Chapter Nine

It may be a while before I update again, so here is a longer chapter that will hopefully keep you satisfied.

As always, these characters do not belong to me.

'Am I expecting you to run out on me again seeing as your manger called?' Harry asked around a mouthful of eggs ten minutes later.

'A couple of days,' Ginny clarified. 'Though I had to promise him I was do a thorough warm down. Want to help?' she winked playfully.

'I actually have to do something for the Order,' Harry said apologetically. 'It's probably the only useful thing I can do from here.'

'I hate it when you go into the mindset of Death Eaters,' Ginny sighed. Harry was surprised how attuned she had become as an outsider to the Order. 'You always seem to leave and every time a piece of you stays lost. One day you may never come back.'

Harry reached over and took her hand. 'I'm not going anywhere. Riddle's final plan is stumping all of them. It has something to do with me, that I do know but if we are to finally get ahead of them, I need to get a rough sketch of this plan.'

'I know. I don't like it but I know.' She got to her feet and kissed his temple, trailing her hand up his arm and skimming along his face. 'Just don't get too worked up in it.'

She left to do some yoga routines while Harry brought out his notepad. He sighed, thinking of Ginny in the next room. Resisting the urge to go and join her, he flicked through to a spare page and began to sketch a profile of Tom Riddle. It was easier to imagine thoughts and actions of Death Eaters if he could see their face, read it in their eyes or expression he had seen them wear. He started with Riddle's cold eyes, taking much more care to get them correct. The rest of the facial profile took just over an hour. He stared into the eyes of his enemy and seemed to feel the papered eyes bore into his.

Riddle was a manipulator and even among his Death Eaters he was a monopoly. He wouldn't trust anyone with his final plan; not its entirety. He may convey some of his ideas to certain number of his cohorts but he would keep the majority of it to himself. Harry decided to work from what everyone already knew about Riddle's desires and delve further from there. It was no surprise that Riddle wanted Harry dead and had wanted him out of the way since he took the mantel from Sirius and Dumbledore, so that news wasn't worth hiding. The details he had of disposing Harry, however, was the issue at hand. That and his method of discovering where Harry was.

Harry sat back in his chair, keeping the sketch in sight. He distantly heard Ginny milling around him but his focus was on Riddle. He began to write scenario after scenario, going over options and then branching to other options if the previous ones fell through. Eventually he ran out of paper and had made no head way. Each plan he devised either hit snags or just wouldn't fit Riddle's repertoire. His frustration had him wanting to throw the notebook as hard as he could at the wall. He stopped himself from doing that but he did push it across the table. He rocked his chair onto its back legs, resting his head against the back wall, knocking his glasses to the top of his head and closing his eyes. He pictured himself as Riddle, regally sitting near a fireplace, gazing intently into the flames.

Potter had surprised him so far; a feat he did not think was possible. His evasion of capture and his vanishing act was growing tedious. His Death Eaters were grating on his nerves with their continuing failures. If he was ever going to capture Harry Potter he would have to think of it on his own. Riddle gently stroked the head of Nagini, his python, ignoring the wheezing of his servant nearby.

Potter has proven he would do anything for the ones he loved. He had a nobility trait that irked Riddle but after the murdering of that family failed to get Potter moving, Riddle needed to think deeper. He would have to target people closer to Potter to draw his attention, though Riddle dared to say Potter was much too clever to tell his friends where he was hiding. No, the Order would not be involved with this.

Someone was helping him. Potter could not have survived this long from raids and searches alone. Whoever this person was had a tight rein on his wayward heroism. They would care for Potter, for his wellbeing but how deep was this care? This was the person who would reveal Potter's hideaway but they would be as tight lipped as any member of the Order. They could find and torture them but Riddle doubted they would give in so easily.

Riddle frowned at the fire. Love. It always came back to that. Riddle didn't understand the idea of love but maybe if he manipulated those feelings to his advantage, then he will have him. Potter had thwarted him for too long. He should have given up once his beloved Godfather and mentor were killed. Riddle considered sparing his life if he had turned away from the Order. Yet, he stayed and fought and thereby sealed his fate. Riddle will have no remorse when the time came. So who loved Potter enough to inadvertently sell him out?

'Harry? Harry!'

Harry's eyes snapped open. His glasses fell from his head and onto the bridge of his nose. Ginny was standing beside him, clearly concerned when he wouldn't respond to her first cry. A towel was sitting along her shoulders and she was panting slightly, meaning she must have only just finished her gym routine. Harry gazed at her wide-eyed, blinking furiously to get her into focus.

'What, what's wrong?' Harry asked, clearing his throat from misuse.

'You've been sitting here for hours,' Ginny replied worried. 'You haven't eaten all day.'

'No,' Harry said in disbelief. 'Surely not …' He trailed off and took in his surroundings.

The lights in the kitchen were on. Shocked, Harry looked past Ginny to the nearby window, where the darkness had truly fallen. Harry could even see a few stars twinkling at him. It was cooler too, and Harry felt the hair rise on his arms as a breeze swept through the house.

'I had only just closed my eyes,' Harry tried to explain feebly.

'Some nap time,' Ginny remarked. Satisfied he wasn't unconscious or dying, she went back to her dinner on the stove.

'I wasn't napping, I was …' Harry drifted off again, trying to remember his last thought. He was picturing himself as Riddle and he was thinking about how he didn't seem to know love and … Harry snorted in a surprised wonder. 'He's going to exploit people's love,' Harry said quietly.

'Sorry?' Ginny asked over her shoulder.

'Oh, nothing, I just …' Harry lunged across the table to the notepad. 'Need to write this down,' he said distractedly as he scrambled to find the pen.

He remembered at some point Ginny placing a toasted sandwich in front of him. He ate mechanically, not really tasting the flavour as he scribbled down his ideas, feeling elated. He had a foundation of Riddle's plan; the only problem now was waiting to see how he was going to execute it. The wait is what was going to be the most painful. It was like a chess game; the Order couldn't make their move until the Death Eaters made theirs. Harry knew Riddle would want to remove him at the soonest opportunity. He would approach Harry's capture indirectly, as he always did with these situations. The question was who would figure out Harry's connections to people outside of the Order.

'Harry,' Ginny said, interrupting him. 'It's nearly ten. Put that away and come to bed.'

'Yeah, in a minute,' he murmured, looking at his notes.

He heard her huff and walk away, not giving it a second thought. He just needed that final piece and he would be able to thwart Riddle's plan. If Harry wasn't in his hands, then he wouldn't be able to play his last ploy. The only trouble was he couldn't work out the final piece no matter which way he looked at it. It was like a word was stuck on the tip of his tongue and he couldn't spit it out. Harry heard Ginny come back into the kitchen but it was only when she sighed loudly did he look up and then his jaw dropped.

Ginny was standing in the kitchen in a black lace camisole and underwear, her hair swinging loosely down her back. Harry's eyes widened at Ginny's brash pyjama choice but he didn't have the voice to complain about it. In fact, he had lost his voice altogether. The pen dropped from his fingers and rolled onto the ground where it lay forgotten. She wandered over to the pantry, oblivious to Harry's eyes following her every movement.

'Do you know if we have any tea bags left?' she asked innocently, staring directly at him.

Harry took a couple of goes to reply. 'I … I think …' Harry coughed. 'They should be in there,' he finished breathlessly.

Ginny stretched to look in deeper and Harry felt himself leaning closer to her. He noticed how his whole body reacted to her and if his mind hadn't have gone blank he might have been embarrassed. As it was, he was certainly paying attention to her now, which he suspected, was the desired effect. She pulled back and shrugged. 'I can't see any,' she sighed dramatically. 'Oh well, next time. I'll see you in bed then.'

With a sly smile she turned and walked away, her hair swishing loosely behind her. Harry wasn't watching her hair. After the shadows of the hallway had consumed her frame, Harry sat staring after her, trying to work out what had happened. Harry glanced down at his notes briefly. Then he was up and striding down the hallway in the next second. He heard the book fall to the ground with a crash but he had only one thought on his mind.

Ginny was leaning against the door frame waiting for him, a smirk playing on her lips. If Harry was thinking properly he would have realised she was celebrating her victory. Instead, he flew headlong at her. He reached out, wanting to press himself against her but she placed her hands out on his chest, preventing him coming any closer.

'Oh, don't think you're getting this that easily,' Ginny chastised. 'You have to work for it.'

Harry groaned in longing, his arms already fishing her waist. She swatted him away, playfully trailing her lips along his jaw towards his earlobe, nipping it with her teeth. Harry almost came undone then and there. Harry said the first thing that popped into his head.

'I'm sorry,' Harry panted. 'I ignored you. I was rude to you. I got too involved like you warned I would. I'm sorry for that.'

Satisfied, Ginny grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him into the room. Harry's hands finally found her waist and he was kissing her before she had time to think and imply any other rules he had to follow.

The Death Eater dropped the knife with a scream of pain. Harry bent to retrieve it, the Death Eater on his heels. Harry was grabbed from behind, getting hauled to his feet. Harry's arms flailed wildly, the knife clutched in his right hand. He threw Harry away from him, making Harry stagger unsteadily as he tried to remain on his feet. The Death Eater tackled Harry before he could regain his balance. Harry fell to the ground, the Death Eater atop of him. Instinctively, Harry put his hands up in-between the two of them, keeping his head aloft so it didn't smash on the ground. Harry felt the wind knocked out of him, even more so as the Death Eater fell heavily against him. The Death Eater was slumped on Harry and in a fit of anger, Harry threw him off.

Harry swung into a crouch, already looking down at his hand, knowing what he would see. Harry dropped the dripping knife, horror and revulsion rising in him like bile. His eyes travelled to the Death Eater as they had done a million times but when the hood fell down, it wasn't the teenage boy staring at Harry. Ginny's beautiful brown eyes were masked with shock and fear, her mouth open as if to ask Harry why. Harry's whole body shook and his eyes began to water as he watched Ginny die. He tried to apologise but how could he when all he was thinking over and over. 'I killed her … I killed her …'

Harry woke with a start, gasping as he tried to get his breath back. Ginny was sitting beside him, clearly distressed. Harry looked her up and down, scanning for the knife wound he was sure he had given her. He cried out in relief when he couldn't see any blood and slumped against her, hugging her tightly. As they held each other, Harry's heart rate slowed and his breaths steadied. He had calmed down enough to hear her repeating his name as she demanded to know what was wrong. He pulled away from her so he could wipe the sweat from his face.

'I'm okay. Just a dream,' Harry said, not sure who he was trying to console. He reached for his glasses.

'Harry, you were screaming my name,' Ginny explained, unconvinced of Harry's assurance. 'You were saying my name and then you were apologising, over and over, until you screamed and woke up.'

'Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.' Harry ran his hand through his hair.

'Are you going to tell me what you dreamt or are you going to let me imagine because I'm sure imagining some pretty graphic things.'

Harry sighed. He looked back into her concerned face as she scanned his face for an answer. Harry brought his hand to her cheek, his lips twitching into a small smile. She was wearing his shirt and no doubt his boxers again. This time instead of exciting him, it just made him feel worse. His hand fell from her face and his eyes went down to his lap.

'Ginny, what if I told you I had killed people?' he asked her quietly. 'That I am a murderer.'

'Murderer is a harsh word, Harry,' Ginny replied.

'But, let's say that's true,' Harry pressed. 'What would you do?'

'I don't care,' Ginny said. Harry looked at her in surprise. 'I know I haven't been fighting alongside you with the Order but after seeing Bill's scars I realised that its a matter of life or death out there. You chose to live, Harry and the sad circumstance of that means sometimes someone else had to die.'

'But who am I to make that choice? He was only a boy, Ginny. The first one I killed. It was an accident, I forgot I had taken his knife and it was in my hand and he tackled me … You must understand, I hate killing. Hate it. I don't kill unless I absolutely have no other option.'

'And that's why you aren't a bad person. Having these nightmares is you feeling remorse for your actions. Murderers don't feel that, Harry. They feel nothing. Riddle, feels nothing.'

'Ginny, in the dream … I killed you, not the boy.' Harry looked away ashamed at how weak he must look.

'I trust you, Harry. If you don't want to kill me, then you won't do it.'

'It's not that simple.'

'Yes. It is.'

Harry tired to discern her emotions. She was always calm and resolute, he thought as she returned his gaze. She believed in him, believed he was a better person than he ever thought he could be. There were times though when Harry had seen her vulnerable side, when she didn't think anyone was watching her. Maybe Ginny needed him as well; she just didn't need to analyse it to know that.

Harry reached out and grabbed her wrist. In the dimness of the early morning light, he saw Ginny blink, trying to contain her curiosity. He gently pulled her arm across until her hand was resting on the scar on his left rib cage jutting diagonally down toward his belly button. It was only a small scar, maybe only three inches at most. Ginny ran her fingers over the smooth ridge, looking to him for an explanation.

'All scars have their tales,' Harry said. 'It's almost like you are imprinting stories and memories onto your skin so you will never forget them, but only a special few get to know about them.'

'This is from the boy,' she stated to which Harry nodded, breathing in deeply. His skin was tingling from her touch.

Ginny's fingers moved from that scar. Her eyes lifted to his, lost in thought. She shifted so she could be closer to him and once there, she placed her lips lightly on the scar. Harry sucked in a sharp breath. She smiled as she motioned that Harry place his arms out in front of him. He did so, intrigued and Ginny ran her fingers softly across his skin, making Harry's heart pound. Her fingers didn't travel far when she found another scar on Harry's right inner arm.

'What is this one from?' she asked, gazing at him.

'You want to know where all of my scars are from?' he asked.

'You said they were stories only to be told to a select few. I would like to know,' Ginny shrugged with a smile.

Harry snorted, but complied with her wish. 'I was helping to build a small shed with Ron and the piece of steel slipped when we were trying to keep it on the frame.'

Ginny's fingers moved down his arm, reaching his knuckles. 'I guess I don't need to ask where these came from,' Ginny said sternly and Harry laughed.

'What about this one?' she asked, stopping at his right collarbone. The scar was short and thick.

'Knife hit me as I ran from a base. We were borrowing a few supplies, weapons and info, and apparently they didn't like that.'

'You were stealing,' Ginny corrected.

Harry shrugged with an impish grin. 'You say stealing, I say borrowing.'

Ginny shook her head. She moved down his chest. 'This one?' It was a long, thin one under his left nipple.

'Dangling off of a rather sharp roof,' Harry supplied.

'And this?' She moved to a similar shaped one on his side that wound around his waist to his back.

'Trying to slip through a gap between two buildings. Turns out it was much smaller than my eyes thought it was.'

'Of course,' she muttered as she moved on to the next one at his hip. 'This one?'

'Climbing over a fence.' Harry shuddered as her lips pressed to his hip.

Despite hearing all of Harry's mishaps, Ginny seemed to be enjoying herself, even if it was a little disgruntled by his complete lack of concern. After Harry told her about each one she would kiss it, like she did with the first scar and move on to the next one. She had found out about the rest on his upper torso and was working her way back up Harry's left arm.

Harry was watching her face, he couldn't help it. He realised he wanted to tell her about all of his mishaps and even the bad times. He just wanted her to know the real Harry, even if he was damaged goods. He snuggled in closer to her, nuzzling the skin under her ear. He wrapped his arms around her, ignoring her 'tut'.

'A-ha!' she said triumphantly, finding the rough, circular one on his left shoulder. 'What about this one?'

Harry paused, the smile falling from his face. He had tried not to relive that moment for years and now it was imprinted on his eyes. Harry struggled to swallow, his heart constricting painfully. He had repressed the shaking of his body but he felt cold. The room around him began to blur and the shadows seemed to creep closer to take him.

'I got that the night Sirius died,' he whispered. It sounded so much worse saying it aloud.

Harry blinked slowly, waiting for the moment when he was fall into the darkness. Yet as the seconds trickled over he could see the darkness but it wasn't coming up and swallowing him. Harry noticed he wasn't sweating and his hands were steady. He blinked again and the room was steadily coming back into focus. The first thing he noticed was Ginny. Her hand was at the crook of his elbow while the other stayed on his wound. Harry swore that in that moment she was the one holding him together.

'Oh, Harry, I'm sorry,' Ginny murmured sincerely, dropping her fingers.

'No,' Harry said. He took her fingers and placed them back on the bullet scar. 'You deserve to know.' He tried to swallow again and found he could. It gave him confidence. 'I, uh … Sirius told me to run while he distracted them. I didn't run and I should have. I watched as he got shot.' Harry closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. 'And then I ... I just stood there.'

'You were in shock,' Ginny said.

'I was stupid,' Harry amended. 'I was an open target. There was an explosion near me straight afterwards. I fell to the ground but rolled to my feet quickly but I just looked around, hoping stupidly, that he would jump back up. I was lucky the guy who saw me misfired and hit my shoulder instead of my chest. Needless to say, the wound sobered me up enough to escape but I was almost blinded by the pain. Apparently I was near passing out by the time I rode to the closest safe house. I don't really remember the rest.'

'It wasn't just Sirius' passing that you felt guilty about that night,' Ginny guessed. 'You froze from your shock and you're ashamed about it.' Harry looked away, towards the window, his jaw clenching. 'Harry,' she continued slowly. Her hands were soft as they fell upon his cheek, making him face her. 'You have nothing to be ashamed about. You just saw the closest thing you had to a father die in front of you. No one would have been able to think coherently after that.'

'But I –,' Harry went to protest.

'No,' Ginny interrupted forcefully. 'You've put too much pressure on yourself to be the leader and have forgotten to remember that you are still a human being with feelings.'

'I can't, I –,' Harry tried to argue again but it was muffled when Ginny kissed him.

'No, Harry,' Ginny repeated. She kissed him again when he went to protest and again and again. She continued to kiss him to shut him up until Harry gave up and started to kiss her back.

Ginny crawled into his lap as their kisses grew more heated, her hands snaking through his hair. Harry moaned throatily at the feel of her lips. The bare skin of her back was smooth under his fingertips and he rolled them so he was lying on top of her. He continued to kiss her while supporting most of his weight on his elbows. One of Ginny's legs wrapped around his and her hand gripped his arm. In another fluid moment, Ginny had rolled them over again, so now Harry was lying underneath her.

Harry broke their kiss. 'You were right,' he admitted.. 'I was ashamed of my behaviour that night and I'm scared that it will happen again and cost me another person I care about. I wouldn't be able to cope.'

'You won't, Harry. I know you and you won't buckle, not when your friend's need you.' She kissed him quickly and then the scar on his shoulder. She smiled at him before nestling down on his chest.

'What're you …'

'I need to sleep,' she clarified, wriggling into a more comfortable position.

'After saying something like that, you are just going to sleep?'

'Well, yeah,' Ginny said plainly.

'You are one unique woman, Ginny Weasley,' Harry said drily.

He sighed, listening to her deep breaths as she fell asleep. His breathing had become easier and the tension he had was slowly drizzling from his shoulders. She had saved him from the grief and pain he had carried with him since Sirius. He felt as if she had cracked the shell he had hidden his deepest desires in and the one that was slowly undulating through his body was hope. She was steadily fixing him piece by piece and she didn't even realise it.

Thinking back on their last day together, Harry had never felt so normal in a long time. They ate breakfast together, Ginny reading out passages from the paper about her performance and rumours of a new lover in her life. Harry snorted into his plate when her supposed lover had bought her a weekend away at a luxury resort and that was where she currently was.

'I think you need to up your game,' Ginny said conversationally. 'He did buy me a holiday after all.'

'I gave you a hideaway house,' Harry pointed out. 'And you can kiss me whenever you want.'

'That's always a positive,' Ginny smirked, leaning over to kiss him.

The paper also reported more violence and an increase of petty crimes. Ginny read them to Harry, her voice losing its lightness. Harry couldn't look at her but they were both thinking the same thing. This was a message to Harry from Riddle that he was preparing his final onslaught. Harry didn't want to think about the severely injured or the Order members that tried to help and had now disappeared. The Death Eaters were closing in on their area so Harry's days of being invisible were ending rapidly.

They lied together on the couch afterward, watching one of many movies Ginny had until she got bored and made Harry play a board game she had found. He knew she was trying to take his mind off of the paper and surprisingly it worked. Being a game of strategy, it brought out both of their competitive sides. Ginny, who was about to lose, decided throwing the pieces at Harry was far more entertaining. The pieces were soon scattered throughout the house when a war erupted between the two of them. Harry had never laughed for so long, even when getting pelted with mini plastic figurines.

Winded but happy, the pair of them ventured out onto the porch where they sat for the rest of the day. They talked about anything apart from the Death Eaters and Tom Riddle. Harry watched Ginny played with Arnold on the yard, remaining on the porch as a precaution. He was feeling more relaxed than he had been in a long time. He didn't know how easy it was to laugh and smile in the fringes of a building war. He had always frowned at others when he saw them holding hands at the bases hours before a mission or whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears when they should have been focusing on their mission but he had just done all of those things with Ginny. Maybe the threat of oncoming violence and endangerment made it easier to appreciate the remaining time together; it certainly made each moment that much precious.

It was late in the afternoon when Ginny collapsed down in the middle of the lawn, her chest heaving. Harry, on a whim, joined her on the grass, gazing up at the darkening sky. He reached out and took her hand.

'I wish everyday was like this,' Harry sighed.

'You say it as if this is a once off thing,' Ginny stated.

Harry turned his head, giving her a sad knowing smile. Ginny's expression was pained as she squeezed his hand. She faced the sky again but Harry continued to watch her. She was trying to keep her face impassive but she was struggling.

'You can't tell me what you are planning for the Death Eaters, can you?' Ginny said, not looking at Harry.

Harry smiled at her. 'I am going to keep you safe for as long as I can, that's my plan.'

'And what if I want you to stay safe?' Ginny said in a quiet voice.

Harry leant over and placed his lips to her forehead. 'I sort of crossed that safety line years ago.'

'Sometimes I wish you would be one of those guys who would lie just to keep me happy,' Ginny said with a sad smile.

Harry returned her smile before gazing back up at the sky. She moved in closer so their arms were touching and they stayed in silence even after the sun had fell under the horizon. As the first few stars became visible, Ginny began to point out constellations, telling Harry the myths that surrounded the subject, admitting she only remembered her favourite ones. Harry didn't care about that. He snuck glances at her, watching the way her eyes lit up as she talked about them and her hands became more animated as she explained things. Harry was smiling at her, wondering how he had managed to live this long without her.

Ginny faced him and noticed him staring at her. 'What?' she asked him.

Harry rolled so he was lying on his elbow, facing her. 'Have I ever told you that you are beautiful?'

Ginny blinked in surprise. 'What did you say?'

'Ginny, you are beautiful,' Harry said simply.

When Ginny smiled at him, his heart skipped a beat. Harry was about to lean over and kiss her when a phone began to ring. He looked at Ginny expectantly but when she pulled out her phone she shrugged and shook her head. Harry remembered he had his own and fumbled to retrieve it from his pocket.

'It's Ron,' Harry told her.

'And so the moment ends,' Ginny smiled, kissing his forehead as she got up.

Harry answered the phone, watching Ginny walk back into the house longingly. Ron had to say his name three times before he listened properly.

'Sorry? Yeah I'm here,' Harry replied.

'Now he speaks' Ron said drily. 'Did you think over Riddle's plans?'

'Yeah, yeah I did. He will use the love people have for me against them.'

'Love? Are you sure about that? How about …'

And then Harry was stuck on the phone. Ron decided he wanted to go through every aspect of Harry's theory of 'love'. Harry argued his points, trying to explain to Ron that his theory was correct, the only problem was that he didn't know who or how Riddle will execute it.

'But how do we know for sure that is what he is going to do?' Ron would continue to say. 'They are moving more methodically now. I mean, you can feel the anticipation in the air, for Christ's sake! For us it's like waiting for a bomb to go off, except we don't know when and where it's going to happen. What if he decided to do …' Ron would then suggest another option, each one becoming more far-fetched.

Harry was wandering up and down the porch, occasionally watching Ginny through the opened double doors. She was fixing them dinner and there were times when their eyes met. She would give him a small smile and return to their food. Harry was staring at her ignoring Ron's suggestions that Ron had to yell into the phone to get Harry's attention.

'Where are you tonight?' Ron asked angrily. 'It's like you don't even care anymore.'

'Of course I care,' Harry said patiently. 'But you asked me for my help and you seem to be disregarding it without considering it.'

'I'm not disregarding it. I'm just thinking there has to be a better option,' Ron argued.

Harry sighed. 'Can you get Hermione, please? We need another opinion.'

'She's right here, hang on.' There was a lot of rustling before Ron spoke again. 'Okay, you're on speaker.'

'Harry?' Hermione's voice came through. 'How are you? How's Ginny?'

'We don't have time for that Hermione,' Ron interrupted. 'You heard our points, which one do you think is right?'

'Ron, Harry's right. We needed his help and frankly, it's a pretty solid baseline to start with.'

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He could always count on Hermione to be level headed in times when Harry and Ron would disagree. He wandered inside to grab a bite from the dinner Ginny prepared as Ron tried to make Hermione see his point of view. Harry smiled glumly at Ginny and went back outside. Hearing the two of them bicker was like stepping back into the days before that raid. They would be at a table right now, discussing this with plates of uneaten food in front of them. Instead of them being together though, Harry was separated and who knew by how many miles. He was reminded again of how much he missed them.

Harry didn't know how late it was until they all finally agreed. Riddle would use someone to find Harry's location, but because he would want to remain blind to the public eye, he would have to do it without capturing or torturing them. This was a small comfort to the three of them, although as Ron pointed out, meant it would be harder to track who he was going to target. They piled names of people who could be looked at, with Ron and Hermione at the top, but each one was either already in hiding with the Order or hadn't spoken to Harry in months. Ron did mention Ginny's involvement but Harry assured him that if she continued to do the same things as she was doing, then she shouldn't be suspected.

'But she is a Weasley,' Ron urged. 'The Death Eaters know of our family's association to you.'

'And if she suddenly disappears from the public then it would look even more suspicious,' Harry repeated calmly. 'They won't hurt her, I can almost guarantee it.'

Ron, grunted in a burst of frustration and left to calm down so it was only Hermione left to talk.

'He'll be right,' Hermione assured Harry, although Harry suspected it was more for her than for him. 'He's just been taking on a lot more with you gone, not that that's you fault,' Hermione added quickly.

'I know, Hermione. It's just as hard for me being here without you two,' Harry said sadly.

'How's Ginny?'

'She's, uh…' Harry pictured her earlier that evening, her hair splayed out on the grass and gazing at him, her eyes glinting in the light. He swallowed and his voice hitched slightly. 'Good, I think.'

'There isn't anything going on, is there?' Hermione asked suspiciously.

'No,' Harry said a bit too quickly. 'No, everything's fine. Normal, under the circumstances.'

'Really? Oh, I was hoping … Never mind.'

'Hoping for what?' Harry asked.

'Nothing. I just thought that seeing as you and she were living together that maybe you could help each other out. I mean, I'm sure she was getting a bit miserable not being able to play and you were getting worked up about the Order business …' she trailed off. Harry had to admire her; she was smarter and more observant than he ever gave her credit for.

'You truly are the brightest person I ever met, Hermione,' he told her honestly.

'Does that mean …' Harry could hear the excitement in her voice.

'I should probably go,' Harry said mysteriously, grinning.

'Oh Harry, that's wonderful! Look after each other. I have to go and find Ron and make sure he's alright.'

'You aren't going to tell him are you?' Harry asked, worried.

'No, no. That's for you and Ginny, not me but, oh Harry. Be safe.'

'Yeah, you too.'

Harry hung up the phone, unsure of whether telling Hermione was the right thing to do. In the end, as he was locking up the sliding doors, he decided that if it was what made him happy, why should it matter? Ginny had turned off all of the lights except one over the stove top. Harry frowned and then glanced at the clock. It was after eleven! She had left out his plate with the remaining dinner on the bench.

Harry grew pained, staring at his cold meal. He didn't get to spend Ginny's last evening with her before she returned to soccer. He quickly ate the pasta, rinsing the plate and hastened down to Ginny's room. He was about to apologise when he saw she was fast asleep, a book on her chest. Harry smiled at her sleeping form, his heart drumming soundly. He gently placed the book onto her bedside table, pulling up the sheet to cover her. He thought about joining her but then he looked at her again.

Her hair was splayed out on the pillow behind her, her face a mask of serenity. He watched as she mumbled something, frowning at whatever she was seeing. He smiled at her, even though she couldn't see him. He marvelled at her and wondered why out of all the people she could have chosen from, she chose him. He watched her for a little longer, intrigued by her expressions caused from her dreams. After feeling strangely stalker-ish, he turned off the lamp and headed back to the spare room.

After taking a shower, Harry collapsed onto his bed, sighing deeply into the pillow. He placed his glasses on the bedside table and gazed up at the ceiling, going over his conversation with Ron and Hermione, waiting for sleep to come. Harry was roused from sleep sometime later when he heard Ginny shuffle in, pull down the covers and slide in next to him. He wrapped his arms around her as she snuggled into his chest.

'Why didn't you join me?' Ginny asked groggily, kissing his bare chest.

'I didn't want to wake you,' Harry croaked. 'You have an early start tomorrow.'

'I want to spend every second of every minute with you if I can,' Ginny said firmly.

Harry kissed her forehead. 'And once I end this, I will spend the rest of my life with you.'

'Is that a promise, Potter?' Ginny asked wryly.

'You better believe it,' Harry smiled, leaning down to claim her lips. 'I'm sorry I got caught up tonight,' Harry said once his lips were free.

'You don't need to apologise, fool,' Ginny said. 'I take it everything's in order?'

'I think so. Ron's stressed. Usually I take this part but he's had to shoulder it.' Harry sighed, hugging Ginny tighter. 'I should feel guilty about it but strangely I just am enjoying being with you.'

'Who wouldn't?' Ginny joked and Harry chuckled.

She kissed him again, lingering longer than Harry thought should be allowed if only to be classified as a goodnight peck. She rested back down on his chest and Harry watched her back rise and fall with her breaths. He heard Ginny sigh and roll over, pulling his arm with her. Harry smiled sleepily and rolled so he was lying on his side, his body fitting against hers. If he focused, he could hear the slow beat of her heart. Eventually the rhythmicity of her heart beats gently coaxed him into sleep.

It seemed like he had only just closed his eyes when he felt Ginny stir beside him. He groaned when her body slipped away, his arms still stretched out as if to grab her. He rolled onto his back, his eyes remaining closed and he tried to convince himself he was simply dreaming. He felt himself slip into a semi-conscious state, until Ginny kissed him on the forehead.

'No,' Harry groaned, reaching out and blindly grabbing her waist. 'Five more minutes.'

'It's already been ten more than I should have,' Ginny said, kissing him. 'If I stay anymore they'll come marching in.'

'No, they won't. Just a little longer,' Harry pleaded. He opened his eyes but she was a blur. He squinted, hoping to see her better.

She kissed him again. 'Promise me, you won't do anything reckless?'

'But …' She kissed him once more. 'I promise, but –.' She continued to give him little kisses as he tried to keep talking. 'Stay … please … miss … you …'

'I'll miss you too,' she said softly. She gave him one final long kiss before striding from the room.

'Ginny,' Harry murmured tiredly and then calling it louder. 'Ginny!'

Her reply was muffled and Harry rolled over onto his back with a groan. He closed his eyes, his brain a little jumbled from her kisses.

'She'll come back,' he muttered to himself.

Harry's eyes snapped open when he heard the front door close. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He left the bed, tripping slightly when the sheets got caught around his foot. He stopped in the hallway, listening for any signs of life. Harry felt a sinking in his stomach and he trudged towards the kitchen, already missing her bubbly energy. Arnold trotted over and sat at his feet as Harry leant his elbows against the bench, his head in his hands.

As he was contemplating spending the rest of the day in bed, the front door opened slowly. Harry's head snapped up, his eyes fixed on an approaching Ginny. She looked a little timid, her bottom lip between her teeth. She was wearing her club's formal shirt and jeans, a scarf hanging around her neck and her hair loose down her back. Harry elbows fell from the bench when he straightened.

'One more minute couldn't hurt,' she said to him.

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He closed the gap between them in a few strides. She met his lips with hers, her arms wrapping around his bare back. She pushed him against the table, her hands skimming along the top of his boxers. His hands were at her waist, gripping her shirt tightly. What could have been several seconds or several minutes later, they broke apart, both breathing heavily. As Harry caught his breath he held her close, his forehead pressed to hers. From here, Harry's nostrils were overpowered by her perfume, his mind going fuzzy. He tried to flatten some of her hair that he had messed up and they shared a small laugh when she went to do the same to his. Silence befell them soon afterwards, each knowing what had to happen next but not wanting to voice it aloud. Finally, it was Ginny that spoke.

'I know you are going to, change into the Order fighter you once were, when I leave,' Ginny breathed. Harry cringed inwardly. 'But I want you to remember the Harry that's here now. Remember, please, that there are still some happy times to be had before you have to fight.'

'Just hurry back,' was all Harry said.

Ginny walked from Harry's grasp, her hand lingering in his until she couldn't reach anymore and it fell from his. Harry kept eye contact with her until the door swung shut between them. Harry sighed, his eyes lingering on the door. The Death Eaters were closing in on them and Harry knew his time at Ginny's house was coming to an end. He had to prepare himself for what waited out there. Arnold was crying and scratching at the door, wanting Ginny to return.

'I want her here too,' Harry told Arnold. 'But now I have to become the Order leader the Death Eaters fear.'

Harry trained vigorously after Ginny's departure. He only stopped his training to eat and sleep for a few hours. He did every training regime he had been taught over the years which included numerous sit-ups, push-ups, crunches, pull-ups and every other muscle strengthening technique known to man. When Harry wasn't becoming stronger, he was getting fitter by running on the treadmill. It took a day or so to get to his original fitness level.

In between all of that, Harry was practising his fighting skills. It was hard due to the fact he had no partner or punching bag to use but he made do with rolled up mat again. At nights, Harry tested his balance and agility by climbing the walls of Ginny's house and racing along the roof before jumping down or into the nearby trees. Harry thought he was quite creative thinking of this, although anyone else would just think he was crazy.

One night he decided to catch his breath on the roof. He gazed up at the stars, recognising the constellations Ginny had shown him what felt like months ago. The moon was full and bathed everything in a soft glow. Harry was only in a singlet and the breeze felt cool against his sweaty skin. It was the first time he had stopped enough to let his mind wander. He wondered how Ginny was and if she was thinking of him. He wanted to call her, desperately, if only to hear her voice for a few seconds. He thought of her smile, her laugh, the feel of her hands against his chest, the aroma of her perfume that lingered on her skin. Most of all he thought about her lips. The soft curve they had, the way they pouted and of course how they kissed. He longed to have one of those kisses again.

The hours passed as he sat on the roof, the air getting stifled and cooler. Harry's breath steamed out in front of him as he leapt lightly from the window sill, landing with precision. Harry paused in his crouched position, his senses prickling. He squinted into the bushland, his ears alert for any sound. He couldn't see anything but his senses were still telling him that he was being watched. He crept back into the house, using the porch shadows to hide his body.

He shivered inside the house, rubbing his arms for warmth. Arnold wagged his tail upon seeing Harry and he bent down to scratch his ears. Harry continued to have that uneasy feeling of being watched as he cooked dinner and was unconsciously avoiding standing by the window. He ate dinner without tasting it, his eyes darting from window to window. Harry willed himself to calm down; he was simply being paranoid and yet every time he convinced himself of that, the hair on his neck rose. He took a shower, hoping it would calm his nerves. He was drying his hair when he heard his phone ring from the kitchen.

Harry walked towards it with trepidation and when he saw the unknown number flashing, he had to take a deep breath, hoping his gut was wrong.

'Hello?'

'Harry, it's Hermione,' Hermione said hurriedly.

'Hermione, what's –,'

'Harry, there's no time' she interrupted. 'Have you been watching the news lately?'

'Ah, no. I've been busy training since Ginny left.'

'Harry, that was almost four days ago!'

'Really? I didn't realise …'

You remember what you told Ron and I a few days ago?'

'About Riddle? Of course, but –.'

'Harry, it's Ginny! Riddle is going to use her.'

'What? How?'

And then it hit Harry. The Death Eater at the game wasn't there by accident. Why didn't he realise that before? He had sent Ginny into danger. Harry hung up and threw the phone of the bench. He had to get to her, disguised or not. Harry grabbed his coat from the back of the chair, almost knocking it over in his haste. He ran past Arnold, who was barking at Harry's panic state. He slid open the back doors, leapt down the steps and …

'Hello Potter.'