Compilation of Hinny Works

by LegendDairy

I've got too many Hinny one-shots, and there are more coming. So they are all going to be posted here instead of individual stories. And Harry/Ginny pairings only, no others. Will be updated sporadically.

148. Cottage Life

AN- I cannot find the name of the person who sent me the request for this prompt because it was made over a year ago and my inbox is a nightmare. I know they followed up on it a few times to see my progress but I can't find it! So, I'm sorry. When they read this, they will realize it was them that requested it and see how the seemingly small prompt took on a life of its own.

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Cottage Life

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Harry stood up on the little hill, staring at the little cottage that he hadn't seen in years.

He'd been given his orders, just like every other man his age, and he'd followed through with them; get married, consummate, then get off to war. There were a lot of men he'd fought beside that hadn't known their brides either and several of them were looking forward to getting back to those wives they had, wanting to find out if they were fathers or not.

Harry had been one of the few lot that couldn't be bothered finding a wife, so he was given one. They'd both been equally stubborn about it and barely looked at each other from the initial meeting, through the ceremony and right up to when he left. He knew she was pretty and that her skin was soft, because they did consummate, but it was dark when they did the deed and he had left before the sun rose the next morning.

It didn't matter to him who he married; he didn't plan on spending much time with whomever it was when the marriage occurred. He figured there was a good chance he would die out there, and if he didn't, well, he was supposed to keep the family name going anyhow.

Now that the war was over he was going to need to find another occupation, his home, that she had been living in, was where he wanted to stay until it was figured out.

He tilted his head as he looked at the cottage. He recalled it being in a lot rougher shape than it appeared now. Perhaps she'd hired someone to take care of things.

Perhaps she'd spent every pence that had been sent to her from his wages, he thought with a scowl.

"Can I help you with something?" came the call from behind him.

He turned around abruptly, not having heard anyone walking along the path towards him.

It was her.

She'd come up the walk behind him and was standing there now with a basket in her hand, wearing trousers of all things.

And she was still pretty.

Perhaps he should have taken a photograph of her with him at least as a reminder of how pretty she was. Her hair was long, bright red and windswept. Her skin fair and freckled, her eyes a deep brown.

"Oh," she pursed her lips. "It's you."

His jaw clenched at her tone. "You must have been expecting me to show up at some time or another."

"Yes. You, or the postman," she said curtly and started on her way again to the house. "Come on in then. I suppose you want something to eat and some sleep."

She passed by him on the walk and he caught a whiff of her, she smelled like wild flowers. He'd been smelling nothing but sea spray, other men's sweat and dirt for the past three years, the smell of flowers was a welcome scent.

As he followed her through the gate and into the garden he noticed how many wild flowers she'd allowed to grow in the front garden. At first glance they appeared to all be running wild, but upon closer inspection he saw they weren't, they'd been trimmed and separated by color. He then observed the sway of her hips as she walked.

"I don't imagine I've got a child I don't know about then?" he asked. As he understood it, women that bore children had wider hips.

"A child, no. You've got three. No promises they're yours though."

He took a mis-step and swore as he stumbled, then heard her chuckle.

"No, Mister Potter, you haven't got any children. Not by me anyhow."

He scowled at her for nearly giving him a heart attack. He was an only child, he'd had a lot of time to think about it when he was in the trenches, he wanted a family, he wanted kids, as many as he could have considering the mortality rate of infants as it was. Her saying that he'd gotten her pregnant with triplets that would be two years old already, if it were true, would be a shock, but a blessing as well.

He didn't suppose she was interested in trying for a child right away now that he was back.

The food and sleep she had suggested were a good start though.

The house was organized nicely, save for the stacks of crates that were off to one side of the kitchen, he didn't know what they were for, but they were an eye sore.

"I'll make you up something proper, but first, have this," she handed him an apple. "And please head up to the bath. I've got a spare pair of clothes for you that I'll put out on your bed."

"You've a spare pair of clothes for me?" How could she have? She hadn't been sure he was coming back.

"You'll notice I'm not in a dress, I prefer not to be when I have to go out of the house. It's a small village down the road, the women are all used to me dressing in men's clothes. Though, I suppose I'll have to switch back to those blasted dresses now the men are all returning. Anyhow, I've got clothes from my brothers that will fit you. They're clean and in good repair."

"You have brothers?" He struggled to remember her maiden name. He remembered her given name, but her former surname she'd had for only a few minutes before they'd met, then she had his. All he'd known about her is that she was equally as stubborn as him and she came from a literate family. They didn't do much talking before he left.

She nodded.

"Did they serve?"

"Of course they did. They were forced into marriages, same as I was, and shipped off. Trust me, if the marshal's found me and managed to get me married off, they certainly found all my brothers."

"They were trying to hide you then?"

"Yes," she stopped fussing about the kitchen putting her market purchases away and stared at him in exasperation. "I tend to leave enough of an impression that people remember me. One of our neighbors turned me in for being unmarried and of age. Now, are you going to go and have that bath? You smell something awful."

He wanted to say something chastising to her, but she was right. He'd been travelling by train, sea and wagon for a full two days with very little time for things like personal hygiene. He was tired and hungry and very much wanted to get out of his blasted uniform.

"Mind you take your shoes off before you head up the stairs. I keep the second level floors properly clean."

He ground his teeth, but did as she requested. "You think I smell bad already and you want me to remove my boots?" he muttered to himself.

"I heard that. And yes. I'm going to chuck them out into the garden to air out. If you could open the window in the bathing room and chuck your clothes out into the garden as well, I'll take care of them too."

He'd gotten used to being ordered around by his superiors, but this woman was his wife, not his Master Sargent. And they were living in his home.

Once he had more energy, they were going to have a talk about how she needed to stop ordering him around.

He checked in all the doors on the second floor. There was one that was clearly the one she used; the bed was mussed and there were clothes draped over the chair in the corner, the walls were a light blue color that looked very peaceful and had two pieces of art hanging up that he wanted to take a closer look at later, they were both of landscapes, but something looked off about the way the paint had come together.

He found 'his' bedroom next. It wasn't musty, it seemed like she might have gone through it and done a cleaning and airing out recently. Perhaps because she'd heard the war ended and knew he might be coming back here. The walls were darker in there, there was a nice wardrobe against the wall though, he didn't check if there was anything in it, he was more focused on the mattress, blanket and pillows that looked very inviting.

Then the bathroom was last. He didn't recall it looking so lovely in there, or that they had indoor plumbing for the tub and sink. Indoor plumbing had only been around for a decade or so, and it was mostly just the homes in the cities that had it. He took another look out the window and saw there was a small water tower in the back yard. There was only one faucet in the room, nothing to indicate hot or cold like he would see at a hotel. He turned it on and the water ran cold for the first minute, then slowly turned warm, then hot. It was much more luxurious than a camp shower or a washing bin, and well more preferable than only having a dip in the sea as an option. She had a variety of soaps as well.

He opened the window and let the cool breeze wick away some of the heat in the air that his hot bath was generating. Then one by one he undid the buttons on his jacket and then his shirt and chucked them out the window, as requested by her. Once his last article of clothing was removed and discarded, he was already feeling much more relaxed.

He was finally alone without a stitch on him. He had privacy and freedom.

Once the water was high enough he checked the temperature and eased himself in, then let out a long sigh of contentment. Then he spotted his apple she'd given him. The idea of having a snack while he soaked gave him a chuckle owing to the luxury of the idea. Once he was done with the apple, he gave the core a hard chuck out the window as well, then took up the soap and started scrubbing himself all over.

There were other things beside the tub, bottles and instruments for keeping ones self clean and trimmed lined up by the tub. One of the bottles had a label that read 'hair soap'. He uncorked it and took a whiff. This was what his wife had been using on her hair. He poured it into his hands and then worked the lather through his long locks that were in desperate need of a cut.

By the time he got out of the bath he felt like he'd shed a full two layers of skin off of him and now smelled as fresh as a daisy. After the water had been drained he saw that it was entirely possible that he'd had two complete layers of grime on him. She'd probably not appreciate seeing that in there, but currently he wasn't sure how he was supposed to deal with cleaning it up.

He listened at the door to figure out if she might be upstairs or down but heard nothing. He opened the door and was surprised to find her standing in the doorway of her own room, waiting for him apparently.

Her eyes opened a bit wider at the sight of him standing there stark naked, then they gave a bit of a wander and a small smile played about her lips. "I imagine there's a mess in the tub?"

He didn't bother with trying to cover himself up. It was his house and she was his wife, why should he bother to cover himself up. He'd been denied the freedom that nakedness allowed for too long.

"I was wondering how I should go about cleaning it up," he offered.

"I'll show you some other time," she dismissed. "Do you want me to bring you food to your room? Keep in mind, this is a one-time offer. Unless you're ill, I expect you'll be able to make it to the kitchen after today for your meals."

"I… would be grateful. Thank you."

She was being so nice.

Was she usually nice? Perhaps she was trying to butter him up and let him have a day's reprieve before telling him they were destitute due to her wanting indoor plumbing and all the repairs done around their home.

That was tomorrow's problem to deal with though. Right now, he wanted to stretch out naked under his blanket and be brought his dinner.

He went down the small stretch of hallway to his smaller bedroom and found the clothes she'd put out for him, then moved them over to place in the wardrobe, which had a few more clothes, spare candles, blankets and some other items in it.

He was too tired to look through all the belongings in his room right then. The bed was calling him to it. Another groan escaped his lips as he settled down into the bed; it was so soft, and the blanket felt so nice against his bare skin. He closed his eyes as soon as his head hit the pillow.

"You'll need a bit more food in you before you fall asleep properly," her soft voice whispered.

His eyes shot open. It may have only been a minute he'd been laying there, but he easily could have continued sleeping for a full day.

She was carrying a plate with stew and a biscuit, as well as a glass of water.

He sat up and she set the plate down in his lap and the glass on his side table.

"Thank you, Ginevra."

She'd already stepped back and turned for the door, then paused. "I go by Ginny, actually. Harold."

He offered her a small smile. "I go by Harry, actually."

His small smile was returned. "Nice we've got that sorted now that we've been married so long."

()()()

The sun was strong when he opened his eyes again. He could hear the ocean through the windows, which were open. He didn't recall them being open, maybe Ginny had crept into the room and opened them while he slept. He turned his head and saw that the glass he had on the bedside table had been filled again, so she had been in the room.

He drank down the water greedily. Clean, fresh water was not something he'd had easy access to. Creek water was a luxury over the past three years, every other beverage had been boiled and turned into tea or something to mask the taste of it.

Harry gave a stretch and realized he hadn't slept as well as he just had in a very long time.

The fresh sea air mixed in with the flowers she'd planted all around the cottage was a lovely aroma to awake to.

When he had purchased this cottage it was with the bonus allowed to him when he was forced to join the army. He was reasonably educated, his aunt and uncle who had raised him had not given him much care, but they did ensure that he was literate, and he enjoyed reading, so his education continued on well past where most of his peers had given up to go in search of work instead of education.

The bonus he'd been given wasn't enough to purchase somewhere in the city, and he didn't want to continue living in the city either, it was so filthy all the time, so he'd found this place and bought it. Then his first order had been to get married, so he did that too and had only spent one night in his cottage home before being shipped across the channel. The cottage had needed a few repairs, and he'd felt sorry for abandoning his new bride with such a mess of a home to deal with, never mind that he didn't even know her beyond first introductions and an awkward consummation.

The night they'd been married neither of them had said much to each other. They were two of several people being forced to marry, there were officers there in the room to make sure that the minister got through with every pair.

He'd been grateful at the sight of her; being of nearly the same age as him and pretty with a spirit in her eyes, despite the circumstances.

They'd consummated in the room she'd turned into a sitting room on the main floor. There had been no time for him to set up the cottage as a proper home, so the bed hadn't been moved upstairs.

He'd left her a note the morning after to tell her they owned the home, the address of it and which regiment he was reporting to in case she needed to know. It didn't occur to him until much later that he hadn't thought to wonder if she could read. Just because he knew she came from a literate family didn't mean that she was one of the literate ones.

The sound of voices carried through the window, it sounded like two women talking by the front of the house. Then there was a squeal from a child, a happy sound.

Harry got out of bed and went to the window and saw that Ginny was swinging a small child around in circles by their arms while they were crying in delight. Another woman, presumably the child's mother, was grinning as she watched them.

Near to Ginny was a basket that had all sorts of food items; fresh baked bread, a liter of milk and produce. The other woman had a basket on her arm with fresh cut flowers and what looked like a few bottles of that hair cleaner that he had used in the bathroom last night.

"I've got to get going," the woman said.

"Oh, alright," Ginny replied and put the child down, a little girl whose bonnet slipped and revealed red hair, just like Ginny had. "Be good for your mum, Molly. Or else I'll make you come and work a day with me!" She then chased the child while giving her tickles and the little girl squealed with joy again and ran after her mum, full of giggles.

Harry smiled at the scene.

Ginny turned back to the cottage and picked up her basket, then her eyes went immediately to his window and her eyebrows went up. She checked back over her shoulder where her friend had now gone down the path and out of sight. "Trying to give other women a thrill?" she called up.

At first he wasn't sure what she was referring to, then he realized he was still naked.

He stepped back from the window immediately and crossed to the wardrobe, pulling on a long shirt, not bothering with finding trousers to go along with them. She had now twice seen him naked and hadn't appeared very shocked by it, he didn't imagine going down for breakfast like this was going to give her a heart attack.

She was in the kitchen putting things away when he went down.

"Most in the village deal in trade," she told him. Her back was to him, but she'd obviously heard him come in. "You'll have noticed that the cottage looks different. The women around here have all pitched in to help fix up the homes while you men have been out to war. It's taken a long time, but we've got through the lot of them now, with the help and guidance of some older or infirm men."

"I did notice a drastic difference here."

"And no doubt you'll have assumed I've been spending your salary." She tossed him a look over her shoulder. Amusement or teasing, he couldn't tell which she was aiming for.

"I may have wondered. Particularly with the plumbing you've got set up."

She hummed in response. "And one day I hope not to need a chamber pot. Although, it does wonders for the flowers, so I guess it isn't all that bad."

He made a face as he understood what that meant. Though, it was known to be an excellent fertilizer.

"Is that what you trade in? Flowers?"

"And different kinds of soaps." Her head nodded to the crates in the corner that he'd noticed yesterday. "I've also been selling them to neighboring villages and have a standing order from one of the hotels three towns over. I used a bit of your money to get started, but don't fear, I've repaid it now so it's all there."

"You are telling me you make your own money?" Trade he could understand, it was the basic home economics that wives needed, but making money, that was a lot more difficult for women.

"I do. And we've not just got flowers here, there are chickens that I've built a pen for on the other side of the back fence, and rabbits that are in cages, I just move the cages around the field so they can eat and not get eaten."

"I see you've put a lot of work in."

"So, you'll understand if I don't mean to leave."

That was an odd statement for her to make. "I have no plans that require you leaving," he told her in confusion.

She finished putting the food away and lit a fire in the stove, then turned to him. "Have you had enough time to think about what plans you do have?"

"No," he admitted. "I've been stuck fighting in a battle that I don't care to be involved in for too long, not having to think for so long that my only thoughts had been to get here and put my feet up finally."

"Then you've no thoughts or expectations for me?"

"I… had forgotten about you," he admitted. On some level, he knew he had a wife. He hadn't been actively thinking about her though. He'd wondered from time to time if he might have a child, but that too had never been at the forefront of his mind. He'd been living from one day to the next and picturing the cottage that he'd purchased and not had time to live in yet. "I've been hoping only to get back here and live in this cottage by the sea."

She didn't look offended by it. "That's fair." She put a pan on the stove and took two eggs and cracked them into it. "I've been keeping myself busy enough not to think much of you either. My reminders that I have a husband come in the form of a letter every other month with a few pound notes in it. You'll find them in a jar in that wardrobe, by the way."

She sliced off the heel of the bread and handed it to him, then sliced off another piece and put that in the pan as well.

"You've really been making yourself self-sufficient here then?"

"What choice have I had? What choice have any of the women here had? All the men were shipped off. Were we all supposed to let the farmlands turn to grass and the animals die off? There were still children to teach, fences to build, livelihoods to upkeep."

"I understand that, but I don't know what kind of home you were coming from. I didn't know if coming here was a step up, or a step down. Coming home to find that my cottage has miraculously been transformed into something inhabitable and comfortable, with a wife who has been able to create a business for herself is hardly what I had pictured. I expected to get here and find it the same way I left it, give or take an occupant."

Ginny smirked at that as she turned his eggs over. "I thought about leaving a few times in the days after you'd left. I even went so far as to go back to my mothers to see how she was fairing and considered staying there to help her out on the farm. But there was where I found my sister-in-law, and that my mother had gotten a few farm hands that were too young to go off to war, and would have a few years before they needed to. My mother didn't need me home, and my sister-in-law didn't need to be staying there either, so she came back with me. She lived here for a year, then she and my new niece bought a house down in the village. That was her that you just saw, her and Molly." She moved the food from the pan to a plate and handed it to him with a fork, with a nod of her head to the table. "Hermione helped me make up this home while she was here, then I helped her make up hers. She's the schoolteacher in the village now. I minded Molly while she was still too young to be going into the schoolhouse with her mum, but now she's old enough to sit in the corner and play or attempt to understand what her mother is teaching the other children."

"We have family close by then?" He was awed by the prospect of it. It sounded like Ginny and Hermione were very close and he'd never had family that was close, or friendly.

Her gaze stayed on him for a moment. "Yes," she said finally, "we do."

Now he understood the stare. He'd made to assume that her family was his family, meanwhile she and he were still strangers.

He finished his breakfast and asked her no more questions while she puttered around the kitchen. He wasn't sure what she was doing exactly, but it involved moving a lot of things around, and once he was finished she took his plate and put it in the basin that had a faucet over it.

"I'll get some clothes on and do a tour of the property," he announced to her.

"You do that then. I'll need every surface in this room for the next few hours."

That was enough dismissal for him, he went upstairs to his wardrobe and found a pair of trousers for him, opting not to wear socks, preferring to stay barefoot as much as possible for today at least. He'd had enough of boots and socks, he'd been one of the lucky ones that hadn't wound up with trench foot.

He took a look through all the things that were stashed away in the wardrobe and found the jar with all the money she'd been sent of his salary. It added up to a large sum, and he wasn't sure what to do with it all. It did mean that he would have time to think about his next move.

He walked all around the property, taking note of how the stone fencing had been built, seeing the chicken coop and the rabbit cages, the crudely made steps carved into the earth that led down to the sea. He walked along in either direction to see just how far away the neighbors were, which was a fair distance, enough to afford privacy to his and Ginny's cottage. Then he went back up the steps and looked around at all the different varieties of flowers that she had grown. She came in and out of the cottage kitchen a few times to take clippings of the flowers, then went back in. Then he inspected the rigging that was done up for the plumbing. It was no ingenious set up, but he marveled at the simplicity of it. There was a water tower that was just higher than where the bathroom was, it was heavily reinforced and looked to be designed to catch rainwater, but there was also a pump near the side of it that must have pulled up well water. Two hoses were connected to it, one that ran down to the kitchen, the other to the bathroom. Beneath the tower was a stove, and this stove was how she had heated the water for his bath yesterday.

She hadn't known he was coming though.

So that meant that she had been planning a bath for herself and gave it to him instead.

That was very generous of her.

Granted, of the two of them it was painfully obvious who was more in need of a bath.

He went back into the cottage then and observed her at her work.

"So, what are your intentions?" she asked after he had been observing her for a while. She had known he was there, but there was nothing said between them until then.

"Intentions? For what? There are so many things that question could be about. For work? I've no idea. I didn't know what I was going to do before I was forced to join up. For this cottage? Nothing. Keeping it up as you have made it would be my only intention. I suppose I'll have to go down to the village and see how I can possibly make myself of use in some way or another."

"And what of your husbandly duties?"

He had as much of an answer for that as he did of the other possible meanings of the question.

"I don't know," he answered honestly.

She nodded. "And do you drink? Smoke? Solicit prostitutes?"

She was very brazen to ask such things. "I won't turn down a drink, but I also won't get sauced and forget myself. Smoking is something I've only done here and there, never as a habit. I've never solicited a prostitute and I don't intend to start now." It was time for him to ask her some questions though. "And what of you? What are your thoughts of wifely duties? Was there someone you had in mind before you were forced to marry me?"

"I held a fancy for a few boys before the war started, none strong enough that I acted on them or even considered marrying them. There haven't been many men around here for me to choose from either. I did grow up with two parents that were well in love with each other, so I had hoped to have that in my future, but as this is where we find ourselves now, I suppose you'll do and we'll just have to get to know each other."

"You do flatter me," he said dryly.

"I'm not trying to. I do like the look of you, but I don't know you. We've spent one night together and only because the law declared it had to be so. The thing is, I didn't get pregnant and strange as it sounds, I was disappointed I hadn't; particularly since my sister-in-law had. I needed to keep in mind that she and my brother had known each other and married as soon as it was announced all able-bodied men were advised to do so. They had more than one night to try and conceive before he was shipped away. I want children. Even if it turns out that you and I don't wind up in love, I know I'll love my children."

"You are being very forward." He too wanted children; he just hadn't been prepared to hear the same from her. And everyone knew how babies were made.

"I am. Because if children are not something you want. If sex is not something you want, then we'll have to go our separate ways. I don't suppose the countries leaders will take issue with couples getting divorces now that hadn't already started increasing the population."

"Shouldn't you at least get to know me, at least give it a full day, before we start talking like this?"

"What would be the point?" she asked, still working away, tying string around bunches of flowers. "It is really a simple question I'm asking you in the end; do you want children?"

"Well, yes," he told her. "But-"

"There's nothing else to be said right now then. If you want children, then we can keep getting to know each other. If you didn't, then I wouldn't have bothered." She finished tying off the bunch of flowers she had been working on and cut the string with a knife, finally looking up to him then. "So, Harry," she asked with a pleasant tune, "would you like to help me with this?"

The whole interaction had felt strange to him. She was very forward, but he could acknowledge that it was a good thing they had gotten that conversation out of the way. He came to stand beside her and began copying what she was doing with the different flowers, then watched how she attached them to the beams in the ceiling so they would hang to dry, then she went out to collect more flowers and he continued to work inside while she kept gathering until finally she appeared pleased with the amount they had accomplished. He then assisted her with cleaning up and watched as she began preparing dinner and told him about her family.

Ginny had grown up on a farm with several brothers, three of them, she was the last child and the only girl. She knew that one of her brothers had decided to stay in France now the war was over because he'd fallen in love with a woman there and he was already arranging to divorce the woman he'd been forced to marry before being shipped off. Another of her brothers had lost a leg partway through the war and had returned home to help his mother out as best he could around the farm, his wife had come with him and they were staying together and getting on well enough. Her last brother, the one whose wife and child were in the village, hadn't come home yet. There had been no letter saying he had been killed, so they were all choosing to think that no news was good news and hoping he would turn up soon. She had lost her father a few years before the war and her mother refused to leave the farm but would come out for a visit every month or two for a day, usually when there was a market in the town over so she could sell whatever she had to sell. Her mother was the one that had taught Ginny how to make soaps, Ginny had been the one to turn those soaps into what she had today, with the different types and varieties.

Harry then told her of his own upbringing, of his aunt and uncle that took him in, but reminded him constantly that he would never be capable of living up to the standards of the son they had lost to diphtheria when he was five. He told her about his education and how he had been hoping to go on to a university on scholarship, but how he had never been given the scholarship and so he had worked as a laborer until the war started, then how he had started dreaming of living in the country considering the number of people that had needed to convalesce in the country air and how he didn't want to subject his lungs to the same filth until he dropped dead, still a young man.

The rabbit stew she had made for dinner had been very good, and they continued talking until the sun began to set, then he suggested they get to bed and talk more in the morning.

He had just been nodding off in his bed when he heard the door opening.

"Ginny?"

She said nothing before she lifted his covers and slid into the bed beside him. "I had expected that you were meaning for us to go to bed together."

He had been sleeping naked again and was shocked to feel that she too was naked, and now they were both naked and under the same blanket. "I hadn't meant, that is, I hadn't thought that you," he started saying weakly. He didn't mind this situation one bit actually, so he didn't know why he would bother protesting.

"Was my mention of sex earlier not enough of a hint for you," she teased.

He rolled onto his side to face her in the dark. He couldn't see her, but he could feel her, feel her warmth and feel a few parts of her skin against his own, and it felt very good.

"You had mentioned it hand in hand with wanting children. I guess I was under the impression that you wanted us to get to that part eventually, not right away."

She put her arm around his waist. "It's been three years since I last tried for a baby. How much longer did you expect me to wait?"

Her leg hooked around him then too and he let his hand slide up her thigh and grasp at her bum. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "And am I to assume that want of a child is the only reason you are seeking me out right now?" He kissed her again, closer to her neck.

"It's hardly a sin for a woman to want to lay with her husband," she told him evasively.

"I've been dreaming of sex since I was old enough to understand what it was. You'll excuse me for hoping you came in here for more than one sole purpose."

"There may be another," she said as her hand ran up and down his back, stirring interesting feelings all through his system. He hummed and kissed her neck again, asking her to continue. "I've never been properly kissed. I thought you might be the right person to help me out with that."

He pulled his head back.

Since he came back into the cottage today they had been talking and sharing stories, he'd been admiring the look of her, the skills she had with her hands and her mind, taking in the lovely shape of her mouth and wondering how it was that he had won the strange lottery that landed him with this woman, wondering if he would be capable of getting her to love him. Now here she was, asking him to make a first attempt at properly 'loving' her.

The only time they had shared a kiss had been the quick one that was required in front of the minister and several strangers. Their coupling on the wedding night had been perfunctory, and while he'd finished, he hadn't allowed himself to enjoy it more than necessary, given just how strange everything was.

"Will you let me be thorough about it?" he asked.

Her nose touched his and she nuzzled him gently. "Show me how thorough you would like to be."

He let their lips touch then and was luxuriously slow about it. His hands wandered all over every surface of her he could reach several times over as his lips worked hers over. For ages he carried on doing nothing but massaging her from her head to her thighs and everywhere in between. He grew incredibly hard as he did this and nearly lost his head when she grew tense and shuddered before crying out and throwing her head back. He knew he had been doing something right when she had that reaction. He kissed his way down her chest then and took his time nuzzling against her breasts and letting his lips and tongue trace along her nipples. When she started panting again he couldn't take it any longer and guided himself into her, slowly until he was completely buried inside her warmth. He tried to kiss her again but her head was still thrown back. Her hands came down to grasp his arse and she started making small movements that had his head spinning with desire.

It didn't take long for him to completely lose his head, for it had been quite a long time since he'd been granted time and privacy enough for this kind of release.

He wanted to collapse on top of her, but she had something else in mind and flipped them over, holding tight to the pillow at either side of his head and continuing to use him like a stud horse until she cried out again, then she was the one to collapse on top of him.

"That was brilliant," he sighed.

"Oh, I quite agree," she panted. "I had no idea." She came to lay beside him then and they both drifted off to sleep quickly, their fingers intertwined.

()()()

Harry gave a stretch in the morning, his hand automatically going out to reach for Ginny but he only found more mattress. He had thought that he was an early riser until they started living together and she was the one usually up and about before the cock crowed.

Just one morning he would have liked to wake up and be luxuriously lazy beside her and do a replay of what they had been doing the night before.

The sun was already breaking over the sea and shining light into the master bedroom, the nice light blue room that they now shared. Just out the window of the room was a clothesline that was holding up two days' worth of their clothes that had been hung to dry, and those clothes had been hanging there for nearly a week.

He gave another stretch before sitting up and smiling to himself.

He'd wanted a simple cottage life and he'd got it.

For this past week he'd come to learn of his wife's business and assisted her with the way she ran the cottage, learning from her. The cottage he had been looking forward to returning to after so many years away, what he hadn't expected was to find himself in fancy for the woman he'd been forced to marry and leave behind in said cottage.

She was remarkable.

He was curious about what the rest of the women in the village were like, since they had all banded together to make this cottage, and every other one around, so conveniently livable. They hadn't ventured outside the property since he'd returned though.

And this was partly the reason why their clothes were still on the drying line after so many days of being hung up there. For, when Ginny had mentioned to him upon his arrival about wearing trousers into town and how she would need to switch back to wearing dresses, what she hadn't said was that when she was at her own home she generally preferred to not wear anything at all, something he was surprised and perfectly fine with.

After the night that she had come to his bed he'd gone downstairs in the morning to find her going about her day in only a shift dress, as he was only wearing a pair of shortened long johns, he said nothing about it. Their conversation hadn't flowed quite as easily that morning as it had the day before, though they each took turns casting glances at each other and then giving a small smile and returning to their task. When the sun was high in the sky and baring down on them, the wind from the sea being the only thing to keep them cool, she simply gave up on the modesty and admitted to her preference to wear nothing at all.

It was a distraction, to be sure, having a lovely woman moving about the garden without a stitch on her, but it also felt so liberating, as he had shed his clothes as well.

The clothes currently on the line were there from when they had heavy rains one day and needed to get dressed to keep warm as the winds had brought a chill.

Today they would be needing those clothes, because today they were going to go into the village as it was a trade day. His job, Ginny told him, would be stocking up the hand cart with their supply of matured chickens and rabbits, of which it was also now his job to slaughter.

He could hear her moving about down in the kitchen, stacking bottles and clearing surfaces. She too was getting ready for trade, but hers was for tomorrow, when they were taking the hand cart and hitching it to a borrowed horse to bring an order of soaps to the hotel. That was going to be a full day journey, a total of about 25 miles round trip. There had been a postman that brought a letter from them requesting the supplies as they had been full up with soldiers returning from war and stopping there on their way home. Harry had suggested she bring extra and talk to the hotel owner about selling her soaps on consignment, a suggested purchase for these soldiers so they wouldn't be returning to their wives empty handed. An idea that Ginny loved.

He went downstairs in search of his wife and a breakfast. She was in the midst of writing up a tally of the supplies when he came up behind her and gave a kiss to her shoulder in greeting.

"If this plan of yours works then we may need to look into getting a larger cart," she warned him.

"It would be well worth it if it does work. Have you eaten?" he asked as he lit the hob. There were no dishes around to indicate she'd made something for herself.

"No, but the kettle is still hot for tea."

He nodded and looked out the window intermittently while he searched for the last of their potatoes and onions to fry up with a few cracked eggs. "Do you happen to remember how much land on the other side of the garden wall belongs to us?"

"Hermione found the deed paperwork when she was living here with me, it is half an acre on either side that stretches the length of the property, so given the length of the property it is about fifty feet."

"And do you have plans to expand the flower garden?"

She stilled in her work and looked over at him. "No, why?"

He held up the potato and onion he was about to cut up. "Because we could easily be growing these ourselves."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Easily, you say? As in we could easily get our hands on a few oxen and a plow to till the soil on either side and then easily procure enough potatoes and onions to have enough to plant to take over those fifty feet on either side?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, unamused by how she was taking his suggestion as an affront to how she had run things in his absence. "Now that I'm back and in need of things to fill my day, yes. I'll be meeting the other people in the village today, I may be able to beg, borrow or barter a way to make renting oxen and a plow feasible."

"And have you ever farmed before?"

"No," he admitted honestly. "But you have, and I'm sure you won't have any issues with telling me off for doing something wrong."

She grinned at him then. "That is true."

"And perhaps we could send word to your mother or brother to come down and teach me a thing or two if you believe you will be too busy to supervise me."

"Or we could do the reverse as they are already on a farm that needs plowing and planting and you could learn that way," she pointed out. And it was a very reasonable suggestion. "And given the ground around here I think we'd need to get a hog or two and make a pen for them before even attempting to make the ground tillable. As it is there are several rocks, large and small, in the ground and we'd be likely to break any plow we borrow."

"See, this is why we make a good team, I give the smallest suggestion and you tell what I need to do in order to not mess it up and make a fool of myself."

She offered him another smile then and a shake of her head.

An hour later they were both done with their breakfast, he had washed up the dishes, quickly took care of the animals, laid them out on the cart and was washed up and dressed and ready to go to market.

"I feel so uncomfortable in clothes now," he told her as he adjusted to the feeling of the fabric against his skin once more.

"It is the same for me. And tomorrow we will need to be dressed all day and on the road. At least today it is only for a few hours."

"Can I just say how much I've been enjoying this home you've made for us?"

"And I've been enjoying how you haven't turned out to be a sour and miserable prick."

He tipped his invisible hat at her over the compliment and started pulling the cart behind him as he followed her lead to the village.

The number of people they passed on their one mile walk into town grew progressively larger the closer they got to the center of the village and Harry couldn't help noticing just how large the female population of the village was. There were a few men that they had passed, but, as Ginny had told him, they were mostly older and most of them had simply been seated outside their homes and having a smoke or whittling something to keep themselves busy.

"These homes do all look to be in good repair," he commented to his wife as they passed yet another home with a water tower visible.

"It's like I said, we took care of things ourselves and lived quite peaceably while we took care of each other," she told him while she waved at a woman they were passing that had a full basket on her arm.

"I'd like to say that I'm glad we were off fighting for something, but I'm still not quite sure what it was the war was about. There was only so much information we were given and a lot of it was likely propaganda to keep us doing as we were told."

"I should hope that the leaders of the country were under a real threat considering all they forced everyone to go through." She too didn't sound convinced though. Her face lit up when she saw a little one come out from behind her mother's skirt and rush over to her. "Molly!" Ginny squealed with delight and rushed to meet her little niece halfway, then picked her up and spun her around once and hugged her close.

Harry grinned at the sight of his wife with a child. The little girl was gorgeous with her long, curly red hair that was bonnet free today.

"It has been over a week since I've seen you," Molly's mother scolded as she came over. "I thought you might at least stop by the school at some point to tell me how things are getting on." Her eyes then turned to him. "Oh!" Then she looked down at the cart he was pulling. "Oh?" She looked back at Ginny with inquiring eyes.

"Hello," Harry greeted her. He set the cart down and held out a hand. "I'm Harry."

"Hermione," she said, holding her own hand out. "And this is Molly," she said of her daughter.

"Ginny has been telling me stories about the two of you. I'm glad she had some family around after I stuck her in the middle of nowhere."

"Well, at least you were aware you did that. And I appreciated having somewhere to go when I needed a place. I was useless to my Mother-in-Law on the farm."

"And very much needed here," Ginny told her.

"And you're staying then?" Hermione asked him, essentially ignoring Ginny. "Not kicking her out or looking to change everyone's way of life?"

"We've been getting along perfectly," Ginny told her strongly. "It's why you haven't seen me for a while."

The two ladies shared a silent exchange and he simply stood there watching, then Hermione nodded and regarded him once more. "Can you tell me anything about how long it is taking to get the soldiers back home?"

It was a quick change of subject, but he remembered that she was still waiting for her husband to return home and that they were a love match.

"I know that there were troops all over France, defending the borders. I wasn't far from the fight, but I also wasn't far from the seaport that brought us back either." He picked the cart back up then and Ginny led the way to where he needed to set up the cart while he told Hermione all he could about where everyone had been ordered to go when they were off the ships; hospitals, convalescent stations, military offices. He had been one of the lucky few that kept his paperwork in his pocket and didn't have any injuries to be looked after by the time they were off the ship. He simply needed a stamp on his papers and was sent on his way.

Hermione listened with rapt attention to every detail and asked several questions that he had no answers to while Ginny took an empty basket from the cart and loaded it up, taking Molly with her free hand to start distributing and trading with the other carts in the town.

A few other women in the village came over to ask him the same questions that Hermione had. It seemed he was the first one back from the war in the village so everyone was asking if they had come across their husbands or brothers and if he knew where they might be.

"I feel like I met half the village today," he groaned as they headed back home after all they'd gone to do was done. The cart was loaded now with fresh milk and food, Ginny had taken care of all the exchanges because he'd been too busy talking with everyone to assist her.

"You did meet half the village today. And I think you gave a lot of the women hope. I didn't realize that the reason you'd made it back here so quickly was because you kept your paperwork on you."

"To tell the truth, I don't know how much that expedited things. The men in charge of sorting us all probably would have taken one look at someone that still had all their parts and taken their word for it as to what their name was and where they'd been stationed. The building we were in was completely packed full of soldiers returning and the paper pushers were too busy to care what the truth was."

"So, you don't think that my brother could be getting held up because he very likely lost his paperwork?"

"Er…" He didn't know what to tell her then. It was likely that he was either being held up because he was injured or simply hadn't made it back to England yet.

"Teddy!" Ginny called out suddenly, looking out into the bushes beside the road. "Teddy, I saw you! Come on out now and tell me what you're sneaking around for."

Harry looked over to where his wife was shouting and saw a boy that couldn't be more than eight coming out of the bushes looking sheepish.

"Out with it, Teddy. When was the last time you ate something?" Ginny demanded.

"I've eaten!" the little boy protested. "I can look after myself!"

Her shoulders lost some of the firmness they'd held. "I know you can, I just wish you'd ask for what it is you're feeding yourself with instead of taking it. So, come on then, what is it you're stalking the passers by for?"

"I wouldn't steal from you!" he assured her.

"Not anymore you mean."

"You stole from her?" Harry nearly shouted at him.

Ginny put her hand on his shoulder. "Teddy here is orphaned and everyone in the village is trying to help him, but he's stubborn." She returned her attention solely to Teddy then. "You've had offers of rooms from several people, why won't you just accept one? You don't have to sleep at the schoolhouse."

"I had a mother, I don't need another one."

"If you won't accept a room then you'd better start accepting offers of food because once all the men start returning there's only so much we can do before you wind up getting one of your hands cut off for thieving."

"Fine! Then can I please have some cheese and bread?"

"There now, was that so hard?" she asked and broke off a piece of the wheel of cheese and half a loaf of one of the many loaves of bread they had just traded two rabbits and three different bottles of Ginny's soap for. "Eat this and go play or something. It's market day, there are all kinds of other kids about."

"Thanks Miss Ginny!" he said brightly and took off running back down the road.

"He stole from you?" Harry asked her as they resumed their way home.

"I found him poking around the garden one day with a wedge of bread he'd taken from the kitchen. I think he was trying to find some berries to go with his breakfast. I told him off then as I did now, I'm hoping he sorts his manners out soon enough. His mother died two years ago and anyone that tried to take him in would find an empty bed in the morning. Hermione found him camped out at the back of the school room and we all just let him stay there because at least he's indoors and getting some learning into that thick skull of his."

"Did you ever offer him the spare room at ours?" he asked out of curiosity.

"Yes, right after Hermione and Molly moved into their home, but he wouldn't take it."

"I'd imagine he thinks if he gets attached to another person that they'll eventually be taken away from him too."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience."

"I am. I may have been very young when my parents died, and I may not have liked my aunt and uncle, but it was a better option than sleeping on the street. And I was very grateful when they sent me away to school. I wouldn't have wanted to wind up in a house with someone I might potentially wind up loving."

"And what about now?" she asked.

He regarded her with surprise at that question. And then he understood why she'd asked.

Theirs was not a love match and he wasn't a wistful romantic so even though they had been getting on perfectly well since his second day back at his new home, that did not mean they loved each other. Not even the fact that they were now sharing a bed did that mean that they loved each other. Right now they were simply getting on and trying to make things work as man and wife.

"I think it might be nice now to have a home with someone I love. And don't think that isn't something I'm working on."

His answer appeared to satisfy her.

"And what about you?" he asked. "We've agreed on wanting family, we've been working on that, and you appear to like me well enough."

"I suppose time will tell for the both of us," she offered with a smile.

()()()

A week after they had delivered the inventory of soaps to the hotel Ginny sent a letter to her mother at the farm about Harry and she coming up to help with harvesting and seeding so he could get some experience. Then a week after that they set off to the Weasley family farm.

Harry was looking forward to this, he wanted to learn as much as he could about farming. The only education he'd received was from books and war, nothing about being productive with the land. According to Ginny her family were farmers for generations and her brothers and mother knew all there was to know about working the land around their home and could grow anything from any type of soil, meanwhile, she had been taught more about flowers and herbs, which was why their garden at the cottage was so fruitful.

They took a ride on a wagon with a few others and hopped off after about ten hours of travel, by the time they reached her family home it was dark out but there was light shining through the windows.

"Hello all," Ginny greeted as she let herself through the front door.

"Oh! Ginny!" a woman called back excitedly as Harry maneuvered his way into the house with their bags. "Alright, you lot, grab your plates and shove down. That's it, make some room." There was the sound of several people moving around and by the time he looked up a short and sturdy woman was engulfing his wife in a hug. "And you must be Harry," she said, turning to him and giving him a small hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Well, come on in with you then. We've got some food still left over. I didn't know when you were going to be coming so there aren't any beds made up."

"That's alright, we can pull together something and sleep on the floor," Ginny responded as she followed behind her mother into the kitchen area. Harry followed behind Ginny and nodded to the table full of young boys and a ginger fellow that looked a bit older than him who was seated beside a woman with a baby in her lap.

"Ginny!" the man greeted her. "Don't mind me if I don't get up," he grinned.

"Urgh, that joke is getting old," the woman said and gave him a small smack on the arm.

"I'm sure it is," Ginny agreed. "You all will need to excuse our manners as well; it's been a long day and we're starving, so we'll get to the proper introductions after we've had a bite and something to drink."

He was grateful that she said it and not him, because he was not in the mood to carry on a conversation just then. Being as hungry as he currently was and knowing that he was going to be sleeping on the floor for the next several nights before taking that same long journey home was not putting him in the best of moods.

"Just take a seat and I'll get you two a bowl and perhaps a beer each as well."

"Oh, please," he couldn't help groaning. "I'm completely parched."

His mother-in-law was quick to provide and while he and Ginny ate and drank, the rest of the people around the table talked about what had gotten done that day and what was to be done tomorrow. The three young men that were seated at the table were farm hands that Mrs. Weasley had set up living in a single room bunk house on the property that she made sure were fed and cared for as though they were her own. The little baby was a boy named Arthur that was now old enough to be cutting teeth and would take to fussing if he wasn't being bounced on the knee of one of his parents. Charlie was Ginny's brother that had lost part of one of his legs, just below the knee, he was still able to ride a horse though and would go around with the boys to talk them through how to do things and see if they needed help. Charlie's wife Anna helped out with the boys as well when she wasn't busy in and around the house or assisting Molly, the matriarch, with their farm stand.

By the time his belly was full and his beer was drunk, Mrs. Weasley had sent the three young farm hands off to bed, all of whom appeared to regard her as a mother figure of their own.

He couldn't help but be a little jealous that even though these boys too were orphaned and not given the 'privilege' of schooling, that they still had a home, trade, and someone that cared for them watching over them with love like she did.

"Are you ready to answer questions about how the two of you are getting on?" Mrs. Weasley asked her daughter.

"So far, so good, Mum," Ginny answered for them.

"And are you proper man and wife now?" she pried.

Harry's eyes widened at the brazen question.

"We were proper man and wife before he left for the war," she replied. "I think what you're actually asking is if there will be any little Potter's running around soon enough."

"And? Will there be?"

The glare that Ginny gave her mother appeared to be answer enough for the woman.

"Good," she nodded. "It might have been forced on you, but if you can't find happiness in each other, then perhaps you might find it in your children."

"Why wouldn't we find happiness in each other?" Harry asked her, finding himself offended at the suggestion.

And his mother-in-law was ready with the answer, "Ginny's turned herself into a self-made woman. Not to say she didn't need the financial help from you initially, but she's got a business going now. There aren't too many men out there that would be alright with the wife being the one bringing in the income. Or did you have something lined up now you're done with the war? She's written that you've come here to learn to farm, because you don't know how."

He didn't know if she was looking to push his buttons to see what kind of a man he was but he was certainly not enjoying what she was implying.

"I may have spent more time in school instead of working in a trade before I was forced to go to war-"

"I've read a book before too," Mrs. Weasley cut him off, "it didn't teach me how to check if one of my cows was up the duff. Those schoolbooks are all about 'la-di-da' this and 'tra-la-la' that. They don't teach you anything about how to get things done."

"Why do you think I bought a place in the country instead of the city?" he clapped back at her. "I never wanted to be stuck at school, it was only due to my aunt and uncle forcing their wants and needs on me because their own son had died, and we wound up stuck with each other. I've been dreaming of getting back to that cottage and figuring out how to make myself useful. I was surprised to find that not only was the cottage in ship shape when I returned to it, but that my wife had built a profitable business in my absence. We're still getting to know each other and thus far I'm hoping she's as happy with me as I am with her, because she is self-made and I'm more than alright with that."

"And," Ginny jumped in, "he's already given several suggestions about how to expand my business and make it more profitable. We came here so he could learn about farming fields so he can work the land we have that is currently unused, and so that he could meet you all. But, if you're just going to be nasty to him because he was raised with different opportunities, then we'll leave in the morning."

"Oh, don't be like that," Charlie told her calmly. "She's just testing him, same as she did for Anna and Hermione."

"I don't recall her implying that Anna or Hermione should be finding you or Ron lacking because you can manage to provide for your family as it expands," Ginny argued.

"Expectations are different because you are the wife," her mother told her.

Harry turned that around on her. "Are you expecting that when your son Ron shows up, that his wife Hermione should stop working? She runs the schoolhouse in our village, I don't know if that is keeping her and little Molly solvent but they have got a roof over their heads at least. He'll be expected to figure out his place in our village then too. What will the conversation around your table be like for him?"

"Difference is that I know both of them, I don't know you," she told him.

"You seem to think you know me well enough to judge that I'm a poor fit to your family because I was educated before I was conscripted." He turned to Ginny then. "Maybe we should leave. I'll ask one of the neighbors if they need help and learn from them."

"Oh, there's no need for that," Charlie told him. "You can come around with me and the lads tomorrow and see how it's done. I think my mother just wants to make sure you realize that farming is hard work."

"Sure, because getting shot at was an absolute dream," Harry said as he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

Ginny put her hand on his knee. "Is the hostility over with?" she asked her mother.

Mrs. Weasley regarded the location of her daughters hand before giving a single nod, "so long as he's treating you right."

"Do you think I would stand for it if he wasn't?"

"No!" Charlie laughed. "You would have found a way to toss him in the sea by now and make it look like an accident."

Harry tried to resist the urge to smile as he thought back to their first twenty-four hours after his return; Ginny had been somewhat hostile with him then too. She hadn't been as open about it as her mother had just been, but she'd been very straight with him all the same.

"Is this a Weasley trait then?" he asked his new sister-in-law. "Did you get given food first, then interrogated after on first meeting?"

"I did," she smiled. "Of course, Charlie and I were quick to marry because we knew it was coming and just liked the look of each other, so when he brought me home I had just as many questions for the lot of them as they did for me. And mind you, I had more siblings to deal with than you do now."

"I can't imagine the other two brothers were as bad as whatever Ginny threw at you."

"Oh, I had Ginny and Hermione to deal with. Remember, Hermione and Ron were a love match, they got married straight away. The two of them asked me all kinds of probing questions about where I'd come from, how many boys I'd been with before, what I could do that was useful."

"You've proved to be very useful," Mrs. Weasley told her. "I was glad for all the company and help I could get while the boys were at war and Ginny was down at her new home with Hermione. Then, when Charlie came back and needed to get adjusted to his situation."

"Does that mean her talons will retract eventually?" Harry asked Ginny quietly.

"They'd better," she whispered back to him. "I'd never thought about how she was with my brothers wives, but I guess she did get like this with them too. Oh, and I think she still doesn't like Fleur, my oldest brother's new wife. That may be because she's French and convinced him to stay in France." She gave a small chuckle when she said this and he caught himself staring at her features because her smile was so endearing the way it was.

It was still too early on to know for sure but thought he might be falling in love with her.

The silence in the room drew his attention away from her and he realized the other three were quietly observing the two of them.

"Er, shall we make up a spot to sleep in the other room then?" he asked to break the silence. "I imagine it will be an early morning and we could use the rest after travelling all day."

The bed that was made up was essentially a large pile of blankets, then a quilt for them to pull over themselves. It wasn't very comfortable, but it was warm enough that he fell asleep and slept hard right through the night.

Mrs. Weasley didn't say much of anything to him that morning as she put out breakfast food on the table for everyone to help themselves. Harry didn't bother trying to converse with her, only offering a head nod in greeting. He was joined by the three boys that came in from the bunk house; they were all now between the ages of fifteen and eighteen and had been working on the farm for the past three years since the war started and the Weasley farm needed the help. Jack, Simon and Stuart were their names; Simon and Stuart were twins but not identical.

Once Charlie had joined them at the table and had his fill he led them all outside, the three boys all went immediately to grab their tools needed and headed into the field, Harry followed Charlie, watching the way he got around on his wooden leg and managed to navigate nearly effortlessly as he showed Harry the different crops that were being grown and where the animals were corralled and why; sheep grazing, cows fertilizing, chickens eating worms and grubs and such. He explained about crop rotations and when to harvest and why.

It was a lot of information that Harry wished he had a pen and paper to write it all down for future reference. He knew that Ginny had the gist of it down with the rabbits and chickens back at the cottage, but he would have liked to not need to refer to her every time he had a question with a potentially obvious answer.

Thankfully there was one part to working on a farm that he wasn't a complete dunce at, and that was riding. He'd learned how to ride at school and even done some rides without saddles during a few nighttime rule breaking stunts.

By day three of going around with Charlie and taking care of working the fields, Harry felt he was falling nicely into stride with his brother-in-law, and the three farm boys were talking to him more as they sat around and ate the lunch that Ginny would bring out to them at mid-day. He still didn't feel that he'd won over his mother-in-law though, she wasn't quite as cheery and caring with him like she was with the rest of the occupants of the house. It didn't bother him nearly as much as it was bothering Ginny though, he was used to not having affection. He still felt a strange sensation come over him when Ginny would reach for his hand or kiss him for no other reason than that she wanted to.

They were just finishing up their evening meal when Harry went out to use the outhouse and he heard Ginny starting in on her mother again about the way she was treating him; he wished she wouldn't. It would be nice if the matriarch decided he was good enough for her daughter but he still wasn't sure himself if he was. He was trying though, and he hoped that Molly Weasley would be able to tell how much he cared for his wife over time. Maybe by their next visit out, when hopefully they would have a child with them.

As he finished up in the outhouse there was the sound of someone coming toward it. There was usually a steady line up of people needing to use it after their evening meal, so he carried on to go around the side to the well pump to wash his hands and politely ignored whoever was heading to use it next.

"Who're you?" a man's voice asked.

Harry looked up in surprise, the man coming toward him hadn't been someone from their dinner table, it was someone in uniform, standing as though he couldn't put much weight on his left side, his right arm in a sling. Even in the dark Harry could tell that the man's hair was Weasley red.

"Ron?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. Who're you?"

Harry grinned and hastily wiped his hands on his trousers. "Everyone will be so happy to see you! I'm Harry, Ginny's husband." He stepped forward and held out his hand in greeting. Ron took a step back. "Are you okay?"

The light from the house was showing how ragged Ron's uniform now was, and he didn't have a pack with him. There was no sign of where he'd been for the last several months or how he'd come to find his way home.

"Your mother and siblings are just inside," Harry told him calmly. "Hermione and Molly aren't here, but they're okay."

"Molly?" he asked tiredly.

"Yes, Molly, your daughter. They're both okay, they moved away to live with Ginny at our cottage after we were shipped out to war-"

Ron dropped to his knees then and started shaking.

Harry had heard about soldiers coming back like this. Ron must have been in a much worse situation than he was; he had shell shock.

"Ron," Harry said quietly, "you're home now. You don't ever have to go back. You're back on the farm. Your mother and sister and brother are going to be so happy to see you. They're going to get you new clothes to change into and you are going to have a big meal and a really good nights sleep." He was telling him all the things that he himself had wanted to hear when he was on the battlefield and dreaming of comfort.

"I'm home," Ron whispered.

"You're home."

"No one will come to take me away?"

Take him away? Harry wondered. Ginny had told him Ron had been quick to marry Hermione and spend some quality time with her before going to the war office to be shipped out, he hadn't been frog marched away. That meant that the reason for Ron's delay in returning home wasn't because he had been stalled at the frontlines somewhere farther south, he'd been a prisoner of war.

Shit.

"No one," Harry assured him. "Do you want me to go and get someone? I can-"

Ron clutched at Harry's trousers to stop him from moving. "I don't want them to see me like this."

Harry took a deep breath and looked around. If they stayed where they were for much longer someone was bound to come out and find them. "Come on," he encouraged Ron up to his feet. "We'll go into the bunk house and see if we can fit you into any of Jack's clothes. Are you okay if I help you get there?"

The subtle movement of Ron's head told him he was okay with it.

Shell shock wasn't something that the army was broadcasting to the public as a potential side effect of war but Harry knew about it from his studies, how soldiers could return as shells of who they once were, how loud noises or certain sights could send them right back to live out waking nightmares. He could understand Ron not wanting to have his family see him like this.

In the bunk house Harry found some clothes and turned around to let Ron have some privacy as he changed.

"You said Hermione and M-Molly aren't here?" Ron asked.

"No, they're back in our new village. Hermione is running the school house and little Molly is just a little ray of sunshine running around and trying to keep up with the older kids." He continued to tell him about the village, about the smells of fresh bread that mixed with the sea air during market days, about the plumbing that the women had rigged up at most of the houses so they could have hot baths after a rainstorm, anything he could think of that was nice imagery. "And that wife of yours, she's wonderful. You're a lucky man. We're both lucky men, that sister of yours; Ginny is incredible."

Ron came to stand beside him. Jack's clothes didn't quite fit on him, but Charlie's would. "I'm glad Hermione and M-Molly aren't here to see me right now. I don't think I'm ready to see them just yet."

Harry pointedly didn't look at him properly. "Ginny and I are here for about another week before we head back. A week is a good chunk of time to rest up and eat your mother's good food."

"A week?" He sounded nervous.

"It's been years since they've seen you," Harry reminded him. "They've been really worried, and little Molly has already grown since I've been back. You don't want to miss any more of her life."

He could see Ron shaking his head.

"You don't have to tell them the truth. You could say you were stuck in the south on the continent, that you had to recover there and lost your papers. That you had to keep looking for groups to travel with before you got here."

Now he saw Ron nodding.

Harry turned to look at him properly now, "you're tired and hungry, but you're so glad to see them all. Ask them questions about themselves, I'll try to keep the conversation off of where you've been."

Ron was still nodding.

"Okay then. Let's get you some food."

As he expected, the Weasley family seeing Ron again for the first time in years had them all breaking down in tears, and Harry kept a close eye on how Ron dealt with them all crowding around him for hugs. He jumped into the conversation a few times to steer it away from anything that might cause Ron to relive what he'd been through, which made his mother-in-law throw him a look of annoyance and his wife a look of curiosity.

Ron opted to come out into the field with Charlie and him the next day, keeping to himself mostly, just following them around. Charlie was great about giving Ron his space and Harry didn't say anything about the shell shock, he just kept on the way they had been before Ron showed up; doing as he was told and asking questions about the aspects of farming he still didn't fully grasp.

Two nights after he arrived back the farm the whole house awoke to Ron's screams. It had Harry bolting out of his and Ginny's makeshift bed and rushing to the other side of the main room where Ron was sleeping to try and quiet him as best he could. "You're home," he kept repeating, to no avail.

"What's going on?" Mrs. Weasley yelled as she came down the stairs, staring at her son in distress.

"Just stay back," Harry barked at her.

"Excuse you!"

Harry ignored her and kept his focus on Ron, trying to hold his arms down so he didn't get hit.

"Harry, what is it?" Ginny asked.

There was no other way he could think of to wake him up, so Harry smacked Ron across the face and Ron's eyes popped open in fear. "You're home!" Harry told him again. "The war is over. You're home."

"I'm home," Ron repeated.

"You're home. There's no gunfire, no guns. You are home, your stomach is full, you are comfortable and in your bed," Harry said calmly. "Do you see your mum behind me? Do you see your sister?"

"Yeah, yeah, I see them." Ron was still breathing heavily.

"Okay, then I need you to relax. Ginny, can you get him a cup of water?" Harry called over to her.

"What, what's happening?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"He's just… remembering," Harry told her. "You can go back to bed, I've got him."

"Here," Ginny held out the cup for Ron to take, which he did and drank it all down in one go.

"I'm home," Ron repeated.

"Yeah, you're home. There's nothing bad here. Soon, you'll be back with your wife and get to hold your daughter," Harry told him with a smile.

"Hermione and little Molly," Ron said softly as he relaxed even further into his blankets.

"Hermione and Molly," Harry nodded. "You think about them and close your eyes."

Everyone stayed right where they were until Ron started snoring, which didn't take long.

Harry let out a breath and then stood up.

"Harry," Ginny said softly and hugged his arm, "what was that?"

"He's just been through some trauma. He might not remember this in the morning and we probably shouldn't remind him about it either."

Mrs. Weasley was looking at him curiously. "Is it like this for you?"

"No. I wasn't stationed at the front, I think he was much more in the thick of it than I was."

"But you knew what to do. And you've been stopping us from asking him about it. I… I thought you were just being rude, but you were trying to help Ron."

His jaw clenched involuntarily in response.

His mother-in-law stepped forward then and gave him a hug, surprising him. "Thank you," she said when she pulled back and gave him a gentle pat on one of his cheeks before turning around and heading back up the stairs.

"I think you've just won over my mum," Ginny said and bumped her hip against his leg playfully.

Harry leaned over and placed a kiss on the top of her head and they went back to their own pile of blankets.

"How long do you think he'll be like this for?" she asked quietly as she was snuggled up against him.

"There's no knowing. He could be like this forever, could be that it gets easier with time." He stroked her hair absently, it had a calming effect on him to feel her tresses gliding through his fingers. "We will have to warn Hermione though. Maybe Ron should sleep on the floor beside their bed for a while, in case he has a nightmare and accidentally hits her."

Harry felt her breath come out in a slow huff against his chest as she realized the truth of that. "I'll talk to her about it, she might have a few follow up questions for you though."

"I'll tell her as much as I know, but I don't know much, only enough to recognize what it is."

()()()

By the time they left the Weasley farm, Ron had a bit more meat on his bones and was engaging more in conversations, yet there was still a look in his eyes that told Harry he wasn't fully living in the present; Ginny had certainly noticed the difference in him. It was clear to both Harry and Ginny that Ron was looking forward to seeing his wife and child.

It took three days to get back to their village this time, they all went straight to Hermione's home where Harry tried to help assemble food for them all as they had their tear-filled reunion.

Seeing Ron with his daughter in his lap, and the awe filled expression on his face as he stared at her, it looked like the little girl was doing more for helping with Ron's struggles than anything the rest of them could have tried.

It made Harry wonder when he and Ginny might be having a child of their own too.

It was a slow walk back to their cottage after saying a goodnight with only the glow of the moon and stars to guide them along the laneway, thankfully it was a clear sky night.

"Do you think he's going to be okay?" Ginny asked him once more about her brother.

"I think that they all have a bit of adjustment to go through, but they have a better foundation to their relationship than we did, and only time will tell for sure. Also, little Molly seems to already be doing wonders for him."

"Yeah." It was easy to hear the smile on her face as she agreed.

The sound of the rocks shifting under their feet sounded nice accompanied by the distant sea waves. Harry breathed in deeply and thought about how comfortable he was going to feel to get back to their home, and wondered how long it would be before they might be hearing the sound of cries waking them at night, but from a little one.

"Ginny?" She hummed in acknowledgment. "Do you, I mean, is there any way we might be able to find out," he stopped talking and wished he'd thought through how to ask this question before he opened his mouth. "It's just… seeing Ron and Hermione with Molly, it's just that, I want that."

"You're wondering how long it might be until we have a child?" she summed up.

"Yes. I'm a little surprised that we haven't had any results yet from our, er."

Ginny chuckled at him. "It takes a bit longer to make a baby than what you've been back for."

He was glad it was dark out because he blushed at that. "Yes, I realize how long women are pregnant for, but we would know by now if you were."

"Hmm, all that schooling and you still aren't able to tell whether or not your wife is pregnant?"

He stopped walking then and she was a few paces ahead of him before she too stopped to turn and look back at him. "Are you saying that you are?" He dropped their bags in surprise.

Ginny put down what she was carrying as well and came back to stand in front of him, then she took his hand and placed it on her stomach. "If this is where you are looking to find out if I'm pregnant then you wouldn't be able to tell." She moved his hand up to cup her breast and she winced. "However if you checked here, you'll notice that they are starting to get larger than they were when you first came home."

He hadn't noticed that her breasts were slightly larger before they left the cottage, which was the last time they'd seen each other naked, but he didn't remember her wincing when he touched them last.

"So, you're pregnant?!" he grinned.

"Not very far along, but yes."

"Really!" He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her tightly. "I'm so happy! I love you!" he said before kissing her.

"You what?" she asked after letting the kiss go on for a few moments. "Say that last bit again?"

He couldn't see her particularly well with only the night sky for brightness but he could see she was smiling.

If ever he was going to tell someone he loved them for the first time, it being his wife after finding out he was going to be a father seemed like the appropriate time; and he did love her.

"I love you," he repeated.

She grinned wider. "Well it's about fucking time you said something, because I love you too." She kissed him again. "And now let's get home so I can get out of these clothes."

And he loved her even more for saying that.

The next day they spent it naked doing chores around the house and in the yard while they set the water tower to heat up so they could share a hot bath at the end of the day and it felt incredible. He was able to see what she meant about her breasts being bigger as a sign of their child she was carrying, it made him smile every time he saw her.

As their days of naked bliss went on swimmingly before market day approached and she started teasing him every time he touched her about how they had to call it 'love making' now instead of sex and about how he wasn't going to make her doubly pregnant, so was it really necessary? He knew she was enjoying the way they were together now more than ever though, he could see it in the way she looked at him.

Ginny was collecting herbs for drying while Harry moved the animal cages around the yard and separated the ones for slaughter the next day when he heard a disgusted groan from their gate and turned his head sharply to see Ron standing there, staring at Harry completely in the buff.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Ron asked, looking completely bewildered.

Harry didn't even blush, he was in his yard, and it had a high enough stone wall around it that he and Ginny should be able to walk around in whatever state of dress they wanted.

"Working in my yard," he said as thought it was obvious.

"Why are you naked?!"

"Because I can be," Harry shrugged. "Pull me off a long shirt from the drying line if it makes you that uncomfortable."

"Hey Harry, how many spare rabbits would you say we- RON!" Ginny shouted from the doorway and darted back inside the house so her brother wouldn't see anymore of her than he already had.

"YOU'RE BOTH RUNNING AROUND YOUR YARD NAKED?!" Ron thundered.

"It is our yard," Harry pointed out again and made a point of walking calmly past Ron to get his long shirt himself. "Do you not realize how good it feels to be out in the buff? Nice breeze around your privates to keep you cool?"

Ginny came back outside, now with a slip dress on. "Ron, we clearly weren't expecting you. How are you?"

"I… I'm… incredibly puzzled."

"Well, that never took much, did it?" she teased and crossed her arms in front of herself.

To both the Potter's delight, Ron started laughing then. "I guess I'll need to ring the bell at the front gate from now on."

"That is what it's there for," Ginny chuckled.

"Wait until I tell Hermione about this," Ron grinned.

"Oh, she already knows. You should have seen how happy she was wandering around the garden with her big pregnant belly, completely satisfied to not be wearing any clothes. She's admitted she misses it since she moved into the village."

"My wife was wandering around your yard naked?" Ron sounded intrigued by the thought.

"Maybe you and she should look into purchasing some land just outside the village as well," Harry offered as an idea, along with a cup of ale for him. "And if you're too uncomfortable at the thought of being out in the sunshine in the buff, you should at least try sleeping that way, it's a bloody dream."

"That one I'm familiar with," Ron said, his cup held up in salute at the suggestion.

"Are you comfortable at the house Hermione chose?" Ginny asked sincerely.

"I am. I don't think we'll stay there forever, but for right now it's just the size we need."

"And you've been sleeping alright?" Harry asked with concern.

A faint smile crossed Ron's lips. "Better than I have in ages. I still wake up startled sometimes, but Hermione's there and she's got a great way of getting my head back on right," he smirked.

"Sounds like there might be new Potter's and Weasley's running around shortly," Harry grinned and took Ginny's hand.

"That's great!" Ron gave another cheers with his cup. "Mum'll be thrilled to find out."

"It's too soon for that," Ginny warned. "I'll write her in another month when we're doubly sure."

Harry was still grinning as he pictured having a bunch of little ones running around the village, his kids being taught in the schoolhouse by their aunt, maybe his brother-in-law helping him get the land ready for farming on either side of his property, his wife gently scolding them for something with her hands on her hips, maybe her belly swollen with another Potter baby on the way.

It all seemed so wonderful, and it was going to be a reality!

()()()