AN: The story is written for the Secret Santa Writing Gift Exchange of The Ginny Lovers discord community following the wish 'Forbidden Love, NC17'. According to the wish, there is a brief more explicit scene in the story. So, don't read it if you don't like this.
Friday, the week before Christmas
The familiar jolt of a Portkey landing hit Harry with a thud as the magical transport system spat him and Neville out into the Ministry of Magic's international arrivals hall. After their luggage had been checked and their wands weighed, they buttoned their coats and pulled their scarves tight before stepping out into the cold, damp London evening. The biting chill felt all the harsher after the crisp but sunny weather in Paris. The bustling hum of the city surrounded them as Harry took a deep breath, still slightly disoriented from the tiresome journey. It felt good to be back in England after three long months.
"Home sweet home," Neville said, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "Finally. I can't believe we made it out of Paris before Christmas."
Harry ran a hand through his messy hair and grinned. "Yeah. I'm just glad we're back. It feels like it's been ages."
He adjusted his scarf and pulled his cloak closer, savouring the thought of returning to normality after weeks immersed in the opulence of Paris's magical elite. The glamour had its appeal initially, but Harry had quickly tired of the pomp and the obsession with status. Worse, the Greengrasses, owners of Nimbus Aeromagica and his family's long-time rivals, had been omnipresent, adding an edge of tension to every event. Still, the trip hadn't been for nothing—they'd successfully launched a new Firebolt branch in Paris, fulfilling a dream Harry's father had harboured but hadn't lived to see realised.
The thought of what he planned to do now that he was back home made Harry's heart pound faster. "Time for some changes, I think," he said, his voice firm. "Christmas and the New Year feel like the right time to start."
Neville raised an eyebrow. "Should I be worried?"
Harry chuckled. "Not at all. I think it'll be a good thing. Spending those weeks in Paris made me realise I'm ready for it."
"Ready for what?" Neville asked curiously. "You've been keeping quiet about this."
"I need to talk to someone first," Harry replied cautiously, before adding with a small smile, "But you'll be the first to know if it turns out the way I hope."
Neville studied him for a moment. "If I didn't know better, I'd say this was about a woman. But you'd have mentioned it by now, wouldn't you?" His eyes widened in realisation. "That's it. That's why you haven't talked about women in ages. You're in love! Aren't you?"
"Wait and see," Harry said evasively. "Come on, let's go home."
Neville smirked. "I'd have thought a pint at the pub would be the proper way to return. You're slipping, James."
Harry chuckled softly at the familiar joke. Neville had been his closest friend for years. They'd met at a private boarding school when they were eleven, and Neville, an orphan raised by his formidable grandmother, often spent holidays with the Potters. After Harry's parents passed away two years ago, his godfather had persuaded him and Neville to take over the Firebolt Company's UK branch despite their youth. At only twenty, they'd taken on their roles with ease— albeit not in the way anyone had expected.
Harry, disinterested in endless meetings, had swapped roles with Neville during their training. Harry loved flying, and broomstick research involved plenty of flying, which suited him perfectly. Neville, on the other hand, preferred to stay firmly on the ground, so the arrangement worked well for both of them. Now, operating under the alias James Evans, Harry led the Firebolt's research division while Neville assumed the public-facing role of Harry Potter, CEO. The switch had gone unnoticed outside Firebolt's leadership, aided by the Potters' long-standing efforts to keep their son out of the public eye.
A grin tugged at Harry's lips, but his thoughts strayed to Ginny. "The pub can wait. I promised to meet Ginny tonight."
Neville raised a brow. "Ginny Weasley?"
Harry's smile faltered for a moment, his thoughts immediately drifting to the fiery redhead. "Yes, Ginny Weasley. You've met her a few times, remember?"
"I know who she is," Neville said, rolling his eyes. "But you never mentioned that there's something going on between you two." Then his expression brightened. "It is her, isn't it? What happens if Greengrass finds out?"
Harry's jaw tightened. He hated how much power that family held over them. Ginny, head of research at Nimbus Aeromagica, had to keep her association with anyone from Firebolt a secret—or risk her job. Their rivalry ran deep, and Cuthbert Greengrass, the Nimbus owner, had forbidden his employees from fraternising with anyone connected to their competition. That was why Harry and Ginny had kept their relationship private, though the secrecy weighed on him.
"They won't," Harry muttered. "We've been careful."
Neville didn't press any further, though Harry could tell his friend was still sceptical. "Alright. One beer, then. But I'm holding you to it, James."
Harry hesitated, then nodded. "One beer. But after that, I need to see Ginny."
Neville's smirk returned. "Looks like you've got it bad."
"I had a lot of time to think in Paris," Harry said, running a hand through his hair.
"Too much time, apparently," Neville smirked.
Harry chuckled, though his expression turned serious. "I need to tell her the truth, Nev. Who I really am."
Neville's eyebrows shot up. "You haven't already?"
Harry shook his head. "At first, I thought it wasn't important," he admitted, running his hand through his hair. "We went on a few dates, everything felt perfect…but then, somehow, it never seemed the right moment to bring it up. But now... Ginny is incredibly important to me. I can't hide it anymore. I need to tell her."
**HG**
Glancing at the clock on her office wall, Ginny stifled a groan. It was ten minutes to five—well past the time she'd hoped to leave—but the report in front of her wasn't going to finish itself. Mr Greengrass had made it clear: this needed to be on his desk tonight. Normally, she didn't mind staying late, but tonight wasn't a typical evening.
James was coming home.
She'd been counting down the days. If someone had told her a year ago that a man could turn her heart to mush and make her feel light-headed with a single grin, not to mention her panties damp, she would have laughed. But meeting James Evans at the Spring Broom Fair had changed everything. Just the thought of seeing him again made her pulse quicken, though she kept such feelings locked away at work. Greengrass didn't need more reasons to scrutinise her. His animosity towards the Potters was practically a company doctrine, and while Ginny understood that Nimbus and Firebolt were rivals on the broom market, the ban on associating with Firebolt employees felt archaic.
Still, the long weeks apart from James had brought things into focus. She loved her job—truly—but she loved James more. Enough to risk walking away from Nimbus if it ever came to that.
Pushing the thought aside, Ginny donned her cloak, gathered her bag and the report, and made her way to the executive floor. Being a Friday, Miss Greenstem, Mr Greengrass's efficient yet quirky secretary, had already left for the weekend. Ginny placed the folder squarely on her desk, making sure her boss would find it. She was about to leave when muffled voices from the adjoining office caught her attention, making her stop in her tracks.
"You can't be serious, Dad?" an indignant voice Ginny immediately attributed to Daphne Greengrass, carried through the ajar door.
Ginny froze.
"Daphne, this is necessary," Mr Greengrass replied, his tone calm but resolute. "Potter's Firebolt expansion in France is a direct threat. If we don't act now, Nimbus will lose its foothold in the market entirely."
Ginny's brow furrowed. Firebolt's French expansion had been all over industry news—James had mentioned it more than once—but what could Greengrass mean by "act"?
"And you think marrying me off to Potter is the answer?" Daphne retorted, her voice dripping with disbelief. "What is this, the Middle Ages?"
Ginny's mouth fell.
"Don't be dramatic," Greengrass said curtly. "This is business. Your sister's marriage to the Malfoys didn't secure the alliances we'd hoped for. Lucius's son is a waste of space, more interested in spending money than making it."
Daphne let out a scoff. "And you think Potter is different?"
Ginny raised an eyebrow, a spark of curiosity flickering to life. Daphne's response was clear enough, but there was something in her tone—a hesitation, perhaps—that made Ginny wonder if she wasn't entirely opposed to the idea, no matter how much she protested.
"Potter has a proven track record," Greengrass shot back. "The expansion in France was his initiative. A connection to the Potters could solidify Nimbus's position for decades."
"Or it could pave the way for him to take over Nimbus completely," Daphne shot back.
"It would be your job to prevent that," Greengrass replied firmly. "We prepared you and your sister for this. You know how to deal with men." His tone softened as he added, almost wistfully, "I always hoped for a son to take over the company, so you and your sister could marry someone you love. But circumstances being what they are... You've met Potter at enough business functions. Would marrying him really be so awful?"
Daphne sighed. "We've spoken at those Ministry events, Father. He's always polite, though a bit reserved. I'm not sure he's quite what you think he is." Her voice took on a teasing edge. "If it weren't for your no-fraternising-with-the-enemy rule, I might have considered an affair with him. He's easy on the eyes and seems to be nice."
"Compatibility isn't the priority," Greengrass replied bluntly, but added after a moment, "Polite and reserved, you say? Excellent. That means he's considering the possibility, even if he won't admit it outright."
"You're reading too much into it", Daphne dismissed his remark.
"Didn't he fetch you a drink at the Quidditch Championship Gala?" Greengrass mused. "I distinctly recall him lingering a bit too long in your company, Daphne. That sort of attentiveness doesn't happen without reason."
"Oh, dad", Daphne groaned. "As I said, you're reading too much into it. He's nice and courteous to everyone."
"Regardless," her father said, his tone brisk, "our lawyers have already filed the offer. It'll be delivered to Potter tomorrow morning."
Ginny straightened, her mind racing. A marriage alliance with Harry Potter? It sounded absurd. Harry was James's boss, wasn't he? She never met the man, but James's occasional remarks about work hadn't painted him as someone who'd entertain such schemes.
Still, Greengrass was clearly serious about this. And if he was willing to suggest something so old-fashioned to secure their position, what else might he be plotting? Ginny shook her head. James might want to know what his boss was up against. Or maybe not—he'd probably just roll his eyes and dismiss it as typical corporate drama.
Either way, she'd tell James tonight. Something about Greengrass's tone, so calculating and ruthless, left her uneasy.
Deeply worried, Ginny hurried out of the building. By the time she reached her flat, her thoughts were still spinning. She hung up her cloak, and was just about to head to the loo when the Floo flared to life.
"Ginny, are you home?" James' familiar voice, warm and familiar, instantly brought a smile to her face.
"Here I am!" she called, kneeling in front of the fireplace. James's face appeared, his lopsided grin as charming as ever. "It's about time you got back," she teased. "Was Paris not exciting enough for you?"
"Let's just say the baguettes were brilliant; the rest, not so much." He chuckled. "Are you free tonight? We could grab food from that Indian place around the corner."
"Your place, then," Ginny replied, her grin widening. "Mum's been threatening to drop by unannounced, and I'd rather avoid the interrogation if she meets you."
"Fine by me," James said. "You'll be here in—what? Half an hour?"
"At least," she said, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face. "I smell like work."
"You smell incredible, no matter what," James said with a wink.
"Liar," she shot back, laughing. "Your nose must be broken. You only like the floral shampoo my Mum makes for me."
"Oh, I do love that shampoo," he admitted, his voice dipping. "But there's another scent that drives me mad."
"Care to elaborate?"
"I'd rather show you," he said, his grin turning wicked.
She laughed, feeling her cheeks warming. "You're impossible."
"And you're irresistible," he countered smoothly. "Now hurry up. I've got big plans for dessert."
"You're obsessed," Ginny teased, arching a brow. "You want me for pudding, don't you?"
"Absolutely," he shot back. "Sweetest thing on the menu. Though I wouldn't say no to an appetizer, either."
Shaking her head, Ginny rolled her eyes fondly. "You can even have me as the main course if I get something to eat in between. I'm starving. See you soon, James."
As his face disappeared from the flames, Ginny felt her earlier tension melt away. Greengrass's schemes could wait. Tonight, she had far more important things to think about—and someone very special to see.
After her shower, Ginny stood in front of the mirror, carefully applying a touch of lipstick and a subtle stroke of eyeliner—not too much. James preferred it subtle, or 'he liked her as she was' as he put it. A smile tugged at her lips as she thought back to their early days. James had been so confident and focused when it came to broom development, but when it came to asking her out, he'd been adorably awkward. She felt butterflies stir in her stomach. Merlin, she'd missed him. She'd known she liked him before he left for Paris, but during the months of his absence, she had to admit to herself—she had fallen hard. Shaking herself from her thoughts, she focused back on getting ready. She couldn't wait to see him again.
Not long afterwards, Ginny stepped out of the fireplace into James's flat. The mouth-watering aroma of a curry greeted her, and she followed it into the kitchen, where several takeaway boxes sat neatly on the counter, but there was no sign of James.
"James?" she called, heading back towards the living room.
The bathroom door creaked open, and James appeared, wrapped in a bath towel, his hair still damp.
"Hi, you're early," he said with a grin. "Thought I'd grab a quick shower so I didn't smell like work."
Ginny smirked, stepping closer. "Good idea." Rising onto her toes, she kissed him firmly. The kiss deepened for a moment before she broke away, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Without a word, she nudged him back towards the sofa, her lips trailing soft kisses along his jawline.
She stopped just long enough to gently nip his earlobe. "I'm starving," she whispered. "I think I'll have my starter now."
James's eyes widened, but before he could respond, Ginny tugged at his towel and shoved him, sending him sprawling onto the sofa.
The towel slipped open, and Ginny's gaze landed on the part of Harry she'd probably missed the most. 'Well, hello,' she thought, biting back a mischievous grin. His soft intake of breath as her eyes lingered on him sent a wave of satisfaction through her. Not that she hadn't missed the rest of him, of course, but after months of lonely nights...
"Oh, Gin," Harry murmured, his voice tinged with playful desperation. "You're going to be the death of me. We've got to slow down, or...I'll lose it right now." He grinned, cheeks slightly flushed. "After weeks of neglect, I may need some warming up."
Ginny giggled, her lips brushing his. "So you're saying you've been a saint all the time?" she teased, half curious, half amused.
"Of course I have," Harry replied, mock-indignant. "What do you take me for?"
"Hmm." Ginny sat up, mischief dancing in her eyes as she tugged her shirt over her head, revealing a dark blue bra. "Then you deserve a reward."
Harry's gaze flickered between surprise and delight as she knelt on the sofa, smirking. "Not even with your own hand?" she teased, her tone dripping with challenge.
"That doesn't count," Harry protested, his ears reddening, though he grinned nonetheless.
Ginny's laughter bubbled up. "Good. Then I didn't cheat on you either." She leaned forward, placing a kiss against his tip, light and teasing, elicited a soft moan from him.
Quickly, she discarded the rest of her clothes and leaned over him, threading her fingers through his damp, unruly hair. Her lips found his again, this time hungrier, as she settled over him. She nipped at his lower lip, drawing a low moan from Harry. Pleased, she deepened the kiss, her tongue tracing his lips before slipping into his mouth, savouring the arousing feeling of this intimate touch. Slowly, her hand drifted down to his erection, her touch warm and deliberate. Stroking him gently, Ginny teased his lower lip with her teeth, drawing another soft moan from him. A shiver ran through her, causing a tingling deep in her belly that nearly killed her.
"Look at me," she breathed, leaning back slightly to meet his gaze. "I want to see you come." Tightening her grip, her eyes fixed on his as his breathing quickened and a shiver ran through his body. Her eyes never leaving his, she stroked him a harder, her other hand massaging his balls gently but firmly. Her breathing grew heavier, and her heart pounded loudly as she watched, pleased, his eyes widen and his gaze falter.
"Ginny," he moaned, his voice cracking with pleasure. "That's...that's...oh, Gin!"
As his muscles began to tremble, Ginny quickly bent down, just in time to catch a gush of hot, salty liquid with her mouth. Hurriedly, she swallowed what she could hold, ran her finger over her lips to capture the rest before she put him back into her mouth to suck, gently at first, soon more forcefully, delighted when his moans and twitches slowly subside, and he relaxed. A quick glance proved that she'd licked everything clean. Satisfied, she leaned down and kissed the tip of his cockhead. "Want to try my dessert?" she asked cheekily, capturing his lips again before he could answer.
"Not bad," Harry murmured between kisses, amusement dancing in his voice. "But I'm pretty sure yours tastes even better - and you smell so arousing down there."
"Oh, that's what you meant," Ginny laughed. "Help yourself to your starter then. I won't hold you back."
Pulling her up beside him, he sought her lips as his hand slowly moved down her side. His fingers ran through her bushy, flaming red triangle, and his middle finger found its way between her wet, slick folds and with every move.
"I should have shaved," Ginny moaned absently.
"I love your bush," Harry breathed, slipping a second fingers inside her.
"James, oh," Ginny moaned. "Yeah. I need more."
As he slipped a third finger inside her and his hand increased the pressure on her clit, she deepened the kiss and gave in, surrendering to the play of their tongues and his fingers. One shiver down her spine followed another, and when finally, when her whole body trembled in ecstasy, Harry murmured against her lips, "Time for my appetizer."
Ginny let out a shaky breath as he slipped from her arms, but a broad smile spread across her face as he slid down her. He blew gently through her bushy, red hair, inhaling her scent with a pleased moan. Opening her legs wider, he let his tongue ran over her folds, tenderly at first, then more forcefully.
"James," she called out of breath. Holding his head in place with both hands, she moaned loudly as his mouth touched her clit. She cried out, her body shaking harder the more Harry sucked on her. With a loud, "James. Oh, James," she finally collapsed.
"Merlin," she panted, a contented smile on her lips. "You've actually gotten better. Sure you haven't been practicing in secret?"
Harry grinned lazily as he snuggled up next to her, his fingers still gently playing with her folds. "You're just so hot I can't keep my hands off you."
Ginny hummed in amusement, shifting to snuggle closer. "As you can't keep your hands out of me, do you want the main course right away?" she teased, her voice hoarse, already feeling horny again from the play of his fingers.
"I wouldn't complain," Harry admitted with a playful smile.
"Well then," Ginny said with a mischievous glint, straddling him as he lay back.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked cautiously but clearly interested.
Ginny leaned forward, relishing the intimate touch of her breasts against Harry's bare chest. Reaching between her legs, she grabbed Harry, smirking at his very obvious interest, before letting him slowly slip inside her.
"Feels so good," she cooed as Harry slowly set the rhythm. "Yeah, keep it slow. I want to enjoy it as long as possible."
Harry snorted lightly, hands settling on her hips.
"What?" Ginny murmured between kisses.
"I doubt you're that patient," Harry chuckled, a little out of breath, squeezing Ginny's bum. "Come on, love. Move your sweet arse."
"Is that a dare?" Ginny giggled, leaning down so their foreheads touched. "Feels so good," she breathed heavily, increasing the rhythm as her arse bounced up and down.
"Oh, Gin," Harry gasped, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight.
"Better?" she panted, her body pressing flush against his, her fingers pressing into his skin.
"I'm almost there," Harry moaned. "Oh, you're getting so tight."
The feeling of herself twitching around his cock, almost sucking him in, slowly pushed her over the edge. "Oh, that's...incredible. Thrust harder, James. I'm...oh, James."
Her arms clung tightly to his neck, her fingers leaving faint trails down his back. Ginny's body quivered, and she collapsed against Harry, utterly spent.
"James... you broke me," she murmured breathlessly. "The curry can wait. Let's get some rest first."
Saturday, the week before Christmas
When Harry woke up, sunlight was spilling through the curtains. It had to be well past nine. Panic flared briefly before he remembered—it was Saturday, and he'd planned to sleep in with Ginny.
Ginny.
He smiled, fully aware of her now. She was nestled against him, her head on his shoulder and her arm draped comfortably across his chest. At his faint stirring, she shifted, her eyes fluttering open. For a moment, she looked disoriented, but then her lips curved into a warm smile.
"Good morning, James," she murmured, stretching and letting out a contented yawn.
Harry's chest tightened at the sound of the name. James. He had to tell her. She deserved the truth.
"What's wrong, love?" Ginny asked, her tone light but her eyes searching his face. "You look far too serious so early in the morning."
"Oh, it's nothing." Harry stroked her cheek, the lie catching in his throat. "Well, not nothing... but it can wait until breakfast." He smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Or, are you still full from the curry we had last night?"
Ginny arched an eyebrow, her lips twitching with a hint of amusement. "I'm a Weasley. I'm always hungry. But it's not that urgent."
Harry leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose. "Then, let's cuddle for a bit."
"Just cuddle?" Ginny teased, her voice laced with mock incredulity. "That's fine with me. I'm a little sore, since we had a lot of catching up to do." Her wicked grin spread as her hand trailed down his stomach. "But if you're not sore...well, my hand isn't, either."
"No way," Harry laughed, catching her hand and bringing it back to his chest. "I mean it. I just want to hold you for a while." He nuzzled his nose into her hair, breathing in her scent. "I've missed this. Being close to you, holding you... thinking of you got me through some very lonely nights in Paris."
Ginny's expression softened, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "And?"
"Even before I went to Paris, I knew you were special. But being away made me realise... I love you, Ginny. I'm in love with you."
Her grin widened. "Well, it's about time you caught up. I've loved you for ages." She kissed his cheek. "Men are always a little slower on the uptake." She tilted her head, studying him. "Was that what you were going to tell me?"
"Not exactly," Harry admitted, his stomach knotting. "It's something else, and I'm not sure how you'll take it."
Ginny frowned slightly but slid out from under the duvet with a playful stretch. "Then let's get it over with. But first, I need to freshen up." She gave him a cheeky wave as she headed for the bathroom.
Harry watched her go, but before the curve of her back disappeared through the doorway, she turned briefly. "Oh, by the way. I have some interesting news for you, too."
Harry ran a hand through his hair, letting out a heavy breath. This wasn't going to be easy. He dragged himself out of bed, throwing on a T-shirt and sweatpants before heading to the kitchen to make breakfast.
Some twenty minutes later, Ginny emerged from the bathroom wearing one of his oversized Led Zeppelin T-shirts, the hem grazing her knees. Harry had already set the table with tea, toast, scrambled eggs, and baked beans. As she sat down, he slid a plate toward her with a smile.
"You spoil me," she teased, reaching for a slice of toast. "So, what was it you wanted to tell me?"
Harry poured himself a cup of tea, feigning nonchalance. "Actually, you said you had something to tell me first."
Ginny smirked over the rim of her mug. "Oh, it's not really about you—more about your boss."
Harry frowned, puzzled. "My boss?"
"Yeah," she said, taking a sip of tea. "Yesterday, I overheard a conversation between my boss... you know Greengrass? ...and his daughter Daphne. He's planning to propose a marriage contract between her and Potter."
Harry froze mid-sip, almost choking on his tea. He coughed, his eyes watering as the words sank in.
Before he could respond, a familiar voice called from the living room. "Harry? You in? It's Neville. Can I come through?"
"Neville?" Harry leapt up, his mind racing.
Ginny glanced down at herself, her expression shifting from amused to mildly alarmed. "I should grab my jeans..." She hesitated before groaning softly. "They're in the living room."
Harry shot to his feet and hurried to the living room. "One moment, Neville." He grabbed Ginny's jeans from the floor and handed them to her before hurrying back to the living room.
"Come through, Neville!" he called, trying to sound casual. "Want some tea or breakfast?"
Neville entered, his expression grim. "Not sure breakfast will sit well after this, Harry," he muttered before halting awkwardly at the sight of Ginny. "Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt."
Ginny, unfazed, slid into her chair, pulling on her jeans. "You're not interrupting," she said breezily, then shot Harry a pointed glance. "James, why does your boss call you Harry?"
Neville's gaze sharpened, his brow furrowed. "You haven't told her yet?"
Harry felt his stomach drop. Grimacing, he ran a hand through his hair before scratching the back of his neck helplessly. He took a steadying breath. "I was just about to."
"You haven't told me what?" Ginny asked, her voice edged with suspicion.
Harry met her gaze with a pained smile. "I told you I had something to share."
"And what exactly would that be?" Ginny raised an eyebrow, folding her arms.
"I'm Harry Potter," Harry said, his voice steady but his eyes pleading. He hoped she'd believe him—and, more importantly, forgive him.
"Are you kidding me?" Ginny's expression was incredulous.
"Neville is Neville Longbottom, a childhood friend. We went to boarding school together," Harry explained, cautiously.
"You didn't go to Hogwarts. I'd know if you had," Ginny said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.
"We didn't," Harry corrected her. "We went to a private school. When my parents died in an accident, my godfather, Sirius Black, suggested that we take over Firebolt UK once we'd finished our education."
"I know the story," Ginny said, nodding towards Neville. "But in the version I've heard, your friend here is Harry Potter."
Harry sighed, shaking his head slightly. "It's a bit more complicated than that. I've never liked all the boring business meetings. I prefer being on a broom, testing the equipment and making it better. Neville, on the other hand, isn't comfortable on a broom. So we... switched roles. To avoid awkward questions, Neville took the public role as Harry Potter, and I stayed in the background as James Evans. James was my dad's name, and Evans was my mum's maiden name. It felt adventurous at the time. Back then, we liked the idea."
Ginny's lips trembled as understanding dawned. "And now that Greengrass wants to marry off his daughter, the fraud comes to light." Tears welled in her eyes as she stood abruptly, gathering her things. "So the marriage contract is about you—not Neville."
"Ginny, wait—" Harry's voice cracked as panic set in. "Let me explain!"
"What is there to explain, James—" Her voice faltered as she shot him a tearful glare. "Oh, sorry—Harry."
"Harry really did want to tell you," Neville interjected awkwardly. "I thought he'd already had last night because it was important to him." He glanced apologetically at Harry. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make things worse. I'll just... leave you two to it. You clearly need to talk without me in the way."
When Neville disappeared through the Floo, Harry went to find Ginny. She was in the bathroom, fully dressed in her clothes from the day before, drying her tear-stained eyes.
"Gin, please stay. Let's talk," Harry pleaded. "I really wanted to tell you who I really am."
Ginny turned to face him, her eyes wary. "Why now?" she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion.
Harry sighed, leaning against the doorframe. "When we first met, I didn't see a reason to bring it up. Later, when things got serious… I just didn't want to ruin what we had."
Ginny stared at him, obviously waiting for him to continue.
"And in Paris—I realized I had to tell you," Harry said carefully. "I really wanted to tell you last night...but then...It was so good to see you again."
"I shagged you senseless and you forgot to tell me." A small smile crossed Ginny's face. Obviously she remembered last night, too. She bit her lower lip, her hands still trembling, as she explained quietly, "It doesn't matter to me whether you're James or Harry, the head of research or the boss of the company." She met his eyes. "What I really need to know is what happens now, Harry? What about Daphne? Are you going to marry her if the offer is… worth it?" Her voice wavered slightly on the last words.
Harry blinked, startled. "What? Of course not! Why would you even think that? I would never…" He frowned, then his expression cleared. "Wait a minute."
Before Ginny could reply, Harry dashed into the bedroom. She followed him, standing in the doorway as he rummaged through a drawer. Finally, he pulled out a small, dark blue box and turned back to her.
"I bought this in Paris," he began, his voice soft. Opening the box, he revealed a simple ring with an emerald-green stone. Dropping to his knee, he looked up at her, his eyes earnest and hopeful.
"Ginny," he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion, "I was going to ask you at Christmas, but now feels like the right moment. Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"
Harry held his breath, hoping she would say yes.
Ginny stared at him, her mouth slightly open. Tears welled in her eyes, her hands trembling.
"Please, Gin," Harry whispered, his smile tentative. "Say yes."
A choked laugh escaped her as she flew into his arms, murmuring, "Yes, James—no, Harry—oh, damn it, yes!" She kissed him fiercely, her arms wrapped around his neck. Harry returned the kiss, holding her as if afraid to let go.
When they finally pulled apart, Ginny was breathless, her eyes shining with joy. Then, a thought struck her, and her smile faltered.
"What do we do about Greengrass?" she asked, her brow furrowed.
Harry grinned, sliding the ring onto her finger. "We'll tell him I'm engaged. I have no idea how he ever thought I'd marry his daughter."
Ginny snorted, shaking her head. "James...ugh, Harry." She laughed briefly. "I really need to remember my fiancé's name."
"I don't care which name you use," Harry teased, his eyes sparkling, "as long as you're screaming it in bed. James is my middle name, after all."
She gave him a playful shove, her cheeks flushing. "You're impossible," she muttered, though her lips twitched into a smile. Her expression turned thoughtful. "Do you think Greengrass will back off, or…?"
Harry shrugged. "He'll have to. It's not the first time trying this stunt. Cuthbert Greengrass was furious when my dad didn't marry his sister, but he got over it—sort of—that my father chose a Muggle-born over his pure-blood sister."
Ginny tilted her head. "Is that why he doesn't like you? Why he's always trying to undermine Firebolt?"
"Probably," Harry admitted. "The marriage contract was never made public at that time. Only the Potters and Greengrasses knew about it."
"And now I know too," said Ginny.
"Seems you're almost a Potter already," Harry replied with a smirk.
Her smile faded. "I'll probably have to find a new job soon. We can't keep this under wraps forever."
"That's fine with me," Harry said gently. "I only agreed to keep things quiet so you wouldn't face any issues at work."
Ginny tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Maybe I'll look for a position as a technical director for a Quidditch club. I could finally put my ideas to proper use."
"Neville has great connections with team managers," Harry said, grinning. "But Greengrass might be furious that I've stolen his research director."
Ginny laughed, her eyes sparkling again. "Well, he'll just have to live with it. I'm spoken for now." She gave Harry a thoughtful look.
"What's on your mind?" asked Harry, curious.
"I think we can't avoid it any longer," Ginny said with a small smile.
"Avoid what?" Harry frowned.
"When my parents see this ring on my finger, they'll want to meet you - especially Mum," Ginny said, her amusement evident.
Harry groaned. "Oh, great. And all your many brothers, too, I suppose."
Ginny giggled. "With a bit of luck, not all of them will be there. Bill's spending Christmas in France with his wife's family. Charlie can only make it for New Year's Eve—something about a dragon emergency. And Ron might be off visiting his in-laws. Percy and the twins will definitely be there."
"Just enough Weasleys to overwhelm me, then," Harry muttered, though a playful grin tugged at his lips.
Ginny laughed softly, her hand brushing his. "You'll be fine. I'll protect you."
"Then I have nothing to fear," he said, chuckling and winked at her. "My godfather, Sirius, is coming over from across the pond for Christmas. He'll definitely want to meet you. Neville's coming too. How about the day before Christmas Eve? I could book a table in a nice restaurant, or would you prefer a pub?"
Ginny nodded. "That's next Wednesday, isn't it? That works for me. I'm only working until Tuesday and then I've got the rest of the year off." She gave him a warm smile. "And I'd prefer a pub, it's not so formal."
"Alright", Harry chuckled. "A pub it is, then."
Wednesday, the day before Christmas Eve
Harry glanced at his watch. Time to pick up Ginny. He could hardly wait to see her. Although they'd spent the whole weekend together—mostly in his bed—he hadn't seen her since Monday morning. Sirius had arrived that afternoon, and the last days had been a whirlwind of catching up and planning. To dodge his godfather's inevitable teasing and barrage of questions, Harry had only casually mentioned that he was bringing someone along tonight. Sirius's predictable curiosity had been met with a vague shrug and the promise that he'd see for himself.
Stepping through the Floo into Ginny's flat, Harry found her just slipping on her coat. She looked up and smiled, greeting him with a kiss.
"How was it at your parents'?" asked Harry.
"Everything went well," Ginny replied. "They were a bit disappointed that I wasn't coming on Christmas Day, but I managed to calm Mum down by promising I'd bring someone on Boxing Day."
Harry let out a relieved breath. "At least I won't be showing up unannounced now that they know about me."
"Oh, I just said I'm bringing someone," Ginny said, her expression perfectly innocent before it turned into a mischievous grin. "You don't seriously think I'd face the inquisition on my own, do you? If you're there, flashing that charming smile of yours, she'll be completely tame."
Harry groaned. "Charming smile? Me? Who are you confusing me with?"
Ginny giggled. "She even sent me off with lunch for tomorrow—for the both of us. Enough for four people, actually."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Are we expecting guests?"
Ginny grinned. "Mum always packs double portions for everyone." She glanced at her watch. "I think we should get going. So, where are we off to?"
"Let's Apparate to Charing Cross Road, right outside the Leaky Cauldron," Harry said, a touch of mystery in his tone. "It's just a five-minute walk from there."
Ginny gave him a sceptical look, her eyebrow arching. "A surprise, is it?"
Harry chuckled. "Not exactly. It's just a pub, but I've booked us a table at The Salisbury. Sirius is meeting us there."
After a brisk walk through the wintry streets, they stepped into the warm, bustling pub. The hum of conversation and clink of glasses greeted them, mingled with the inviting smell of hearty food and beer. Harry scanned the room and spotted Sirius at a table by the window, which offered a view of the street outside.
"There he is," Harry said, taking Ginny's hand and guiding her through the crowded room.
"Evening, Sirius," Harry greeted, managing a slightly nervous smile. "May I introduce you? This is my fiancée, Ginny Weasley. Ginny, meet my godfather, Sirius Black."
Sirius blinked, his eyes widening in astonishment. "Fiancée?" he repeated, standing abruptly. "And why am I only hearing about this now?" He strode over to Ginny with a grin, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement. "Forgive me, how rude of me. You've completely caught me off guard. It's lovely to meet you, Miss Weasley… or may I call you Ginny?"
Ginny offered him a charming smile. "Of course, you can call me Ginny, Mr Black. It's nice to meet you."
Sirius winced theatrically, pressing a hand to his chest as if in pain. "Oh, please, I know the joke is lame, but Mr Black was my father, and we don't talk about him. Just Sirius, please, if you don't mind."
Neville joined them, and Sirius insisted on getting the first round of beers.
"Congratulations on the engagement, Ginny," Neville said, smiling. "Harry told me yesterday."
"And we just dropped the bomb on Sirius," Ginny replied, giggling.
Sirius returned with the beers and handed them out before taking his seat. "Are we ready to order, or do we want to take our time?"
"Let's decide in peace," Harry said, pushing the menu towards Ginny.
Ginny grinned, "I wonder what my boss would say if he found out I was at a Christmas party with the heads of Firebolt."
"Who's your boss? Someone I'd know?" Sirius asked, intrigued.
"I'm sure you know him. Cuthbert Greengrass," Ginny replied, amused.
"Oh, good old Cuthbert, really?" Sirius asked, surprised. "You work for Nimbus?"
"She's even the head of research," Harry added with a broad grin, noting Sirius's incredulous expression. Turning to Neville, he asked. "Nev, have you heard anything about the marriage contract? I really ought to sort it, but I didn't feel like dealing with it so close to Christmas." He pulled a face.
"What marriage contract?" Sirius asked, looking bemused.
"Greengrass wants me to marry his daughter," Harry explained with a shrug.
"Is he starting that nonsense again?" Sirius groaned. "He should've learned his lesson when James refused to marry his sister."
"Actually, he wants her to marry me," Neville interjected with a grin.
"Because he thinks you're me," Harry clarified.
"That may be," Neville admitted. "I ran into Daphne by chance yesterday. As you know, I had a meeting with the Holyhead Harpies' directors to discuss creating a technical director position, as we'd talked about, Harry."
"And?" Harry prompted eagerly.
"That's still under negotiation, but…" Neville raised a finger for emphasis. "I also bumped into Daphne."
"Get to the point," Harry urged.
"Patience—it's worth the wait," Neville replied, grinning. "I've met Daphne loads of times for business, and we've always had pleasant chats. I got the impression she liked me."
"Stop rambling," said Harry impatiently. "Don't tell me you let slip you're not Harry Potter."
"Not exactly," Neville admitted, grinning sheepishly. "But we're going out for dinner after Christmas."
"You're dating Daphne Greengrass?" Harry asked, astonished.
"I'm going on a date with her," Neville corrected. "We'll see how it goes."
"You should tell her who you really are," Harry said carefully.
"And hope she's as understanding as I was," Ginny added, chuckling.
"Old Cuthbert probably won't care," Sirius said. "He wants a business marriage with Firebolt, and he'd get that with you just as well, Nev." He grinned at Neville. "And it's about his older daughter, isn't it? Then you'd take over Nimbus one day when old Greengrass retires. I doubt he'd hand the company over to the airhead his younger daughter married. He's a Malfoy, if I'm not mistaken." With a glance at Ginny, he added, "Distant relative of mine, though I'm not exactly proud of it."
"From what I've heard, he doesn't think much of Astoria's husband," Ginny confirmed.
"But I'm not going to date Daphne just because her father owns Nimbus," Neville protested, frowning.
Harry clapped his friend on the shoulder and grinned. "I wouldn't expect you to either, Nev. But I'd have to sit through all the boring business meetings if our competition snatches you away."
"Whatever you're doing, make sure to tell her before the wedding that you're not Harry, yeah?" Sirius said, smirking over his pint.
"And now I'm hungry," Ginny announced, reaching for the menu. "It's on the company, right? Or do I have to pay for my food at the Firebolt Christmas party?"
Saturday, Boxing Day
On Boxing Day, Harry woke early. He stretched, looking around as he yawned, and smiled when he noticed Ginny watching him, tucked snugly under the covers up to her chin.
"Nervous?" she asked with a mischievous smile.
"A little," Harry admitted.
"Don't worry," Ginny said, amused. "My family won't rip your head off."
Harry chuckled, his smile turning wry. "Maybe not rip my head off, but they might be disappointed I didn't introduce myself properly before proposing."
Ginny slid closer, her gaze meeting his as she smiled warmly. "Don't worry. You were abroad for months, and we had to keep it quiet so Greengrass wouldn't catch wind of it." She kissed him gently. "How about we leave early? That way, I could introduce you to my parents before my brothers and their families turn up, and you wouldn't have to face the whole horde at once. If we hurry, we could still get breakfast."
"I don't want to take advantage of your parents' hospitality," Harry said cautiously.
"Nonsense, Mum loves nothing more than feeding people," Ginny confidently brushed off his concerns.
"You sure?"
"Absolutely. I've never brought anyone home before, but no matter who my brothers dragged in, she always made them feel welcome." She laughed. "Just don't tell Dad too soon that you know about Muggle stuff, or you'll never escape his questions."
Harry grinned. "I'll keep that in mind. Alright, let's do it."
"Then we better get up now," Ginny pointed out, giggling as Harry pouted. "No, not even a quickie. I still need to shower and get ready, and we really should leave within an hour. Unless..."
"Unless I want to face the assembled Weasley relatives." Harry sighed.
"Exactly," Ginny teased, leaning over to kiss him. "Save the quickie for tonight."
"That'll be a long one," Harry replied, leaning in to kiss her before she slipped out of bed. He chuckled when his eyes landed on the Santa hat resting on her pillow—the only "clothing" they'd worn the day before. After spending Christmas Eve with Sirius, singing Christmas carols and exchanging gifts by the fire, they'd hardly left the bed on Christmas Day, except for a quick break to enjoy the lunch Ginny's mum had cooked and another for dinner—mostly consisting of leftovers, but they didn't mind. Smiling to himself, he grabbed the hat, popped it on, and began sorting through his clothes for the day to pass the time until the shower was free.
Forty-five minutes later, they were ready to leave. Since Harry's Floo wasn't connected to the Burrow, and it was cold outside, they first travelled to Ginny's flat by Floo. Once there, Ginny grabbed a pinch of powder, tossed it into the fireplace, and knelt down.
"Mum, are you home?" she called into the flames.
"Ginny, is that you?" came her mother's warm, excited voice from the other end.
"Yes! We're a bit early. I wanted to introduce you to someone before the whole family gets there. Can we come through?"
"Of course, dear," Molly replied, sounding even more eager now.
Ginny turned to Harry with a cheeky grin. "Alright, here we go. Last chance to run."
"Not a chance," Harry said confidently, stepping forward. But then he hesitated, a sudden thought stopping him in his tracks. "Wait—do they already know we're engaged?"
Ginny's lips curved into a mischievous smile, her tone all too innocent. "Oh, I might have forgotten to mention that little detail. But don't worry. Mum's bound to notice the ring straight away—she's got a knack for spotting anything shiny. Good thing I left it in the shower before seeing them on Christmas Eve, or she'd have bombarded me with questions then and there.
Harry let out a resigned sigh. "Fantastic," he muttered as Ginny stepped into the Floo. The green flames flared, whisking her away.
A moment later, Harry followed, landing slightly off balance in the cosy living room of the Burrow.
Ginny was already hugging a round-faced woman with red hair streaked with grey—clearly her mother. She turned and smiled as Harry dusted off his sleeves. "Mum, this is Harry. Harry, meet my mum."
"It's lovely to meet you, Harry. A merry Christmas to you," Molly said, beaming as she reached out to shake his hand. But when Ginny added casually, "My fiancé," Molly's hand froze mid-motion, her smile faltering in surprise.
Her expression shifted rapidly—from surprise to confusion, then to reproach. "Fiancé?" she repeated, her voice climbing an octave. Turning to Ginny, she added sharply, "And when exactly were you planning to mention this?"
Ginny blushed faintly, suddenly looking sheepish. "It only happened a few days ago," she mumbled.
Still processing, Molly's eyes flicked between Harry and Ginny. "I thought you'd only just started seeing each other!"
"Oh, no," Ginny said breezily, her confidence returning. "We've known each other since April." She turned toward the doorway, where a balding man with kind eyes had just appeared. "Hi, Dad," she said, moving to hug him. "This is Harry."
Arthur Weasley stepped forward, offering Harry a firm handshake. "Well then, Harry, it's nice to meet my daughter's fiancé," he said, his tone equal parts welcoming and curious.
Ginny offered a quick explanation. "I would've introduced him sooner, but Harry's been abroad for months. We had to keep things under wraps for a bit."
Molly, regaining her composure, clucked her tongue. "Never mind that for now. Did you already have breakfast? You both look half-starved. Come and sit; we'll sort everything out over tea."
"Just a little something," Ginny said, glancing at her watch. "It's almost lunchtime."
As they followed her mother into the kitchen, Molly's eyes caught the sparkle on Ginny's hand. She stopped abruptly, grabbing her daughter's hand with a gasp. "Oh, Ginny, let me see!" she exclaimed, examining the ring on her finger. "It's beautiful," she gushed before shooting Ginny a mock-reproachful look. "Now I understand why you couldn't visit yesterday."
Ginny flushed a deeper shade of red. "Well... we hadn't seen each other in a while, and, um..." She squared her shoulders, a teasing grin breaking through. "Yes, we did exactly what you're thinking."
Molly's eyes widened momentarily before she burst out laughing. "You know, Ginny," she said with a knowing smile, "I did the exact same thing when I got engaged to your father."
"Mum!" Ginny cried, her voice a mixture of mortification and disbelief.
Harry tried to stifle a laugh, grateful that the subject was shifting. Molly, however, waved it off like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Come on, sit down. Harry, tea or coffee?"
"Coffee, please," Harry replied, still trying to suppress a grin.
"Call me Molly," she insisted, already bustling about the kitchen. "You're family now."
"And I'm Arthur," her husband added with a smile. He sipped his tea, his curious gaze landing on Harry. "So, tell me, Harry—how did you two meet? And what do you do for a living?"
They had just finished breakfast, during which Arthur and Molly had thoroughly questioned them, and had moved into the living room when a red-haired young man entered, accompanied by a blonde woman who was clearly heavily pregnant.
"Merry Christmas," they both called and hugged Arthur and Molly warmly.
"This is my brother Percy with his wife, Penelope," Ginny said quietly to Harry.
As the two approached, they gave Ginny a curious look before Percy greeted her. "Merry Christmas, Ginny. I see you've brought company."
"Merry Christmas to you both too," Ginny replied, hugging them in turn. "This is my fiancé, Harry."
"Fiancé?" Percy repeated, raising an eyebrow in surprise as he extended a hand to Harry. "Nice to meet you, Harry."
"My pleasure," Harry said, shaking his hand.
"Sorry, I've got to grab Dad for a quick word," Percy said, before heading off towards Arthur. Meanwhile, Penelope murmured an apology and made her way to the loo.
"Ministry stuff again, I bet," Ginny muttered, rolling her eyes before giving Harry a small smile.
Moments later, more guests arrived in quick succession. First came Ginny's brother Ron, arm in arm with his fiancée, Hermione, closely followed by near-identical twins, one of whom had a dark-skinned girl with long, braided hair holding his hand.
After they greeted Arthur and Molly, the group turned their attention to Ginny and Harry, their curious gazes flicking between them.
"Hi, little sister. Merry Christmas," one of the twins called out with a cheeky grin. "So, did you manage to snag your own Santa?"
Ginny shot Harry a mischievous look before answering. "Merry Christmas to you too. And no, he's not my Santa, he's my fiancé, Harry."
"Fiancé?" George exclaimed, dramatically clutching his chest. "Blimey, Fred, that's two siblings married before us. Mum will have us engaged to the next available witch by New Year's."
"Speak for yourself," Fred shot back. "Angelina's got taste."
"Lucky me," Angelina said dryly, though her smile betrayed her amusement.
Used to her brothers' antics, Ginny seized the moment to introduce the rest of the group. "The cheeky one here is my brother George. His double is Fred, and that's his girlfriend, Angelina. Over there's my brother Ron with his long-time fiancée, Hermione."
"Long-time fiancée?" Hermione scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "We've only been engaged for three years."
"Some people don't stay married that long," George quipped with a grin.
Harry chuckled, turning to Ginny. "I hope you don't keep me waiting that long."
"Not a chance," Ginny deadpanned. With a wicked glint in her eye, she added, "I'm guessing those two didn't promise to wait until after the wedding. Otherwise, they'd never lasted three years."
"Ginny," groaned Ron, while the others burst out laughing. Even Hermione, though blushing slightly, couldn't suppress a giggle.
"Sit down, and don't go putting dents in my carpet," Molly joked, shooing them all towards their seats. "Ron, please make yourself useful and take care of the drinks. Lunch will be ready in half an hour."
They settled down, with Ron and Hermione across from Harry and Ginny. Ron was handing out wine and butterbeer, and had just sat down when Hermione cleared her throat. "So, Harry, what do you do, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I'm the head of research at Firebolt," Harry answered automatically.
Ginny nudged him with a grin. "Might as well tell them the whole truth."
Harry sighed, though his lips twitched with a smile. "Right. I'm also the owner of Firebolt."
"Harry Potter?" Ron blurted, astonished. "No way. You don't look like Potter. I know him. Met him a few times when he was at the Chudley Cannons. I work in management there."
"Yes, that!" Harry groaned. "I'm sure you've met Neville Longbottom," he said, raising a hand as Ron shook his head. "Long story...and in hindsight, a stupid boyhood prank. When my parents died and we took over the company, I asked my friend Neville to take over management. I couldn't stand all the business meetings, and Neville prefers being in an office to being on a broom. So we just swapped roles."
"And no one ever noticed?" asked Fred incredulously.
"Oddly, no," Harry admitted. "But that's about to change."
"Why's that?" asked Ron.
"Because he's engaged to the head of research at Nimbus," Hermione answered the question. "Cuthbert Greengrass will figure it out soon enough."
"At the latest, when Harry tells him he won't be marrying his daughter," Ginny added with a mischievous grin.
"What have you got to do with Daphne Greengrass?" Ron asked suspiciously.
"Absolutely nothing," Harry replied flatly. "But Cuthbert Greengrass offered Harry Potter a marriage contract, which Harry Potter will not be accepting."
"But he doesn't know who you really are," Hermione pointed out.
Harry shook his head. "Not yet. But he'll find out soon."
Everyone was grinning or shaking their heads at the story—except Percy, who gave them a disapproving look.
"Ginny, did you know that Harry is Harry Potter?" asked Angelina, joining in the conversation for the first time.
Ginny snorted. "Not at first – I thought he was James Evans." She shot Harry a mock-reproachful look. "At least he told me who he really was before proposing."
"How did you meet?" Hermione asked, her curiosity piqued.
"At the Ministry's broom testing grounds," Harry said, smiling. "She was head of research at Nimbus, I was at Firebolt, and we'd see each other there from time to time."
"He invited me for coffee, then to dinner," Ginny added, gazing at Harry with a dreamy look. "We started dating pretty quickly after that."
"You never mentioned anything," Ron interjected, frowning slightly.
"It's forbidden to socialize with Firebolt employees at Nimbus," Ginny explained with a shrug. "So we kept it quiet."
Turning to George, Ginny grinned. "You might want to ask Harry if he's interested in your broom maintenance kits—Greengrass wasn't."
"And the Quidditch gear I designed," Angeline added with a hopeful smile.
Harry grinned. "Let's see what we can do. But I'd say business can wait until next year."
Half a year later
Ginny sat in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection in disbelief. Was that really her? The woman looking back seemed almost unrecognisable—radiant, beautiful, nearly perfect.
"Ginny, lean forward a little," Fleur instructed in her lilting French accent, gently tugging at the bodice of the wedding dress. With a flick of her wand, she adjusted the fabric to ensure it sat just right. "Voilà! Now your dress fits perfectly. 'Arry will not be able to take 'is eyes off you."
Ginny chuckled softly. "Thank you, Fleur. It looks amazing."
"Non, Ginny," Fleur replied with a teasing wink, placing a delicate clip in her hair. "You look amazing. You are ze perfect bride."
Before Ginny could respond, the door creaked open. Her father's familiar face peeked in, his eyes shining with pride. "Are you ready, love? The music's starting."
"Of course, Arthur," Fleur said with a grin, stepping aside. "We must not keep poor 'Arry waiting."
Ginny took a deep breath accepted her father's hand. He gave it a reassuring squeeze as he led her out of the room, down the stairs, and through the house. They paused for a moment at the door, and Ginny couldn't help but marvel at the transformation of the garden that was usually so familiar to her. Twinkling fairy lights hung between the trees, casting a soft, golden glow, while rows of chairs lined the aisle, adorned with white and gold ribbon. As the soft strains of the wedding march floated through the air, the murmurs of the guests quietened and they stepped out into the open. Ginny dared a glance at Harry and relief washed over her as she caught sight of his nervous smile—he was just as nervous as she was. Somehow, that made her feel steadier, and she found herself smiling back.
The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur. Later, Ginny would struggle to recall the registrar's words or even the vows she and Harry had recited. But she'd never forget how Harry's steady fingers had slipped the ring onto her finger and the first kiss they shared as husband and wife.
The reception was a whirlwind of laughter, clinking glasses and soft music. Neville and Luna, their best man and bridesmaid, brought tears and laughter in equal measure with their toasts. Luna's speech brought roaring laughter as she recounted the time Ginny hexed a particularly persistent admirer who refused to take no for an answer, while Neville had the crowd misty-eyed with his heartfelt story about how he and Harry had come up with the idea of swapping roles, concluding with the hint that, without this silly idea, Harry might never have met Ginny.
Even Sirius couldn't resist standing up unannounced, much to Harry's dismay. With a mischievous grin, he launched into a series of mortifying tales from Harry's early years, earning howls of laughter from the crowd and a muttered, "You'll pay for this later," from Harry himself.
The couple finally opened the dance floor with a slow, graceful waltz, and Ginny began to feel the whirlwind of the day settle. Stealing a quiet moment together, they swayed in time to the music.
It wasn't long before Neville approached with a beaming smile, Daphne's hand tucked in his.
"Hey, Nev," Harry greeted warmly. "Have you two settled on a wedding date yet?"
"Not yet," Neville replied, smiling at his fiancée.
"It'll be sometime at the end of the year," Daphne added. "Either Christmas or New Year."
The two had grown close quickly after Christmas, and soon after, Harry and Ginny had found themselves on a series of double dates with the couple.
It had taken Daphne's father a while to accept that Harry Potter was not available, but after getting to know Neville and realising that he was the right man to take over Nimbus one day, he had made his peace with it. When Neville asked for his daughter's hand in marriage, he had given his blessing without hesitation.
"Poor Neville," Ginny teased. "You'll be Malfoy's in-law soon."
Neville shrugged. "I'll just ignore him. No idea how Daph's sister does it—she's got a patience I've never had."
Daphne snorted, amused. "She's the one with the money. He listens to every word to get his allowance."
Neville's grin widened. "I hope I get to dance with the bride later."
"And I with the groom," Daphne responded before Neville playfully tugged her away.
Seeking a quiet moment, Harry fetched them a glass of champagne from the buffet and they retreated to the table where Ron and Hermione were sitting.
"How are the wedding preparations coming along?" Harry asked, knowing their wedding, which was planned for Hermione's birthday, wasn't far off. Apparently the teasing had become too much for the two of them and they had decided to get married after Harry and Ginny announced their plans.
"Everything's sorted out except for a few minor details," explained Ron confidently.
"Minor details?" Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes. "Thanks to Ron, we'll have to find another bakery for the wedding cake."
Ron scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "It wasn't that bad," he muttered.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "What did he do this time?"
"After they convinced him he wasn't entitled to a free sample cake, he claimed the cake didn't have enough icing anyway and tried to 'fix' it with a knife." Hermione said, still horrified.
"I've been telling you all along we should ask Mum. Her cakes are the best," Ron said, unfazed.
"Oh, you Weasleys," said Harry, amused.
"Good thing I'm a Potter now," said Ginny, patting Harry's hand and kissing him on the cheek.
A few seats down, Percy hovered nervously over a baby's bassinet, his usual pomp forgotten as he adjusted the blanket for the fourth time in two minutes.
"Percy, he's fine," Penelope sighed, rolling her eyes.
"Better than fine," George said, peering over Percy's shoulder. "Looks like he takes after me. Handsome devil."
Fred, who'd just returned from the dance floor with Angelina, nudged him. "Yeah, right. Poor kid's doomed with Percy's nose."
Percy shot him an annoyed look while the others laughed.
"Come on, let's go over to my parents," Ginny suggested, pointing to the other end of the table where they were sitting with Sirius.
"There's something special about seeing your children so happy," her father said, wiping his eyes, as they approached. "And to see Harry become part of our family... well, I never thought I'd get another son, but here he is."
Molly nodded, patting Ginny's hand. "You've made me proud, dear. And Harry too. He'll always be welcome at our table, even if he still insists on putting ketchup on his dinner." Grinning, she shook herself. "What a horrible habit."
Harry laughed. "I learned that from Sirius here, he probably brought it with him from the States."
"What's wrong with ketchup?" asked Sirius, visibly astonished.
"But not with fish & chips," Molly explained in disbelief.
Sirius shrugged and turned to Harry. "Have you decided yet whether you want to move into your parents' house?"
"At some point," said Harry, looking to Ginny for confirmation.
Ginny nodded. "It's a bit big for just the two of us. But we want to take our time. Set it up right. That way, we can move in whenever it feels right."
Ginny's mother looked up, pleased. "Are you planning on having a baby soon?"
"No, Mum. That will have to wait," Ginny chuckled, rolling her eyes. "I'm just getting into management at Firebolt, where I share the work with Harry."
"Yes, it looks like Neville will be moving to Nimbus soon. After the wedding at the latest," Harry pointed out.
"And how are your brothers doing as heads of research, Ginny?" asked Sirius.
"They're quite inventive, aren't they, Harry," Ginny looked up at her new husband. "Now they can finally contribute all their ideas, especially about broom maintenance."
"Angelina's ideas about Quidditch clothing with the Firebolt brand sound good too," Harry confirmed. "Even Daphne has expressed her interest in taking over this as a license for Nimbus."
"Is Cuthbert happy with the arrangement?" asked Sirius.
"At least he seems to have buried his old grudge against the Potters," said Harry with a grin.
Bill and Fleur joined them, and Charlie soon followed.
"And Charlie, do you still think Harry is mad for putting up with me?" Ginny teased. It was what her brother had said when he first met Harry a few weeks ago.
Charlie grinned. "From everything I've heard so far, it's actually the other way around. I admire you for putting up with him and all the business meetings you have to attend. I never thought that would be for you."
"They both bring out ze best in each other," Fleur explained with a smile.
"As long as Ginny is happy, I am happy for her too," Bill nodded in agreement.
Ginny smiled softly, her fingers brushing Harry's as she took his hand. "Come on, let's dance again."
As the evening wore on, Harry and Ginny slipped away from the party, walking hand in hand towards the pond. The cool night air was a welcome relief from the warmth inside the tent. Fireflies flitted between the hedges, their soft glow lighting the path, while the faint hum of voices drifted over from the party behind them.
"Do you think everything we've dreamed of will actually come true?" Harry asked, his voice low.
Ginny leaned her head against his shoulder. "With this lot? Not a chance. But it'll be perfect anyway."
Note: I struggled a bit to come up with a story idea for the 'Forbidden Love' theme without resorting to bashing, and I know the story would need to be three times as long to fully explore everything. Still, I hope you enjoy it, ManyGrey!
A big thank you goes to GryffindorHealer for proofreading.