Chapter 9: Visitor

Six hours later, Ginny examined her bread roll with more interest than it deserved while Julien cut his chicken slowly, his motions appearing deliberately casual. Ginny knew he was trying to act normal, but it was clear he was out of his element. He looked like he'd been cut and pasted into a page that wasn't his — his cuffed white button-down and black work slacks a stark contradiction against Ginny's coral-toned living room strewn with dirty laundry. She didn't think she'd find him here again after the night of the Harpies gala, and she couldn't say she was particularly happy about it.

After waking up from her episode to Valmai and Gwenog hovering around her, Ginny had learned that Julien had Apparated directly onto the pitch as planned, having been alerted by the Trace. He had flashed his Ministry badge at Gwenog and knelt down above Ginny and, according to Valmai, went into a "bloody trance-like" state with his wandtip directed at Ginny's forehead.

"Honestly, if not for the badge, I would've thought he was doing some Dark magic on you," Gwenog huffed. "He should have actually communicated and explained what he was doing. I had half a mind to kick his arse out of our pitch."

"So what the hell was he doing? Siphoning out your brain matter?" Valmai asked, frowning.

"No, he was helping me with my… my sleep episodes. He's been helping me for a while now, actually. He was trying to —" Ginny started, but before she could figure out what explanation to give, the door swung open and a stony Julien strode in. He made a beeline to Ginny and curtly asked — no, demanded — that Gwenog and Valmai give them privacy. Ginny gave them a small apologetic smile, and Valmai had given her the eyebrow raise that said we'll be right outside if you need us.

As it turned out, Julien had tried Legilimency on Ginny but had encountered a strong mental shield in place. He initially tried prodding it to see if it was some subconscious Occlumency that Ginny had applied, but quickly realized that it couldn't be.

"Whoever has the diary must be applying this shield. It's not you — I know what your mind feels like and this was completely different," Julien had explained, impatiently rapping his fist against the wall Ginny was sitting against. "This is not good."

This is not good. Breaking a mental shield that was not hers would probably break her mind, Julien stated plainly. So that path of exploration had been ruled out rather quickly.

As Julien kept rattling off potential causes of the foreign mental shield he had encountered, Ginny realized all of them were bad. Really bad. Most likely, The Dealer had finally figured out what she was doing at the Department of Mysteries and had erected a shield to prevent her from exploiting their connection.

Ginny's heart sank. Their plan to sabotage The Dealer covertly through Legilimency had been thwarted before it had even begun. Plus, The Dealer proved to have way more information than they'd thought.

At some point, Julien had started pacing the limited floorspace of the room, insisting that Ginny take extra precautions now that The Dealer seemed aware of her actions. He had urged her to accept an Auror detail, but she had refused.

It wasn't that she wasn't concerned for her own safety — she simply didn't trust that the Aurors would be any help in this matter. It was a precarious position, feeling unsafe in her own mind, and she wasn't sure that having an Auror looking after her physical safety would make things much better. It would just make things more inconvenient, derail her life even further.

"Inconvenience is not a factor you should be considering. At all," Julien had said, stopping his pacing to face Ginny. His voice was unyielding, the way it was when he directed drills in their duelling practices. "This could be a life or death decision for you. I'm not compromising on this."

"But what if I have an episode, or something else strange happens through the diary? Do you really think an Auror will help with that? Or do they get Legilimency training as well that I'm unaware of?" Ginny had challenged, annoyed at his dictatorial tone.

Julien shook his head silently, but it was clear he knew she was right.

"Then I'll be your Auror detail," he had said.

"But —"

"This isn't a request, Ginny."

And that was how Julien had ended up in Ginny's unkempt flat yet again. She wouldn't say she was pleased with the way things turned out, but it was a better option than having a random Auror staying with her. She felt safe, at least, trusting that Julien would handle any intruders to her flat or her mind. Besides, her guest room had looked forlorn from underuse and could use a visitor.

No, not that kind of visitor, she told the side of herself floating unwelcome ideas.

Julien cleared his throat, having finished a piece of the chicken Ginny had roasted last night. "Thanks for making dinner. I enjoyed it."

"No, you didn't," Ginny returned. "The chicken was dry. I don't have much time to cook much these days."

"Give yourself some credit," Julien said, shrugging. "I've made much worse."

"You cook a lot?" Ginny asked, trying to kill the suffocating silence in the room. She had a hard time picturing the Unspeakable marinating a raw chicken or sautéing vegetables, but hey, the man had come with no shortage of surprises.

"No, but I will make a meal when someone's over," Julien replied. "I always make steak. Easy to impress with, hard to mess up."

"Hmm… so you make steaks for all your dates," Ginny smirked. "Never would have taken you for a romantic."

"I'm not. I haven't dated in years," Julien said with a shrug. "My line of work doesn't allow me to have much of a personal life."

"Your work shouldn't take over your whole life."

"My mentor thought otherwise," Julien stated. He uncorked the bottle of firewhiskey that Ginny had procured, measuring out a healthy portion in one graceful motion. He slid the cup across the table to her before splashing some into his own. "Virto would always tell me, once you're in the Department of Mysteries, you're enslaved to the duty of magic."

Virto. This was his former Unspeakable mentor, the man that had caused such a pained expression to appear on his face. The man who had inspired Julien's faux-ambush in the forest.

"Did he have a family?"

"He had a wife. And you know her."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Who?"

"Healer Morrison to you. To me, she's just Lana."

Ginny's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "Healer Morrison? Her husband used to be an Unspeakable?"

"Virto wasn't just any Unspeakable. He was the mind artist, the best in the world. I wish I knew just half of what did." Julien stared wistfully out the kitchen window, consumed in the indigo sheen of dusk. "Lana is also an expert in mind magic, but with an emphasis on Healing. They were a powerful pair."

"Do you still talk with Healer Morr — Lana?"

"No. When I got the note she referred you to me, that was the first I'd heard from her since Virto —" Julien cut off and cleared his throat. His gaze was dark as it traced the pattern of Ginny's floorboards.

Ginny bit her lip. "What happened to him?"

Julien sighed, and Ginny noticed his knuckles turning white as he clenched the glass, hard. He took a big swig before setting it down none too gently.

"He's gone. I went nomadic with Virto and Lana in the latter part of the war. We were working on a ritual together and one day some Death Eaters came looking for me. We were outnumbered and Lana and I escaped, but Virto didn't."

Ginny shook her head almost imperceptibly. She knew how this story ended. Most prisoners that the Death Eaters took didn't make it to the end of the war. She didn't need to hear the rest, but Julien kept going, a distant look in his eyes.

"Virto was the… most powerful, volatile person I'd ever met. I never fully stopped fearing him. But he cared deeply about protecting the secrets of mind magic. I sometimes wonder how he died."

"I'm sure he protected those secrets until the very end," Ginny said quietly.

Julien said nothing, his fingers drumming on the table. The constant rhythm of his fingertips was the only sound in the room as the air grew heavier.

Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap.

"He was —" Julien started, then shook his head and stopped himself. "You're right. I get nowhere if I keep wondering, but there's just a part of me that'll always be in denial."

"I know. I know exactly what you're talking about. The denial," Ginny replied. A wave of déjà vu washed over her and she squeezed her eyes shut as she felt a familiar pricking at the corners. No tears. No tears. No crying. This isn't about you.

Julien suddenly rose out of his chair, startling Ginny's eyes open. "I'm sorry. We don't need to talk about this. It's a heavy topic."

"Death is a fact of life," Ginny murmured, rising out of her seat as well. Julien paused, his figure hovering over his chair, considering her words. And then he nodded, grabbing their drinks and striding over to her living room, setting down the glasses on her birch coffee table. He sat down, draping one arm over the back of the sofa.

"Come. Let's talk about something else," Julien said.

A grin crept onto Ginny's face from the sight of his long limbs stretched out so casually on her pale pink sofa. And the fact that he had invited her to sit on her own sofa, like it had become his office.

She decided to humor him and plopped down on the other side, bringing one leg up and shifting to face him. With a murmured Incendio, she lit the fireplace, the flames animating shadows across her walls.

"This is different, not having you hurl curses at me," she remarked.

"I could say the same to you," Julien said, raising his eyebrows.

"So what should we talk about, if not about death?" Ginny asked.

"What do you usually do when you come home?"

"What do you think? I go to sleep. Quidditch is exhausting, and so are our training sessions."

Julien chuckled, the sound rich in the small space. "Right. Do you enjoy being a professional athlete?" He looked at her with an easy intensity that made her stomach flutter. She double-checked that her Occlumency shields were in place, trying to ignore the butterflies. She didn't need him reading her mind, whether accidentally or not.

"I love the game," Ginny replied. "It was fun to join the Harpies after the war. I probably won't do it forever, but it's all I know right now."

"Do you ever think about doing something else?" Julien continued, tilting his head. His sharp brown eyes roved all over her face and Ginny swallowed the feeling that he didn't need Legilimency to read her from the inside out.

"I always wanted to help people. I used to dream about being an Auror, or maybe a Healer."

"I see," Julien said, his voice soft. "I think you'd make an excellent Auror. Or Healer. You're fearless. Or you don't let fear get to you."

Ginny shrugged. Growing up with bold, brazen brothers, she had always been the careful one, the one who held back or who was held back. Not many had called her fearless before, and Ginny felt her cheeks warm with the compliment.

This line of questioning was a big departure from anything they had discussed in the past. And a sincere, personal remark from the Unspeakable? After his stony attitude at the quidditch pitch, that was the last thing she'd expected tonight.

She reached out to grab her drink, taking a big swig, determined not to let the probing go one-sided.

"Do you ever think about a different path?"

"I do," Julien said. "I think about breaking my commitment to the Department sometimes."

"For what reason?"

Julien paused, absentmindedly tapping the empty glass he held.

"I can't involve many people in my life because it endangers them." Julien leaned down to pour more firewhiskey, brow pinching. "You're a good example. I stepped in, and you were abducted right outside the Ministry."

"I don't mind." The words spilled from Ginny's mouth automatically. "I mean, I'm glad I met you."

"Hmm." An indiscernible noise came from Julien. Ginny waited for him to continue but he said nothing, the air growing thick with tension. The aftertaste of firewhiskey burned on Ginny's tongue, and the silence stretched until it became persuasive.

"It's true. I'm glad I met you," Ginny repeated. "Even though you confuse me."

"How do I confuse you?"

"I don't know. You're so… distant when we're training, but at some point, like the night of the gala — well, sometimes…" Ginny trailed off, staring down at her lap, knowing Julien's gaze waited on her. She opened her mouth to continue, but her words retreated, silencing her.

"Sometimes what, Ginny?" His voice was expectant, as if he knew what words hid behind her tongue and he was daring her to say them.

Oh, so it's going to be like that.

Ginny caught the challenge, eyes rising to meet his.

"Sometimes, I think you actually care about me."

Time seemed to tense. Julien blew out a quiet breath, but his face remained inscrutable, as if he held a leash on his reaction.

You made me say it, so there you go.

She wanted to shove it in his face. She couldn't stand his rigid silence, not when she had said the words and they were hovering in the open.

"You're really not going to say anything?" she asked, annoyance tinging her voice. "Just tell me if I'm right or wrong. It's the least you can —"

"I can't," he said.

Ginny couldn't help but let out a scoff. "Is that really all you're going to give me? Two words?"

"Yes. And I'm leaving it at that."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Don't make this harder, Ginny," Julien said, his tone roughening at the edges into something dangerous. "Some things are better left unspoken."

"That's a shite answer," she returned. Exasperation was making her bolder, unafraid of anything the man could say, could do.

Julien's jaw ticked, his gaze falling down her neck before traveling back up again.

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "Stop being mysterious. I'm tired of it. Just tell me what you feel."

His eyes blazed against the fireplace, expression darkening with frustration, breaking out of its tight restraint. Ginny returned his gaze, cocking her head.

Or show me.

She let the thought float to the top of her head, knowing he'd siphon it off.

Something snapped and Julien let out a growl under his breath, an almost inaudible note. That was the only warning Ginny got before he leaned in swiftly, his hands grabbing the back of her neck, tilting her head up. His lips met hers in a searing kiss, and Ginny's pulse heightened, soaring up into her head.

His lips were demanding as they traveled over hers, nipping her mouth open. He smelled like sandalwood and smoke and she reveled in the feeling of being consumed. Barely able to catch her breath, she leaned forward, losing herself in Julien's pull, forgetting where she was, who she was, her body melting into his.

It could have been five seconds, or fifty. Time seemed to vanish until Julien broke the connection, relaxing his possessive grip on the back of her neck. He shut his eyes, dropping his hands onto her shoulders heavily.

"We can't," he said. But his voice was a husky, heady sound that betrayed his words.

Ginny shook her head.

"Why not?" she asked, inclining her head to capture his lips again.

Julien made a throaty noise that made Ginny shiver against him. He cupped her head back and leaned into her, his insistent touch betraying his need, deepening the kiss. Feeling the warm weight of his hand on her back, Ginny relaxed into his hold, sinking backwards into the sofa.

It was a slow, aching dance between their bodies and their lips. Julien's arms surrounded Ginny's head and his rock-solid weight pressed against her — she could feel everything as he kissed a slow, tortuous trail along her chin, stopping at the nape of her neck. His touch tickled her skin, goosebumps erupting along the trail he marked.

If she could live within this moment forever, she would.

Her senses felt heightened, intensified with desire, and she let out a soft sigh. Here was a new side of Julien, and she had to say, she really liked this one. It was a striking feeling, seeing the self-controlled man undone.

With a heavy breath, Julien pulled away until they were centimeters apart, tracing Ginny's face from above with hooded eyes.

"You don't know how difficult you've made this," he said, his voice low. "Demanding answers you shouldn't know."

"And what shouldn't I know?" she asked, sneaking her hand up to capture his cheek, running her fingers over the contours of his jaw.

Julien captured her roaming hand and pressed it down to the sofa, his gaze burning with an uninhibited intensity.

"That you make me lose control of all sense, Ginny. I can't think rationally around you, no matter how hard I try. I've worked damn hard to keep any feelings away because of the world I come from. To keep you safe. But today I failed."

Ginny felt her face contort into a caricature of surprise. Of course. He thought he was protecting her. That was why he had shown so many conflicting signals, perplexing her for so long.

Of course. What a simple, stupid reason that caused her months of doubt.

And to think this whole time, I never let myself believe he liked me.

"You don't need to shut me out to keep me safe," Ginny said slowly, fighting to keep her voice calm. "I know about the world you come from. You've taught me about it. And I'm not scared."

He watched her with a distracted ferocity, as if he was wrestling something dangerous in his mind.

"Maybe you should be," he said.

Ginny's face darkened, ready to contradict him again. But he trailed his fingers over her lips, drawing them sideways until they brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. He moved slowly across her cheek, as if savoring every touch.

Then pinching his eyes shut, he dropped his hands and shook his head once, almost imperceptibly. When his eyes cracked open again, they looked different — it was clear he was Occluding, rebuilding a mask. And just like that, his whole expression assumed a rigidity with military precision.

No, Ginny wanted to yell at him, but she couldn't say anything — only able to watch as Julien climbed off her in a fluid motion before gently helping her up. The moment was gone, replaced with a hollow feeling in her stomach.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. I can't do this. It isn't fair for you."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked. With the sudden change, she felt her temper rising. "We both said we wanted this. Didn't you hear?"

"I heard," Julien replied. His hands were balled into tight fists. "I heard, but I can't let myself do this to you. Something is going to go wrong."

"What exactly is going to go wrong?" Ginny asked. "I didn't know you were also a Seer."

Julien's jaw clenched as he broke their staring contest to frown resolutely at the blank walls of her flat.

"I have a duty to perform here, and turning our relationship into something more would be a distraction we can't afford. This is life or death for you. It's not a game."

"I never said it was a game." Ginny replied, voice low. "Is that what you see this — us — as?"

"No — no," Julien said. He rubbed his forehead with his knuckles, down to his temples. "It's much more than that. I can't put you at risk. I — this is a conflict of interest."

"So I'm a conflict of interest," Ginny repeated, biting each word.

Some part of her knew how immature her retorts sounded, but she couldn't ease off. This man was the most frustrating being she had ever encountered. She needed to get tested for emotional whiplash.

Julien shook his head silently. It was clear the Unspeakable refused to budge.

Fine, then. Let him be like that. I'll be like that too.

Ginny stood up and left to her room, closing the door tightly behind her. The night burned with desire and regret, each emotion vying for control within the confines of her restless thoughts.