracted he had been earlier, a lump still formed in his throat when Ragnok pulled out the original copy of the will. His parents had both handled that document; more than that, they had both created it together, thinking of him as they did it. He knew from the journal that his father had hastily scribbled it in his own hand just before they had gone into hiding under the Fidelius and that both his parents had signed it and marked the parchment with a bloody fingerprint each, not wanting its authenticity to be called into question since they couldn't deliver it to Gringotts themselves.
Harry and Ginny were both given a copy, but he couldn't bring himself to read the actual words. His eyes were glued to the document, studying his father's handwriting. The letters weren't all that similar to his, but the haphazard way they blended together and the slant of the writing was similar enough to his that it had him entranced. Ginny must have noticed, because she placed her copy on the desk and slid closer to him, lending him her strength as she took his hand and read from his copy as well.
He couldn't help wondering if his parents had sat the same way as they wrote it.
Ragnok began to read from the will, offering no surprises. In addition to the trust vault that he was already aware of, his parents had owned Potter Manor (the furnishings of which had been removed and placed in the family vault for safe-keeping when they fled), the cottage in Godric's Hollow, and the large, full family vault itself. They had left him everything, to be held in trust by Sirius - who had been listed as his primary guardian - until he came of age. When they finally reached the end, Harry saw his parents' signatures for the first time.
As with his writing, his father's signature had the same sloppy style as his. His mother's was entirely new to him, though she looped the "y" at the end of her name the same way he did. His chest ached looking at the two signatures that should have been familiar to him had his life not been torn apart by the madman that fancied himself Lord Voldemort.
Ginny's head rested against his shoulder, a silent offer of support. He inhaled deeply, her comforting scent helping to settle him, and turned his attention back to Ragnok who was offering him a quill. He needed to sign the will to acknowledge he had read it and accepted it, as well as several other documents to accept the transfer into his name.
Harry had just finished signing everything and been handed the Potter ring when it occurred to him. "Wait," he said, "why was I the only one signing or getting a Potter ring? Shouldn't Ginny have as well?"
"Miss Black, though your bond-mate, was not bonded to you at the time of your parents' deaths, and is not entitled to anything you acquired before the bonding," Ragnok responded factually. "Nor is she technically a Potter, yet. You are bound by the Black magic, which entitles you to that account, but it does not work in reverse."
"That's ridiculous," Harry said quickly. He knew that as the family of greater status, Ginny was supposed to wear the Black ring as a sign of the betrothal, but if Gringotts considered them married, she should have equal access to what was his. Ragnok's insulted look had him backtracking. "I just mean - not that the policy is ridiculous - just that Ginny and I share all the Black inheritance, and we should share the Potter one too."
"Harry," Ginny interrupted with a hand on his arm, "it's fine. This is your family's legacy - ".
"And I want to share it with you," he said sincerely. "We're a family, Gin. Together, right?"
The look she gave him had his heart speeding up. It was tender and soft, but full of meaning. "You're right." She hesitated briefly, "About the Potter ring though… I don't think I should take that. Everyone will think… well, it means something, you know?" Harry did know - he found it meant a great deal to him that she wear it - but he knew that wasn't what she was getting at. Everyone would assume the engagement was real then. "Even you wearing the Black ring will be a big deal if anyone sees it, but it's been necessary…"
"That is another matter that I had hoped to get to. My readings indicate that the ritual has fully completed and your magic stabilized. There will be no adverse effects if it is removed from this point forward," Ragnok interjected.
Harry wanted to be upset with the interruption, but Ginny suddenly looked so thrilled that he couldn't bring himself to regret it. She was practically beaming as she pulled off Walburga's ring and stuffed it in her pocket, wiggling her now bare hand.
Ragnok let out a displeased sound and almost growled, "While it is no longer necessary that you do so, it is accepted tradition that you wear the ring as representative of the Black family. Goblin crafted rings such as these bear much power and serve as a symbol for your position."
Ginny quickly dropped her exuberance and looked abashed. Harry slipped the Black signet ring from his hand and onto her finger in its place and smiled at her in reassurance. It seemed to give her some confidence back.
She looked contritely at Ragnok. "I'm sorry, Director Ragnok. I meant no offense to the Goblin craftsmanship, nor did I mean to diminish my title. The ring of the previous Lady Black simply brings back some bad memories, and I am very relieved to be able to wear the traditional version instead."
Ragnok still looked displeased and made no move to accept her apology, so Harry cut in, "Can we add Ginny to my accounts, sir? I want to do that."
"It can be done," the goblin said with a sigh. "I will have the documents drawn up in a few minutes," Ragnok said, placing a form he had been filling out in his outgoing tray. "In the meantime, we now have something else to discuss. Would you two like to combine the Black and Potter estates?"
Harry and Ginny looked at each other. As much as he felt connected to Ginny and wanted her to be a part of his family's legacy, it felt wrong to combine the Black and Potter belongings. Ginny seemed to understand.
"I don't think we need to," she said. "Or that we should. At least not yet. You haven't even seen the Potter vault yet. We should keep it separate at least until you've had a chance to sort it all out."
"I think so too," he agreed. "No, sir. We'll keep it separate for now," he told Ragnok.
"Very well," he replied. To Harry he seemed relieved, and he wondered if the bank profited off service fees if the accounts were separate. He didn't ask though, and Ragnok moved on to the next item on the agenda. "Now, I would advise that you both make a will."
"Mr. Potter, we will make one for the Potter account first, then sign the documents adding Miss Black to your accounts. After which, for expediency, perhaps you would like to visit your vault while Miss Black and I work on the will for the Black account?"
He looked at Ginny to see if she cared. She lifted one shoulder and answered the unasked question. "I really don't mind, and I really would like to be back before dinner. You know how Mum gets."
He smiled and couldn't resist making fun of her a bit. "Sure, you're worried about your Mum and not just plain hungry." She wrinkled her nose at him, but refrained from sticking out her tongue like she normally would. Remembering himself, he turned to Ragnok, "Yes, sir. That works."
"Excellent," the goblin said, though he looked far from amused. "Now…"
Creating the will turned out to be rather simple. Harry simply left everything to Ginny, trusting that she would know how to best make sure the people he loved were taken care of. If Ginny should die before him - he had to admit that his heart rate spiked and his stomach turned as he thought about it - then his estate was to be divided equally amongst all living members of the Weasley family, Hermione, and Remus. Ginny agreed her will would resemble something close to his. It seemed like no time had passed before he was being led out of the room by Griphook and headed down to his family vault in one of the Goblin carts.
He didn't even notice the speed of the cart or the winding tracks as they headed down into the depths of Gringotts. He had unthinkingly leaned down to kiss Ginny on the cheek before leaving the room, and the look of surprise on her face as a blush spread across her cheeks was still fresh in his mind. He didn't know what made him do it, except that the thought that she wasn't gone, the possibility that they could have a future together, made him feel hopeful as well as grateful, and he needed to express it.
When he entered the vault, it was crowded with coins, furniture, and trunks that he assumed were filled with other valuables or heirlooms. He recognized a few pieces of furniture from the pictures Sirius had left him, and found himself drawn to them. One particular loveseat caught his attention and he went and sat in it.
His parents had sat in this chair together, looking young, happy, and desperately in love as they held his infant form between them in one of the photos. In it, his mother's eyes had been practically glued to him, except for a brief moment when she had looked up at his father with wonder and contentment plastered all over her shining face. His father's gaze had shifted back and forth between Harry and his wife, adoration clear there as he leaned in and kissed them both on the head over and over again.
Sitting here where his parents had sat, he felt his longing for a future like that burn brighter. He had always wondered what had possessed his parents to think that having a child with the war on was a good idea - and given his particular role in this war, he couldn't imagine doing it himself - but he had never in his life known the happiness that they did in that one photo.
Everything suddenly clicked into place with perfect clarity. He now knew that one day, after this whole mess with Voldemort was finished - and if Ginny was right and he won - that he absolutely wanted to have what his parents had. And he wanted it with Ginny, if she'd have him. He could see it so clearly, those children he had first envisioned by accident all those weeks ago while listening to Bill.
He stood and left the vault quickly, full of purpose. The things in the vault had been sitting there for well over a decade now and would still be waiting when he came back, hopefully when he could bring Ginny and they could explore it together. Right now, though, Ginny was waiting, and he was finally ready.
Ginny was literally waiting for him, talking to Bill at the top of the ramp when his cart arrived, her red hair shining like a beacon. She spotted him almost immediately as he came into view, her brows lifting in surprise. "That was quick. Was everything alright?"
"Fine," he said, climbing out and heading to her side quickly. He reached out for her hand as soon as she was within range. She accepted it, but he saw a shadow of confusion cross her face. She'll understand soon. "We can come back another time, when we can both go. We haven't been through the Black things yet either."
Her face cleared and she smiled a bit. "I agree. I was just saying that to Bill. I really need to take a look, but I wanted to wait for you."
The warmth he always felt around her intensified. He could do this. "Yeah," he said smiling. "But let's get back now. It must be getting close to supper by now."
She agreed happily and they followed Bill back to the lobby. Fleur was waiting with the others outside the bank. Harry was relieved that they all seemed to be ready to get back and no one dawdled. It was less than ten minutes later that they were back at the Leaky Cauldron, bidding Neville farewell before returning to Grimmauld Place.
Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen with Mr. Weasley having a discussion when they arrived, the dinner preparations clearly having been abandoned at some earlier point. Neither of the Weasley parents seemed upset, however - in fact they seemed mostly pleased - so Harry wasn't worried. More than anything, he was grateful they were preoccupied. He had been bolstering his courage the whole way back from Gringotts and needed to talk to Ginny before his nerves caught up with him.
Unfortunately, Mrs. Weasley immediately turned her attention to the arriving group. "Hello, dears. Did everything go alright?" She smiled at them, but Harry didn't miss the slightly anxious glance she gave Bill and Fleur.
"Everything was fine, Mum. Not a single issue," Bill said in reassurance.
"Oui, Molly," Fleur added. Harry say Molly's face shift for just a moment, but it was quickly covered. Things had gotten better between Mrs. Weasley and Fleur - mostly thanks to Ginny - but there was still some lingering tension. "In fact, we got bought many things. Would you like to see?"
"That sounds lovely, Fleur," she said, "but right now Arthur and I need to talk to Ginny and Harry. Ron, Hermione, perhaps you would be willing to carry the bags upstairs?"
Hermione and Ron both answered in the affirmative, but Fleur cut them off. "I would be happy to do it, Molly. I'm sure these two have their own things to put away," she said serenely. Molly's eye may have twitched, but then she nodded.
When everyone had trailed up the stairs and it was just the four of them seated at the table, Ginny asked a bit anxiously, "What's happened now?" Their hands met beneath the table as they reached for each other simultaneously.
Mrs. Weasley's smile put him at ease a bit, but not enough that he was willing to release his hold on Ginny. There was something in Mr. Weasley's expression that was not as pleased as his wife's. "Nothing bad, Ginny-dear," she said, patting her daughter's other hand from across the table. "Your father has been promoted! Head of the Office for Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects!" she proclaimed happily.
Mr. Weasley sighed beside her. "Molly, it's not that impressive." She tried to interrupt but he continued, "Scrimgeour is looking to bring us closer to the fold. Yes, they need this department and all hands on deck - people are frightened and being taken advantage of by those who are claiming to offer them protection - but he also wants to keep me close, as he knows how close we are to Harry. He's even offered Ministry protection for the Burrow."
"Did you take it?" Ginny asked curiously.
Her father nodded. "I did. It makes sense to allow it. No harm can come from working with the Minister, at least not as much as could come from making him an enemy."
"Are you sure, Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked. "The Burrow is already protected. You don't have to leave your job if you don't want to."
Mr. Weasley smiled kindly at him. "Thank you, Harry. I'm certain the new position is where I need to be right now. There is enough overlap that I should be able to assist with any Muggle-baiting cases while also looking out for predatory sales in the Wizarding community. I may not be an auror, but false protections could get people killed and helping put a stop to that is a job worth doing."
Harry could appreciate the sentiment. Mr. Weasley had always done what he felt was right as far as he knew - something he had instilled in his children as well - and it was no surprise now that he would make the choice to protect those who were most vulnerable now. He also understood his point about the new minister. Making an enemy out of Scrimgeour would just make it more difficult to accomplish anything of value.
The four of them spent a little longer discussing the pros and cons of returning to the Burrow, but Harry was mostly preoccupied during that time. His determination was starting to fade, anxiety and doubt taking its place. It could change everything…
"... right Harry?" Ginny asked, squeezing his hand.
Harry tried to think back to what she had just said, but it was of no use. He just nodded, trusting her judgement and hoping that was the right answer.
"Are you certain you're alright with staying here?" Mr. Weasley asked, providing Harry with the topic of conversation. "I know it must be difficult to be here, for you especially."
"It's fine," Harry assured him. It was hard, but it had gotten easier of late. He felt closer to Sirius here than he ever had before. It wasn't quite home home, but he and Ginny had been slowing turning it into one, clearing out the old fading furniture and replacing as much of it as possible. "No matter what protection the Ministry is offering, it can't be as good as the Fidelius here." He couldn't help casting a glance at Ginny as he added, "Keeping safe is more important than comfort." He looked back at Ginny's father and saw understanding in his eyes.
"I agree," he replied. "It's a bit difficult managing from here, but it's worth it."
The conversation wrapped up quickly after that. Ginny and Harry were thankfully dismissed without being asked to help finish dinner and quickly made their escape. Harry's nerves kept him on edge the entire way up the stairs.
When they entered their room, the bags filled with their purchases were sitting on the bed, no longer shrunken for transport. Fleur seemed to have arranged them so that Harry's things were on one side and Ginny's on the other, but what caught his attention was the dress hanging on the bedpost. It was the same one Ginny had insisted was not worth purchasing earlier. It drew Ginny's attention as well.
"I can't believe she bought it anyway." She shook her head in annoyance as she trailed a finger down it. "It's beautiful, of course, but completely unnecessary. I have absolutely no use for such a thing."
Harry, unable to help himself, copied her action, lifting the hem and enjoying how the fabric slid through his fingers. It was cold now, but his imagination was running wild with the thought of how it would feel as her heat leaked through it with his arm wrapped around her waist.
"Let's go on a date," he blurted without thought, the fantasy he had earlier when he first saw her in the dress now playing in his mind once more.
She pulled back as if he's slapped her. "Excuse me? What?"
He wanted to curse his stupidity, but he couldn't take it back now. The shuttered, suspicious look on her face had anxiety clawing at his chest. He grabbed her hand to hold her there for fear she'd run away. Until this moment, he hadn't realized that for weeks now he'd been using the gesture to wordlessly say, "I'm here. I'm with you. Stay with me." It was exactly what he needed her to know right now. He had to make her understand.
"I mean it, Gin. Go on a date with me. A real date, somewhere you can wear the dress." He tried to joke to cover his nerves, "I've never been on a fancy date before - I'll probably be awkward and awful, but you'll still get a laugh."
She eyed him shrewdly, "Harry, I told you I didn't want to do all that." She shook her head. "I'm sorry this happened, but I'm not going to go out with you just because you feel like you have to, or because I'm your only option - "
She tried to pull back during her response, but he held her hand firmly to his chest. His pounding heart must have been obvious, but he was far too focused on making her understand to be worried about his nerves showing.
"No," he said shaking his head for emphasis. "That's not it at all. I wouldn't even consider dating anyone with… everything," he said lamely. He continued earnestly, his voice becoming tinged with desperation, "But I don't want you to say yes just because I'm your only option either. I… I can't imagine being interested in anyone else, bond or not. But I know it's different for you. That you had options, that you weren't interested in me anymore..." he trailed off as she let out a huff of air that could have been a laugh or a sound of annoyance and pulled her hand out of his grasp. The small space between them felt more like a wide valley he may tumble into.
"Harry," she said, her shoulders dropping as she shook her head again. His stomach plummeted at the dismissive gesture. When she looked up though, the look in her eyes wasn't pitying, but rather exasperated. "I've never not been interested in you. You just weren't an option." She waved her hand in a frustrated way and turned to pace the room, but Harry caught it and pulled her into him.
Relief swelled so great that he wasn't sure his feet were still planted. He might as well have been floating for how light he felt, but that didn't matter, because as soon as she was close enough, he cupped her face and pulled her lips to his.
It was blissful oblivion.
Nothing existed except for Ginny. She was warm and alive as ever tucked against him, their bodies perfectly aligned with her head tilted back as their mouths slid over one another. Her lips were smooth and sent a tingling sensation through him that increased with the amount of pressure. Harry was convinced he could happily stay like this forever.
He didn't think the feeling could get any better, until her fingers were tangling in his shirt and pulling him and the kiss deepened. Her breath now mingled with his, the taste of her so close that he couldn't hold back from slipping his tongue forward to try and catch it, a moan that could have belonged to either of them sounded when his found hers. He wanted to sink into the sound - his body pressing hers more firmly to his and his tongue following a mindless command to do it again, just so he could continue to hear it.
Sense returned when he felt her grip slacken and she was pushing at him instead of pulling. He immediately dropped his hands and pulled back. The throbbing he felt in his lower region highlighted that she had just been firmly up against it while he'd been snogging her, without permission. His face burned and he had to force himself to look at her.
She breathed heavily, the rise and fall of her chest the only concession to her straight-backed posture as she faced him. Her face was flushed as well, but not from embarrassment. Though she was looking at him through slightly narrowed eyes, he could still see they were bright with excitement and the pupils wide. She seemed to be emanating light, her mussed up hair - it saddened him that he couldn't recall if he had done it himself - forming a fiery halo around her head that intensified the impression. He was certain she had never looked more beautiful.
"Harry," she said. The tone in her voice did nothing to appease the ache he felt. She sounded as swept away and needy as he was feeling. Her voice took on a hint of wonder, "That was…" She trailed off and shook her head, before blowing out a deep breath and trying again. "Harry, we need to talk about this. We're - you and I - we can't just do this. This isn't - we're not two normal kids. You can't just kiss me like that if you're not sure, because I'm not someone you can just decide to walk away from if it doesn't work out."
"That was...?" he asked. A smile had started spreading across his face without his consent, and he took a step closer to her, relieved that she didn't back up even though she maintained her suspicious gaze. "Okay?" he pressed, as he slowly reached out and wrapped his hand around hers. She looked down and huffed a laugh. "Good?" he continued, as he gently closed the gap between them and brought their faces close enough for their lips to meet once more.
Ginny allowed his nonsense, her cheek even lifted up into a reluctant smile at one point. The smile fell and she pulled her head back when his nose brushed hers. "Harry," she said again, though this time in warning.
He groaned and leaned his forehead against hers. Not in a way that indicated he was pressing for more, just enough so that he didn't have to see her expression clearly. He hoped she wouldn't be able to see his either.
He didn't want to talk. He bungled everything up whenever he tried, but he knew he needed to. This was important to her. Hell, it was important to him, which is why he was reluctant to fuck it up.
"Gin," he began. His hand lifted on its own volition and tucked a tress of her multihued hair behind her ear, twirling it as it slipped between his fingers. The action, something both new and familiar filled him with a sense of contentment. It gave him the courage to continue, "You're the option I want, and I'm an option, if you want that, but only if you want it."
Hope slowly seemed to bloom on her face before the shuttered look returned. "I don't know, Harry. It's just- are you absolutely sure it's not the bonding?"
"Yes." Harry stated unequivocally. "You're beautiful and smart… and actually charming, unlike me, and funny. You not only love Quidditch but are damn good at it. And you're compassionate. You care. You love and miss Sirius as much as I do. You were there for me this summer and always have been, even when I didn't realize it." He took a deep breath, surprised by the torrent of words that he had just unleashed. "Even if the betrothal hadn't happened… even I couldn't be thick enough to miss all those things that make you brilliant."
She was biting her lip now, but her wide eyes shone with a hope that made him want to talk now. He wanted - needed - her to know how much this meant to him. He knew it was important that she understood.
He still had to force down his nerves and his voice was quiet as he elaborated, "When I think of you... Gin, it's like the future. And that's so... I can't even tell you. It's huge. I've never looked too far forward… life has always just been about surviving through until next time, and you... well, I want to live. With you. And a family- well, if you wanted, in the future maybe... Damn it! This isn't coming out - "
But he never had to explain all the ways in which he was inadequately explaining himself, because Ginny's hands were now in his hair, pulling him securely into her and he was once more lost in the blissful oblivion that was her. No sun penetrated the dark curtains of the room, but Harry felt a glowing warmth that felt like he and Ginny had been standing in its rays for several days by the time they pulled apart. After a moment of heavy breathing and shared air, she smiled at him widely.
"Okay," she said simply.
His eyes were lingering on her swollen lips and the taste of her still lingered on his tongue, distracting him. It took a moment for the word to sink in. He pulled back quickly and stared at her. "Okay?" he asked. "As in, you'll go out with me?"
She still looked slightly nervous, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, but the hope was stronger than before. She released the lip to say, "Yeah. I'll go out with you."
The smile that broke out across his face hurt his cheeks, but he fought it down before leaning in to kiss her again.