They didn't like to go out in public much. Ginny's quidditch career had taken off and now the two of them would be mobbed constantly by well-wishers and requests for autographs. Harry hated the attention for himself, but he adored everyone that approached Ginny to tell her how much they loved to watch her play. As the years went on people started to care a little less about Harry and a little more about Ginny. The day Harry realized that he could have sung to the stars, he was so happy. People realized how special she was, how extraordinarily perfect she was. He had known for years, almost a decade even, that she was more than a pretty girl. More than a good quidditch player. More than "Harry Potter's girlfriend". With every year that passed, other people started to see that too. How could he not cherish every little girl that ran up to Ginny, telling her they wanted to just be like her?
"I want to venture out today! Today, you and I are leaving this flat. We are going out, into the public, and having a nice afternoon together," Ginny said this with such authority Harry was reminded a little of Mrs. Weasley.
"Okay, I'll get ready and we'll head out" Harry croaked. Ginny had a match yesterday and as usual, Harry's voice was hoarse for cheering as loudly as he could. She would never admit it, and in fact she would deny it vhelmently if questioned, but she loved how enthusiastic he was.
Two hours later they walked hand in hand through muggle London, avoiding the wizarding world until they had specific reasons to be there. Shop after shop had beautiful window displays, all advertising the changing seasons. There was a constant light drizzle the entire time, but it was nice to be outside and breathe in the fresh air. They had stopped in several shops looking at nothing in particular but enjoyed the chance to meander at their own pace. Eventually, Harry excused himself from a bookstore where Ginny admired leather bound copies of classic novels and plays.
"Where did you go off to?" Ginny asked. Harry had found her looking through a stack of children's books, picking out a few for their niece. "What is that?" She asked, gesturing to the foam cup in his hand.
"It's a milkshake. My throat hurts from screaming at Ireland for that shoddy pass they made and got away with. The injustice still haunts me."
"Yes, well, we still won, remember?"
"Of course I remember! Weasley shoots for a final point just as Jameson catches the snitch, 160 points scored in just under a minute and enough to take the lead by ten," he recited fondly. It was an excellent match, and a perfect move on Ginny's part. He always thought that her dual skill as a seeker and chaser made her an even more adept player, able to understand the next move the seeker would make.
"I thought I heard something about that. That Weasley girl, excellent chaser. Best ever maybe!" She was cheeky, alright. She wasn't wrong though.
"Let's go get something to eat," Harry's voice seemed to be returning and his throat hurt a little less. He carried the children's books to the counter and gave the store owner several pounds. Muggle money still confused Ginny no matter how many times Harry had tried to explain it.
"What flavor is this, anyways?" She took the cup from his hand without waiting for an answer and took a drink.
"You better be careful about where you do your child related shopping otherwise the headline in tomorrow's Prophet will be something to do with you being pregnant" he warned.
Ginny was silent for a beat too long and her cheeks were a tinge redder than they should have been for a cool afternoon. Harry knew every shade of red on her face, but this color eluded him. She took another drink, perhaps to cover for the slightly too long break in conversation.
"Yes, well."
