A/N: So this is the first chapter with actual new content in it; I decided that a few of Harry and Ginny's trysts needed a bit more detail. :) There will be other additions in the future. Enjoy and review!

Harry pressed his fingers to his temple, trying to massage away the pain. Three days after his accident his head was still sore, particularly as Ginny's healing charms had worn off completely. He shook his head and focused his attention back on Kingsley, who was discussing a series of odd incidents with his more senior Aurors.

". . . and the Cannons' assistant trainer has not been able to return to work yet," he was saying. "The team finally had to hire a replacement."

"What's he talking about?" Harry poked the Auror sitting next to him. "What happened to the Cannons' trainer?"

"Assistant trainer," Scott Meyers whispered back. "He was stung by a plant that arrived in a shipment of what was supposed to be tropical Sting-free roots – you know, a lot of players rub the sap on cuts and scrapes and things because it dries really fast. He reached his hand into the box and the next thing they knew, he was on the ground, unconscious. He's still in St. Mungo's and they haven't figured out what kind of plant stung him – it shriveled up immediately."

Harry frowned. There seemed to be more and more suspicious activity going on, and all of it centered around the country's professional Quidditch teams. As much as Harry didn't like the idea of Dark wizards stalking anyone, he especially wasn't happy that they had chosen to target Quidditch. He made a mental note to tell Ginny to be extra careful, and to keep her wand with her at all times, the next time he saw her.

He didn't know when that would be, though. The Harpies were still on their road trip, playing the Wimbourne Wasps in two days. Kingsley hadn't said anything about assigning anyone to safeguard the match and Harry wondered idly if he should volunteer. Then he'd be able to warn Ginny in person. Not that she needed warning, of course. Ginny could more than take care of herself. And himself, for that matter. Harry shivered just a bit in his robes, remembering.

It was probably not a good idea to go see Ginny right now, Harry reluctantly concluded. The upcoming match was an important one and she needed to be able to concentrate on playing, without any . . . distractions.

Although, Dark Wizards attacking are definitely a distraction she doesn't need either. He shifted in his seat, half a mind to ask Kingsley if he could work the Harpies' match, when the man began calling out assignments.

"Potter, Meyers, Singleton, you and trainees Gavin Sykes, Carey Daniels and Joseph Becker are assigned to the Harpies." Harry sighed in relief. He wouldn't have to ask. But Kingsley continued, the barest hint of a smirk on his face.

"That assumes, of course, that you can manage to spend more than two hours with them without getting hit by a Bludger or sprayed with poison, okay Potter?"

Harry blushed, wondering if Kingsley had any idea what else he'd gotten hit by in the past few days. He didn't think anyone knew about his and Ginny's "arrangement", and for both of their sakes, he wanted to keep it that way.

HPHPHPHPHP

Four weeks later, their "arrangement" had become something of a pleasant routine, Ginny thought to herself as she ran up and down the steps at the Harpies' stadium. For despite their busy schedules, having Harry assigned to the Harpies had resulted in quite a few opportunities for Harry and Ginny to "accidentally" run into each other. Even though none of her teammates were around, Ginny blushed as she remembered a recent run, this time to the upper reaches of the Tornado's stadium during another workout.

Ginny bent over to catch her breath. She was well ahead of the rest of her teammates, nearly halfway around the other side of the stadium from where they were all running slowly up and down the steps. Ginny had come out early with the intent of making the entire way around the stands instead of the twelve flights Gwenog had set, and so far, she was feeling good. She massaged one calf and was quietly counting how many rows she'd already run when she was suddenly grabbed from behind and felt a cloth thrown over her body. "It's me," said Harry's voice, low in her ear, and Ginny bit back her scream.

"Aren't you supposed to be patrolling the fields?" she mumbled. She didn't wait for an answer though, but helped Harry push her uniform bottoms and knickers down to her ankles.

"I'm checking to make sure no one has charmed any of the stands." Harry's breath was hot on her neck and Ginny could feel him fumbling behind her. "Or hidden anything under a bench." He pulled her against him. "Can you bend over? Just a little more?"

Ginny obliged, tugging Harry's Invisibility Cloak a little more firmly around them. It was a breezy day, but the Cloak hung snug against their bodies. "It's as if it wants us to have sex too," she giggled. A second later she gasped as Harry entered her.

"Of course it does," panted Harry. He thrust insistently into her and Ginny groaned.

"That feels so good, Harry," she said. She reached down and began teasing herself, feeling herself already spiraling out of control.

"Let me do that." Harry's hand replaced her own, even as he continued his rhythmic thrusting in and out."Wanna last a little longer," he muttered.

"Good luck with that," said Ginny. She forced her voice to remain casual. "Gwenog is running along with the team. She looked to be heading in this direction. And she'll probably make it here soon."

"Oh god," said Harry. He rocked harder. "Going . . . to come," he said heavily.

"Not without me," said Ginny. "Hold on . . . just a little . . . there!" She groaned with her climax and felt Harry jerk behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her back, panting.

"How long . . . until . . . Gwenog . . . gets here?" he managed.

Ginny snorted. "She won't. I saw her in the gym. She decided to work out with weights today. I just like how excited you get when you think we're going to get caught."

Harry squeezed her lightly. "Minx," he said.

Yet another time she'd straddled him on one of the benches in the trainer's hut when he'd come in while Ginny was having a cramp massaged out of her back after practice. Harry had been tracking adulterated potion ingredients and was examining the various salves and pastes the trainers kept for sore muscles, cuts and burns. He'd asked the witch working on Ginny if she'd demonstrate some of the products so that Harry was familiar with their appearance and smell, eventually taking over the work himself so that he could recognize how each should feel and look when rubbed onto a player's skin. Glad to have someone else to do her work, the trainer had left for a break soon afterwards. Or maybe she had just wanted to give them some privacy after hearing Ginny's satisfied moans as Harry's hands had delved lower and lower on her back until he finally cupped her arse under the towel that had been covering her.

The Harpies were currently on one of their longest winning streaks ever, and Harry had begun laughingly taking credit for the team's success, suggesting to Ginny that as long as they continued having sex before (and often after) every game, the team would be unbeatable. Ginny hadn't bothered correcting the assumption. The sex after each win was hot and exciting, and Ginny made sure it was always quick enough for Harry to begin his post-game security checks right on time.

It was good to be back on their home pitch after the team's extended road trip, Ginny thought as she ran. She missed her flat and having a bedroom to herself; traveling got tiring after a while. She really did like most of her teammates, but a month on the road, sharing small hotel or dorm-type rooms could be a little much. She tried to bunk with Evie and some of the other, less raucous players as much as she could, and there certainly had been nights when she'd had her share of crazy – actually, a little too crazy - fun. Particularly that night in Bristol . . .

Ginny grinned to herself, remembering Bristol. The night had started out badly because Harry discovered two suspicious packages in the hallway outside the Harpies' hotel rooms. Ginny had seen one of the boxes, humming slightly and emitting green smoke as Harry stood over it – totally unafraid – creating containment spells. Only then had he called in for reinforcements and the Aurors had diffused everything before anyone got hurt. It was obvious, though that whoever it was attacking Quidditch players had gotten bolder and was going for bigger injuries. The poisonous gas in the packages would have frozen all the players' muscles for at least three days; they would have been unable to play their match the following Sunday.

Later that evening, everyone had still been tense, and Gwenog suggested they all go to a pub – Aurors included – to relax. The fact that they actually had a rare day off the next day probably added to Gwenog's feelings of charity, but no one questioned it too much.

Ginny had hung back at first, wanting to wait for Harry to finish transporting the packages back to Auror headquarters and meeting with Kingsley. He'd urged her to go ahead with her teammates and the other Aurors instead, and not wanting to bother him, Ginny had finally agreed. She was happily buzzed when he'd appeared at the pub more than an hour later, and Ginny had made it her personal mission to get Harry to relax . . .

She and Harry both drank more than either of them usually did, the stress of the evening magnifying the need for release. Ginny had switched from her normal wine to Firewhiskey and Harry had been chasing shots of some fancy enchanted Scotch with a big cup of ale. They were both more than a little tipsy when he whispered in her ear.

"There's . . . there's a storage room. Round back of the bar." He stood up and walked off without looking at anyone.

Ginny's breath hitched. "I'm . . .I'm going to th' loo," she said to her teammates. Fortunately, they were all too pissed to take her much mind; even Leandra, who was busy sucking on Gavin Sykes' neck, by the look of things.

In the storage room, Harry locked the door and pulled out an open bottle of Scotch. "Lie down," he said thickly, gesturing to a table in the corner. It was covered with paperwork until Harry's spell made everything vanish.

"I hope you aren't too . . . too drunk to get those back," Ginny giggled. She lay down. Harry pushed up the bottom of her dress and carefully dribbled scotch across her belly and down her legs.

"I put 'em over there," said Harry, waving haphazardly at the other side of the room. "Now lay still while I drink this scotch."

He licked and sucked and tickled Ginny with his tongue until she was almost crazy with wanting him. And then he pulled off his own bottoms and let her suck a bit of the alcohol off of him before straddling her there on the table.

The sex was hot and fast and thoroughly satisfying. Even the fact that Ginny later had to help Harry into the back garden of the pub and cast a privacy charm while he got sick didn't really dampen her memories of that night. Harry so rarely lost control like that, Ginny was just glad she'd been there to help him.

"Don't tell me that grin on your face is because you love running stadium steps that much," Leandra's voice broke Ginny out of her reverie. "What are you thinking about? Not that I can't guess."

Ginny couldn't even feel annoyed at the suggestive timbre of Leandra's voice. "Bristol," she replied.

Leandra waggled her eyebrows and nodded. "Ahh yes, Bristol. Quite a night that was."

"Ummhmm," Ginny replied noncommittally. But Leandra wasn't finished.

"So, you seem to be spending an awful lot of your free time with Harry Potter, hmmm? And he's made it more than clear that he's not interested in any of the rest of us. Are the two of you back together?"

"No," said Ginny swiftly. "It's nothing like that. We're just . . . friends."

"Friends . . . right," Leandra said dryly. Then she smirked. "Friends with benefits, maybe. You weren't completely covered by that Invisibility Cloak last week, you know."

Ginny blushed, but said nothing. Goodness knows, she'd seen Leandra in enough compromising positions.

"So," Leandra pressed. "Is Harry a good kisser? He looks like he's good at everything."

"He is," Ginny agreed. "Good at everything. And he works hard for it. That's why he's moved up so fast as an Auror." She looked pointedly at Leandra. "He takes his job very seriously."

"All the Aurors do," Leandra pointed out. "I think it's sexy, watching them swarm all over the stadium and changing rooms after each game. I usually stay and watch before they leave for the pubs. You know, to figure out which one needs a bit of extra . . . attention that night, you know?"

Ginny ignored the innuendo again. "Well, Harry has more to do," she said slowly. He always showed up later than the rest of his team on the nights they went out. "Because he's in charge."

"Really? I thought that Meyers fellow was in charge," remarked Leandra. "Gavin told me Harry lets the other blokes leave early when he can. So they can get out and have some fun, you know?" She raised her eyebrows and Ginny nodded tiredly. Yes, Leandra, I know what you mean by "fun".

"Or, I guess some of them go home to their families," she amended, shrugging. Ginny guessed that Leandra couldn't understand why anyone would want to tie themselves down with something like a family – not when there were so many other unattached Aurors to flirt with.

"I didn't know that," said Ginny. It made sense to her, that Harry would try to make it easier for everyone else, and not make a big deal about it. She shrugged. "It's part of being a good leader, recognizing the needs of the people below you, too."

"Ummhmm," agreed Leandra vaguely, already bored with the discussion of Harry Potter and work. She grinned at Ginny and took off again up the next set of steps.

Ginny sighed and began to run after her, but slowly enough that she didn't have to talk anymore. Something Leandra had said prickled at the back of Ginny's brain, bothering her, but she couldn't figure out what it was. For the entire rest of her workout, Ginny kept reviewing the conversation in her head, trying to pinpoint her unease, but the more she concentrated, the more it slipped away. She finally gave up, deciding that if it was truly important, she'd remember eventually.