A/N: I have to say I found the bribery attempts rather tame, but I know this chapter is awaited so I'm delivering!

I'm sure you'll have comments, which you can leave when you're done with the chapter because I updated early... ;)

Happy Sunday!

Content warning: Morbid joke from Harry about his dead parents being buried/not cremated.

Ginny waved off her teammates together with Harry as they travelled back home. When they disappeared, she turned back to Harry. "I think they liked you."

"I wasn't convinced." He checked his watch. "We should get going."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "I don't have the energy for a full schedule."

"No worries," he told her. "We are doing a small slow walk in the morning, and then a castle visit in the afternoon."

She folded her arms and looked at him. "If I get tired, will you carry me?"

"Sure."

She bit back a smile. "I was kidding, but good to know."

The walk was all fine and well, until they came across a rather steep part. Any other day she would have run up there, but the whole week of boot camp did weigh on her. She let out a long sigh as she eyed the climb.

"Come on." Harry beckoned her, standing with his back to her, offering to give her a piggy-back ride.

Despite her mild objections, Harry took her arms and pulled them over his shoulders and then took her legs and hitched her up on his back with some difficulty. She was laughing the whole time, enjoying seeing him struggle a little.

"You could be less of a dead weight," he commented as he started to walk up. He went slowly so he could watch his footing.

"I'm sorry." She smiled, adjusting her arms so she wouldn't fall off.

He nodded. "I have my parents for that."

Her eyes widened. "Dang Harry." She was not used to him joking about his parents' deaths.

"Should've had them cremated when I had the chance," he muttered.

She let out a careful chuckle. "You know that for next time."

"I am sorry, I think I'm all out of parents to cremate," he retorted.

His breathing grew more laboured as they came halfway through the climb.

"You can do it, Harry," she encouraged him. "Go go!"

He mumbled something under his breath she didn't catch, and he continued slowly up the hill.

"I'll tell Michael you did a ton of great cardio," she told him.

"Yeah," he snorted. "Thanks."

He reached the top completely out of breath. He put her down and then let himself drop down on the grass. He gasped for breath, looking at her.

She stood there, waiting for him to catch his breath. "You okay, honeybee?"

His eyebrow quirked. "Honeybee. That's a new one." He looked up at the sky. "I don't think I want to be a male bee."

She frowned. "Why not?"

He looked back at her. "For one thing, because they die when they have sex."

She laughed. "Oh yeah." She sat down beside him. "I guess we can both be hot fudge."

"That's the highest of compliments and you know it." He pushed off the floor with his hands and sat back up.

"Recovered?" she asked softly.

"Yes." He stood up and pulled her up. "Let's go, hot fudge."

After lunch, they went to visit one of the castles.

"I've done my reading yesterday, so I can tell you all about the history," he said as they walked into the entrance.

Her eyes widened. "I have my own personal guide? What a treat."

He beamed at her. "I know. Specialised tour. Otherwise we wouldn't be able to stop and ponder on the name 'Longshanks' as you would like to."

"Ah, you know me so well." She walked after him, listening to him talking about the lengthy history of the castle.

It was amazing what effort Harry put into their fake dates. He still made the effort to make them enjoyable for both of them, and more often than not it ended in sex regardless.

She watched as his lovely green eyes flitted from the castle back to her as he talked. She nodded, asking questions here and there. He would get so excited if he already knew the answer.

She had missed him until Thursday. They had become so accustomed to seeing each other regularly, that being apart suddenly felt uneasy. She had figured out a while ago she wanted to keep him in her life after it was all over.

"Murder holes." He pointed at the contraptions. "Don't show your brothers those, could be a total disaster."

She smiled in agreement. "Definitely."

He took her hand and her stomach flipped at the casualness of the gesture. She gripped his hand tighter and he didn't let go as they came to a stop in the next room. Suddenly feeling nervous under his gaze, she focused on a piece of armour for far too long.

"Ah, I see you've found Longshank's armour." Harry pointed at the rather large codpiece on the armour.

She burst out laughing, her cheeks heating up. She glanced at him. "Is it his?"

His eyes twinkled. "It could be."

She shook her head, smiling. She could feel a pleasant fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach. She closed her eyes and breathed out. She cleared his throat. "Why was he called Longshanks?"

"He was tall for that time, 6 foot 2, and he had long legs. Made him a good horse rider, and his long arms made him a good swordsman," he told her.

She nodded, trying to keep her composure. "How tall are you?"

"6 foot 1." His eyes widened. "Don't even dare to consider calling me Longshanks."

She gasped in disappointment. "Aw, come on. How did you know?"

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "I know you."

Her cheeks heated further. She felt her hand go clammy, but pulling it away abruptly would seem odd. She'd just have to wait for a good moment to let go of his hand.

He somehow held onto her hand for two more rooms but at least he didn't take notice of her suddenly clammy hand. Or he was too decent to mention it.

As soon as they walked onto the battlement, she let go of his hand to look over the wall. She leaned over so far, that Harry reached out to stop her from keeling over. She looked at him. "I'm alright, I have steady feet."

"I'd rather be sure."

She beamed at him. It was nice that he looked out for her, but now it made her heart flutter. The hotness had not left her cheeks.

"Are you tired?" he asked as he came to stand beside her now that he was sure she was stable.

She shook her head. "Now that my body isn't under constant strain, a bit of walking and different movements are helping my muscles to relax."

"Thought it might," he admitted softly.

If only he would stop being so damn charming and perfect. Then the swooping, overwhelming, pleasant but unwelcome feeling wouldn't have happened.

"I'm glad because I have plans when we get home." His eyes trailed unapologetically down her body.

Part of her wanted to decline, but that would definitely raise suspicion. The other, bigger part of her wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with him. Having him place kisses all over her body, their bodies entangled and sweaty as his tongue drags along her lip and nips at her skin. She swallowed. She was in deep trouble.

He grinned at her. "Oh, you have plans for tonight, don't you?" His finger tickled her side.

"Nothing in particular," she told him. She didn't know what to say, for once. And he couldn't find out. He couldn't find out about any of it, it would be bad. "I believe you are my personal guide of the day." She quirked an eyebrow. "You can show me all the corners of your bedroom."

He bit his lip but he couldn't fight the laugh spilling past his lips. "That was terrible," he let out in amusement.

She let her head hang in embarrassment. Great, now she had lost her game too.

"I was rather thinking of uh, an indoors guided tour…" He leaned closer to her to whisper in her ear so no one else could overhear them. "But you'd be the guide. I promise I'll be as good a visitor as you have been this afternoon."

She clicked her tongue. "That was worse."

"Dang it." He shook his head, looking amused. "I'll come up with something by tonight."

She bumped her hip against him. "No need. Your Longshanks is always welcome."

He turned red. "Wow. I'll… uh… I'll keep it in mind."

His embarrassment put her at ease. "Let's see the rest of this castle before your Longshanks makes an appearance." She took his hand again and pulled him along the rest of the battlement.

Ginny stepped out of the shower and brushed through her hair. She wrapped a towel around it too as she dried off her body and stepped into her night shirt and underwear.

She did not enjoy the realisation she had in the afternoon at all, but she couldn't suddenly pull away from him. This had been going on too long and they had settled into this routine she couldn't simply abandon without explanation, nor did she want to. She just needed to find a solution to all these newfound feelings.

She did a drying spell on her hair, not caring how it was lying and hung up the towels. She walked to Harry's room and paused in the doorway. He was finishing putting laundry away. He glanced at her with a small smile as he spotted her come in but she didn't move. Heat flooded her system in a way that was different from when she was turned on. Her stomach somersaulted and she didn't know if she wanted to run towards him or away from him.

Harry closed the closet door and turned to her. Harry's hand came to her cheek so casually. When did they get to this point? "I'll go shower quickly."

"I am going to swing by Ron's quickly," she told him. "I— I forgot I promised Ron I'd swing by tonight. He is probably waiting for me."

"It's late already," Harry said.

She nodded. "Still, I promised. I am just going to drop by." She stepped away from him. "Sorry." She looked around.

"Trousers," Harry commented. "You need those."

Now she felt her cheeks heat up. She stepped into her shorts and pulled a hoodie on over her shirt. That would do.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Harry asked. "It's late."

No, no. He could very much not come. She shook her head. "I got my wand, I don't need yours." She closed her mouth abruptly. "I didn't mean it like that!" she said, embarrassment rising in her stomach.

Harry laughed. "Really? I thought that was funny." He looked over at her. "I know you can take care of yourself without my wand."

A joke she would have laughed at any other day. Now she just wanted to get out before Harry detected her betraying blush and asked what was wrong. "Go ahead and shower. I may be a while." She exited the room.

"I'll wait up," Harry called after her.

She paused on the landing. "I may be a while, you don't have to."

"I need to know you made it back safely."

She sighed and closed her eyes. She would have to come back or he'd stay up all night worrying. "Okay," she said weakly and then rushed out the door.

She disapparated to the alley that led to the back door to the Wheezes shop. She let herself in, and walked up the stairs to their apartment. She pounded on the door loudly, not caring how many brothers she woke.

Fred opened the door just an inch and looked outside. "Ginny?" He immediately opened the door to let her in. "Is everything okay?"

"I need to talk to Ron."

Fred's eyebrows rose. "He's in his room but did something happen with anyone? With Harry?"

"Yes, no." She pushed past him. "Where's George?"

"Out with Angelina," Fred answered. "I'll make tea."

"You're not invited!" she said and then opened the door to Ron's room.

Ron abruptly sat up in his bed, squinting at the bright light streaming into his room. "What's going on?"

"Emergency." She kicked off her shoes and stepped over his legs on the bed and plopped down without waiting for Ron's invitation.

He sighed but sat up, looking at her worriedly. "What kind?"

She grimaced. "The emotional kind."

Ron appeared to be biting back a smile. "What did Harry do?"

She frowned at him, completely indignant. "Who said it was about Harry?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Isn't it?"

She pouted. "... Yes."

Ron put his pillow up against the wall and leaned against it. "Go on, give me the shocking news."

Her cheeks felt like they were burning, and she looked down at her hands. "I think I may be in love with him. And not in a cute crush kind of way." She looked up at him. "In an intense all-encompassing kind of way and I don't know what to do." She waited anxiously for his reaction.

"Shocker," Ron mumbled with the hint of a smile.

The door swung open and Fred came in with a tray. On it were three mugs and a pot of tea. He put it down on the middle of the bed and made himself comfortable at the foot of it. Ginny stared at the tea.

"So..." Fred said, pouring the tea undisturbed into the three mugs. "What are we talking about?"

Ron took up one of the mugs and turned to Fred. "Ginny has just told me she thinks she may be in love with her fake boyfriend."

Fred frowned for a moment and then turned to her. "We know that already." He handed her a mug.

She glared at him. "How can you already know if I just figured it out!" Why she thought coming here was a good idea, she did not know.

She could see him fighting back a joke, perhaps her expression was upset enough that he knew it was not the time.

He patted her knee. "Falling in love doesn't happen in the blink of an eye, not for most people anyway." He stirred his tea thoughtfully. "It builds slowly as you get to know each other and then when it reaches the point of no return, it—"

"Hits you like a beater's bat to the noggin?" Ginny completed numbly.

"Yeah."

She sighed, rubbing her head. "What am I going to do? I still have to keep up this whole fake relationship thing. I can't just leave!"

Her two brothers looked at her in complete confusion. Then they exchanged looks with each other.

"What?" she asked them.

"There is another option." Fred took the spoon out of his tea and sipped it.

"Yeah." Ron shot her a sympathetic look. "Have you considered just telling him?"

"Of course not!" she let out. "That is the worst idea ever. Why did I bother coming here?"

"That's the obvious choice," Fred said. "That's what people do."

She put her tea mug back down on the tray and folded her arms. "I can't. How can we continue all this fake relationship stuff? We still need to kiss in public and he's going to know I'm just..." She shook her head abruptly. "No."

"That's assuming he turns you down," Fred told her with a hint of sympathy.

Her eyes widened. She imagined blurting out she loved him and he stalled, withdrew from her, his expression confused, mildly disgusted even. Her heart was already shattering in a million little pieces at the thought.

Ron snapped his fingers in front of her. "Hey." He offered her a comforting smile. "He's not going to turn you down; that bloke is mad about you."

She shook her head, unable to believe it. "No, that's just... simple bodily attraction. That doesn't mean anything."

"That's not what we've seen," Fred told her over his mug of tea.

Ron nodded in agreement. "Look, I don't know what you two do in private, and frankly I don't want to know." He shivered at the thought. "But the only thing we have seen is how you act in daily life with each other. Trust me, he's into you."

They were not being helpful at all. She needed someone who was being realistic, not hopeful. Someone who told her straight what it came to. "You don't know him," she said in her defence.

"You don't need to know him to see that one." Fred shared another look with Ron as if she was being completely unreasonable. "We all know. You two are not being subtle."

Ginny scoffed. "How could I have acted on feelings I didn't even know I had?" She pulled her knees up towards her. "Even if he is into me..."

"He is," Fred interjected.

"It doesn't mean he's in love with me..." She let out a deep sigh. "What if he just wants to hold hands or something?" She looked at Ron for a reply.

"You are already having sex with him."

She pursed her lips. "I see your point." She groaned, remembering she had to go back. "I am supposed to have sex with him later."

"Confess first and then you can 'celebrate' after," Fred suggested with a grin.

She slapped against his leg. "Real solutions, please!"

Ron set his mug down too. "Look. Talking about your feelings is difficult and scary. So wait until you are ready, but you have to tell him. You have to take the leap, Ginny. I promise it will work out."

"I... I don't know." She couldn't imagine confessing and him telling her he loved her too. That didn't feel like an actual possibility.

"Do you want to crash on the couch tonight? Give you some breathing time?" Fred suggested.

She shook her head. "I have to go back, he said he would wait up for me."

Ron looked unimpressed. "Yeah, because he's in love with you and worries about you."

Ginny closed the door, hoping that Harry was already asleep and she could just sneak into bed with him. She walked up the stairs slowly. It felt like everything was different, but nothing had actually changed.

She found him reading a book as he sat on the bed. She leaned against the door frame. "I thought I told you that you could go to sleep."

Harry put down his book. "And I told you I wouldn't." He put it down on the nightstand. "I did spend my time well. I've been meaning to read this, but it seems something always interrupts my reading.

Ginny bit through the bullet and walked to him before he could ask her why she was hovering by the door. She got onto the bed and sat beside him on her knees, facing him. "How terrible. What's interrupting your reading?"

"It starts with a G and ends with a Y." He grinned at her.

She rose again and straddled his lap. Maybe if they had sex, all these crazy feelings would go away. Maybe she was just horny. Her hands came to his shoulders. "Am I more interesting or the book?" She wasn't sure if she was fishing for any hints of his feelings, or if she was simply torturing herself.

"Considering the amount of nights you've won over the book, I think it's safe to say it's you." He pulled her closer, eyes locked.

She resisted the instinct to look away. Had his eyes always been that intense? She could drown in them. Harry leaned into her and kissed her. She kissed him back softly, her eyes slipping closed as her hands reached to hold his face. Just as she was about to run her fingers through his hair, Harry leaned away again.

He looked at her in wonder. "Something is different."

Ginny gulped as she stared at him and for a moment she considered confessing her gooey, cheesy, overwhelming feelings to him. It felt like pouring warm soup into his lap. Panic rose. "You got me," she faked a smile. "I'm an impostor."

Harry blinked at her for a moment and then grinned. "Good thing I know an actual impostor wouldn't reveal themselves like that." He cocked an eyebrow. "Nevertheless, I should check." Harry's hands moved, dragging across her legs as his eyes ran over her skin. He lifted her hoodie.

Torture. She was definitely torturing herself.

"Looks like you," he said as he met her eyes again.

And there was that pleasant swooping feeling again. "Harry, that's now how you check for an impostor." She shifted in his lap. "Ask me something only I would know."

"What memory did you ask me to obliviate?" he asked.

Heat rose in her cheeks once again. "Our first kiss," she said reluctantly.

Harry's eyes danced over her face and she knew she was blushing. "Are you still embarrassed by that?"

She nodded, if he thought it was about that, that was fine. "I don't think I am ever living that down, to be honest."

"It's our little secret," Harry said tenderly.

She bit her lip. "Have I convinced you it's really me?"

He shook his head. "No, no." He pulled her closer. "I will have to verify if your body is indeed identical." He pulled the hoodie off her body. "That has to go." He pulled her shirt up. "No—No bra." He shook his head warily. "Unfortunately, that doesn't tell me anything." He closed his eyes. "Hang on, I think I recognise these better by touch than sight."

She would have to suffer through the torture if this was the result. She took her shirt off.

Eyes closed, his hands cupped her breasts. His fingers were warm against her skin.

"Harry."

His eyes opened again. "Yeah?"

"And?"

He looked down and back up. "Incredibly familiar tits but... I think I'll have a more thorough investigation—you understand."

She smiled, her eyes dancing over his face. "Sure. Do you need any help or...?"

"Not at all. You could be bamboozling me further with your tricks," he said. He guided her to lie down on the bed. "How about these lips?"

He dipped down and she grabbed onto him maybe a little too enthusiastically as his lips connected with hers. He leaned away a little again, his gaze intense.

"I am an impostor, aren't I?" she whispered.

He nodded. "I'm afraid so."

She tickled his neck. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Give you what you want," he said. "That's the safest for all parties involved."

She chuckled and wrapped her legs around his waist. "That's for the best," she agreed. "Pants off, Potter."

He grinned. "See, now I know for sure it's you." He kissed her again.

Ginny washed her face at the sink and looked at herself in the mirror. She still didn't know what to do, but sex had at least not made matters worse. Yet it had not resolved her feelings; it had not been a horny fluke. She would just have the accept that she loved him, and that wasn't going to change any time soon. She didn't have the nerve to tell him, not yet. She didn't want to let him go.

She bent over and rested her forehead against the cool counter. She knew she was a hypocrite—she had teased him often enough about developing feelings for her. He'd have every right to scoff at her if she did decide to come clean. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

A hand squeezing her side caused her to yelp and she shot up abruptly. Wide-eyed she met eyes with Harry.

"The door was open... I didn't mean to scare you, I thought you heard me." He sounded apologetic as he took his hand back.

She took a deep breath, composing herself. "My bad. Do you need to pee? I can step out."

He shook his head and took up his toothbrush. "Came to brush my teeth."

"Ah, I still need to do that too," she said, grabbing her toothbrush.

Harry put toothpaste on his and handed the tube to her. "Really? What have you been doing in here for the last ten minutes?" he asked before starting to brush his teeth.

She put the toothpaste on and put the tube back. She turned to him. "Checking what marks you left this time. I can't afford not noticing when Livvy is involved."

"And?"

Ginny shot him a judging look and pulled down the collar of the grey shirt. "Don't act like you don't know that's there."

He smiled, the foam of the toothpaste almost threatening to drip out of his mouth. "I had to make sure the impostor wasn't switching around. Had to leave my mark."

"Now the real reason?" she asked. She put her toothbrush in her mouth and quirked an eyebrow.

Harry spit out the remainder of the toothpaste. He rinsed the toothbrush and put it back in the cup. He pulled her shirt down. "There is a…collection of freckles there that I like that could use some extra attention."

She inhaled, the toothpaste escaping into her throat and she coughed.

"Are you making fun of me?" he asked.

She shook her head abruptly, ducking for the tap. She rinsed her mouth and then swallowed some water to clear her throat. She stood back up and closed the tap. She lifted her shirt. "Is that why you always leave a hickey right around here?" She pointed at the spot between her hip bone and her belly button.

Harry looked at it and then back up to her face, unmoved. "Yeah." He stepped closer to her, his finger coming to the spot. "It kind of looks like a little sun-shape if you trace it like this." He made a circular shape with the tip of his finger and then traced the rays.

Her whole body heated up at his touch, more so than it had before. She was in trouble if her feelings made her even hornier for him. She looked down. "What? Sun shape?"

"Right here." He pointed again and looked up at her innocently. He had no idea what he was doing to her.

She pulled her shirt back down and shook her head. She walked off to the bedroom and settled on her side of the bed.

"Are you going to sleep over there tonight?" Harry asked, coming to lie across from her.

She stared at him without replying.

He patted the spot right beside him. "Come on, I know you want to."

She shuffled closer and waited for him to wrap his arms around her. Enveloped in his scent and warmth, nice and cosy. She was going to ignore the hot and bothered.

"Did something happen at Ron's?" Harry asked.

She closed her eyes. "I don't want to talk about it."

His hand caressed her side. "Okay. Just know you can talk to me about anything, okay?"

She breathed in sharply. "I know," she said with a fake cheeriness.

Minutes went by and Ginny couldn't find sleep. She knew she'd feel better if she actually knew, one way or another even if it was scary. She lifted her head to look at him. His eyes were closed.

"Harry?" she asked quietly.

He didn't react, he seemed deep asleep. Ginny sighed and tucked back into him and closed her eyes, begging for sleep to come quickly.