Chapter 20

Harry was not sure what to expect when Ginny announced that she was ready to bring him home to officially meet her family. He'd met them all, of course, but the prospect of sitting around a dinner table with all eyes on him wasn't exactly comfortable.

He and Ginny had been officially dating for almost six weeks, and he could honestly say he wasn't sure what he'd do without her. She had a way of cutting through the layers of rubbish in his life to get to the heart of things that made Harry want to kiss her, often. She'd been the one to help him organize his contacts and begin officially applying for wizarding diplomatic status-along with Percy's gentle guidance through the Ministry-so that he could consult with other governments and organizations legally. The first time he'd made a trip to France and actually gone through the proper channels to do so was rather disconcerting, he had to admit.

He missed the anonymity of Blackheart, but there were perks to being Harry Potter, as well, he was finding.

Ginny was training hard for a tryout with her beloved Holyhead Harpies late in the summer, and Harry enjoyed the afternoons they spent flying around various borrowed pitches and fields. While Nimbus had kept their jobs, and even offered them more money to come back and tie Harry's celebrity name with the company, both Harry and Ginny had decided that it wouldn't be worth the added security risks or trouble. Besides, neither were passionate about the work in the first place.

"Does this set of robes look too new to you?"

Sirius looked up from the magazine he was reading and peered at Harry. "They are new."

Harry huffed. "I don't want it too look like I'm trying too hard."

"Might help to remove the tags."

Snatching the Gladrags tag that dangled from his sleeve, Harry gave it a yank. Why was he so nervous about this? It was just the Weasleys. He walked back down the hallway, grumbling.

"And whatever you do, don't, under any circumstances-"

Harry slammed the door, not willing to listen to more of Siruis' advice. He'd been giving it for weeks, ever since Harry and Ginny had made things official. As if Sirius had any recent experience with women!

When Harry knocked on the back door of the Burrow, Ginny opened the door and pulled him inside by the lapels. She kissed him and Harry did his best not to fall over while he balanced the bottle of elf-made wine and bunch of flowers that Ginny was crushing.

"Not that I'm complaining," Harry said when she finally pulled back from him. "But why-"

"I knew you'd be nervous," she said. "You don't need to be nervous. And you were too cute when I opened the door, standing there in your new robes, all pressed, and holding those silly flowers. I just couldn't help it."

Harry looked down at the bouquet, looking much worse for wear after Ginny's enthusiastic greeting. "They're for your mum. Or...they were. Probably should just bin them now."

"They're fine." Ginny snatched them from him and tugged him further into the kitchen. "Mum would be happy with weeds picked from the field, honestly. That's all any of us ever got her." Harry watched, amazed, as she put the flowers in water and used a few spells to freshen them up. They looked better than when he'd bought them at the store.

"Can you do me a favor?" Ginny came close again, winding her arms around his middle and rocking them a bit from side to side.

"Sure."

"Channel a little Blackheart tonight?"

"What?"

Ginny peered up at him. "Mum invited the whole family. And I don't want you to worry about it. Just...use that confidence, and a little bit of swagger that you had when you were him. You'll do fine. And maybe that way nobody will give you any shite."

Harry thought about that. "I doubt that. Do you think I'm too...mild?"

"Most of the time, no. But...remember the other day when we were in Diagon Alley and were cornered by those blokes with the camera?"

Harry scowled. They'd been from some tabloid and only out to try and get a salacious picture that they could slap on their magazine cover.

"And you told them to piss off?"

"I'm not telling your family to piss off, Ginny."

She laughed. "The night is still young; you may change your mind. I'm talking about the way you acted. You were very...sexy." She finished in a whisper and Harry felt a shiver go up his spine.

"You think I'm-"

"Don't press your luck, Potter," she said with a giggle. "My parents and brothers-all six of them-are just behind that door."

"I like my chances," Harry said as he kissed her.

"That's what I was talking about."

"No snogging in the kitchen!"

"Who's snogging in the kitchen?!"

"Ooo, look, Mum! It's Harry Potter!"

"Maybe he'll autograph your-"

"Leave off, prats."

Harry couldn't help but laugh as the family filed in and Ginny refused to let go of him. He'd been nervous before coming, and a little after arriving, but Ginny was right. If he just showed a bit of confidence, he'd be fine. He'd been around most of these people as Blackheart at one point or another, and they'd respected him, or at least his skills. He could use that to his advantage now.

Laughter, greetings, handshakes, back slaps, and even a kiss on the cheek from Fleur, made him relax. Harry found himself sitting across from Ginny, her foot running up and down his calf every time she thought he was getting too serious. Her parents probably thought Fred and George had slipped something in his trousers, he jumped so much.

All in all, however, the meal was pleasant, and he enjoyed the company.

Ron even talked to him, something that had been happening more and more over the weeks that passed since the Final Battle. He was still struggling with Draco's death, but his other friends-Seamus, Neville, and Luna Lovegood-were helping. Luna was here as Ron's date, something that pleased Ginny because she could take the piss almost constantly now that they'd begun dating.

In fact, it appeared that the war had proved very profitable for Weasley romances. Percy and Fleur were exchanging small endearing phrases in French-Harry pretended that he couldn't understand them. Hermione was doing her best to cut Fred's meat for him, while he kept slipping things onto her plate to make her sprout feathers. She would scold him, but pretend to have forgotten the next time he did it. Bill was chatting up Fleur's sister, Gabrielle, but Harry thought that was likely just innocent flirting, really, since there was such an age difference. Charlie was going on and on about some girl in Romania. And George…

Well, George was still single, but the rumors were that he had a different date nearly every weekend, and he appeared to be happy, so who was Harry to judge?

"-Ginny, dear, did you get a chance to-"

"-more than three times the inflation-"

"-burn cream, but it itches something fierce-"

"-quand vas-tu lui dire, mon amour?-"

"-and then she said-"

"-we're thinking of expanding, actually-"

All of the talk made his head spin. He'd never been anywhere where this type of conversations were kept running around the table, with input from various people. It was fascinating and intimidating.

"-Kestrals dropped four goals in a row-"

"-sold thirty-nine of them last week, alone-"

He nearly dropped his glass when Ginny's foot climbed up the inside of his leg and nudged his thigh.

"Alright there, Harry?" George, who was seated next to Harry, gave him a knowing look.

"Fine." He tried not to let his voice break and vowed to get Ginny back for her timing.

"...wish I could get more of that corrumpam vineam. I know it's toxic, but it kept the garden gnomes in check. Ever since the Ministry outlawed it-"

"I bet Fred and George's bloke could get you some, mum."

All conversation stopped as Ron raised his voice from the far end of the table. Harry choked on the carrot he'd just put in his mouth. George thumped him helpfully on the back.

"Er...yeah, we could certainly ask him for you," Fred glanced at Harry.

Mrs. Weasley's face turned pink and she fussed with her hair. "Well, I wouldn't want to trouble-"

"I'll bet it's no trouble at all, Mum. Bloke like that, he probably has it lying around somewhere."

Harry had never met Charlie in his capacity as a Weasley, but Charlie seemed determined to make him pay for some unknown sin by making his face turn as red as possible.

"I do not understand the English Ministry," Fleur said with a toss of her white-blond hair. "They are so determined to regulate everything."

"Perhaps your friend can help, Fleur," Percy said. "He has French connections, doesn't he?"

"Or your cursebreaker friend, Bill," Hermione said, a sly grin on her face. "He probably deals with some shady characters in his line of work."

Harry felt like sinking into the table. He glanced over at Ginny who was trying hard not to burst out in laughter.

Only Mr. and Mrs. Weasley seemed to be completely lost in the conversation.

"I don't see how-"

"Yes, well, he does get mixed up with some bad company, doesn't he?" George asked. "Alright, Harry? You're looking a bit...flushed."

"I hate you all," he whispered, only making George laugh.

As much as they kept going on, making jokes about their various interactions with the spy, the things he had done, and even invented stories that had become lore, Harry couldn't stop himself from smiling, and even chuckling.

"I think we're missing something, dear," Mr. Weasley said.

"I think you're right, my love."

Harry looked across the table to see Ginny staring at him, a blazing look in her eyes. He took a breath, swallowed back the laughter and mouthed 'I love you' to her. She winked at him in response, and turned to listen to Percy's tale of almost-almost!-defeating the wizard known as Ombragé in a duel.

"-heard he once broke into the Russian Ministry, just to prove-"

"-and then returned the portraits to the authorities-"

"-put itching powder in a Death Eaters-"

"-made Mad-Eye Moody scream like a-"

"Would you care for some pudding, Harry?"

The Weasley siblings may have won the battle, Harry decided, but this war was far from over.

"I'd love some, Mrs. Weasley."

The End.

Note: All that is left is the author's note, which will be coming along shortly.