"No. Absolutely not. Are you fucking kidding me?" Ginny crossed her arms and glared across the table at Harry. "I assume this wasn't your ridiculous idea. It's completely idiotic."
Harry's lips quirked. "It wasn't my idea, no." He glanced down the table and belatedly Ginny realized she'd sort of just called either the head of the Auror department or the Minister of Magic idiots. "But I think it has . . . some merit."
Despite being able to read Harry like a book, Ginny wasn't going to throw him under the bus in front of his boss. Yet. "And what if . . . I refuse?" she asked him. She'd nearly said we, and Harry looked at her in warning. His mouth shut tight and it was Gawain Robards who leaned forward next.
"Now Miss Weasley, be reasonable. I was under the impression that you and Harry are friends."
Ginny was pretty sure Harry groaned under his breath, and she knew why; there'd been a time when she would have hexed someone for telling her to be reasonable. But she wasn't fourteen anymore and despite her bravado, she knew why they were all here. Pushing aside the conversation she'd have to have with him later, she turned back to Harry. "There's got to be a better solution, right? One that doesn't depend on our admittedly terrible acting skills?"
"I may have mentioned that," he admitted. But we haven't been able to come up with a better way to keep an Auror with you during those times when you're alone." He raised his eyebrows. "Although we did discuss having Ron do it."
"Absolutely not," said Ginny promptly. "You're bad enough."
"Ouch," said Harry in mock offense. "Is that how you talk to your new boyfriend?"
Ginny couldn't help rolling her eyes. "Exactly. No one's going to buy it."
"Our other option was for Harry to act as your bodyguard outright," said Robards mildly. "But he seemed to think . . ."
"That I absolutely don't need people thinking I'm being childminded," Ginny finished. "At least he got that right." She sighed, glad that at least she didn't have to explain herself to Harry. But the others in the room were a different story; even Kingsley didn't know her well as an adult, as opposed to the fourteen-year-old she'd been that year they'd spent so much time at Grimmauld Place with the Order. And with a guilty start, Ginny realized her new boss wouldn't have reason to know either.
Gwenog Jones had been quiet the entire meeting and Ginny couldn't read her well enough yet to understand what that meant. Now she turned in her seat.
"I'm so sorry about this; it won't affect the way I play. I can take care of myself, really. You know I fought in the War when I was just sixteen; this . . . whatever it is won't get in the way with the team; I promise." When Gwenog didn't immediately respond, Ginny set her gaze on Harry.
"Tell her I can take care of myself, Harry." Ginny hoped that only he could hear the pleading in her voice. It wasn't like her, but playing professional Quidditch was all she'd ever wanted to do and she couldn't bear the thought of losing it because of something beyond her control.
"You taking care of yourself isn't anything I worry about, Ginny." Gwenog sounded almost amused by the thought. "Given what I knew about you even before you joined the team, I expect you'll be able to teach the rest of us a thing or two about personal protection." Her tone grew more serious. "But we don't normally get the Minister of Magic and the head of the Auror Department at the Harpies' security meetings. I have a responsibility for the safety of the entire team, players and staff. If they say this is the best plan, then I think we should trust them."
The last thing Ginny wanted to do was disagree with Gwenog, whom she already looked up to. The witch was tough but fair, thoughtful but funny, and a spectacular leader, playmaker and Quidditch strategist. But she didn't know Ginny that well yet, or Harry for that matter, and had no idea what she was proposing they do.
Ginny sighed. "I know. But do you really think people are going to buy it? Me and Harry . . . dating?" She gave him a challenging look. "I mean, I know Witch Weekly seems to think you're one of Wizarding Britain's most eligible bachelors, but I . . ."
"Don't," Harry finished for her. He grinned. "And I feel the same way about you, Miss Newest Harpy Hottie. According to Quidditch Today at least."
Now Gwenog groaned. "Couldn't they just focus on how well you play?"
"I suspect that doesn't sell as many magazines," said Kingsley calmly. He picked up a piece of parchment with what looked like a calendar on it, and in that one movement, Ginny knew that she hadn't been invited here to see what she thought of the idea, but to be presented with something already decided. Hell, even Gwenog didn't look surprised. Vowing again to have a long talk with Harry later, she turned back to pay attention to Kingsley. "For now, the Harpies' regular security detail should be more than sufficient for most of the places Ginny will be - games, practices, press conferences and the like. We'll assign a couple of Aurors too, but not much beyond standard - we don't want to call attention to the fact that we think there's anything wrong. It's the public appearances when she might otherwise be alone that are our focus at this time. This is Miss Weasley's schedule, which Harry will keep with him because it's charmed to act as a Portkey in case he ever needs to be by her side quickly. For any reason." The man's tone was mild but Ginny could have sworn he was trying not to laugh.
"You make it sound like I'll be calling Harry for a magical booty call," she said.
Harry snorted. "Don't the twins have a product that does the same thing?"
"Probably," agreed Ginny. She caught Harry's eye and no matter how involved he'd been in helping come up with the plan, she knew at that moment they were both in agreement about how weird this all was. "Explain to me why can't we just be seen together as friends?" she asked.
"Right now signs are pointing to it being a crazed fan, so having you "off the market" so to speak is safer," explained Robards. "It also gives Harry a reason to be with you as much as needed. Friends don't spend as much time together as couples in love do."
Harry and Ginny both winced and once again, Ginny wanted to point out that there was no way anyone was going to believe this charade. What were they supposed to do, walk into the next Department of Magical Games and Sports banquet holding hands and feed each other pieces of shrimp like Bill did for Fleur? To push that shuddering thought out of her mind, she focused on a more practical question, one she knew was much more important.
"And if it's not a fan?"
She didn't miss how Harry glanced quickly at Robards or the way the other man gave a tiny shake of his head, and she felt a thrum of satisfaction. There was more they weren't telling her yet, but she wasn't stupid. She also knew she'd be able to convince Harry to share everything later on. Friend or boyfriend, they saw each other regularly enough even when both were busy with work. Indeed, they were both meant to be at the Burrow for dinner Sunday night.
And although she wasn't ready to admit it out loud, Ginny was a little relieved that Harry was so involved in the plans to manage the nebulous "threat" that no one seemed able to understand, even though she'd received her first odd piece of mail nearly a month ago. Weird fans were to be expected but this wasn't some lonely wizard asking for a pair of her knickers, or even a letter doused in a love potion (the Harpies got those weekly). The first parchment had arrived with a delivery of takeaway Ginny and her flatmates had ordered, which meant the sender knew her habits and where she lived. A second had arrived a week later, shooting down the Burrow's Floo when the entire Weasley family was there for dinner. The third had been sitting on a table at the Leaky when a group of former DA members was together for a casual night out. Other than Ginny's name on the front, each letter was blank, and had disintegrated moments after being opened.
Kingsley grimaced. "We're exploring other options too," he admitted.
Ginny appreciated his honesty, but didn't bother asking what those options were; just the fact that he'd told her that much was unusual. It would be another thing to ask Harry later. Right now he was quiet though, and watching her carefully. There was a small wrinkle between his eyes like he got when he was worried about something he wasn't sure how to handle, and while she tried to figure out what it might be, Robards began talking to Gwenog about the more mundane matter of the other Aurors who would be assigned to ordinary security detail. Harry twirled his water cup in his hands.
"So, what's the first event going to be, if you know?" Ginny spoke to the room at large. "I mean, how long do Harry and I have to figure out how we're going to make this fake dating thing work?"
By the way Harry's shoulders relaxed, Ginny knew she'd said the right thing. He was an Auror, and as weird as it was going to be, pretending to date her, it was still his job, something Harry took very seriously. On the other hand, all of this just made Ginny's position on the Harpies more difficult, and it would be just like Harry to worry about that even more than himself. The least she could do would be to make it easier for him.
"It's next week." Robards sounded apologetic. "The first anniversary commemoration of the end of the War. As a participant, you'll be getting a commendation, Miss Weasley. And as for Harry . . ."
"He's getting his Order of Merlin, First Class," laughed Ginny. "Along with my brother and Hermione." It had been quite the topic of conversation among the Weasleys, all of whom knew how much Harry wished he could just skip the whole thing. In recognition of that fact, Fred and George had taken it upon themselves to make an enormous fuss about it all every time everyone was together - but only when it was just family. Hermione and Ron had originally been slated for Second Class awards and Harry had flatly refused to participate unless they'd been elevated too. Now he smirked.
"Ginny's getting Third Class," he informed the table. "Do we think it's okay for me to be seen dating someone so far below my station?"
Ginny appreciated how hard Harry was trying to make all this seem normal, not just for her, but as a signal to everyone else that he wasn't bothered by it either. She matched his grin.
"Things are going to be pretty lonely then, Potter, seeing as the only witch getting a First Class award is currently dating my brother." She pretended to think. "The professors are all getting Second Class, aren't they? Maybe McGonagall is free."
Everyone laughed then, and Harry looked even more relieved. Robards put his hands flat on the table.
"One last detail for now," he said. "Other than those of us in this room, no one else is to know about Harry and Ginny's arrangement." He looked at the two of them seriously. "Including Ginny's family and Hermione Granger. It will be much easier that way."
Harry snorted at almost the same moment as Ginny, and even Kingley made a sound kind of like a choking cough. Robards raised his eyebrows. "Am I missing something?"
"I think what Harry and Ginny want to communicate is that while they agree it makes the most sense to have as few people aware of their . . . situation as possible, absolutely nothing about keeping it a secret from Ginny's family is going to be easy."
"Why?" Now Gwenog looked interested. "I've met your parents, Ginny. They're lovely people. And your brother Bill did some work on the wards at our stadium and was completely reasonable and professional, even when Tamara Fox accidentally forgot her towel when she showered and had to walk through the locker room naked at the exact moment Bill was in there. He didn't even glance at her, and Tammy's hard to miss even when she's clothed."
Ginny privately agreed. The Harpies Keeper was fond of saying that she had a big personality and chest to match, and both were accurate statements. She even had her own following of groupies - Foxxies they called themselves - separate from the ordinary Harpies' fans.
"Bill's wife is part Veela; I doubt he even registered that Tammy's a witch," she said with a laugh. "But it's not that. My family is likely to be . . . very interested in the fact that Harry and I are apparently dating." She shook her head. "They're either not likely to believe it at all or else be . . ." she gave Harry a beseeching look. "Am I right?"
He nodded. "There's a good chance Molly - Mrs. Weasley - is going to be rather enthusiastic about the prospect of Ginny and I together," he said carefully. Ginny felt her stomach flip.
"Not just my mum; the twins are likely to be absolutely impossible." She put her head down on the table. Despite knowing that it had already been decided she wondered if it was too late to back out of the scheme. Even if her family somehow bought the ruse, they weren't likely to give her and Harry any peace about it. By the look on Harry's face, he'd come to the same conclusion. Fortunately, he was more professional than she was.
"It'll be more realistic that way," he said bracingly. He rolled up the parchment with Ginny's schedule and stood up.
Robards and Kingsley rose a moment later. Robards reached over and shook Gwenog's hand. "Please be in touch if you have any questions or concerns," he said. "And thank you for the tickets. My niece is an enormous fan of yours."
Gwenog smiled. "If you have Ginny let me know ahead of time, I'll get her into the locker room before a game," she said. Robards nodded.
"I'll have Harry give her a few dates," he said.
They were already talking as if she and Harry were a couple, she noticed, and tried not to grimace. If this was really going to happen, she was going to have to work on her game face, and quickly.
Kingsley touched her shoulder as he left but didn't say anything else. He probably had a lot of important things that had piled up while he took time off for this meeting. She frowned. Even if there was something Dark and not just an ordinary fan behind the letters, that was something the Aurors could handle just fine. There had to be a reason the Minister of Magic had taken time out of his busy schedule to tell Ginny that she was expected to fake a relationship with Harry for her own protection.
"I'll see you at Barnfield in the morning," Gwenog said, naming the Harpies training centre. Her grin grew a little wicked. "Be prepared to run a lot of steps."
Ginny matched her expression. "I'm ready." She vowed to go for a run that very afternoon.
"I'll walk you out," said Robards to Gwenog. "There are a few Aurors who'd like autographs if you don't mind."
And then Harry and Ginny were alone in the conference room, which normally wouldn't have made her think twice. Now she noticed the people walking back and forth past the doorway and wondered if they were questioning why she and Harry were alone together. Her stomach growled suddenly and Harry grinned. "Miss lunch?"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "I wasn't the one to schedule the meeting for noon." Now would be the time for her to ask if he wanted to grab something to eat; there was no reason why she shouldn't. They had lunch together almost as regularly as she did with one of her brothers or Hermioine, or Luna. Harry noticed her discomfort.
"Do you want to yell at me?"
It broke some of the tension she was feeling. She shrugged. "Either yell or ask you a million questions," she admitted. "But I couldn't even ask if you wanted to get a bite to eat without feeling like we're going to end up on the cover of Witch Weekly."
"That won't happen until after the anniversary commemoration," he said with such confidence that Ginny gaped at him.
"I was joking, I think," she said. Harry grimaced.
"I wasn't. It's going to be all over the gossip columns, you know." There wasn't even the barest hint of ego in his voice, not that Ginny would have expected any. Without really realizing it, she'd followed him out of the office and through the department's maze of desks and cubicles towards the lifts.
"I know," she said, once they were in the corridor. "I guess I hadn't really thought about it though."
"What, in the hour since you first heard the plan?" Harry's lips quirked. "You're taking this remarkably well. I argued with Gawain and Kingsley for two days before I agreed."
The lift arrived at that moment and they stopped talking while it slowly made its way to the Atrium. Was it her imagination or were people already staring at them? She shook her head; no one was giving them any mind. But Harry's comment stuck with her, and as soon as they were walking towards the bank of fireplaces, she asked the question that had been on her mind almost since she'd learned of the plan.
"Do you think it's a bad idea?" There was no question that Harry had some hesitations, but Ginny wasn't sure how much he'd really objected to his superiors. He would never have let himself be forced into something he didn't want to do, she was sure of that.
Harry opened his mouth and then closed it again. "We have a lot to talk about."
"No shit," said Ginny. "Isn't that what we're doing?"
"Well, yes," Harry agreed. He looked around the crowded Atrium. "But I don't think . . ."
"Harry! Perfect, I was hoping I'd run into you. Do you have a moment?" Arthur Weasley gave his daughter a one-armed hug. "What pulled you away from the pitch, sweetheart? Are the two of you off to something important?" Her father smiled mildly, and although Ginny was always happy to see him, his timing was definitely not ideal. There was not a hint of suggestion in his question though, and she breathed out a little sigh.
"Umm, hi Dad. No, umm, Harry and I were just, I mean, we had a . . . we ran into each other. On accident. And we thought maybe we'd grab a late lunch. She carefully avoided answering his question about why she was at the Ministry in the first place.
Fortunately, her father was not a suspicious man when it came to his children, Fred and George sometimes excepted, of course. Where Molly might have asked any number of questions, Arthur accepted her stammering explanation without comment and turned back to Harry.
"If it's not a good time, that's okay, but I'd hoped to get your thoughts on an upcoming raid my department has planned." He lowered his voice. "A group selling coursework by owl-post that's supposed to teach spells to fight curses like Fiendfyre and Deathwater." He shook his head. "It's not much more than an enhanced Auguamenti, which obviously doesn't work, as you both know."
Ginny shuddered in remembrance. When they'd tried to return to the Room of Requirement the day after the battle, a wooden door had appeared and then immediately disintegrated into ash. It had taken weeks before anyone had been able to enter at all and the last she'd heard, it was only just now starting to give people what they required. Pushing aside visions of being chased by enormous, Basilisk-shaped flames, she gave a nonchalant shrug.
"It's nothing important, what Harry and I were doing. Just a little talk. You know, to catch up on what we've been . . . since I joined the Harpies we haven't . . . we're just having lunch." Next to her, Harry had stayed silent, obviously having decided that anything he'd add to her babbling would just raise suspicion. Now he nodded at her father.
"That's concerning. The Aurors definitely have a lot on their plates right now." Harry might have been talking about the weather, and Ginny silently marveled to herself that he could be so calm. Arthur frowned.
"Is this about the letters? Have they figured out who's sending them? If that's what you two need to talk about I don't want to interrupt; are you directly assigned to the case?" That question was directed at Harry, of course. "I'll admit that Molly and I would feel some relief knowing that you were part of the Auror detail around Ginny." He held up his hand to stop Ginny's protest. "Not that you need watching, and yes, I know you can take care of yourself, but if there are going to be a number of Aurors buzzing around the Harpies, wouldn't you rather it be someone you know?" He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I suppose Ron would be okay too."
"No!" The word burst out of Ginny's mouth before she could stop herself. Out of her father's sight Harry startled, then smirked.
"I just mean, if Ron's there, it'll be like he's my minder, you know?" Ginny spoke quickly and then shot Harry a look of warning. It felt like they were getting into dangerous territory, discussing who would be watching Ginny before the two of them had a chance to talk. Hell, hadn't her father mentioned an 'Auror detail'? He didn't even know Ginny was going to have a single Auror assigned to her for public events, let alone that it was going to be Harry. And he still looked like he was trying not to laugh, the prat. Still, she let him answer her father, uncertain what the right thing to say was. Should she be planting seeds for later when they suddenly revealed they were dating? She wouldn't even know where to start.
Harry hesitated a moment. "Ginny and I weren't going to talk about anything important, " he said finally. "Why don't you and I go up to your office and talk? I'm sure Gawain will want to know what you've found." He gave Ginny half a glance and a little shrug and she understood that he didn't know the right thing to say either.
"I'll see you at the Burrow then," she said carefully. "You're coming for dinner Sunday, right?"
"Right," he said, just as slowly. She could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to figure out when they'd have a chance to talk before then. "Umm, have a good practice tomorrow. And, Saturday?"
"Only until 4 on Saturday," said Ginny, assuming Harry would get the hint. She gave her father another hug and then continued on her way to the Floo and lunch, while her father and Harry turned back to the lifts.
When she got out of the shower that night at her flat, there was an owl waiting patiently for her on the ledge outside her window. She was only a little startled; Bill had enhanced all the wards himself after the first anonymous letter had arrived and there was no way an unauthorized message could be anywhere near her home. And anyway, she recognized Harry's owl Orion.
She suspected Harry had been in a hurry when he'd written the note; his familiar scrawl rose and dipped across the page more than usual and Ginny could hear his voice in her head as she read.
Ginny - we Definitely have to talk before Sunday, I had no idea what to say to your dad! So, Saturday night works? Come here - Ron's at Hermione's then. It's "date night" - are we going to have to have those? Oi - just let me know if you can come. - Harry
Oh, and I have something to show you.
Despite everything, Ginny had to smile. At least he'd been nervous too, even though he hadn't shown it. Although that meant he was probably going to be better at faking this relationship too. She sighed to herself Maybe once they'd talked everything through she'd be able to pretend as well as he did. Pretend that she was dating Harry Potter. Right.
It was a position any number of witches would have given up a lot of Galleons to be in. Mostly those who didn't know Harry at all, or those who only thought they did. Ginny knew how embarrassed he was about the attention he got from the public and the press, and she couldn't understand how anyone could be so fanwitch crazy about him without even knowing him - especially since plenty of people had been so quick to believe he was a nutter back when Fudge was Minister. And now that she was suddenly the object of similar unwanted attention, she understood even more.
Sure, she supposed he was objectively good looking - he and Ron had both gotten tall but while Ron was still gangly Harry had filled out across the shoulders - a fact she knew because Fred and George had blown up the cover of a Witch Weekly that proclaimed that very fact. It didn't matter though, to Ginny he was still just Harry - the slightly awkward and intensely private boy she'd first met when she was eleven - and a good friend. He'd never even made her feel bad about nearly getting them killed in the Chamber; if anything, it had cemented their friendship.
Ginny sent Orion back with a note telling Harry she'd be at Grimmauld Place by 7 Saturday night and then flopped back on her bed with a groan. There were probably a million things they were overlooking with the plan, any one of which could cause the whole thing to disintegrate in an instant.
Would that matter so much? Sure, it would probably be embarrassing to be caught fake dating one of her close friends, but it's not like the Aurors would stop watching out for her or trying to figure out who was behind those letters.
She shivered, and not because it was unseasonably cold and wet for late April. It wasn't that she was scared; anyone who'd faced Voldemort and the other horrors of the war couldn't be frightened of what might just be a poor joke. But still, she had to admit it was a little disconcerting, thinking that some stranger had taken the time to single her out like that. The Aurors had questioned her in depth about anyone she might have angered or offended but she'd come up empty; all of Voldemort's followers excepted, of course. But by that metric, her entire family should be receiving letters. They'd even gone so far as to question Dean and Michael Corner, not that Ginny thought for a second either of them were involved. Dean was perfectly nice, just not right for her, and Micheal was a git but not dangerous.
She started to roll up Harry's note so it would fit in the bin when his postscript caught her eye. What did he have to show her, she wondered? Did he even mean it was something related to their situation? With Harry, it might have been a new Quidditch move or a letter from Hagrid or even some restaurant he wanted to try. Well, she'd find out soon enough. Yawning, she pulled on an oversized t-shirt and snuggled into bed, trying to put thoughts of fake dating and pretend boyfriends out of her head, at least for the night.