()()()
Chances with Parole
()()()
Harry pulled into the drive through the shrubbery on a dirt path that led up to the house of his next probation case. This one was young, a year younger than him. He was glad of the age, and gender of this one; it meant that she was less likely to think he was incapable of doing his job.
He might be one of the youngest probation officers out there, but that wasn't because it was his chosen career path, it was just because he had fucked up in a major enough way that it was either this or find a new career.
Ginevra Weasley had been getting her probation extended year after year for breaking minor rules, ones just minor enough to keep her on their radar, and on his new circulation.
It had been only three weeks now that he'd been stationed out in this part of the country. It wasn't a bad place to live, but it wasn't London with all of their organized crime and international folks that kept things interesting. He'd joined up with the forces straight after finishing up his A levels, dead set on rising through the ranks to investigator as soon as possible. He wanted to be the youngest person to do it.
And he was.
Then his first case went so completely and horribly wrong that he was given the choice of a permanent demotion or a complete change of environment.
Change of environment it was.
He didn't know of any other job that he might want to take up.
He'd found a small cottage to let in Exeter and been doing the rounds to the 100 persons he'd been assigned to. Most of them would take one look at him, scoff, then tell him that they hadn't done anything to break their probation, in the most patronizing way possible.
None of them looked like they trusted him at all either.
He wasn't sure what his predecessor was like with them all, but in his experience with probation officers none of them trusted their probationary cases at all either.
Harry hoped that over time he could at least build some kind of rapport with them. Maybe if he could convince the lot of them to keep on the straight and narrow then his number of persons assigned to him would go way down and upper management would consider moving him back to London so he could start rising through the ranks again. He wouldn't mind starting out at the bottom all over again.
Most of the charges against his caseload were all misdemeanors, it wasn't too big of a stretch to think that he could get them out of probation.
This next one he was visiting, she'd started with a misdemeanor, something childish. It looked like she'd kept on making childish mistakes.
He pulled up in front of the farmhouse that Ginevra had listed as her home address. From the size and state of it, he gathered she still lived at home with her mum and dad. It was farmland that they were surrounded by, and she didn't have a permanent occupation listed, so she likely worked the land with her folks.
He got out of his car and made sure that her file was pulled up on his phone so he could go through the meeting as quick as possible. Her picture was the first thing to pop up, and it was her mug shot from when she was seventeen, her blazing brown eyes and scowl directed at the camera. She wasn't an unattractive girl back then.
The door to the house was bright red and he heard some music coming from inside, so he knocked loudly. A minute later a polite, petite and plump redheaded woman opened the door and greeted him.
"Mrs. Weasley?" She nodded. "Officer Harry Potter, I'm here to check in with your daughter, Ginevra, is she in?"
Mrs. Weasley's smile turned into a frown and she rolled her eyes. "Well, you look a bit nicer than the last man that she was stuck doing her check-in's with. She's out in the first barn around back, slinging hay. Go on around and have a chat with her."
She was about to close the door on him, but he stopped her. "Sorry, can you just confirm for me that this is still her permanent address?"
"Would you write her up if it wasn't?" she snarked at him.
This was the type of response that he got from everyone.
He really hated this job.
"No, I'd just update her file," he told her honestly.
"Then I guess you are nicer than the last one. Yes, she still lives here. And she will go on living here until your lot realize you're wasting your time." With that she closed the door on him.
Harry stood there for a moment longer on the stoop and took a deep breath, eyes closed, trying to calm himself down. "Don't take it personally," he told himself. "They don't know you, they'll change their attitude when they come to know you." He took another deep breath in and let it out, then opened his eyes again.
It wasn't hard to find the barn around the other side of the house, and he could hear something moving around inside it that didn't sound like an animal.
"Ginevra Weasley?" he called out, then his eyes adjusted slightly to the change in light and he saw hay sprinkling down from a loft.
"Up here," she called out. "Finally made it around to my name, did you?" She had her back turned to him and continued on with her work, pitching hay over her shoulder. "Found something to write me up on already, or maybe hoping to find inspiration with potentially dangerous tools around the barn?"
His brow furrowed. "What the hell kind of parole officers have you had before?"
"Oh, I've got stories. And you've probably heard some of them, 'Boy That Cried Bomb'."
His heart skipped a beat when he heard her call him that nickname. She'd looked him up. None of the other parolee's had said anything about knowing his history, but she clearly had. He allowed himself another moment to calm down and cleared his throat.
"No, I haven't heard the stories of the other Parole Officers you've had, but they clearly weren't liked-"
She let out a loud snort at that. "Weren't liked? More like they treated their whole roster as vermin to look down upon. Have you seen the number of stupid shite I've been written up over? Yaxley kept writing me up because I refused to suck his cock. Carrow would write me up because I refused to be a mule for her. So, whatever your game plan is for some side hustle you're dreaming up, I suggest you move on and just do your job."
His mouth hung open and he simply stood there as she continued slinging hay, watching her plaited hair swinging back and forth like a pendulum.
"I… I'm not," he stopped and swallowed, then realized how dry his throat was and cleared it once more. "I'm not going to try anything like that. I'm hoping to get as many of my list off probation as soon as possible."
He watched her come to a stand still, she turned her head to the side, not quite turning around enough to look at him.
"I wish I could believe that, Harry."
His shoulders squared at her use of his first name. "Officer Potter, please," he asked nicely. He wanted her to believe him, but that didn't mean they needed to get on familiar terms with her using his given name.
She let out a single laugh and shook her head, then went for the ladder.
"You know what, Harry," she said pointedly as she ever so slowly started to climb down the ladder. "I was still a minor when these ridiculous charges were made against me by my wicked, manipulative bitch of a former sister-in-law. That cunt dragged my name through the system for just long enough for me to be considered an adult, and the system you so believe in is why I'm still in this position. So, that's one reason I won't be calling you by your title.
"Secondly, titles are earned, I might potentially use yours if I decide that you aren't a deranged psycho bastard like the others have been. However, the third reason is the main reason why I don't think I'll be calling you that."
She had reached the bottom of the ladder now.
"And that is?" he pressed.
Then she turned around and started walking towards him, and suddenly his arms started to go numb.
"Because I tend to only call men by their first name after I've fucked them."
()()()
Three weeks ago
He made quick work of the front door with the key as her hands started to trail down his chest and grasp at him through his trousers, then turned her around so he could continue snogging her like they had been the entire way back to his place from the pub where they'd met.
He hadn't anticipated meeting anyone this fast after he'd moved out here. It might turn out to be a one-off, but he didn't care with the way her lips were on his, then how they kissed, licked and sucked all the way down his neck. His hand was grasping at her arse as he closed the door with his foot, then spun her around again so he could press her up against it.
"Never shagged anyone on the stairs before," she purred in his ear.
He let out a breathy groan at the suggestion, but he knew better than to submit to that request with a stranger, "condoms are in the bedroom though."
She chuckled, "right. When one is making some very questionable decisions, one should be smart about them at least." She pulled his lips back to hers and he lifted her up so her legs wrapped around him and started carrying her up the stairs to his room.
"I'm a questionable decision, am I?" he asked half way up the stairs, needing to pause a moment to collect the rest of his strength needed for the final half of the steps. He rested her back against the wall, very grateful that he hadn't put up any photos of his family yet that would have been knocked down by their activities, and slid his hand up her thigh and under her skirt.
"Well, I did only meet you an hour ago, and we've barely said anything to each other, not that I'm complaining. I'd rather you be using your mouth for other things anyhow." They both chuckled before their lips connected again.
They got to his room and he lay her back on his bed, then clothes started disappearing. He began kissing his way up her torso and to her cleavage, which was still hidden behind a bra.
"Just a tick," she said, and pulled her phone out of her bra, setting it half hazard on his side table, then off came her bra.
She had more freckles than he would have expected on a brunette, particularly since there weren't many on her face. He didn't mind freckles, in fact, he liked them, he proved this by coming up on her side and tracing his finger along several of them around her chest, playing an invisible game of connect-the-dots. Her nipples grew harder as he did this, and seeing that made him grow harder as well.
Through the light from the street lamp he could see that her lipstick was starting to come off, and he couldn't make out the color of her eyes any more. He could tell at the bar that she must have been wearing colored contacts, because the blue of them just didn't seem natural. It didn't bother him though, he simply liked that she'd chosen to sit next to him and was the one to kiss him first.
He rolled on top of her again and took one of her nipples into his mouth, she arched her back off the mattress as he did so, and started tugging at his boxers.
He reached up to the drawer beside the bed and pulled a condom out of it, trying to be as smooth as possible about putting it on while still pleasuring her, then he lined up with her, dipping his fingers inside her a few times first to make sure she was ready. The mewing sound she made told him she was plenty ready for him, though her wetness was indication enough, then he slid inside her.
Three times he'd needed a condom that night; she'd cum five times, he'd cum twice; the second condom had needed to be replaced after her fourth orgasm because he'd needed to get her some water.
It had been an incredible night of shagging.
Then she'd slipped out some time before he'd woken up in the morning, with him having only the vaguest recollection of her getting up and him assuming she'd just needed the loo.
()()()
He was doing his best not to start hyperventilating.
He'd shagged one of his parolees, and he'd done so before he'd even knew she was on his roster.
Temporary hair dye, make up, colored contacts; she'd used it all not to look like herself just in case he might recognize her otherwise.
He wouldn't have realized it then; it was before he had looked at the mug shots. He might not have recognized her when meeting her at the pub even if she hadn't done what she did to change her appearance if he had looked at them; she did not look the same as she did in her mug shot. For one thing, she was looking smug now, her eyes were brighter, her cheeks were sun kissed.
She looked athletic.
And still as fucking attractive as she had at the pub.
"Wh-why, why, why did you-" he stammered.
Ginevra tilted her head at him, "did you ever read or watch The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo?"
His knees were about a minute away from simply buckling underneath him. "What?!"
She dismissed his stupor. "In that, the main character has this guardian that's in control of her money. The guys a right bastard though, so he starts wanting sexual favors every time she asks for more. She then decides to blackmail him by recording it."
Now his knees gave out and he sat down on the dirt at his feet.
Ginevra didn't seem to be bothered by this, she just crouched down so they were still at the same level and pulled out her phone. "Now, don't get me wrong, I was pleasantly surprised by not only how attractive and nice you were, but also by how considerate you were, you know, in bed." She tapped her phone a few times and scrolled her finger across the screen, then let something play and he heard the unmistakable sounds of people shagging, then she turned her phone around so he could see the darkly lit figures of the two of them going at it in his bed. "So, here's the deal, Harry, you say you want to see a bunch of your assigned persons getting off of parole, well, I'd like to be one of them; so, you don't write up any trumped up bullshit about me still being a risk and I won't send this along to your bosses. Understood?"
He couldn't believe this was happening to him!
"You just… decided to completely fuck up my life?" he burst out in anger. "You intentionally sought me out so you could shag me for blackmail material? Before you even knew me?!" Out of everyone on his list that he'd reached out to so far, she was the one he least wanted off of that list now.
She shrugged and pocketed her phone. "I'd done my research on you once I'd gotten notice that my case was changing hands, again. I wanted to know what kind of arsehole they were going to stick me with this time." She then patted his shoulder twice and then kept her hand there. "You read like a decent enough bloke. I'm sure that all those buildings you had evacuated because you were convinced there was a bomb were all with good intention, even if it meant that several terrorists got away in the process and there wasn't a single bomb to be found. Looks like you've got a loving family, went to decent schools; you made detective in record timing, that was impressive.
"None of that meant that you weren't going to come in here and try to fuck up my life like all the others though. I was supposed to be off of parole three years ago. I had that date in my mental calendar and all kinds of plans for what I'd do after." He managed to look up at her and saw as a wistful expression turned dark. "I've had a new date given to me several times now, and I wasn't going to jeopardize that with some preppy guy who had his own dreams squashed by making some bad calls and decided to be the bad guy now."
His teeth clenched together and he glared at her with all the hatred he was feeling, towards her and about how things had gone down with his last job. "So you don't think you're the bad guy in this situation?" he challenged.
She stood up again and shrugged. "Like I said, you're attractive and it was a fun night. Maybe it does make me the bad guy because I don't regret it. Either way, I'll let you take another look over my case and see if I haven't been getting fucked by the system since day one. That night with us, that was just me fucking the system right back." She started walking back towards the ladder to the loft. "I think that was all you needed from me, Harry. And just in case you try anything to get this video, know that I'm not the only one with a copy."
It took him another minute of sitting there to gather himself up and walk back to his car, on autopilot the whole way.
He got into the drivers seat, started it up and made it back out onto the road and five miles in the wrong direction before he pulled over to the side of the road and started screaming at the universe for letting him wind up in this position.
()()()
Once every three months, that was how often he needed to check in on the parolees. And his love life was completely on hold until he'd met every last one of them now. He wasn't going to the pub and forget about any online dating sites, he didn't need to get cat fished.
Ginevra Weasley was haunting his dreams now.
He did as she asked though, he went through her file several times, each time getting more and more thorough and skeptical.
According to the documents she'd been caught sneaking into her ex sister-in-law's house with all intentions of kidnapping her niece.
Why would she want to kidnap her niece though?
There was a custody battle going on between the brother and his ex-wife, that could put people on edge, but it was getting sorted out.
She'd been right about how the sister-in-law kept coming up with things to charge her on; likely as a way to get back at her former husband. There were filings for theft, harassment, implications that Ginevra had let all the air out of her tyres, accusations that there were unlicensed firearms in Ginevra's possession at the family farm.
All of the charges that Penelope Clearwater, formerly Weasley, had come up with against the Weasley family, they'd all been directed at Ginevra. Not a single thing was filed against the former husband Percy or any of his five brothers. There was nothing against Ginevra and Percy's parents either, it was all against Ginevra.
Was it because she was the baby of the family? Was she Percy Weasley's weak spot?
Ginevra was the only girl, and the last born, it would make sense that she would be the one that all the Weasley family would want to protect the most.
There were pictures included in the case filings of her in the backyard of the neighbors house, Ginevra had claimed that she was a babysitter and tutor for the family that lived there, but the owners of the house never confirmed this.
The missing jewelry had never turned up during searches of the Weasley home nor at any pawn shops. And there was one gun at the Weasley farm that wasn't registered, but it wasn't likely to have been hers either, and it was ancient, required lead balls instead of bullets kind of ancient. Antiques didn't technically need to be registered, but with everything else that had been filed, it all got lumped in together and she was deemed a convict, on probation for five years due to her eighteenth birthday falling before the case was closed.
Penelope Clearwater never filed anything against her after that, and her custody agreement with Percy Weasley Harry had looked into also and discovered that the poor father barely got to see his daughter and needed to pay a kings ransom in child support monthly.
Next were the filings from the probation officers. She'd had three before he came along; there was Aberforth Dumbledore, he'd been about seventy and on his last two years before retirement, he'd written her up because she'd gone to France without clearing it with him to visit her oldest brothers family and her new niece for a few days. She would have gotten away with that one had he not chosen while she was away to check in on her. That was something minor and he didn't recommend that her parole be extended for the 'mistake'.
He seemed like he'd been an alright bloke.
But then he did retire and his caseload was taken over by Amycus Carrow, the one Ginevra said tried to get her to be a drug mule for her. There were several write ups on Ginevra from her; being in possession of a fire arm, spending time with convicted felons, in possession of a controlled substance. Each write up added a half year to her parole.
Amycus Carrow was deceased now. Her body had been found on a beach somewhere around Plymouth, it was ruled a boating accident.
When Harry dug a bit deeper he found out that Amycus had a brother, Alecto, and he spent most of his life in Italy and was on Interpol's watch list of suspected drug dealers.
When Harry came across that information he couldn't help but start to believe there was some merit behind Ginevra's accusations.
Corbin Yaxley was her probation officer after that, the one who supposedly offered her good reports in trade for sexual favors. Yaxley had been dismissed, reasons why were private and confidential. When pouring through the many, many write ups on the parolees that he had submitted, Harry noticed a pattern; for the one's that were convicted of dangerous crimes, there was hardly anything, some filings on them being belligerent, mostly minor things, for the non-violent men it was all about them loitering and disturbing the peace, the older women or, and he couldn't think of a nicer way to put it, lesser attractive women, the reports were about them being domestically abusive to their partners or spouses. The younger women though, the one's like Ginevra, it was all things like them being uncooperative or assaulting him with a weapon before calming down, and it was hard for him to not notice how some of those filings for some of those women suddenly stopped, where a few of them kept on being filed.
It wasn't hard to draw a conclusion there; Ginevra had been telling the truth.
She might have jumped the gun by getting blackmail material on him before she got a chance to meet him in an official capacity, but if he'd been in her position, he just might have done the same thing.
He still needed her to destroy all copies of that video though. And not just because his job was on the line; what if it leaked onto the internet and his parents found out?!
Before he knew it, the three months was up; it was time to check on Ginevra again.
He was going to be more delicate about it this time; he'd sent her an email letting him know when he was stopping by, giving her a two hour window for when he planned to be there. He let her know that he had thoroughly reviewed her case and wanted to discuss it more with her, and that she was welcome to have someone sit down and join them if she wanted to.
He still felt sick to his stomach as he drove down that dusty laneway to her family home though. His hand shook as it closed around the car keys that he pulled from the ignition. The walk up to the front door of the Weasley house felt like it took an eternity and a second all at the same time.
She opened the door before he got to it and crossed her arms, leaning against the door frame, staring him down. "Welcome back," she said with a fake smile.
Fuck, why did she have to be pretty and twisted at the same time? And did she intentionally wear a top with fabric that was that thin? Giving him a reminder of what her body looked like underneath the clothes? As if he hadn't been replaying that night over and over in his mind every time he'd given her case another looking over.
Yes, she was dressed modestly, but those modest clothes that were covering up her collection of freckles were hugging to her like they were two sizes too small.
"Is someone joining us?" he asked evenly.
"It's a nice day out, we'll go around to the picnic table at the back of the house. My mum's baking in the kitchen and has a direct view of us, just in case you try something."
"I'm not going to try anything," he growled at her.
"Sure, you're not," she gave a fake pout and singular nod, then led the way around the house. "You said you'd gone over my case; reading between the lines this time?"
"I did," he stated, trying his best not to watch her bum as she walked in front of him. "And like I also said, I have some questions for you."
"Are these the same questions you might have for other people on your list? Because I guarantee you I wasn't the only one Carrow and Yaxley tried to pull that shite with." They reached the picnic table and she sat down, sitting with her back to the house and gesturing to the seat across from her for him.
"They are, and you aren't the only one on my list that I'm going to be asking these kinds of questions to," he said as he held up her folder.
"Glad I was able to make somewhat of a difference then, it's more than most women can say about the power of their vagina."
He stared at her, thoroughly unamused by what she clearly thought was a clever joke.
"Can we please, just for the next hour, pretend that that night didn't happen, pretend that you might have potentially thought I was a decent bloke when I first came here for a visit?"
She tore her gaze away from him and looked out at the field behind him. "Fine."
"Now then. Let's forget about all these Parole Officer visits you've had. Can you tell me what went on with Penelope Clearwater that started this spiral of casework?"
Her eyes went wide with surprise. "You want me to start from the beginning?"
He let go of any unresolved feelings he had for her then and pulled out the proper paperwork case file that he had on her, not the one on his phone. "I just don't get it. She says that you were trying to break in and kidnap your niece, but I don't understand why you would do that?"
"I wouldn't," she leaned forward and told him firmly. "I love my niece, I miss her, but I wouldn't have done anything to jeopardize my brothers fight for custody! Ruby was only six months old when Percy and Penelope divorced. I'd never been keen on Penelope because she was always such a swotty bitch and Percy didn't see that until it was too late, but Ruby, she was a little angel, and my poor brother just wanted shared custody. I worked at the house next to Penelope's as a babysitter and tutored the little boy there in maths. I just didn't realize that the father worked at the company that Penelope's family owned, that's why they wouldn't confirm it in front of a judge; he was afraid he'd lose his job. I'd never set foot in Penelope's house, which she stole from my brother after she'd made it clear she didn't want anything to do with us." She then pointed to the picture of her in the neighbors backyard. "This picture was taken out of context. What it doesn't show is that Ruby was in a basinet wailing her head off because Pen left her out there to 'calm down'."
"Calm down?" he asked in confusion. "But didn't you say she was only six months old?"
"Yeah," she stated, still looking incredulous about it after all these years. "Pen left her out there and was likely in the kitchen downing a full bottle of wine before bothering to go and get her. Meanwhile, I'd heard Ruby screaming and went up to the fence, stood on a lawn chair, and sang to her to try and sooth her. She was probably just cutting teeth or needed a nappy change, but her mum couldn't be bothered."
He shook his head in distain at the possibility of a mother leaving her child outside in the elements while it was in trauma; a crib in their bedroom, maybe, just to gather a moments peace, but outside? If she had told the court that, they might not have believed it.
"What about the robbery charge?" he asked and pulled out the picture.
"You mean that fucking necklace she accused me of taking?" She was already flipping through her phone before he showed her an image of it. "This one?" Her phone was zoomed in on a picture of Penelope wearing the necklace.
"Yes, that's the one. She was wearing it on her wedding day?" As the woman was clearly in her wedding dress.
"She was," Ginevra stated, then zoomed the photo back out so it showed the groom as well, a groom that looked nothing like a Weasley family member. "She wore it at both her weddings. Here she is two years ago with her new husband. Same necklace that 'I stole'. Funny that, isn't it?" She zoomed in on the date that the picture was taken to prove that to him as well. "Next you'll want to ask about the firearm that I don't have a registration for?"
"No," he shook his head. "I already looked into that and that was a trumped up charge, to say the least. It's an antique."
"Thank you!" She raised her arms up with exasperated relief and slammed them down on the table. "Finally, someone actually does their research around here."
"Right," he couldn't resist a small smile at her reaction. "And, er, the tyres and harassment?"
"Okay, so, the harassment was referring to the calls that were made from our house to hers. Now, I'm not saying who they were made by, but I can tell you that, yes, they did occur, and there may have been some colorful language used. But it was all because of the way she was intentionally fucking over the family."
"It does seem like she intentionally set out to target you specifically."
"Yeah," she sighed. "She always hated me, and the feeling was mutual. She couldn't stand how my brother would only stand up to her when she tried to belittle me." She shrugged. "I'm the baby, gotta love me."
Now she'd pulled a laugh from him. "And the tyres?" he asked, moving right along.
"Wasn't me," she shook her head. "For all I know, she changed her tyres and didn't bother checking the tyre pressure on them after 10,000 miles like you're supposed to. Or maybe she just let the air out of them herself. I would never have chanced her getting into an accident when my niece could have been in the car though, you can know that for damned sure."
"Do you stay in contact with her?" he wondered. "Your niece, I mean."
She lifted an eyebrow at him, "I can't. I'm on parole."
He gave himself a mental kick for that one. "Right. I don't suppose your parents can either, otherwise the tale could be woven that it was you harassing her again."
"Got that in one."
The kitchen window opened and a scent was carried over to his nose of the most delicious smelling baked goods. "Holy fuck, what is that?" His mouth was already watering.
"Ginny," her mother called out to her. "I've got a treacle tart for you."
"Thanks mum. Have we got any juice to go with it?" She got up from her seat and walked over to the kitchen window. Harry couldn't hear what she was saying to her mum then, but when she came back to the table she was carrying a plate with two glasses and two plates.
He looked around her back at the window and saw her mother give him a nod, a small sign that she didn't loath him any longer, but the jury was still out on whether she could find herself liking him.
"This is kind of you," he told her. "Er, your parents, your mum in particular, they don't know about… er… the video, do they?"
She sat back down and gave him a baffled look. "You think I told my parents about how I seduced you, shagged you multiple times, and recorded it for my viewing pleasure?" She then took a bite of her tart.
"Viewing pleasure?" he repeated. "I think you mean blackmail."
She smirked at him and slowly pulled her fork out of her mouth. "Two things can be true." She then licked her lips.
God, she really was trying to get him fired still.
He opted not to respond and instead started in on his offered sweet, which was divine. It was easily the best baked good he'd ever had. "Tell me she sells these somewhere!" he moaned after his third bite.
She chuckled. "The farmers market in Ottery St-Catchpole. It's Sunday mornings from eight to noon."
He polished off his plate and drank down the juice. "So, you prefer being called Ginny?" he asked, forgetting for a moment that he was supposed to be keeping this professional.
"Yes. Nobody calls me Ginevra. In fact, it gives me the creeps."
He nodded. "Yeah, I suppose Ginny does suit you better. Ginevra makes you sound kind of villainous."
"I thought I was the villain?"
"You thought I was the villain too. Do you still?"
Ginny looked over all the paperwork from her case that he'd brought, likely noting all the highlighted portions and tabs with question marks all over it. "No." She then stood up and took the plates and glasses back to the kitchen.
"Now then," he said, feeling refreshed. "I've only one last bit of questioning for you."
"One? Not several?"
"No," he shook his head. "I've questioned enough of the other parolees about Yaxley and Carrow that I don't need to ask you about them. What I do want to ask you about is Dumbledore."
"Abe?" she asked in surprise. "He was great. I've no complaints about him. If he hadn't retired then I have no doubt that I would have been out of parole exactly when I was supposed to."
"That's a relief to hear, but he only filed one thing on you and it was about you leaving to France without telling him."
"Yeah," she sighed. "He had to though. And it was an emergency situation; my brother had gotten into some health troubles and needed bone marrow treatment." She stood up and pulled her jeans down over her hip, pointing to a small scar. "We're a match. It hurt like a bloody bitch, but it was worth it. My other niece was born at the same time, same hospital, so I decided to stay and help her while they both recovered, apparently I stayed for too long though."
"And I can have this confirmed if I call the hospital?"
"Yeah," she shrugged. "I hope your French is good though, they hate the English."
He gave a chuckle, "I'm aware."
"Anything else?" she asked.
He shook his head. He'd gotten all that he'd come to get. "Just, know that I'm going to be having your case reviewed. And I'm definitely going to get that theft charge expunged after proving that was a lie, maybe even call child services on your dear old sister-in-law."
She didn't say anything in response, Ginny seemed to be still trying to size him up and find out what angle he was playing.
"I'm a good guy," he told her.
"I kind of got that impression the night we met, I chose not to believe it. But I thought you were supposed to be a shite detective too, yet," she waved her hand at all the work he'd done, "this is proof otherwise."
He clenched his jaw. "Those buildings were all targets," he stood firm on that. "And one day or another, Tom Riddle is going to try and blow them up, just to attempt and prove a point. Those financial institutions are the reason that his family money is gone and his family status lost. He'll be back in the country one day, and I guarantee he'll find a whole new slew of people who also lost everything and have nothing else to lose. He's a terrorist and refuses to see that his father's and grandfathers poor life choices are the reason he's got nothing left."
Ginny reached across the table and put her hand on his. "For the sake of all those people that work in those buildings, I hope their empty when you're proven right."
A shock ran through him then, a wave of warmth and vindication. "You believe me?"
"You believed me," she pointed out. "Why shouldn't I return the favor?"
He left the Weasley Farm that day feeling better than he had in a long time.
It took more than two months of back and forth involving tons of paperwork and research, but he wound up getting Ginevra Weasley's case expunged from records. Penelope Hodgkins (nee Clearwater) was charged with filing false reports and lying to the court. The terms of the custody arrangement between she and her husband was put in review.
Ginny's wasn't the only case he'd done his research on either, there were twenty people on his list that had their paroles extended due to Carrow and Yaxley, and Harry had managed to free them of their judicial shackles as well.
It felt good getting justice for them all.
In fact, it felt so good that he decided that after several months of it, it was time to go back to school. He didn't want to be an investigator or parole officer anymore, he wanted to be a solicitor. There was too much corruption going on in the judicial system and he'd only seen a small piece of it in the countryside.
He was accepted into the University of Law in Birmingham, close to Bath where his family lived, and continued to work as a Parole Officer until his school year started.
His parents were supportive of the change, they helped him find a flat relatively close to the campus and get moved in. He might wind up being the oldest person in his classes, but at least he'd have the most experience.
His first day in his first lecture he got there early and picked a seat near the middle and watched as all the young adults filed into the lecture hall around him, amazed by the age differences between he and them. The professor came in and started into the bullet points of what they would cover and Harry heard a few people arriving late and taking up in seats behind him.
When the lecture finished, he packed up his things and stuffed them into his attaché, and felt someone slip into the seat beside him. He turned to them and was shocked to see Ginny sitting there.
"Think we're going to go over what to do if we shag one of our clients?" she asked cheekily.
He couldn't form a thought process for a minute, then managed to find his words. "Confirm that they have evidence to support that claim, probably."
She held up her phone and scrolled through it casually. "I don't seem to have anything like that."
"You deleted it?" They'd met up a few more times after he started working at freeing her from parole, but he'd never brought it up.
"I did. As did my friend. Now all I've got is the memory. Memory is pretty unreliable though, can't exactly take people's words on things, can we?"
"Depends on the person," he said, a smile tugging to his face.
"I suppose it does. You certainly seem to be a man of your word."
He grinned, "and you certainly seem to be someone with a lot of nerve."
She smiled back at him. "Anything is possible if you've got enough nerve."
"Like what?"
She leaned over and gave him a kiss. "That was to say thank you, because I hadn't gotten a chance to until now."
She was cupping his cheek still, and he didn't find he minded her doing so in the least. "Are you going to this school? Or are you just tracking me down so you'll always know where I live."
"I'm tempted to say 'two things can be true', but then I'll just sound like a stalker," she grinned. "I had no idea you'd be here. I spent most of the lecture trying to figure out if my mind was playing tricks on me. Yet, here you are. And here I am. And we'll likely have a lot of classes together."
"Are you asking me to be your study buddy? Because you've already messed with my head enough that I question anyone's intentions, so I don't know that I trust you to do your fair share of the work."
"I would think that from our last nighttime encounter you would have realized that I fully participate."
"Oh, so you're not just asking to be study buddies."
"How about we go somewhere more private and talk it out?"
"I don't know, witnesses sound like a good idea."
"Is that you saying you don't fancy a shag, or is that a kink of yours?"
"Well, you did record our last session for 'your viewing pleasure'."
She hummed and her face took on a whole different kind of expression then. "Yeah, I pleasurefully viewed that a few times."
He knew he should probably not be tempted at all by her, but it had been an excellent night they'd spent together, and he did understand why she'd done what she'd done.
And, fuck, if he didn't still think about her occasionally when he wanked.
"I've a flat four blocks away from here," he stated.
"Sounds well better than my dorm room."
He sat there, staring at her for another few moments, wondering if they were really going to do this. There was another lecture he had on his schedule for three hours from now. Initially he was going to wander the campus, talk to some of the older students and get their impressions on the professors. But, if sex was on the table, and with her… well, he didn't really have a choice, did he?
()()()
Ginny let out a high-pitched squeal of excitement that jolted him out of his sleep.
"What's going on?!"
"Ron and Hermione had a baby boy last night! Awe, poor thing, they're naming him Hugo. That's a terrible name."
She put her phone in his face and he saw the smiling parents and their alien looking newborn.
"What's the Weasley tally now? Five to two in favor of females?" he asked and sat up, fluffing up his pillow so he could sit comfortably against the headboard.
"Seven to two, actually for that generation. Still, I'm just happy that there's another baby in the family that is all tiny and healthy and adorable."
"Mhmm, please try to reign in that baby madness you've got when my parents come for dinner," he called after her as she moved into the bathroom.
They were both in their third year of law school now and he'd asked her to give up her dorm room lifestyle for him this year and move in with him. It had been a complicated relationship they'd had through their first year, neither of them seemed to know what they were supposed to be to each other; were they just messing around, relieving stress, were the 'dating'? Second year he'd admitted to himself and to her that he was in love with her and it was time that they told their families.
Ginny's parents took a bit to adjust to the fact that her former parole officer was her boyfriend, his were just happy that he was in a committed enough relationship to merit bringing her home.
Now, Harry had attended several Weasley family events and Ginny's parents insist that he call them mum and dad.
"I'm excited that I've got a new nephew, that's not 'baby madness'," she told him, coming into the room with a toothbrush in one hand and a pair of high heels in the other. She was acting as lead on a mock trial today and was determined to look the part.
"Yes, well, my mum will hear it and immediately start questioning when we're planning on giving her grandchildren."
Ginny got her shoes on and stood there staring at him. "Are we planning on giving her grandchildren? We've only just moved in together."
"Yes, but we've been together for a while, so, to her," he stopped talking then when he finally realized that they were about to have this conversation. The one that led to them making proper future plans.
"You know, I do eventually want children," she said carefully.
"So do I," he responded slowly.
"I would prefer to be married at least by then though," she followed up.
His eyes betrayed him then and slid over to his sock drawer, which she caught onto.
"You didn't," she gasped.
"I… well, I mean, I've kind of known we were going to wind up there eventually," he said, as though he was trying to excuse his extravagant purchase of the ring he'd bought for her. "I just didn't know when. I mean, we've got another year of school. Now is hardly the time to get married and knock you up right away."
"So… you've got a plan for us then?"
Her confusion was completely justified, because they hadn't talked about this at all.
"Yes…"
"And do you mind cluing me in?!"
"Well, I mean, if we get married this summer, then we'll have a year until graduation to get settled into married life and find jobs, then if a baby comes in the year after that then we'll have leave saved up."
"Hold up!" she held out her hand to stop him. "Is this you proposing? Because if it is, you really suck at it."
"Okay then," he got out of bed and went to his sock drawer, pulled out the ring and got down on one knee in front of her. "Ginny Weasley, will you marry me?"
A loud laugh escaped her lips, which she stopped by clapping a hand over her mouth.
"Is that a yes?" he asked, desperate now for an answer.
"Yes," she whispered.
"Yes?"
"Yes!" she grinned and took the ring out of the box and stuck it on her finger as he stood up to kiss her. "And I am absolutely telling your mum that you proposed naked!"
He looked down at himself and realized she was right.
()()()
It was sixteen years later that Harry was finally proven right about Tom Riddle and his attacks on the three financial buildings in London that he was going to bomb. Luckily, the timing on them was not done correctly and after the first one blew, the bomb squad was able to diffuse the other two, catching Riddle and fifty six of his accomplices through a network of CI's.
There were 162 casualties from the one bombing.
Harry and Ginny Potter were present at Tom Riddles trial; Ginny was the prosecution, Harry was there to give testimony and watch as his wife made quick work of getting the defendant life in prison with no chance of parole.
()()()
AN- Happy Birthday Deadwoodpecker.
I figured blackmail was 'taboo' enough for you.