Harry's lips moved hungrily against hers. Ginny felt herself grow heated and arched her neck into his kisses.

"Ginny." She'd almost died, hearing him say her name. His hands were everywhere, feeling the bare skin of her back, rocking her hips closer to his. She felt the hard ridge of his erection pressed against her softness, and moaned.

"Ginny." He groaned again. "This is bad." His mouth trailed kisses down her jaw while his hands played with the thin straps on her dress. "This is really bad." He breathed against her ear, and she couldn't find it in her to talk. She'd opened her mouth to tell him exactly how good it really was, when she felt his hands dip into the back of her dress.

His calloused palm moved down, feeling the ridges of her spine. She gasped and arched against him, his hands delving lower to cup her ass. He froze, then, and so did she, just because he had.

He pulled back and they looked at each other. Him, with amazement and a touch of horror, her with confused, slumberous eyes.

"What?" She'd asked, leaning forward to brush his damp lips again. He gripped her hips firmly and slid her to the edge of his lap.

"You're not wearing underwear." He told her, seriously. She blinked at him, not quite sure of what to say. She couldn't deny it. The evidence was sitting right there in his hand.

"You're not wearing underwear, and I…I should never know that. This is the biggest breach in-" He jerked his hand, suddenly, out of her dress as if he'd been burned.

Ginny replayed the scene over and over again in her head. She didn't have the guts to open her eyes, yet. She knew that beside her, Harry was awake. He had been all night, even as she had tossed in and out of consciousness.

After the Underwear Incident, as she was referring to it, he'd brushed her hair apologetically out of her face and led her to his bedroom, though the look he'd given her precluded any ideas on her part of what they were going to be doing in here.

"Just sleep, Ginny." He'd said, tiredly. "Go to sleep. For me." He'd added when she'd opened her mouth to argue. Her mouth had snapped shut and she'd crawled into his bed, dress and all, and fallen asleep almost immediately.

When she woke the first time, Harry had been in an armchair in the corner of the room, but rushed to her.

"What?" She'd asked, confused.

"You were screaming. You woke yourself up." He'd said, fussing with her blankets. Ginny had looked up at him sleepily and fallen promptly back to sleep when she felt his cool hands on her face.

When she'd woken up again, the armchair had been moved directly next to the bed. His knee had been less than a foot away from her nose.

And now, now she was squeezing her eyes shut like a coward and hoping he'd leave, even though she knew that he was not going to. His steady breathing beside her was keeping her calm for now, and her embarrassment over last night was keeping her from remembering the gala.

At that thought, she winced, forcing her mind away from those horrible thoughts. Harry shifted.

"Ginny? Are you ok?" He asked softly, and she opened her eyes when she felt his hands on her shoulder. "What's wrong? Another nightmare?"

She sighed. No. This had been real life. There was no escaping it, or writing it off as a creation of her subconscious. She sighed and pushed the covers, and his hand out of the way.

"I need a shower." She muttered, walking past him to the en suite, not quite able to look him in the eyes.

oOo

Harry slid his hands under his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Maybe if he pressed hard enough he could erase the image of Ginny in that torturous, barely there dress, arching against him.

Fuck. He thought to himself. Just now, when she'd gotten up, the dress had been twisted around her body, showing him more of her chest than she'd have wanted him to see.

And she didn't want him to see it. He'd seen the shame in her face when she'd walked past him. That kiss last night had been a mistake. Harry dropped his hands and heard his shower turn on.

He stalked to the dresser and jerked a drawer open. He felt like a prick. He was a prick. He'd taken advantage of his charge when she'd been vulnerable and hadn't known what she was getting into.

He jerked his smallest pajama bottoms and an old academy shirt out of the drawer and punched it closed, which left a lovely stinging sensation in his knuckles. He laid the clothes out on the bed.

No underwear…

"Fuck." He swore out loud and stalked down the hall. Maybe if he could stop feeling her hands on his chest, or her body sliding against his body, his dick. He couldn't stop smelling her perfume, or feeling the silk of her skin against his hands. Her hair…

It had been like heaven to slide it through his fingers. It moved like watered silk against him, had caught on his neck and face…

Harry growled and held back the urge to punch something else, like his stainless steel refrigerator. His eyes landed on the incident report and flicked back to his bedroom. She' be at least another twenty minutes.

He settled at his kitchen table and opened the file, cautiously.

The subject suffered a panic attack when cutting into her food. Once inspected, the officer found that there were razor blades imbedded in the chicken breast, which was raw, and the potato, which had been dyed dark red.

At this time, the officer was informed by his team that the security camera positions had been moved, and every camera in the ballroom was facing the subject. When the officer began to move the subject to a secure location, the building's power was cut off and when the generators turned on, there was blood on the floor in front of the subject and officer.

Subject was taken outside to a secure location.

Harry tried to hold in his own panic attack and flipped through the remaining pages. He'd taken it off of the officer in charge before it could be finished, but other pages contained a list of staff that had access to the ballroom and cameras, about twenty interviews from kitchen staff, and a preliminary order for the analysis of the food and blood.

Harry jerked and reached for his gun when there was a knock on the door. He let out a breath.

"Calm down, Potter." He muttered to himself, checking who was there. He let Kingsley and Finnegan in quickly, checking the halls before shutting the door.

"Bad business, here. How's she holding up?" Kingsley asked. Finnegan shifted from side to side and looked guiltily at his feet.

"She's…up. I think it scared her pretty badly." Harry admitted, offering them seats at the table and starting the coffee pot.

"Well, of course she's scared! He was close enough to spray blood on the floor, close enough to touch her!" Finnegan burst out, still not meeting Harry's eyes. Harry and Kingsley exchanged a glance.

"Seamus." Harry clapped his hands on the young officer's shoulder. "This wasn't your fault. If anything, it's mine for not being there to check the positions of the staff… I shouldn't have left." He looked at Kingsley.

"I don't care what bureau rule is, this case is different, and it's a priority. I don't care how long it takes, I shouldn't be forced away from her if she's still in danger." He said. Kingsley blinked back at him, considering. "And it's the only thing I've ever asked for from the bureau. I'm one of your best agents, and I've given you everything you've wanted. You can give me this."

It wasn't often that Harry threw his weight around, so when he did, he liked to think that he was hear pretty clearly. Kingsley squinted at him, his eyes flicking to Finnegan and back. He finally nodded.

"I think you're right." He said. Harry sat back with a sigh. "But, I also think that you've already passed that attachment barrier?" He asked, Harry looked back steadily, trying not to give anything away. "I don't want this to be like the Riddle case, Harry. Be careful." He warned, and Harry ducked his head.

"Yes, sir." He muttered, but wasn't heard over Ginny's cry of "Seamus!" The young man's head snapped up, and he rushed to Ginny. They embraced in the hallway for a long time. Harry frowned at the pair.

It was clear the Ginny was whispering something to her, and when Finnegan shook his head, she frowned and continued talking. Harry didn't like the picture they made, or the fact that they'd been so eager to see each other. What, exactly, had happened when he'd been away?

Beside him, Kingsley cleared his throat, snapping Harry out of what might have been a wildly jealous glare.

"We'll take that coffee at a later date, I think." He said, rising. "Harry, this is for you." He slid a packet of papers across the tables before calling, "Finnegan!" and walking to the door.

Ginny and Seamus reluctantly released each other, and Harry heard her say, "I'll see you soon, ok?"

Harry followed the officers out and locked the doors behind them before returning to the table. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, he slid Ginny's incident report and the new papers under a stack of old magazines. It didn't work. She noticed.

"Is that the report?" She asked from behind him. He grimaced and turned to face her. He had to focus on not smiling.

She was standing in his hallway where Seamus had left her. Even his smallest flannel pants were hanging off her body, and his tee shirt went almost down to her knees, the sleeves hanging to her elbows.

And underneath all that, she's not wearing a bra or panties. A lustful voice told him. Harry took a breath.

"Yes, it is." He told her, tearing his eyes away so that he could pour two cups of coffee. He sat back down and set the mugs on the table, nudging on towards her. She walked cautiously towards him.

"You're talking to me." She said, perching gently on the end of her chair, not touching her coffee. He grimaced and looked at her, nudging her cup at her again.

"Yes. I am." He was relieved when she finally took a sip. After the trauma she'd had, he knew that he would have to watch all of her eating and drinking. Some PTSD symptoms included not eating. Not on my watch. He thought, grimly, staring at her.

"Why?"

Harry looked at her incredulously over his glasses. She sighed and looked away, picking her cup back up.

"Right. The Underwear Incident." She muttered. Harry snorted, spraying coffee onto the table. Ginny smiled softly at him.

"Well, that's what it was. I prefer to call a spade a spade." Harry wiped his mouth with a napkin and sighed.

"Ginny, that can't happen again."

"I know."

Harry paused. She somehow had a hard time meeting his gaze, again. He knew that he shouldn't have brought it up, but he knew that he'd had to. He was beginning to worry that he wouldn't be able to protect her, properly, if he was constantly fantasizing about her. Naked. Moaning. Hands tunneling through his hair…

He cleared his throat and shifted, trying to stop his body's reaction before it started. Ginny was staring at her hands.

"Are you going to look at it, or what?" She asked, nodding towards the hidden report. Harry peeled the magazines off of the two files, retrieving the one that Kingsley had just given him.

"I read the report while you were in the shower." He replied, not taking his eyes off her. "Ginny, I'm so sorry. I should have been there. I never should have let you go-"

Ginny's cup slammed down on the table. "What were you going to do, Harry? Clone yourself and personally test every dish that came out of the kitchen? Stare at every single camera? I don't think so. I wish you would all stop blaming yourselves. It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have done anything to prevent it! Same for Seamus…"

"Yes, I'm sure that you were very quick to assure Seamus that he was completely guilt free." Harry growled before he could stop himself. Ginny's eyes snapped to his.

"You have a problem with Officer Finnegan now, too?" She spat, rising to refill her cup. Harry frowned.

"What do you mean, have a problem with him "too"? Who am I supposed to have an issue with?" Harry was upset that one of their first ever prolonged conversations was this snippy. Ginny set down the pot of brew and took a deep breath before looking at him.

"Listen, I understand if you're upset with me, but-"

"You?" Harry cut her off. "What would I be mad at you for?" He asked, surprised and more than a little confused.

"I knew you wouldn't want me to go the party. I knew you'd want to be there, and I went anyways." She told him, her frown deepening. "And I know that I shouldn't have made such a scene during the dinner. It…it wasn't that big a deal. And I know that you're upset with me for practically attacking you last night…" She dropped her gaze, but not before Harry could see a sheen of tears forming there.

He stood and walked towards her slowly, one foot at a time.

"Ginny, I…I'm not mad for any of those things. I'm not mad at all, actually." He paused, shuffling closer. "You had to go to that gala. It's your family's charity. It would be crazy for you not to. And you were reacting naturally to a horrifying thing, during dinner. I'd have done the same thing, in your shoes." Ginny scoffed softly at him, but lifted her head. He was pleased to find that her eyes were dry.

"And," He continued, "you didn't attack me, last night. I basically pounced on you when you were emotionally compromised…" Here, Ginny scoffed again.

"Harry, I was practically begging you." She her ears turned red and a blush stole into her cheeks. "I just…was really upset and, I…missed…you." She said, her face now bright red.

Harry suddenly didn't know what to do with his hands. He wished he could grab her around the waist and drag her against him, but he didn't think that would fall into the category of "being careful", as Kingsley had warned him.

"I was just as upset as you were." He kept his voice low. "And, honestly, I didn't know what to do with myself for a week, without you."

Ginny's eyes widened.

"Yeah." Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. "But, that doesn't mean that I can just go around kissing you whenever I get the urge-"

"You wanted to kiss me last night?" She asked in amazement. "But…but I thought that I made you! I was-"

"It's not like you had a gun to my head, Gin." Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing that they weren't having this embarrassing conversation. "And, for what it's worth, I enjoyed the begging a little more than I should have." He dropped his hand to glare at her. "But, I repeat, that does not mean that I can just grab you whenever I feel like it."

Her blush had softened to a flattering pink and she gaped at him.

"It's not professional and it will interfere with my duties as your guardian. So, Ginny, that can't happen again, understood?"

She stared at him a moment longer before nodding. "Agreed." She said. Harry nodded, too. They were suddenly both very unsure of themselves, and now he really didn't know what to do with his hands. They shared an awkward moment before she broke the silence.

"What's in the file?" She asked softly, and he snapped to attention, walking back to the table and sliding it towards him.

"I'm not sure…" He opened it. He could feel her eyes on him as he read down a list of ingredients in the potatoes, the types and make of blades from her chicken, the type of blood that had been used (sheep's), and finally, a suspect list. His eyes scanned it and his eyebrows shot up.

"It seems like we have someone in common." He told her, dragging his gaze up from the words in front of him. "What does the name 'Draco Malfoy' mean to you?"

Ginny frowned. "He was the owner of my old soccer team. Why? What's he mean to you?" She looked at him confusedly.

"I just put his dad in jail three months ago, for conspiracy for murder on twelve accounts, for the Riddle case."

Ginny gasped. "What is that list?" She asked, attempting to grab it out of his hands. He pulled back quickly.

"It's a list of suspects. You really don't need to see the rest of it." He added, knowing that she'd be infuriated by a few choice suspects. Her best friend, Luna, for instance, and her new boss, Colin. Ginny scowled at him.

"Fine. But why would Malfoy have motive to harass me?"

"Didn't you leave his team on bad terms?"

Ginny shrugged. "I was at the peak of my career, and his highest grossing player. Would you be happy with me if I left?"

Harry frowned. It seemed like a bit of a stretch to him. He rolled the facts over in his mind and he unfocused his eyes.

He'd have to go into the files at base and look at all of the letters in front of him. He'd also request more lab tests to the doll and the food. He'd see if there was any extra DNA in the blood they'd extracted from the carpets in the Rochester Ballroom.

Maybe if he sent a team to the video control room, they could dust for prints on the panels used to control camera angles. They had to be missing something. The list in his hand was too broad, and he could discredit half of the people on it. He tapped the file on the table and refocused his eyes.

They were staring directly at Ginny chest, and she was staring back at him, smirking smugly. Harry let out a ragged sigh. This was going to be a rough couple of days, until he could convince her, and himself, that her apartment was safe, again.

"Let's get you some of your own clothes, shall we?" he asked, reaching for his phone and dialing the officer in charge of guard duty today.

Ginny grinned and leaned back in her chair, causing her breasts and hard nipples to press against the thin fabric of his shirt.

Harry dropped his head into his hand and specifically requested "as much underwear as you can find" to be sent immediately to his apartment, along with her clothes and some toiletries. Ginny laughed out loud at him.

He was torn between embarrassment at his obvious request, and pleasure that he had distracted her enough to laugh.

A rough couple of days indeed. He thought, trying to keep his eyes off her.

Well, there we have it! Chapter nine. I hate when some stories try and hide that sexual tension is there, or if a kiss happens. I prefer to keep things out in the open. It'll also put some great pressure on Harry's restraint.