Chapter Two

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As always, these characters do not belong to me.

'Harry?' Ginny asked surprised as the dog continued to bark at him. 'Arnold, down!' she called to the dog. Arnold, the Jack Russell fell silent, his eyes twinkling in Harry's direction.

'I had forgotten I gave you the house,' Harry said conversationally, though his voice was tired.

'What's going on?' Ginny asked, believing he was really Harry. He watched as her silhouette placed the broom against the wall and took a step closer towards him.

'There was a … complication. No, Ginny don't,' Harry said quickly when he realised she had walked closer to turn on the porch light.

She gasped as Harry squinted at the sudden bright, blinding light. Once his eyes adjusted, they focused on the young woman with her frightened gaze set on his face. He had seen her briefly in the papers and on television, even on those rare occasions he stopped by Ron's parent's house relaying news or simply to have something to eat, but something had changed in her. Her long red hair was pulled up in a simple ponytail and her dark shirt and casual jeans were nothing special but her years under scrutiny from the media and tough training regime had made her face lose its childish look. Harry was now seeing her as the young woman she had been and not the little teenager he saw at school and found he was slightly mesmerized by it, as he once was in high school briefly.

She kneeled down beside him, her eyes etched with concern as Arnold trotted closer too. 'What happened?' she asked quietly, gazing at his cuts and bruises.

'They aren't as bad as they look,' Harry told her, meaning his injuries. She gave him a sceptical look, which made him smile although it pained him. He let the smile drop from his face.

'We are in terrible trouble now.'

'The Death Eaters?' Ginny asked and when Harry nodded, asked another. 'Where's Ron? Hermione? The others?'

Harry's chest tightened again and he grimaced. He should have lied to her, so she didn't worry but gazing into her brown eyes, so full of concern but determination, Harry spoke truthfully.

'I don't know. We were separated. I was going to meet up with them after I completed the job I set out to do but they weren't there when I returned. And the bases … the Death Eaters know everything Ginny. I can't say who is alive or not but I … I'm sorry,' he finished lamely.

Ginny nodded, her face pale. She appraised Harry's current state, who continued to watch her reaction. She absentmindedly scratched Arnold's ears, who had pressed his face beside her crouched form when she grew silent. Her eyes were unfocused as she stared straight ahead.

'We can't contact them, not yet,' he murmured, reading her thoughts. She focused back on him. 'It's not safe. You're not safe, not with me. I should go.'

Harry hadn't even shifted before Ginny placed a hand firmly on his shoulder, preventing him moving.

'In your state? Harry it's a miracle you even made your way here.'

'Do I look that bad then?' Harry asked with a small smile.

'Well, do you normally cover your face with blood?'

Harry chuckled, moving his right leg as he did so. It brushed against the wall and erupted into a painful fire. He cried out, trying to stifle it too late. Ginny jumped and glanced down.

'You have something stuck in your leg!' Ginny cried, her voice rising.

'Probably shrapnel from the explosion,' Harry explained. He closed his eyes, refusing to look at it and tried breathing loudly through his nose to mask the pain.

He opened his eyes to focus on Ginny, whose eyes were wide with shock at how casual he was. She swallowed and took a deep breath before inspecting it.

'It's not deep,' she told him. 'But it has to come out.'

She stood up, unlocking and throwing open the door where Arnold ran happily inside. She bent down beside Harry, placing his arm around her shoulders as she tried to pull him to his feet.

'I'm okay, Ginny, really,' Harry said weakly, but as soon as he was standing, he swayed dangerously before leaning heavily against her.

She pulled him into the darkness of the house, Harry trying to help her with his weight but his legs seemed to still be too weak from his exhaustion. Their shins collided with unknown obstacles as they travelled further in and every bump was another stab of pain to Harry's right leg. He sucked in a breath through his teeth. He dimly tried to recall the layout of his house but realised that Ginny had probably redecorated to suit her needs a long time ago.

He remembered however, that the living room and the kitchen were all one room, with the kitchen sectioned off by a long, floating island bench. The small hallway began at the edge of the island, where its pale walls led to a bedroom a few metres down to the left, adjoining a reasonable sized bathroom. Opposite to the bedroom and bathroom was a spacious spare room Harry had left bare, with its light blue coloured walls.

At the end of the hall was the main bedroom that was probably the size of the living area, complete with an ensuite and walk in wardrobe. Harry recalled the king size bed, with its polished wooden frame and the softest mattress Harry could find, the carpet that was almost as comfortable as the mattress made that made your toes sink into its cushioned material. The dark tiled ensuite had a large bathtub beside a glass panelled shower and a stone sink and bench top, which matched the stone used on the kitchen benches and island.

'Harry, just down here,' Ginny panted, pushing Harry down.

Harry grunted as he fell heavily onto Ginny's couch, wincing as the reverberations from the landing rocketed through his leg. He heard Ginny shuffle off as he lurched back until his head was resting on the arm rest. He was surprised to find his entire body fit on the couch and then remembered he had purchased it mainly for that reason.

'You kept all of my furniture?' Harry called out into the darkness. He sat back up, leaning against the head frame of the couch while he rummaged for a pillow to elevate his leg on.

'Of course I did,' came Ginny's voice from in front of him. 'There was nothing wrong with them. Do you think just because they were yours I would throw them out?'

'Last girlfriend did,' Harry muttered as he was blinded once again from the lights.

Ginny was smirking with a shrewd expression from her point at the wall, the switch underneath her fingertips.

'I'm not your girlfriend,' Ginny said with the same odd expression on her face.

'I … uh, yeah I know … just an example,' Harry stuttered out after her as she went back outside.

What made him say that? Of course she wasn't. He hadn't seen Ginny in months and now for their reunion he showed up half dead on her door step muttering about old girlfriends. It was almost as good as him showing up drunk and causing unnecessary drama for her with the tabloids. Then again, he was already causing her issues by endangering her and her entire family with their resistance efforts against the Death Eaters.

He tried to forget his embarrassment by gazing around the room. It was just as he had set it up those years ago. The widescreen television hung against the dark painted feature wall. Underneath it sat a beautiful hand crafted wooden cabinet where the DVD player and stereo sat, along with a random selection of movies and albums Harry had never really watched or listened to. A tall bookcase made of the same wood as the cabinet stood in the corner next to the glass doors that led out onto the wooden deck and backyard Harry insisted he had. The thick, cream coloured curtains were shut though so Harry didn't know what became of his backyard. A Persian rug lay on the ground in front of him underneath a small wooden table with a couple of recent magazines on its face. Harry could see the matching armchairs and their small adjoining tables that was the reason for the bruises forming on his shins.

'Okay, okay,' Ginny muttered to herself, re-entering the room.

Harry had almost forgotten she was there. She threw the bandages, salves, scissors and bowl she was carrying onto the small wooden table and sat across from his leg, gazing at it with trepidation. Harry knew he should look at the wound himself and see what damage was there but he couldn't bring himself to look away from Ginny's face. He had forgotten she had a scatter of freckles along her cheeks and nose.

Her brown eyes met his green ones before he could hide the fact he was staring at her. She bit her lip as she gazed at him. Harry remembered seeing her bite her lip when she was nervous back in school when he used to watch her play football. Even back then there was talk about her becoming a professional player with her talent, not to mention her striking features would greatly enhance that. Some were even convinced Harry would make it, but Harry had other more pressing issues to do besides kick a ball around. He sometimes wondered what he would be like if he had chosen to accept one of the offers from the clubs to sign him up and play professionally, just to will away some of the more tedious hours of his job.

'I have to cut around the … um, shrapnel. Is that okay?' Ginny asked him, nervously.

Harry laughed, which sounded like a bark. 'That's what you are worried about, if I had an attachment to my jeans? You can go right ahead, if you haven't noticed but the state of these clothes is fit for nothing but the rubbish bin.'

Ginny smiled and began cutting up the seam of his pants. Harry watched how her face scowled in concentration as she tried to pry the section of jeans away from the shrapnel and not cause him further pain. The jeans stuck to his skin from the dried blood and he watched as Ginny slowly became whiter.

'Ginny,' Harry said, placing his hand on her arm to make her stop. 'Let me do this. I've already caused too much of an inconvenience.'

'And how are you going to manage to pry it out and manage your other injuries as well?' she asked fiercely.

Harry smiled consolingly at her. He gently took the scissors out of her hand and placed it beside her on the table. He sat up, placing his foot on the table and finally looked at his wound. He sighed. The piece of metal wasn't nearly as big as he suspected it was, nor, judging by its size, was deeply embedded either. Ginny was right; it was a shallow impalement. The skin surrounding the metal was bruised a dark purple but Harry couldn't see any traces of blood poisoning to which he was grateful.

'I want to help,' Ginny insisted.

Harry gazed into her eyes again. 'Helping me won't get us any closer to knowing how your family is,' he told her softly.

'I know that,' Ginny snapped, looking away. 'Just let me at least do something useful, will you?'

'You let me in your house,' Harry suggested.

Ginny snorted. 'Technically it's still yours. I'm just borrowing it.'

Harry sighed at her stubbornness. 'If you really want to, go ahead.' He leaned back against the chair, closing his eyes.

Harry cried out in pain as Ginny pulled it out; rather harshly Harry thought. Ten minutes later Harry had calmed down enough for Ginny to get a closer look at his leg. Harry had thrown the metal piece unceremoniously into the bowl on the table after she had given it to him.

'How on earth did you manage to walk here on that?' Ginny asked him, cleaning around the wound.

Harry winced before replying. 'I, uh, I can't really remember the journey.'

Ginny hesitated, slowly placing on the salve. 'Harry,' Ginny began seriously. 'When did you last eat?'

'Oh …' Harry had to rack his brains. 'Um … I had some wild berries and mushrooms around lunch.'

'Is that all?' Ginny was now taping the salve to his leg.

'Well, yeah,' Harry was a little confused. 'I had to get away. I didn't have time to worry about that.'

Ginny stood up so abruptly and was in the kitchen before Harry blinked twice. He swivelled so he could watch her and keep his leg on the table as she brought out food after food from the stainless steel fridge. Harry's stomach grumbled loudly; only when Ginny had brought it up did he realise the pain in stomach was from hunger. Ginny smiled at Harry's stomach, making him blush.

'As I thought,' Ginny said and continued to cook, reminding Harry slightly of her mother.

Harry looked away from Ginny and tried to put his hunger aside. He was deeply concerned about Ron and Hermione and where they had ended up; whether they had found somewhere safe to be. He placed his head in his hands, only to feel his dried blood coating his face. He got to his feet, stumbling down to the bathroom. Harry could feel Ginny's eyes on him but this time he stayed focused on staying on his feet.

The light to the bathroom bathed everything in a warm glow. He lifted his eyes slowly to the face reflected in the mirror. His face was almost unrecognisable as the cuts to his hairline from the explosion bled extensively. Sweat tracks had erased some of the blood but he still had a lot to clean. He grabbed the washer and began wiping it away, wincing when he found a hidden cut. In the end, Harry had two cuts left on his hairline, a fat lip, bruised cheek and a rather sore nose.

He slowly made his way back to the kitchen, limping on his leg. Ginny heard his lumbered footsteps and was waiting for him at the small, four seater table just inside the front door, a little to the left from it.

'Steak,' Harry said hoarsely.

He dived onto the seat where he began to devour his dinner. He grunted his thanks after his third mouthful, his plate already half empty. Ginny ate quietly opposite him, her eyes lifting to him every few seconds.

'Harry you might want to slow down,' she suggested cautiously, as he ripped his bread bun with his teeth. 'You'll make yourself sick.'

Harry, who could think of a few suggestions he wanted to tell Ginny about eating slowly, swallowed the food in his mouth difficulty. He was, after all, a guest in her house, no matter how much she insisted it was his, so he tried to do as she said. He drank the entire jug of water after he had finished eating.

'I'm sorry,' Harry muttered at the table. 'I didn't realise …'

Ginny laughed. 'There is plenty of water in the tap.'

Harry chuckled too. 'So, how long has it been, Ginny? Three months?'

Ginny smiled ruefully. 'Three months since I saw you running out of Mum's house because you thought you had made a breakthrough. It's been around five since we had last spoken and that was two sentences, which, I believe went along the lines of you asking me if I liked the house and then you went again.'

'Ah …' Harry looked away bashfully, grinning through his embarrassment. 'I've been a bit of a toss then, huh?'

'Not so much,' Ginny was smiling sympathetically. 'A little, yeah.' Harry laughed. 'But you've been off trying to save everyone. Would make anyone a little harried.'

'Harried?' Harry repeated, with another chuckle. 'Says the football superstar that the newspapers crave to photograph.'

'You really have been out of the loop,' Ginny said surprised. 'They haven't been after me for a while.'

She stood up, walked around to Harry's side of the table. She lifted up her right leg jean to reveal a bandaged ankle. 'A month ago, I was at the wrong end of an even worse tackle.' Ginny sighed, dropping her jeans, returning to her seat.

'Needless to say, I've been out of action ever since. I'm hoping in a few weeks I can play before the semis but with all of this on …' She waved at Harry and around him and sighed. 'Well, we'll just see.'

'They want their takeover to be as subtle as possible,' Harry said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. 'So subtle, in fact, that by the time anyone realises it will be too late.' He smiled at her. 'I think you would be right to play by any chance.'

They fell into silence, each consumed with their own thoughts. Harry, himself was wondering once again about Ron and Hermione and the other members of the resistance.

'Harry?' Ginny asked softly. Harry looked up, Ron and Hermione vanishing from his eyes. 'What's going to happen now? With the Death Eaters and us?'

Harry sighed. 'I wish I knew, Ginny. I really do but I can only guess.' Harry rubbed his eyes, his contacts were starting to irritate him. 'Ron and Hermione were going to get as many of our people into hiding before the Death Eaters got too stronger of a foothold. There isn't much now we can do except make the Death Eaters believe they have finally defeated us.'

'That means you should stay here, at least,' Ginny said.

'I can't, I have to find out what is going on.'

'Harry,' Ginny said in her voice that made him pause. 'Think about it. How many Death Eaters saw you last night causing havoc?'

'How did you … I never said that,' Harry mumbled.

Ginny gave him an exasperated look. 'I'm not stupid. As many of you seem to think.'

'I don't think –,' Harry began but Ginny waved him away.

'The point I'm trying to make Harry is that they know you were behind this and once they know you survived that explosion they will be after you. Tom Riddle especially will want the one who destroyed their base.'

'They probably already do,' Harry said hollowly. He explained to Ginny what happened after the explosion. 'Those Death Eaters would have told Riddle I have escaped.'

'Stay here,' Ginny said. 'I can go in your place and –.'

'No,' Harry interrupted forcefully. 'The reason we didn't allow you to join with our resistance still stands, Ginny. And you are a public figure now. It's all the more reason for you to seem oblivious to your family's antics.'

Ginny looked on the verge of retorting but instead stood from the table, grabbing their dishes and heading to the kitchen. Harry turned slowly in his seat to watch her rigid shoulders dump their leftovers in the bin under the sink and then place the dishes in the dishwasher. She was trying to contain her anger, Harry realised this as a similar way Mrs Weasley dealt with her anger. Eventually Ginny turned to him, but she was gazing at her hand that was skimming along the island top.

'I'm not sixteen anymore,' Ginny said softly.

'I know, Ginny,' Harry replied. He stood and limped to her side, ignoring the pains from his injuries.

'So why am I not allowed to help fight? It's what I want.'

Ginny looked at him then. Harry was often intrigued by how different Ginny was to other girls. While other girls would whine and complain, even throw a tantrum and end up crying to get their way, Ginny argued fact with fact and although she got what she wanted most of the time, she was hardly one to cry over things. Harry admired her for that.

'Ginny, I could explain to you how it's safer and relay all of the other reasons we gave you four years ago but you wouldn't listen,' Harry replied. 'It is the truth though, whether you want to hear it or not. The way I see it with all of your family involved it may become inevitable that you fight. But only,' Harry added loudly as Ginny began to reply. 'When we are out of options, Ginny. I don't want you to be exposed as a resistance fighter while you are still in the public eye.'

'That's still an acceptance to the group,' Ginny said happily, with a smile. Harry shook his head but was smiling nonetheless at her enthusiasm. 'So, shall I set up the spare bedroom for you?'

'Ah …' Harry scratched the back of his head, making his hair become even messier. 'Actually, that couch was rather inviting. I think I'll just crash there.'

'Are you sure?' Ginny asked but Harry was already working his way to the couch.

'Positive,' Harry said with a small smile, landing on the couch with a thump.

'You don't want a blanket or anything?' Ginny asked.

'Nar, its fine, thank you. I'll just use this.'

Harry grabbed the runner on top of the couch and threw it over himself. He fluffed up some of the pillows before flopping down against them, making sure his leg was secure. The lights turned off and he could hear Ginny making her way down the hall and into her bedroom. Harry withdrew his contacts from his eyes and placed them on the table, knowing they were now useless. Harry closed his eyes, listening to Ginny moving about her room while he waited for sleep to come.