Harry's flat seemed more subdued than usual for some reason. True, he hadn't slept there much in the past month – and by the look of things (neat, kitchen table slightly dusty), neither had Ron – but that wasn't it. No, it was more what the three days back here signified. On Friday he would watch the Harpies play the Earlham Eagles in the first game after the ten-day suspension of league play, and after that, he'd be in charge of investigating and protecting the Earlham Eagles. Dorian Wolfe would be transferred to the Harpies, and Harry was not likely to see Ginny much at all.

He wondered what Ginny thought about the change – they certainly hadn't talked that day at Harry's office, when she had been under Harry's desk, giving him . . . no. Harry wasn't going to think about that now. Not when there was nothing he could do about it, and a second wank today felt excessive.

He had finally talked to her yesterday – briefly by floo – but she had already heard of the new assignment with the rest of the team. The conversation had been short and awkward; Ginny had been using the floo in her flat, and several of her teammates were there too, shouting comments and generally making a lot of noise. They hadn't even discussed seeing each other again.

He wasn't exactly sure why he hadn't just told her himself right away – it would have made sense, after all – but after their encounter at his office he hadn't been able to bring himself to contact her immediately. Part of him was mildly ashamed that he hadn't insisted more vehemently to Kingsley that he stay assigned to the Harpies; even if he had been in no shape to do so at the moment Kingsley had delivered the news, Harry certainly could have gone to talk to his boss later that day. He had only just finished listening to Arthur Weasley tell him how glad the family was that he was the one assigned to watch Ginny's team, and here he was, abandoning her. It was possible that Ginny would have expected more of him, and Harry didn't want to disappoint her.

And part of him – the bigger part – was afraid she really wouldn't care at all.

Logically, he knew he was being ridiculous. Ginny and he were friends – at the least. Of course she'd be up upset to hear that Harry wasn't going to be assigned to the Harpies anymore. She would miss their arrangement as much as he would, Harry was sure. But Harry was also beginning to realize that his thoughts when it came to Ginny were not always logical. And that scared him. There had been a subtle shift between them at the Burrow, although he couldn't say exactly what had changed. He had staunchly avoided thinking about it actually, figuring that if he ignored whatever it was, it would eventually go away and they could go back to shagging like they had been – no strings attached. Assuming of course that they ever had a chance to see each other.

Maybe time apart was what they needed.

Right. It was possible that the time apart would be good for them. Ginny needed to focus on playing – it appeared the Harpies were headed for the playoffs – and she needed to be at the top of her game. And Harry, well . . . he had to put as much energy into the Eagles as he had the Harpies. He would, too – that was a given. It just wouldn't be nearly as interesting. Or personal.

The Floo flared green and Harry sat up in his chair. It was probably Gavin Sykes, wanting to talk to him – again – about his new assignment with the Harpies. Gavin was so excited, you'd think he was in charge of the entire operation, not just one of the three trainees assigned to work with the Harpies. He'd floo-called Harry no less than four times in the last several days, and stopped by his office two more, always asking rather inane questions about specific players and their habits, "to make sure he was on top of everything at all times." After Harry had confirmed that yes, Kennedy Smythe usually had fresh-squeezed orange juice for breakfast before practice, and Katrina Block preferred to listen to Muggle-style heavy metal while she ran stadium steps, Harry had finally told Gavin that part of being a top-notch Auror meant observing and cataloguing ones subjects for oneself. He hoped Gavin had gotten the point.

Fortunately, it was not Gavin at the Floo. Instead, Dorian Wolfe was there, with a report about the investigation. Trainee Bindi Shah had finally been the one to make some real progress on the case, figuring out that the strange and dangerous plants that kept showing up in shipments of medical supplies for the trainers could also be used – if correctly prepared – in certain high-end types of flavored Firewhisky. The Aurors were now looking into companies that brewed or imported the drink, but it was slow going.

The mention of Bindi reminded Harry of something else, however.

"Hey, is Bindi okay being assigned to the Harpies?" he asked Wolfe. "I mean, I know Gavin and Hector were thrilled, but I can't imagine the assignment is that exciting for her."

Wolfe smirked. "Actually, I think working an all-female team is just what Bindi was hoping for, if you know what I mean." He waggled his eyebrows. "Actually, she asked me the other day if I knew of any players who might need individual attention, and I said I'd ask you what you thought."

"Ahhh," said Harry, thinking for a second and trying to remember a conversation he'd had with Ginny. "Umm, tell her to look for one of the reserve Beaters – Tamara, I think her name is. Actually, she might be the starter now. And . . . warn her about Leandra. I don't care which way that witch flies – she's dangerous to everyone."

Dorian laughed. "So I've heard – from more than one trainee. Gavin practically turned green when I suggested that he pay special attention to her. I don't think he's recovered from the last time they met up."

Harry grinned back. "Neither have I, and all she did was talk to me."

A few minutes later, Harry ended the call and was starting to review the report when the fireplace flared green again. He sighed and put down his parchment, fully expecting to see Gavin's head bobbing in the flames. Instead, Harry grinned to see Ron there instead, chewing something. No surprise there, Harry thought. Ron swallowed and without so much as a hello blurted out, "what's this I hear about you ditching my sister?"

So Ginny had told Ron. No use playing dumb. "I didn't have a choice – King wants me on the Eagles now."

"Did you tell him nothing doing?"

"Come on, Ron, how often did you stand up to Kingsley?" asked Harry indignantly. Ron had gone almost all the way through Auror training before realizing that what he was really meant to do was work with the twins, inventing jokes. Now he was in charge of his own line of trick toys and games, his latest being a wizard's chess set whose pieces would only make moves that benefited one's opponent. But during his eight months as Harry's training partner, Ron had gotten very serious. So serious, in fact, that everyone was quite relieved when he quit and joined up with Fred and George.

"That's different." Ron sounded equally indignant. "You aren't a trainee anymore. You're Mr. Harry "skipped right to Number Three in command" Potter. D'ya really think King wouldn't keep you on the Harpies if you asked?"

Harry shrugged. "Kinglsey knows what he's doing. I'm needed elsewhere." He hesitated, not sure what Ron suspected. He couldn't betray Ginny like that – she'd been adamant about keeping everything secret. "And anyway, it wouldn't be fair. Taking advantage of my personal relationship with . . . with your family, just to stay with the Harpies. Maybe King thinks it was getting too personal. That can be a danger, you know – an Auror cares too much, and then loses focus."

"For some Aurors, maybe," said Ron. "Not for you. You do your best work when you care too much. And I still think you should be keeping a close eye on Ginny. There's something going on that I don't like. But she's so damn independent, all she can talk about is how hard she needs to be training right now and that she's sure the Aurors will take care of everything. She'd listen to you, I bet."

"And what exactly am I supposed to tell her?" Harry asked, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He was right – he'd probably been distracting her and now she was trying to catch up. And doing something dangerous to boot.

"Tell her to quit her late night flies and wait for the rest of the team. They've been assigning one of those idiot trainees to watch her – last night she said the kid spent more time staring at her arse than looking around for danger."

"Gavin, I bet," said Harry darkly.

"Whoever," agreed Ron. "If you were there she wouldn't be pulling these idiotic stunts – or if she did, at least you'd be able to protect her."

If I was there, she certainly wouldn't flying so much –and if Ron knew why, he'd probably kill me – unless Ginny got to him first. For Harry was certain Ron would not be that understanding of the whole "friends with benefits" rules he and Ginny had worked out – he'd want to know why they weren't just back together and then accuse one or the other of just wanting to shag. And Harry was in no mood to try to explain something he was feeling less and less sure he understood himself.

"Listen mate, Dorian Wolfe is in charge of the Harpies now, and he's a good man. Ginny'll be fine." Harry paused. "Besides, I'm sure she doesn't want to hear me telling her what to do any more than she likes getting it from the rest of you."

Ron gave him a look. "Harry," he said slowly, "Ginny hasn't thought of you as just another one of her annoying brothers since some time back at the beginning of her Fifth year. She'd listen to you, no matter . . ." he broke off. "Forget it."

Harry was more than happy to forget it – the conversation was moving too near one of several forbidden topics. He grabbed for something to change the topic. "How are the wedding plans coming?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "If you really want to know, I'll go get Hermione. She can talk about the details for hours. I swear, it's worse than listening to her make up study schedules because this time I can't ignore her."

Harry grinned. He knew that beneath Ron's bluster, he was really enjoying himself. "At least getting married doesn't require passing a test," he said. "I'd hate to think about how much Hermione would make you study for that."

Ron grinned back. "Yep." He suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Hey, that reminds me. I wanted to tell you in person, but you've been so busy . . ."

Harry sat up. "Tell me what?"

Hermione joined Ron's side in the floo. She looked at her fiancée. "Did you tell him?"

"I was just about to. He's not going to believe it though."

"What?" Harry asked again.

Hermione's eyes sparkled. "Ron actually got up the guts to tell his mother that we're moving in together – before the wedding!"

Harry laughed. "And he's still in one piece? All his bits intact?"

"Oh, she had more than a few choice words," said Ron ruefully. But there was no way she'd touch my bits – wants more grandkids, you know. Victoire can only wear so many sweaters."

"Well that's great," Harry said. "I'm excited for you two. When, umm, when do you want to move your stuff?" He kept a smile plastered on his face while he talked, hoping that the flickering light of the floo made it appear fairly natural. He'd known in the back of his head that Ron's getting married would mean he was moving out, but it hadn't really seemed real – and Harry certainly hadn't expected it to happen before the wedding. True, he and Ron didn't spend a huge amount of time in the flat, but still, it was different than actually living alone. They usually found themselves together at least a couple nights a month – sometimes with Hermione and sometimes without – and Harry knew he was going to miss their impromptu dinners of Chinese take-out or Muggle pizza. Everything going forward would have to be planned.

". . . couple of weeks, I think," Ron was saying. "Hermione needs to clean out some of the 10,000 books she owns to make room for my stuff."

She swatted him "Prat. I only have 9,990." She looked earnestly at Harry. "We'll let you know ahead of time to make sure we aren't interrupting anything – maybe a weekend when you're busy with work or something?"

"That would be all of them," said Harry, trying to make a joke. He suspected they saw through it, though. "Just let me know so I can help. I don't have many plans in the next month except that Auror ball thing the Ministry is putting on for the International law enforcement convention."

Hermione looked interested. "Really? A ball? Who are you going to take?"

Harry sighed. He really didn't want to get into this right now. "No one, Hermione," he replied in a voice he hoped told her the matter was closed. "I'll go for the speeches and dinner and then leave."

"Isn't there anyone you want to take?" Harry was surprised that it was Ron who asked the question. He bit back the urge to ask like whom? and just shook his head. He knew who Ron would suggest – who all the Weasleys would suggest, for that matter.

"Nope. No one," he said firmly.

"Not even as a friend?" Ron was not to be deterred. "I bet Ginny would go."

"It's right before a big game," said Harry hurriedly. He was not going to complicate things by asking Ginny to rearrange her schedule and get permission from Gwenog to go on what would undoubtedly look like a date. Especially right before the playoffs. And it was against their rules, besides.

"Whatever, mate," Ron finally said. "You'll be at her match tomorrow though, right?"

"Right," said Harry. "They're playing the Eagles anyway. I'll transition over to them after the game." He'd already decided not to try to find Ginny for a pre-game "warm-up" tomorrow – not only would it be next to impossible anyway with all the extra Aurors around, but he didn't think Ginny (or Gwenog, for that matter), would appreciate any sort of distractions before the match. The team hadn't played in over ten days and they needed to be focused and coordinated.

The call ended and the flames died away, leaving the flat silent and still again. Harry picked up the report and tried to read, but other thoughts kept crowding his mind. Abruptly, he stood up, throwing the report on the table and striding to his bedroom.

The vial was at the bottom of his trunk, he was pretty sure. It was rolled up in an old pair of socks, still tightly stoppered. Harry opened it with a tap of his wand and watched the swirling mists inside before putting his wand to his head and closing his eyes. Incongruently, He thought for a moment of Dumbledore, telling him that sometimes he found that his head was just too crowded with thoughts, and that it helped to take some of them out sometimes, to be reviewed at leisure.

Harry didn't intend to look at these thoughts again either, but he hoped it would be a relief to put them somewhere where they couldn't distract him anymore.

When he was finally satisfied, he put the stopper back on the bottle and resealed it, slipping it back into the socks and dropping the entire thing into his trunk again. Only then did he go back to his living room and pick up the report. He would need to be fully up-to-date by tomorrow.

HPHPHPHPHP

Ginny told herself she hadn't really expected Harry to come find her before the match – there was just too much going on – but that hadn't stopped her from looking up every time the door to the dressing room opened or her stomach from making an odd little swoop when she saw a tall, dark-haired Auror there. But it was just that Wolfe bloke – the new Auror who was going to be in charge of watching the Harpies starting tomorrow – letting them know in his dry, boring voice that the start of the game would be delayed for "security reasons", whatever that meant. Some of her teammates exchanged nervous looks, but Ginny just continued resolutely pulling on her robes and beginning her stretches.

Harry would have found a way to let me know exactly what was going on.

It was true, she had gotten used to feeling more in-the-know than her teammates – than Gwenog, even – but the new absence of information hadn't started unnerving her yet. But seeing that other Auror standing there, instead of Harry, suddenly gave Ginny a jolt of unease. She didn't feel as safe as she had before. What had she been thinking, going for those late night practice flies? Anything could have happened, and Harry would not have been around to help her.

She had staunchly tried to avoid thinking about what it meant, that Harry was no longer the one protecting the Harpies. Obviously things were getting worse; when they had talked by floo the other day his eyes had been ringed with dark circles and two days of stubble shadowed his chin. Seeing him like that, Ginny had felt horribly guilty about all the time Harry had been spending with her, shagging, when he should have been focusing on the investigation.

And the worst thing was, she knew that if given the opportunity, she'd want to do it again.

Harry would too; he enjoyed himself as much as you did, she thought fairly. Ginny hadn't imagined the way Harry's eyes grew dark with desire and need whenever they were together, and she couldn't deny the intensity of their coupling. But now, when he needed to focus on his job and nothing else, she would have to be strong enough to let him do just that.

I wonder when I'll see him again. She couldn't deny the thought, though, and it wasn't hurting anyone to think it. The truth was, seeing him regularly had become habit, and even though the idea of going about her business play Quidditch, and not seeing Harry every day hadn't completely sunk yet, Ginny knew she was going to miss it.

Okay, fine. I'll miss it. Who wouldn't? He's a great guy and we've been having a lot of fun. End of story. Ginny ignored the nagging thought that these little lectures to herself were getting more common. The problem was, she was beginning to realize that if she wanted to continue making things right for Harry, their understanding – and their rules – were going to have to change.

Gwenog's arrival in the changing tent broke Ginny out of her reverie. The Captain clapped her hands briskly. "Okay, a few last minute words before the game. I don't need to tell you how important this match is – we could clinch the playoffs today with a win." She peered down at the clipboard she was holding. "Now, I've just learned that the Eagles have a few new players on their team. Ginny – didn't you go to school with Alicia Spinnet?"

Ginny looked up, surprised. "Yeah, she's a couple years older than me, though. She married Oliver Wood last year and is a reserve Chaser for Tutshill."

"Not anymore," said Gwenog. "She was just traded to the Eagles and will be playing today in the match. Her style is completely different from Coco Firestone, the Eagles' old Chaser. Did you ever play with her?"

"A bit," said Ginny. "My fourth year. Alicia's good, but pretty straightforward. She wasn't very strong on the breakaway, but her scoring accuracy from close range was good."

Gwenog nodded. "I want you to shadow her as much as possible. My intelligence was watching her practice earlier and it sounds like she's improved a lot. The entire team looked really tight. Keep focused and keep pushing. I know we can do this."

The team grabbed hands and cheered before grabbing their brooms and flying onto the field.

Afterwards, Ginny would always describe the game as the toughest she'd ever played. She had flown up to hover near Alicia as Gwenog and the Eagles' captain shook hands, giving her former schoolmate a friendly smile. Alicia's cold stare back was so out of character for the girl Ginny remembered that for a second, she thought she had the wrong player.

Ginny tried again. "How do you like playing for the Eagles, Alicia?"

"It's fine," the other Chaser responded automatically. She turned away from Ginny and began flying circuits across the field even before the game officially began, leaving Ginny to catch up and wonder what the hell was going on.

The Harpies had played the Eagles twice before, winning handily both times over the newer and less-experienced team. Only minutes into the game, Ginny could see that a lot had changed since their last meeting. Gwenog was always lecturing the women about "seamless playing" – working together as so much of a unit that they could practically anticipate a teammate's move before she made it. Watching the Eagles, Ginny wondered if they'd heard Gwenog's lecture themself – their formations were tight and the Chasers moved quickly through the sky, passing the Quaffle back and forth to each other with barely a glance at their target.

It took all of Ginny's concentration and strength to keep up with Alicia – the older girl zoomed around the pitch so fast that she was only a dark blur most of the time. But the Harpies were very good too, and for a while they kept the game close. After almost two hours however, Ginny was exhausted, and by the looks on her teammates' faces, they were getting demoralized too. She groaned when Alicia zipped past her, Quaffle in hand, hardly appearing winded at all. By the time Ginny reached the goals, Alicia had already scored and the Eagles were up by 40 points. Ginny was turning her broom to head back down the pitch, keeping her eye on Leandra, who now had the Quaffle, when a whistle pierced the air.

The Eagles' Seeker was descending, his fist, clamped around the Snitch, held high above his head. Ginny ground her teeth in frustration and landed with her teammates to line up for the post-game handshakes, barely hearing the crowd around her. They had been outplayed from the start – it was the Harpies' worst loss all season and their first loss at all in over a month. Now the Eagles were one game ahead of them at the top of the league and the Harpies were going to have to fight to make the playoffs.

Ginny scanned the edges of the pitch where the Aurors were always stationed, looking for Harry. He'd played for years with Alicia at Hogwarts and Ginny hoped that when he came to see her after the game, he'd have some thoughts about how the Harpies looked against the other team, and whether Ginny could have done anything differently to improve her play. She was pretty sure he was still transitioning assignments, and it would make sense for him to come along with the new Aurors when everyone got together at the pubs. Maybe they could have a pint together while the team commiserated about the loss; Harry was always urging her to go be with her team more, she bet he'd be pleased.

Ginny shook Alicia's hand perfunctorily, noting that she didn't even seem particularly excited about winning. Ginny remembered her as a rather enthusiastic player – almost as ardent about winning as her new husband – but now she simply nodded at Ginny and faded away towards the visitors' changing rooms.

Ginny did not have a lot of time to ponder Alicia's behavior; she caught sight of Harry talking to a female Auror who still wore trainee robes. As Ginny approached, Harry looked up and caught her eye. His face was more closed off than Ginny had seen in weeks and when he smiled, it did not reach his eyes. He motioned to the trainee next to him.

"Ginny, this is Bindi Shah, one of the trainees assigned to the Harpies now."

"Hi," said the young Auror. "I'm sorry about the loss."

"Yeah, thanks," said Ginny. "We were completely outplayed." She looked at Harry. "D'you want . . ." she began, just as Bindi asked her "is the team going to a pub or something? Harry suggested that I tag along and keep an eye out."

"Oh," said Ginny, her concentration broken. "Err, yeah, I guess we are. The Cloak and Dagger, I think. That's Gwenog's favorite for drowning her sorrows after a loss."

"Great," said Bindi. "I'll be there." She turned to Harry, apparently continuing their previous conversation. "Should I . . ."

Harry shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I'll let Dorian know." He paused for a second. "I'm just going to . . . ummm . . . grab a bite to eat first." He didn't look at Ginny, but touched her arm and mumbled "Tell Gwenog I'm sorry you lost," before turning on the spot and disappearing.

Ginny was so surprised at Harry's abrupt departure that she didn't even realize Bindi was talking to her until she waved her hand in front of Ginny's face. "Are you okay?"

Ginny bit back the urge to ask this girl she'd only just met if something was going on with Harry. Why did he disappear so fast? Just because he's hungry?

"Nothing's wrong," Ginny managed. "Just tired from the game."

Bindi nodded. "Well, I guess I'll see you at the pub, then. Hey, do you know if Tamara's going to be there?"

Ginny nodded distractedly. "I assume so," she mumbled, her mind swirling. She didn't notice Bindi smile to herself and then Apparate away. It had just occurred to her what else was different about this match – aside from the loss, of course. It was the first one in weeks – maybe over a month, even – that she and Harry had not had sex first. It had been their joke – that sex before insured a Harpies win.

Almost immediately, Ginny was unaccountably angry. If he thinks this is because of the sex, or no sex, before . . .

It would be so like Harry to feel guilty. Or responsible. They'd been fucking outplayed, that was all, and now he couldn't even look her in the eye and have a conversation with her about why they'd been flown circles around and how Alicia had gotten so good and . . .

Or he didn't want to have sex.

Ginny wasn't sure what was worse, Harry feeling guilty because they hadn't had sex before the game and thought that's why they'd lost, or Harry not wanting to see her after the game because he didn't want to shag her.

Why the fuck did it all have to be about sex?

Because it was always about sex, a little voice said. That's what being friends with benefits meant. They had a lot of sex, without the problems of a relationship.

But it also meant being friends.

That's what Ginny wanted right now. Harry, as her friend. She wanted to sit with him at the pub and talk about what went wrong at the game and how she might improve if they met the Eagles again in the playoffs (assuming of course, the Harpies even made the playoffs), and laugh together, and . . . not even once think about having sex. Because who said they had to shag every time? Why the fuck couldn't he be her friend without wanting . . . well, without wanting to fuck her?

Just like you at his office, right?

Damn. Because she had avoided going to see him at his office that day at the Ministry of Magic. He didn't need to be bothered. Why couldn't she have just stopped in to say hello, see how he was doing? She'd been there anyway, after all. If she hadn't run into him, they wouldn't have seen each other at all that day. And look what happened. It became all about sex anyway.

Ginny shook her head in frustration. It was not the same. Not at all. She hadn't gone to see Harry that day because he was busy. And he'd practically told her he wanted to fool around. She certainly hadn't heard any complaining.

Heh. As if you could hear anything at all, under his desk, with him in your mouth.

Ginny was confused. All she had wanted was to have a chance to sit and talk to Harry after the game. As friends. And now she wasn't sure exactly what that meant for them, and if it was even allowed, for Merlin's sake. Why had it gotten so hard?

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Ginny suddenly realized that the stadium had gotten quiet – with everything that had been going on and security so much tighter, people didn't linger after games the way they used to. She saw the last of her teammates across the pitch, wearing their Harpies' cloaks and getting ready to Disapparate and she headed that way quickly. Tonight she'd drink with them and curse their loss. Tomorrow she could try to figure out what exactly was going on with her and Harry Potter.