Hey everybody! Clearly, I was a little over-ambitious with the whole "one chapter a day" business. I sincerely apologize! I would like to reiterate my promise, however, that I will finish this story. So don't even worry about that.

On a related note, I'm not sure exactly how many "lemons" to put into the story, any thoughts on that? Please let me know your thoughts. Keep the thoughts and comments, thanks for the support, guys! Enjoy.

"Ginny."

"Mmmm."

"Gin wake up."

"Rrrremmmm… ARGH!" Ginny yelped as Harry's hand reached out and pushed her gently, rocking her perilously close to the edge of the bed.

"Phone, Gin." He mumbled, burying his face into the pillow.

"You do it." She grumbled, attempting to settle back into her previous position, using his shoulder as a pillow. He swatted blindly at her, forcing her to open her eyes and glare at him.

"Hate you." She yawned, reaching out and grabbed the phone on the bedside table, which had woken Harry up with its buzzing.

"'lo?" She answered groggily, slamming her hand over the alarm clock and turning it to face her. She rolled her eyes.

"Ginny, dear. It's your mother."

"I know, mum. You're the only one on the planet awake at five o clock." She replied, flopping onto her back and closing her eyes.

"That's just silly, dear. You're awake, as well, now." Molly replied then continued, ignoring Ginny's snort. "We're getting together tonight, darling, and we haven't seen you in so long! Please come. Oh, and bring Harry!"

"I don't have a choice, mom. He's my bodyguard." A smile tugged at Ginny's mouth as the bodyguard in question reached out to pull her closer into him.

"So you'll be there! Excellent. And tell Harry that I'm making that tart he loved so much last time."

"I will, mom. No worries. Good luck on the show today."

"Oh, thank you. Goodbye, darling. And for goodness sakes, get up! The day's already started."

Mrs. Weasley hung up before Ginny could tell her mother that the only thing that had started was Molly Weasley. Ginny threw her phone towards the foot of the bed, wanting to go back to sleep, but knowing it was impossible, now.

She hadn't worked out in a few days. And no, what she'd been doing with Harry didn't count. She turned her head to look at him.

He was laying on his stomach, his muscled arm thrown carelessly over her. Without his glasses, and his hair slightly mussed, and the scant morning light coming in through the curtains, he actually looked innocent. Almost vulnerable. Ginny thought.

She rolled onto her side so that she was facing her. He grunted, her movement waking him back up. Nonetheless, he tightened his hold on her. She ran her hands up his arm and began to drum her fingers on it, keeping her eyes on his face. After a few moments, he frowned.

"Sleep, Ginny."

"I'm awake. Sorry." She said, unapologetically. He sighed but kept his eyes closed. Ginny waited a few more seconds for him to say something, or wake up, but he didn't.

"You're not being very vigilant." She complained, moving her hand up to trace his shoulders. "What if there's a murderous stalker in the room, and he's about to kill me?"

"There's not." He replied, eyes still shut.

"Well, if there were, we'd already both be dead by now." She said. "I'm going to go work out." Harry frowned and finally opened his eyes.

"Fine. Hand me get my glasses." He said, sounding resigned.

"You don't have to come with me…" She said, unconvincingly, knowing full well that he'd want to be in the same room as her. She reached back towards the table and turned back to give him his glasses. He put them on and yawned at her, turning on his side to face her, as well, and scrubbing a hand over his face.

"Hi." She said when he'd finally dropped his hand. He rolled his eyes at her and pulled her even closer, so that she was plastered against him.

"Morning. Are we going to your parents' later?" He yawned again.

"Did you hear that? I thought you were asleep." She said, running her fingers through his hair and lightly scratching his scalp.

"Mmm." He said, enjoying her ministrations. "I'm a bit more vigilant than you think, eh?" He asked. She smiled and reached up to kiss his jaw.

"Indeed." She slid out of the bed.

By the time they'd made it into work, Ginny was feeling so much better about herself. You don't realize how much you miss your workouts till you get back to them. She mused, nodding to some co-workers and opening the door to her office.

Only to come face to face with Colin, her boss.

"What are you…?" Ginny asked as Harry pushed in front of her to survey the room for more people. There was one: Colin's wife.

"Romilda." She said, barely able to keep the sneer out of her voice. The insufferable woman was perched behind her desk, holding one of Ginny's pens and writing on Ginny's stationary. Colin, at least, had the decency to look a little ashamed, where as Romilda was smirking smugly at Ginny.

"You're back." Colin said, stating the obvious. Ginny turned her gaze to him.

"Yes, Colin. I'm back. And I didn't realize that the moment I left, you'd be handing my office over to someone else." She could feel herself growing red as anger rushed through her.

"Technically, you were gone for over a week. I had some extra room, and you know that she's always-"

"Wanted to be a writer, sure. Colin." Ginny finished for him. She glared at the nuisance and slammed her purse down on the desk, scattering post-its and pens as Romilda gasped.

"Well, there's no need to be rude!" she scoffed, pretending offense. Colin reached to, wisely, usher his wife out of the office.

"Well, there's no need for a temp to be using my office! The office I earned with my hard work as a real journalist!" Ginny snapped at the closing door, which effectively cut off Romilda's retort. Ginny sank down into her desk chair with a frustrated sigh and began clearing the woman's mess off of her work space.

"I swear, if I didn't know any better, I'd think that Colin wanted to replace me with his shrew of a wife! But even he's said himself that he doesn't hold out much hope for her writing. Which is a shame, really, seeing as everybody knows she only married him for his connections… What?"

Harry was standing by the door eyeing her, arms crossed. She looked expectantly at him.

"When did you get this office?" He asked. Ginny squinted at him.

"Last year? What's that got to-"

"So it didn't come with your job?" Harry asked.

"No. I started out in a cubicle out on the floor. It was tiny. I only had a plant." She informed him loftily. "It was one of the prettiest orchids I've ever seen. My mother gave it to me as a cubicle-warming present."

"What happened to it?" Harry asked her, giving up his stance at the door and crossing to his normal seat behind her desk.

"The flower?" Ginny had already begun to sort through the pile of mail she'd found stuffed into a drawer, and was re-booting her computer. "Mmm. Well the lovely Mrs. Creevy," Ginny sneered acidly at the door Romilda had just exited, "was supposed to water it while I was on vacation celebrating my promotion. She let it die. Once I moved offices, I didn't really need decorations."

Ginny's voice trailed off while she was reading her e-mails, effectively cutting off conversation.

oOo

Harry tried not to wince as Ginny cranked up the volume, again, on the radio. He ran his thumbs absently over the rich leather of his steering wheel and tried not to remember how much he'd spent on the sub-woofers only to have her blow them out.

"The sound is incredible!" Ginny had to yell over whatever pounding rap she had blasting through his poor baby. She looked wild. She'd rolled the windows down, and the wind was whipping through her hair, the long red locks playing peek-aboo with the small amount of cleavage her cotton dress showed.

She looked like the perfect bad-boy fantasy. Perfect for his car, his life…him? Harry shook his head slightly and felt bass thump through his body, distracting him. It was a great sound.

I paid enough for it to be. Harry mused, turning into The Burrow and automatically reaching to turn down the music. Ginny squinted and pouted at him.

"I was listening to that." She told him.

"You still are, only now it's at a level of decibels that won't explode your eardrums." He replied.

"Sleeping with you is getting me nothing, nada. I can't drive your car, I can't touch the radio-"

"First, no one gets to drive my car but me. That was an established rule way before you came along. Second," Harry slid smoothly behind Ron's car and shifted into park before looking at her, "You can feel free to touch whatever you want, but once we drive into residential areas, there are laws that control noise pollution."

"Such a cop." Ginny muttered.

"And third, I'd like to point our that sleeping with me is actually getting you something, and that would be…the chance to sleep with me." Harry's voice lowered an octave, making Ginny shiver.

"Well, there is that…" She smiled at him, leaning over the console for a kiss. Harry, of course, gave in and gave himself over to kissing her. He groaned when her hands ran up his thigh, resting lightly just…so…close…

"Hey, there."

Harry jerked back into his seat, turning his head to look out his window that his neck cracked.

"Ow." He muttered, sheepishly looking up at Ron and Hermione, who were standing together next to his car.

"Hi." Ginny tried to sound bright as she opened her door and slid out, but Harry caught the smallest bit of strain in her voice.

Well, it's not like either of you are thrilled to be caught making out in her parents' driveway by her brother. Harry chided himself, slowly stepping out of the car as well. Ron was staring at him, head cocked and eyes squinted. Hermione was next to him and she looked like she was trying to keep a smile off her face.

"Ginny, would you help me with some books I brought for your dad?" She asked, a definite smirk creeping into her voice. The girls gathered the books and walked into the house, leaving Harry and Ron looking at each other.

"So, you and my sister." Ron said. It was not a question. Harry felt himself blush crimson.

"It's not like we planned or any-"

"I get it, ok? It just happened. I get that." He chuckled and broke Harry's gaze to flicker his eyes at the house where his wife had just disappeared. "The family is not going to know a thing about this." Ron warned, his eyes back on Harry and his voice hard.

"Ok? They can't know. You're lucky I'm her favorite and would never tell." Ron said, making Harry smile weakly. Ron looked at him consideringly for a moment longer before nodding.

"Alright. Here's the thing. I like you enough not to beat you up and give you the whole "big brother" speech, ok? Relax." Ron clapped Harry on the shoulder, making him wince voluntarily and making Ron laugh. "Just don't hurt her and be safe, ok? Otherwise…" Ron trailed off and gave Harry a serious, horrifyingly menacing look. Harry suddenly had no doubts that Ron had started out in the force. He swallowed hard.

"Well, I'm not planning to." He said. "The first part, I mean. The second, I mean… she's…protected?"

"AND that's our cue to stop talking and walk inside and pretend this never happened and that I don't know anything." Ron said suddenly, saving Harry the embarrassment of having to talk on the subject anymore.

"Did you see the Bulls game?" He asked weakly as they walked into the house. Ron gladly picked up the new conversation.

"Harry, dear! And Ron." Mrs. Weasley looked up from a mixing bowl and beamed. "It's so good to see you. Oh." She fussed when Ron came over to kiss her cheek, stealing a cherry out of the bowl as he did so. "Everyone's outside." She told them, tugging on a pair of oven mitts a second before the oven timer went off.

"I swear, it's a gift. She's practically magic in the kitchen. Psychic or something." Ron told Harry as they walked to the Weasley's back patio. Everyone was, indeed, outside.

A few of the wives and girlfriends, including Hermione who was pouring over a thick tome with Mr. Weasley, were seated at a long picnic table. The rest of the family, however…

"Whoa." Harry said, pleasantly impressed. Ron grinned.

"Great, isn't it? Dad had it built when we were younger and started playing, and then when Ginny went pro, it just made sense to have." He stepped off the patio into the Weasley's yard, which was set up with the correct dimensions, lines and goals of a professional soccer field.

Harry settled down to watch as Ginny stole the ball from Bill and dribble it down the field, kicking it and barely shooting it past Ron, who was in the goal. Three or four brothers threw their hands up and shouted.

"Harry!" one of the twins called to him. He had been sitting on the steps of the patio, but stood quickly when he saw the soccer ball hurtling towards the deck. Aligning himself with the ball, he hopped and allowed it to bounce off his chest, falling harmlessly to the ground.

Harry looked up to whichever twin had delivered the wayward shot, and kicked it to him. The whole yard watched when the ball sailed smooth and straight, bouncing and then coming to rest gently directly at Fred (or George)'s feet. The game continued after some whistles and cat-calls in Harry's direction, but Ginny planted her hands on her hips and looked at him.

"Did I know you played?" she asked. Harry shrugged and she scrunched her nose at him before holding up a hand up. She darted quickly and stole the ball from under Angelina's feet, and sent it whizzing to Harry.

"Hey!" Angelina said but Ginny shrugged.

"We have uneven teams. I wanna see what he can do. Unless, that was a lucky shot." She goaded him. Her brothers 'ooooh'd and clapped at him. Harry kept Ginny's gaze and used his toe to flip the ball easily into the air in front of him.

He watched the ball and began to bounce it from knee to knee before finally rearing back and rocketing it to the other side of the field. The boys clapped and Ginny cocked her head.

"I was captain of my team at Hog's Head." Harry shrugged, walking out to her where she was in the field.

"Well, sure. Because that's something that never would have come up in normal conversation before now. Ya know, with me having played professionally!" She mock yelled at him, but it was determined that he would play for Charlie's team, and they wasted at least another hour out on the field before piling onto the picnic table for dinner.

"You're actually pretty good." Ron told him around a mouthful of potatoes. Harry grinned when Hermione elbowed her husband. "Manners." She told him absently before turning back to her discussion with Bill.

"I didn't realize how much I missed it." Harry confessed, taking a sip of juice. "Aside from the odd pick-up game at academy, there's not much free time for it. Especially in my line of work."

Ron nodded.

"How's that going, by the way?" He asked, lowering his voice and pointing his chin at Ginny, who was further down the table. Harry sighed.

"It's rough. She's perfectly fine, of course, safety-wise, because we're taking some serious precautions, but it's almost like as soon as I came along, the threats got more frequent and more violent." Harry decided not the tell Ron that the violent mail was coming in every day now, and some had begun to have some seriously deranged messages.

"Do you have many leads?" Ron asked, spearing some broccoli with his fork.

"Not as much as I'd like. Right now, we're basically down to a handful of people that don't exactly match up. We're missing something Their name starts with an 'M', they live in the downtown area of Manhattan, and they've made a recent doll purchase at FAO Schwartz. But that doesn't really narrow it down."

Ron nodded slowly, then checked around them to see if anyone was paying attention to them. He leaned in and spoke softly.

"I used some old connections to go over her file a few days ago." He said. "I noticed that there wasn't anything in there about one of her old boyfriends, Michael Corner. He's in Manhattan now, from what I hear. And I know that he and Gin didn't part on friendly terms."

Harry sat back in his chair, watching as Ron went to town on another chicken wing. Why had that information been missing from her initial file? Everything from her social security number to her favorite foods were in there. Harry looked down the table at her. She caught his eye and smiled dazzlingly at him.

Either someone at headquarters doesn't want me to know about Michael Corner, he thought, or she doesn't.