A/N: Someone very politely told me they were hoping for another chapter before Christmas, so I could only oblige!
Loved the comments on the last chapter, I understand the sentiment. Yes, you'll have to be more patient.
Maybe I should actually start writing some very important chapter... the coming two weeks at work should be reasonably calm so if you bribe me better than last time, maybe I'll be really nice and we'll get to that chapter I know you want to read. My ask box on tumblr is definitely not a bribe-free zone. Or just ask politely I am really not that difficult actually ;)
Merry Christmas and happy holidays!
Harry had disappeared downstairs at night two more times since the first time she had noticed. Those times he had been less evasive and when he got back to bed, she had scooted back into his arms and he had held her again.
Now she just worried as he remained downstairs. Finally giving in to her curiosity, she stepped out of bed. She didn't want to make him feel like she was spying on him so she made sure he had heard her before she appeared in the kitchen.
He was already looking when she stepped around the corner. He put his wand down on the counter.
"You're up again." She hesitated somewhere halfway to the kitchen counter.
"Bad dream." His expression was more sullen than his tone suggested.
She nodded in understanding and didn't move.
He glanced away from her, sighing. "You're not letting this go, are you?"
She walked closer to him. "I just don't understand…"
He seemed to hesitate for a moment. "You remember me telling you that I've meddled with my memory?"
"That you're still missing pieces?" she asked carefully.
"In those dreams…" He took up his wand again, looking at it instead of her. "Some of those memories slip in when I dream."
"Are you trying to get them back?" She wanted to reach out to him, but she was unsure how he'd react. She was surprised he hadn't turned her away yet.
He nodded. "I want to get all of them back eventually." He swallowed, his arms wrapping around himself. "But I took them away for a reason. So it is difficult to get them back as well, because I have to go through the emotions I tried to forget."
"So when you dream about it, you try to get them back?" she asked, pushing on now that he had opened up. "No wonder you feel bad after."
He sighed. "It's fine, it's my own fault. I just don't want to forget my parents that way… or my godfather."
She reached out and touched his hand softly. "You tried to cope the best you could then."
"I regret it still." He took a deep breath and put on a brave face. "You can go back to sleep, I'll be up in a minute."
She knew that was as much as he was going to give her tonight and she didn't want to push further. She nodded. "Alright." She walked the two steps to him and placed a kiss on his cheek.
He smiled softly at it, keeping eye contact as she leaned away. She squeezed his hand reassuringly and then walked up the stairs. She couldn't sleep yet so she rested quietly until she heard his footsteps on the stairs.
He didn't seem too surprised she was still awake. He crawled back under the sheets. She took the liberty to scoot back in closer to him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, tucking his face in the crook of her neck.
She rubbed his scalp for a moment. As much as she would like to ask questions, she knew that would make him pull away. So instead she remained silent, keeping him close until his body relaxed and he moved, resting his head on the pillow.
When she woke up in the morning, Harry was already downstairs. She crawled out of bed and walked downstairs slowly, still sleepy.
"Morning," Harry said.
She mumbled a reply, sitting across from him.
Harry handed her tea with a small smile. "Still tired?"
"Was sleeping very deeply," she replied.
He nodded and sat back down at the table. He looked at her expectantly. When she didn't speak, he did. "I know you have questions."
"Yes. But I don't need to have them all answered," she said softly.
He let out a confused laugh. "Did I just hear you correctly?"
"Yeah." She couldn't help but smile a little too. "I know I can push your buttons sometimes. I don't need all the details. I'm actually surprised you opened up to me."
Harry looked at his plate instead of her. "I know I have been taking it out on you sometimes when it really wasn't your fault. I owed you an explanation at some point."
"It wasn't about how you treated me. I was just concerned about you, really." She sighed. "I want to help."
"I know you do." He looked at her compassionately.
"And?"
He simply shrugged. "I am not sure if you can."
"Now, Harry. You know when I am determined…" She smiled carefully.
He chuckled. "I am sure you'll keep trying until this is over."
She bit her lip. "Precisely."
When she arrived for dinner on Friday, Ron pulled her apart and expectantly looked at her.
"What?" She preferred pretending she didn't know what he was asking, and then perhaps he'd leave her alone.
"So… have you told him yet?" He looked unusually hopeful.
"No." She shook her head and frowned. "What's it to you? He doesn't even support the Chudley Cannons."
Ron chuckled. "No one with common sense does."
"You know it," she muttered.
Ron cleared his throat. "And you are still… sleeping with him?"
"Stopping would cause questions I can't deal with yet," she admitted. Her shoulders slumped. "I know this may hurt more in the end."
"Not if he says yes," he said. "Though I can't advise continuing to sleep with him. It may not be the best course of action." He shrugged, looking a bit sheepish.
"If only the sex wasn't so good," she complained.
Ron seemed a bit alarmed. "He can't possibly be that good?"
"Well… "
Ron raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
"You see his hands—"
"—And that's enough information, thank you," Ron interrupted her. "I'll take your word for it."
George walked in. Ginny knew either Ron or Fred would've told him.
"Go on, tell me I am an idiot," she said.
George shook his head. "No, I won't. Have you talked to him yet?"
"Talked? Yes." She turned around and pretended to look at the books. "Told him? No."
George leaned against the bookcase, crossing his arms. "You've got to."
She resisted rolling her eyes. "You're as helpful as the other two. "
"Maybe that is because we are right."
"You don't know a thing," she retorted. "It's not as black and white as you've made it out to be. We may be on the same team soon, that's not going to be awkward at all."
"On the other hand, a couple on the team may be a first," Ron added in.
She turned around to him and Ron promptly took a step back.
"The fake relationship isn't going to last forever," George offered. "Then what?"
She let out a sigh. "I don't know! And neither do you so just leave me alone! I regret even telling you in the first place!" She walked out to the garden and sat down with a huff.
A moment later, George stepped out and came to sit beside her. He pulled her close. "Harry is a great lad. I don't think you have to worry."
"I could ruin our friendship."
George nodded. "I used to worry about that as well with Angelina."
"Really?" She looked up at him in surprise.
"Nah, she clearly had the hots for me." He smirked. "But so do you and Harry."
Resigned, she slumped against the back of the bench. "I know you're trying to help, but you're really not."
"That's because you're stubborn." He patted her arm. "You're a Weasley, you'll figure it out. We are just rooting for you." He seemed to think about something. "Suppose you could say he is Weasley-approved. And with six brothers, that is an impressive feat."
She chuckled. "Yes, he is very pleasant and all that. That's kind of my issue right now."
"I know you have a lot going on," he continued. "And maybe this isn't what you want to deal with right now. I just think you're torturing yourself with waiting."
"You know you can't change my mind, right?" She raised an eyebrow at him.
"Yes." He nodded. "I am just telling you what I think, and you do with that what you want." He pushed off and walked back inside.
Ginny was still in her parents' living room, chatting with her brothers when there was a knock on the door frame. Harry walked into the living room. She looked at him with a frown, wondering why he was there.
"You're late." He remained by the door, his hands in his pockets.
Her whole family fell silent to follow the exchange.
She wracked her brain. "For what?"
"We have an insanely early date tomorrow, you were supposed to come over." He glanced down. "I was worried something had happened."
Her eyes widened. "Ooh! I forgot about that completely. Is that tomorrow already?"
"Pretty sure," he replied. "Are you coming or are you staying here?"
"I'll come, let me just grab my stuff." She quickly stood up and ran upstairs to get a change of clothes.
When she was about to go back downstairs, Fred stepped into her room.
"Isn't a date a good time…" he suggested.
She took a deep breath. "Fred, these aren't normal dates. These are dates specifically designed so we can be photographed. Do you think I want that conversation photographed, no matter the outcome?"
He looked down to the floor. "I hadn't considered that."
"Of course you don't," she replied. She was annoyed. No one understood, except Harry, ironically. "You know if this wasn't all tied up together, I'd already asked him. Or at least hesitated less." She adjusted her bag on her shoulder. "I don't think I'm ready to face all the consequences." She quirked an eyebrow at him, wondering if he was going to step aside.
"I know we don't give the most useful advice… but if you actually need anything from us, you just got to say."
She squeezed his arm. "I know that. I promise I have a handle on things, even if it doesn't make sense to anyone else."
When she arrived downstairs again, Harry smiled at her.
"I am really sorry, I forgot what day it was," she told him.
"No problem, I'm just glad you're okay." He was holding a cup of tea someone must have offered him in the five minutes she was upstairs.
"What's the date, if I may ask?" Ron tried from the couch.
"A sunrise date on a hill… very romantic," Harry said with a wink. He turned to her. "Ready?"
Harry got settled on the bed as she changed into her sleep shirt.
"You have been chewing on a question since this morning," Harry noted. "Are you going to ask it or not?"
She walked onto the bed and settled down, eyeing him carefully. She wrapped her arms around her knees. "I am just curious about the memory—I feel like this one weighed on you less than the first one I encountered did. The other two as well… it was different."
He nodded. "They're… they weren't so different." He fidgeted with the bed sheet.
"Then what's the difference?" she tried carefully.
He didn't look up to her. "It's you." He let out a sigh. "Knowing you'd still be here in the morning and wouldn't even care if I was grumpy." He met her eyes. "I am starting to learn it doesn't always suck as much."
She reached out to his hand hesitantly and squeezed it reassuringly. "I am glad. You've got to stop being so hard on yourself."
"I know."
"Thank you for opening up to me. I know it can't be easy," she told him.
"I trust you." He smiled warmly at her.
Her heart skipped a beat. "Good. You should." She bit back her smile.
