A/N: And . . . here I go again. This story grew out of the desire to try to write something that included both Harry/Ginny and James/Lily, and while I'm not brilliant enough to write anything like deadwoodpecker's Master of Death, I'm pleased that I came up with an idea to include both couples in some form. The mechanics of this plot have been tricky for me which is why I've already written a number of chapters and will be posting thoughtfully and only when I'm confident that I won't be messing up some plot point I want to make later. Enjoy!

From the outside, the letter was identical to the others Harry received from the Ministry every few months. Inside, he knew would be the same offer from the same Department of Magical Inheritance lawyer with the rather prescient name of Dodge. Not for the first time, Harry wondered if the wizard had been drawn to hold a job that caused people to try to avoid him.

That wasn't fair, of course. For all he knew, Harry was the only one of the faceless Dodge's correspondents who didn't enjoy receiving his mail. Indeed, most other wizards and witches were likely delighted to learn they were the beneficiaries of a magically-protected inheritance; Harry doubted that many of them had experience with anything more serious than the minor charm necessary to keep children out of the cookie jar. For those sorts of witches and wizards, the prospect of watching newfound riches freed from a "dangerous" protective curse or spell was exciting.

Most of those heirs were not being asked - yet again - if they'd like access to the house in which they'd been orphaned when both of their parents were killed by a Dark wizard. "House and contents," actually. That is what each letter described as what awaited Harry's retrieval, just as soon as he signed his name. It would form a magical contract giving him "exclusive access to the premises," making the entire thing sound like one of those fancy, red-rope-barred nightclubs that kept popping up in Diagon Alley.

(He'd been granted exclusive access to several of those too; the prospect of Harry Potter being seen having a drink would boost attendance exponentially. So far he'd binned those requests even more quickly than Dodge's letters.)

This time, though, he paused as a few words caught his eye.

Sentimental keepsakes . . . elimination of dangerous hexes . . . reunited with family heirlooms . . . suffocation of Dark remnants.

Harry wasn't sure if these phrases were new or if he'd just not paid attention before, being as un-eager as he'd always been to set foot in the Godric's Hollow house. But now the position had changed, or was going to change shortly, he hoped. He wondered if this Dodge fellow used similarly grandiose suggestions in all his letters or if he actually had knowledge unique to Harry and the threats - and possible gifts - festering at his childhood home.

The fireplace suddenly flared green and Ron's voice drifted through. "Harry, you ready? Hermione will kill me if I'm late."

"I'll meet you there, Ron. Tell Ginny I'm on my way." Harry carefully folded up the parchment and then said a spell to seal it so no one else could read what it said before locking it carefully in his desk. The thought still filled him with dread, but for the first time going to Godric's Hollow didn't seem like something he'd be able to avoid indefinitely.

The Burrow was warm and crowded and noisy when Harry arrived, only a few minutes after Ron. He ignored his friend and sought out his girlfriend first, slipping his arm through hers and letting her nearness take away some of his tension. She returned his kiss and gave him a curious look.

"What is it?"

Despite his swirling thoughts, Harry couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of calm that Ginny knew instinctively to ask. "I'll explain later," he murmured against her ear, and if he didn't tell her everything, well, he expected she'd understand, someday. She accepted his promise, as he knew he would.

"Mum, do you need any help in the kitchen? I volunteer Harry and Ron."

It was a common joke and Molly rolled her eyes good naturedly. "Only if you don't want to eat for another hour." She waved her wand and platters of food began floating out of the kitchen. "Anyway, it's all ready."

Ginny took Harry's hand as soon as they sat down and started a lively conversation about some of the items the most avid fans had sent the Harpies that week. It was a popular topic for dinner, so much so that Fred and George had created a game around guessing the most outrageous. Harry gratefully let the conversation wash over him, paying just enough attention to make appropriate comments from time to time. The photos of blokes in Harpies uniforms didn't even cause a raised eyebrow; Ginny alone received a half-dozen a week. Instead he found himself wondering if there might be photos in the Godric's Hollow house. Certainly Dodge would have mentioned that, would have recognized that something as personal as pictures of his family would be likely to lure Harry to finally look through his inheritance. Which likely meant there weren't any.

Stifling a strange stab of disappointment, Harry turned back in to laugh with the others about the pair of Snitches, attached to each other and painted blue, that the Harpies' keeper had gotten that week, along with a note begging for a date before the letter-writer 'experienced the real thing.' It was one of the reasons Harry and Ginny had decided not to try to keep their relationship entirely secret. The loss of privacy was a fair trade for some protection against overly enthusiastic fans who didn't want to cross Harry Potter by getting too familiar with his girlfriend, and Harry hadn't tried to dissuade the image. All the players had nicknames given to them by the rest of the team, and after Gwenog quietly asked if it was okay, Ginny was more than happy to be known as 'Lightning.' The moniker had given the press a field day and Harry a sort of quiet pride that the permanence of his and Ginny's relationship had been publicly memorialized; a team nickname was not something that one just changed later, after all.

". . .Godric's Hollow. They're talking to artists now."

Harry jerked at the name. "What?"

Ginny's hand rested comfortingly on his thigh. "The Ministry is planning a memorial there, to Professor Dumbledore. And I think Bathilda Bagshot's getting a mention too; isn't that right, Hermione?"

Harry caught Hermione's eye. She had nearly destroyed Bathilda's house almost two years ago, saving Harry from Nagini. Now she shrugged. "Most of her important books were taken to the libraries at Hogwarts and the Ministry after I . . .you know." She blushed delicately.

"We tore down the rest of the house after that," Bill broke in. "Old Bathilda had put all kinds of odd protective charms on the place over the years. It wasn't worth trying to untangle them, given the state of the structure." He gave a nod to Hermione. "She didn't have any heirs."

And Harry was back to Dodge and his letter. Was there some sort of deadline for him to decide to look over his parents' things? He couldn't remember that from any of the letters, but sitting here at dinner, far away from the situation, he felt a sudden, irrational panic. The Ministry wouldn't destroy the house, would they? Or empty it of its things and put them beyond Harry's control, thinking he wasn't interested?

He hadn't moved at all, but Ginny squeezed his leg anyway. It grounded him, and he was able to focus back on the dinner conversation. Of course the house was safe; it wasn't the same as Bathilda's at all. The house was his, and only he could decide what to do with it. Breathing easier now, he focused back on the dinner conversation. They were talking about Bill and Fleur's recent announcement, and that made Harry think about his own plans, and what it would feel like, soon, when he and Ginny told the Weasleys about their engagement.

Of course, he had to ask Ginny first, but that was just a detail. The asking was important, but the answer was a given, and for that reason, Harry hadn't quite figured out how to do the asking yet. Surprising Ginny would likely be difficult, but he wanted to try, if he could.

"Are you ready to leave?" Ginny's voice was low in his ear and Harry realized belatedly that his thoughts had drifted again. Everyone was getting up from the table and helping pack leftovers into baskets to be taken home. He nodded.

In the kitchen, he accepted his basket and watched Ginny take her own leftovers. It was time to say goodbye to her now; he had work and she had practice in the morning, and they were both trying to be respectful of that while Ginny got used to her new role. First team for the Harpies was brilliant, and Harry was almost as militant as Gwenog was about making sure Ginny got enough rest. And yet the question slipped out anyway.

"Will you come home with me? I promise I'll let you get enough sleep."

Ginny touched his cheek. "I will. And I don't worry about that nearly as much as you do, you know."

Ginny let Harry take her side-along even though he'd fixed the wards to allow her to Apparate directly into his flat almost as soon as he'd moved in. The building was in Muggle London, but not too far from the Leaky Cauldron, and was bright and cheerful. Ginny lived with two other Harpies players in a magical building that was a favorite of a number of professional Quidditch teams; its Floo Network was set up to transport players quickly to their home stadiums. Harry had been cleared to Apparate directly into the lobby just two days earlier but Ginny suspected he'd be overly cautious about not abusing his new access.

They arrived in the sitting room and the first thing Harry did was shut and seal the magical doorway he and Ron had set up between their apartments as soon as Ron had rented the one right next door. It was fun and convenient to have Ron (and usually Hermione) so close but even though Ginny didn't know what was on Harry's mind at the moment, she knew he needed for the two of them to be alone.

He took the baskets of food from the Burrow and carried them into his kitchen. "I'll keep them separate so that you can take yours back to your flat in the morning. That way you'll have food for dinner tomorrow night after your practice."

Ginny easily read between the lines. "Or I could come back here and we could finish the leftovers together."

Some of the tension left Harry's shoulders. "I don't want . . ."

"Eloise is going to be out with her boyfriend celebrating their six-month anniversary and Tess will be at St. Mungo's doing therapy on her injured shoulder," she interrupted, naming her two roommates. "So if I'm not here I'll be all alone."

Harry walked over and put his arms around her. "I guess you'd just better come here, then."

Normally one of them would have immediately made a joke about all the places they wanted to 'come', but Harry was still pensive. "Will you make me some tea?" she asked. "I want to take a quick shower."

"Of course." Harry kissed her on her cheek. "My Quidditch shirt is in the top drawer of my dresser," he said, even though Ginny knew where he kept her favorite sleeping garment. "Do you want some ginger biscuits too? I've got the kind dipped in chocolate."

"Yes please," said Ginny. "I won't be long."

Like with their usual innuendo, one of them in the shower was normally a signal for the other to join. This time Ginny washed quickly and was out of the bathroom, wrapped in one of Harry's fluffy towels, just in time to meet him in the hallway carrying a tray of tea things. She didn't miss the way his eyes strayed to the place the loosely draped cloth barely covered her breasts and then stayed there when she adjusted it. Good. She knew Harry wouldn't start anything himself tonight. He held up the tray.

"I thought we could have our tea in bed." Unspoken was the inference that drinking it there would make it easy for Ginny to go to sleep immediately after. She nodded.

"That sounds lovely." She followed Harry into his bedroom and then waited until he'd put the tea on his bedside table and turned back towards her before she dropped her towel and went to rummage through his dresser for a shirt. She heard his breath hitch and then he was behind her, his voice low in her ear.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" He pressed himself against her bum and then quickly pulled away.

"I am," Ginny agreed. She looked at him over her shoulder. "And I'm not sure I have any clean knickers here so I'm going to have to sleep without them."

Harry groaned. "As long as you actually sleep, I don't care if you're naked." He nuzzled Ginny's neck and she knew his resolve was wavering.

"Is that a suggestion?" Ginny turned fully around and watched as Harry's gaze took her in. Her nipples puckered in the chilly air and he snapped to attention.

"You're cold; let's continue this conversation under the covers." Harry roughly pulled his shirt over his head and then fumbled with his trousers. Wordlessly, Ginny stepped forward to help, pleased when Harry let his hands fall to his sides. He stood very still while she kissed along the edges of the locket-shaped scar on his chest but his breathing was ragged, and Ginny could feel the unreleased tension under his skin.

"I'll sleep better tonight if you make love to me first." Her tone boded no argument. Harry gave a jerky nod. He banished the tea and lowered the lights in one swift move of his wand and then quickly pointed it at his waist.

"Thank you," Ginny said. She slipped under the covers and then held them up so Harry could climb in after her. Even if she hadn't been shivering she knew he would have covered her body with his, and when he settled himself between her thighs he gave a small sigh of relief. Ginny lay very still while Harry moved his lips along her forehead and then down one cheek before fitting them around hers. He kissed slowly and thoughtfully, as if there was nothing else he wanted to do that night, even though Ginny could feel him throbbing. When he finally shifted his weight, she let her legs fall open and he slid inside with a quiet groan.

Sometimes their lovemaking was playful and chatty, and sometimes fiercely intense. Tonight, Ginny knew Harry's physical need was a welcome distraction. He moved deliberately, touching her in the places he knew would bring her to the brink and then going still while she moved under him until they got there together.

Harry was still inside of her, his heartbeat not yet even, when he spoke for the first time since they'd climbed into bed.

"I got another letter today. About going to Godric's Hollow."

Ginny suspected Harry wasn't talking about a casual visit to the village or even a more purposeful trip back to the cemetery. She trailed her hands up his back. "Who was it from?"

"A solicitor named Dodge." Harry gave a small chuckle. "I've always thought that a funny name."

Ginny searched her memory. "He's the one who oversees your parents' house?" Harry normally binned those letters; she wasn't even sure how often they arrived. He nodded.

"Something like that; he can give me access, let me review the contents." Harry played idly with a strand of Ginny's still wet hair.

She wasn't fooled. "Do you want to?" she asked carefully. Harry shrugged.

"I don't know; maybe. I've never wanted to before but . . . maybe." For a moment Harry looked like he wanted to say something else but he stayed quiet instead and continued to curl Ginny's hair around his finger. "I just can't decide how I feel," he said finally. "It's just . . ."Again, the words seemed to fail him.

"Do you have to decide now?"

Harry gave a frustrated huff. "I don't think so; the letter didn't say."

Ginny started tracing circles on his back again. "And if you ask, this Dodge bloke will think you're interested and start putting pressure on you."

"Exactly." Harry climbed carefully off of Ginny and performed a freshening spell between them. "I don't want to make a decision until . . ." - he gave a sheepish grin - "until I've made a decision."

Ginny pushed herself into a sitting position and leaned back against the pillows. "Sounds reasonable to me." She opened her arms and Harry scooted into them, their bare legs twining together under the blankets. "I suspect the answer will come when you're ready for it; just the fact that you're considering it now means something. But there's no need to rush. No one's going to do anything to the house without your knowledge and permission."

Harry relaxed. "That's what I told myself, but I needed to hear you say it." There was a beat of silence. "D'you want your tea now? I just sent it to the kitchen."

Ginny knew that wasn't what Harry really wanted to say. "Yes please. And don't forget the biscuits."

"Oh, I would never," said Harry. He unbanished the tray and handed Ginny her mug before carefully adding milk and sugar to his own.

"If I go," he began slowly. "To Godric's Hollow. If I decide to go see the house." He put his tea down. "I think I'd need to go alone, for the first time, at least." Harry twisted in Ginny's lap until he was looking at her. "Is that okay?"

The raw vulnerability in his voice was something Harry reserved for concerns about the people he loved. It had surprised Ginny to realize that Harry questioned if he was treating her properly; as far as she was concerned, her feelings for him had been as obvious as Dragon Pox since she was ten. The first time they talked about it after the war, she'd actually yelled at him. He'd apologized for breaking up with her and then leaving and even though they were in the middle of getting back together and practically mid-snog, she'd smacked him on the arm and called him a prat.

"Don't ever think you should have done something different by me, or by anyone," she'd said dangerously. "You died for us."

That was when Harry had revealed that the last thing he'd thought of before Voldemort's spell hit him was her, which turned out to be a very effective way of ending Ginny's rant.

But it had been her father who'd explained it better, that Harry hadn't grown up with the right sort of role models to help him understand what it meant to be part of a family or to love and be loved. It had been eye-opening for Ginny to learn that, and now instead of rolling her eyes or swatting him, she thought about his question for a moment before nodding.

"It's something you have to do yourself," she said, meaning it. Harry had learned about family by being around hers and it only made sense that after the loving chaos of the Burrow he'd want to start at Godric's Hollow alone, the last place he'd been with his parents.

"I'll take you there, I promise. Before anyone else."

"I know you will." Ginny ran her hand down Harry's chest. "And you don't need to figure out a timeline for when that will be." She let her hand drift lower. Staying naked had been a good idea.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment. "Thank you." He moved his hand down to meet hers and Ginny thought he was going to move it off of him and insist she get some sleep. But instead he joined her ministrations, helping her slowly stroke him until he was ready again. He lifted Ginny to straddle his lap, hissing with pleasure when she lowered herself onto him and then grasping her hips to move her back and forth.

"I love you," he gasped when Ginny tightened her legs around his waist and then crushed her against his chest as he climaxed. "Love you more," she responded promptly. They nestled into the pillows and Harry was playing with her hair again when he suddenly chuckled. "You're a terrible influence, you know. I asked you here with the promise that you'd get plenty of sleep."

"I think your subconscious had a different idea." Ginny yawned then and held up a finger warningly. "And don't say anything; it's not even midnight yet." Harry held up his hands in surrender and Ginny was glad to see him in a joking mood.

"You're Gwenog's problem soon," he agreed. They curled around each other to sleep and Ginny woke up the next morning feeling refreshed.

"I sleep better with you than alone," she mentioned over an early cup of coffee. It was barely light out and they'd decide to stay in bed for a quick breakfast before Ginny Floo'd back to her flat to change.

"I like it when you stay here," Harry admitted. "And I'm likely to take advantage of asking you unless you tell me when you really can't."

Truthfully, Ginny couldn't imagine many times when she'd be expected to stay in her flat instead of Harry's. Her roommates were lovely and easy to live with and both in relationships too. Ginny was as likely to run into Eloise's boyfriend or Tess's girlfriend as she was her actual roommates, assuming they were staying there at all. So leaving to sleep elsewhere was never a problem.

"I'll just have Gwenog send you a Howler," she said now, and as she'd hoped, Harry just grinned.

"I survived your parents knowing we have sex, I think I can manage your coach too."

"Gwenog thinks I play better after a thorough shagging," Ginny said casually. "I'll get you the schedule of our toughest games to make sure you're in top form."

"I would consider it my duty to help the team win, of course." Harry waved his wand in the air. "But I've already got your entire schedule, including the odds on each game, the opposing teams signature strategies, and strengths and weaknesses." The color-coded chart shimmered in front of them. Ginny laughed out loud.

"How did you get Hermione to care that much about Quiddich?" For it was obvious that no one else among their friends was so organized. Harry shrugged. "Ron helped; Hermione found it rather arousing to hear him talk about color coding things and Ron got turned on every time Hermione said 'Quidditch'."

"Sounds like a total 'win-win."

"Win-win-win, you mean," corrected Harry. "Because according to the chart, we get a to have a lot more sex."

"Like we wouldn't have anyway," laughed Ginny.

Harry began nuzzling her neck. "But this time it's coach sanctioned."

Ginny let Harry keep going until his hand traveled down between her legs. She sighed and then moved it away. "What's also coach-sanctioned is me being on time for practice, in my full kit, which does not, at last check, include my boyfriend's old school jersey."

"No matter how fantastic it looks on you." Harry immediately rolled away from her and got out of bed. "Do you want the loo first? How much time do you have?" He began rushing around, picking up the clothes she'd worn over the night before. "Shite, I really didn't mean to make you late."

"I'm fine, Harry." Ginny gathered up her things. "Give me five minutes in the loo and then I can Apparate right back to my flat to get the things I need for practice."

Harry stood back docilely until Ginny reappeared from the bathroom. She laughed when he gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and then solemnly handed her the rest of her coffee, now in a non-spill, Apparition-safe travel cup, and a small bag with the rest of the ginger biscuits.

"I'll double these," she said, holding up the bag. "They're Gwenog's favorite."

"Good idea," said Harry vaguely, handing her her traveling cloak. "I love you." Ginny could tell his mind was already back on Godric's Hollow and the question of whether he should go. She'd continue to enjoy distracting him when she could but she knew he wouldn't really rest until he made a decision. With a final quick smile, she whirled away to her flat.