From Across the Great Divide, Chapter 11
Rated: R
Summary: A post-Hogwarts H/G fic. Strange circumstances draw Harry and Ginny closer together. But are they in danger? Romance, adventure, Monty Python, and tartan boxer shorts abound.
Ginny returned to her cottage late in the afternoon to find it empty. A quick glance told her that things looked as if Harry hadn’t come back at all. Going into the kitchen to heat some water for tea, Ginny saw that the dirty breakfast dishes were still in the sink. Impatiently, she waved her wand at them, and they began to wash themselves.
When her tea was ready, she sat down in the living room and took a sip from her mug. Where was Harry? It couldn’t have taken him this long to take the books back to the library. She was still annoyed with him for walking out earlier; it had seemed as if he’d been running away. She looked over at Hedwig in her cage by the window. "I wish you could talk. You could tell me what Harry’s been up to."
Hedwig could only hoot in reply, but it sounded as if she were commiserating.
Ginny kicked off her shoes and put her feet up on the coffee table, as she continued to sip at her tea. Suddenly, the front door flew open, and Harry came storming in. He was breathing hard as if he’d been running, his hair was practically standing on end, and his eyes had a wild look to them. Ginny stood up, and they stared at each other for a moment. She saw relief spread over his features. Then he came towards her, and, before she had time to say anything, she found herself crushed against him. After a moment, she pushed at him. "Harry, I can hardly breathe."
He loosened his hold on her then. He stood back, his hands on her shoulders, and stared at her, still trying to catch his breath. His face had now lost its relieved expression; now he looked rather put out. "Thank God! Where the hell were you?" he demanded, at last. "I came back, and you weren’t here…and I thought… I thought…"
"You thought what?" Ginny began to feel even more annoyed. Just what was he on about?
"How can you ask that? Didn’t those death threats you’ve received leave an impression on you?" His hands slid from her shoulders to grasp her by the upper arms. She gaped at him, unable to believe what she was hearing.
"Death threats? When the hell did I ever receive a death threat? Just this morning I told my own father that my safety hadn’t been threatened, and you didn’t say a word! And now you’re going on about bloody death threats?" Her voice was rising along with her temper.
"You only told him that so he wouldn’t be so worried."
That much was true. Ginny gave an exasperated sigh. "Well, yes," she was forced to admit, "but this is the first time you’ve ever brought up anything about a death threat in front of me."
"I thought it went without saying. Anyway, what was I supposed to think, when I came back and found you gone? There was no note, nothing! I couldn’t have taken it if…" He paused here. He must have realised he was shouting now. Ginny couldn’t ever remember hearing Harry raise his voice in anger. His face was flushed, and his hands were gripping her harder than ever.
"If you can’t even accept that you’re in danger," he began again, "how can you possibly take care of yourself?"
Ginny gasped, as the words echoed in the air between them. How dare he treat her as if she were a child? Why, he was no better than her mother! A wave of anger and pain washed over her as this realisation struck. She narrowed her eyes at him, as she brought up her hand and slowly began to peel his fingers away from her arms one at a time. By now, they were gripping hard enough to leave bruises.
"I don’t need someone to look after me. I’m not a child any more." She said this in a quiet but firm tone, one that belied her anger at his presumption. In spite of herself, she felt tears begin to well up. She turned away from him, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
"Ginny, I…" His tone was quieter now, too. She felt a hand touch her shoulder, but this only enraged her further. Her head and heart were both pounding now. He was making her feel as if she were twelve years old and still needed rescuing. An image came to her mind unbidden, a memory of a seventh year Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, when she’d been the only one in her class to successfully conjure a Patronus. Her Patronus had been Harry himself, a fact which had seemed completely embarrassing at the time. Now the image came back in full force, mocking her.
She whirled around to face him. "No, Harry," she spat. "I don’t need anyone, and I sure as hell don’t need you! I can bloody well look after myself!"
"But…"
"Get out," she said, dully.
"Gin…"
Ginny didn’t want to hear any more. "Go!"
He stood looking stricken, as if she’d done him physical violence. Suddenly, it appeared to her as if he were the child now. She could see in him the lost eleven-year-old boy who didn’t know how to access Platform 9 ¾. She saw hurt in his eyes, and she quickly looked away. She couldn’t face the thought that she’d hurt him, no matter what he’d just been saying to her.
"Just go," she repeated. She turned away to stare intently at the wall, a silent tear escaping to course down her cheek. She swiped angrily at her eyes before another could fall. She didn’t turn around until she’d heard the front door close softly behind her. Looking around her living room, she noticed Harry’s things lying about. They seemed to clutter up the room, where before she’d given them little thought. She walked over to where he’d left his weights on the floor and gave one of them a kick, but she only succeeded in stubbing her toe - she’d forgotten she’d taken her shoes off earlier. She swore to herself and went into the kitchen to pour out her tea which had gone cold.
*
Ginny looked at the bewildering array of joke paraphernalia on the shelves in front of her and sighed. There was more to working in her brothers’ shop than she’d thought. Although Fred had given her some sort of memory-enhancing potion (which she’d taken with a certain amount of suspicion, since she wasn’t sure of the legality of such things, on top of her brothers’ reputation) to help her learn faster that morning when she’d reported for work, she still had trouble locating items for customers. Even knowing Fred was nearby in case she needed help did not make the job seem less daunting. At the moment she was trying to find Black Soap (guaranteed to grow live fungus on the user’s hands). She couldn’t imagine why people would even want some of the items sold. There were comedy hernia kits, fake vomit, skunk juice that didn’t wash off for days, realistic-looking flesh wound kits … All of it "guaranteed to break the ice at parties". Ginny didn’t know who had more twisted minds, her brothers for inventing the stuff, or their customers for buying it. She breathed a sigh of relief, as she finally found what she was looking for next to the boxes of Boiling Bath powder.
On top of all that, Ginny was finding it necessary to learn the prices of things off by heart in order to better answer customers’ questions, and there was some sort of mysterious private collection. Fred had told her to send any customers who asked about it to see him. Ginny didn’t even want to ask about what sort of items the private collection contained.
It didn’t help matters that she was starting her new job on very little sleep. The argument she’d had with Harry was affecting her more than she liked to admit. His reaction to her absence had seemed rather extreme to her, but she’d spent some time thinking about it, and had reached a few conclusions. For one, she realised she should at least have left him a note. She was ready to apologise on that score. For another, she recognised that he’d been in a state of panic, which she was able to look upon as rather touching once her own anger had faded. She also thought that he really must care for her a great deal to get himself into such a state. Her stomach gave a funny little lurch each time this idea entered her mind. She wasn’t sure she was ready to forgive him for treating her like a child just yet, though. A lot would hinge on what he said to her the next time they saw each other. It sobered her to think she didn’t know when, exactly, that would be. She’d discovered she’d got used to him being there. Her house had seemed very lonely this morning when she’d taken her breakfast alone.
The sound of a bell brought her out of her thoughts. A new customer must have entered the shop. She looked up to see a tall, thin man with sloping shoulders, glasses and a rather weak chin. Ginny did not like the appraising look he gave her, but he was a customer, and she reminded herself she must treat him as such. Forcing herself to smile, she asked in what she hoped was a bright voice, "Good afternoon. May I help you?"
"Yes, you most certainly may," he answered in a rather oily voice. "Are you new? I don’t believe I’ve seen you in here before."
Ginny was liking this less and less. There was something in the man’s manner…"Yes, I am. It’s my first day. Now is there anything I can do for you?"
"I’m sure there is," he said in an insinuating tone. "I’d like something from the, erm, private collection."
"Oh, well, you’ll have to ask Fred about that." She nodded in her brother’s direction. He was already waiting on another customer. "He’ll be with you directly."
The man positively leered at her. "I think I’d like for you to show me the private collection, if you don’t mind." Now Ginny was sure she didn’t want to know what was in the private collection. She heard the bell tinkle again, and looked up to see that Fred was finished with his customer.
"I’m sorry, I’m not allowed to do that. Fred will be happy to serve you." She turned to wave Fred over, but a hand on her arm stopped her. She cringed at the man’s touch and looked him straight in the eye, ready to tell him off. Customer or no, she didn’t care at the moment, but just then Fred came over to them, his facial expression one of distaste. The man took his hand off Ginny’s arm.
"Is there a problem here, Ginny?"
"This man insists on seeing the private collection. Why don’t you take care of it, Fred?"
"Oh, I’ll be glad to. But first, I should introduce you. Ginny, this is Richard Bradley, a very loyal customer. Richard, this is my sister Ginny Weasley." Fred said the word "sister" in such a way as to serve as a warning for Richard to back off. Then the two men headed for the back of the shop.
Ginny let out a long breath. She hoped that she wouldn’t have to deal with customers like him very often. She knew she would find it difficult to treat them very nicely for long. Looking at the clock on the wall, she saw it was almost closing time. She breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a long day. Reluctantly, she remembered that she’d be going home to an empty house…
The bell rang again, and she steeled herself to face another customer. But when she looked in the direction of the door, she saw that Harry had entered the shop. She thought he looked repentant; she sincerely hoped he was, because the moment she looked into his eyes, she knew she didn’t want to row with him. Not wanting to make things too easy for him, she schooled her features into a neutral expression.
"Hello, Harry. What brings you by?"
"I think I owe you an explanation. Is there anywhere we can go to talk?"
"If you wait a few minutes, I’ll be finished for the day…" She felt herself begin to smile, and saw a hopeful look come into Harry’s eyes. Then he was holding out something in his hand. She looked down and saw a small, box wrapped in cream coloured paper and tied with a ribbon.
"What’s this?" she asked curiously.
Harry began to grin. "Belgian chocolates. A sort of peace offering…"
Ginny looked into his eyes and grinned back.
"Oy! Take it somewhere else! Preferably out of my sight." Fred had just come to the front of the shop. Over Harry’s shoulder, Ginny saw Richard Bradley go out into Diagon Alley. "I suppose I can let you go for the day, Gin," Fred continued. "We’ll show you how to close up tomorrow."
Harry and Ginny said good evening to Fred, and Ginny started towards the back exit. "Let’s go out through the alley, Harry. I don’t want to run into that man again."
Harry turned to look at the door through which Bradley had left the shop. "Why?" he asked.
"There’s something I don’t like about him. Let’s just leave it at that."
They went into the alley behind the shop. "Where to, then?" Harry asked quietly.
"Hogsmeade," Ginny replied simply. She thought Harry looked relieved when she said that; she felt a certain amount of relief, herself.
"What about supper?"
"I’ll fix us something. Then we can talk."
And so they went back to Ginny’s cottage. Ginny changed out of the robes she’d worn to work and went into the kitchen to prepare supper. Harry insisted on helping, so she set him to making salad. She had the impression he was reluctant to let her out of his sight. Rather than being annoyed with him for hovering, the idea caused a feeling of warmth to spread through her. It was as if something had changed about him since yesterday morning, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.
They sat down at the table with their plates of food. Harry took a deep breath and began to apologise immediately. "I’m sorry for what I said to you yesterday, Ginny. There was no excuse for that. I came back from Hogwarts, and you were nowhere to be found, and, well, I just panicked. I imagined all sorts of horrible things had happened to you…"
Ginny cut him off here. "I owe you an apology, as well. I should have left you a note. It’s just that I’m used to living alone, and I just wasn’t thinking. If I’d had any idea you were going to react that way, I would have thought twice. But where did you go? When I came home yesterday, you’d gone out again…"
"Yes, I’d been here and gone again. For what it’s worth, I didn’t leave you a note either. But I was looking for you, wasn’t I? Or at least looking for clues…"
"Clues?"
"I looked all over the house first, and when I didn’t find anything, I went back to Hogwarts…" Ginny was perplexed. Why would he have been looking at Hogwarts? The question must have shown in her face, for Harry continued. "Yesterday, when I took the books back to the library, I ran into someone unexpected. Draco Malfoy."
"Malfoy? I thought he was dead."
"Yes, he is. I saw his ghost, though. And his ghost said something rather cryptic to me. I discounted it at the time, but when I came back here and found you gone, I wasn’t so sure, so I went back to find him. I was just as angry at myself for ignoring Malfoy. What if something had happened to you, and he was trying to warn me?"
This was getting more and more curious. "What did he say to you?"
"Something about his father, and that perhaps he’d be able to tell me something useful. I thought he was having me on. How could he have known I’d turn up at Hogwarts yesterday, after all? But it doesn’t matter. I couldn’t find him when I went back to look."
"So you think he may know something about whoever’s been threatening me?"
"I don’t know. He may, and I intend to find out. Think about it: we know there are likely Death Eaters involved in this, and his father was in the inner circle. He told me he’d been haunting Lucius. If Lucius is tied in with this, Draco may know something. I just need to figure out how one goes about finding a ghost. I don’t think a Summoning Charm will do it. But enough about that. Could you tell me one thing? Where did you go yesterday?"
"I went to visit my friend, Pauline. She called me through the fire right after you went out, and I decided I needed to get out, myself. I’m sorry about not letting you know, but I honestly didn’t think I’d be gone so long. Now I’d like you to tell me something. Where did you go last night?"
Harry reddened and mumbled something Ginny couldn’t hear. "I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that."
Harry cleared his throat. "I said, I spent last night sleeping in your garden." Ginny gaped at him, and then burst out laughing. The warm feeling was spreading through her once more. "I don’t see how it’s so funny," Harry added, in a slightly irritated tone. "The ground out there isn’t exactly comfortable. I’m hoping you’ll forgive me for what I said yesterday so I can have my sofa back."
Ginny reached out and took his hand. She was thankful he was making this easy for her. She really did want to forgive him. "I think I can do that. Can’t have you sleeping on the ground, you might get a cramp." She watched Harry’s jaw drop, but she went on as if she were simply talking about the weather. "Do you mind doing the washing up?" She got up from the table and went into the living room, leaving him to gape after her.
Sitting down on the sofa, she took out her box of chocolates, opened and inspected them carefully. She’d lived too long with several mischievous older brothers to accept anything new to eat on faith. Deciding she ought to be safe, she chose one and took a bite. It was delicious. She finished it with relish, and tried another. Then she got up, feeling restless. Music, yes. That’s what she needed. Something calming. She went over to look through her CDs.
She settled on her new Sarah McLachlan; that was mainly quiet and calming. She put the CD in her player and tapped it with her wand to start the music. As she did so, she felt Harry slip up behind her and put his arms around her waist. He rested his cheek against the top of her head for a moment, then she felt him bring up a hand to push her hair aside and plant soft kisses on the nape of her neck. Ginny’s knees turned to jelly, but at the same time she wanted to scream. This was doing nothing to ease the feeling if awareness that had been growing in her ever since they’d got home; it was making it fall all the more heavily over her.
She turned in his embrace, and he drew her in, starting to slowly dance to the sultry music. Her restlessness increased, as the words of the refrain washed over her:
…Kiss you so hard
I’ll take your breath away
And after I’d wipe away the tears,
Just close your eyes dear…
She knew Harry was just as aware of the lyrics as she was, because he stopped dancing and looked down into her eyes. Then his lips were on hers, and she knew she was lost. She leaned into the kiss and pressed her body against his. She had to; she wouldn’t have been able to stand otherwise. She gasped as his lips found the spot on her neck where her pulse was now pounding out of control. She felt his teeth graze an earlobe, then his mouth was devouring hers again.
Harry moved his hand from her waist to gently cup one of her breasts. Ginny stiffened slightly. As much as she had wanted him to touch her, as much as she enjoyed it, it still came as a surprise to her, because he had been holding back for so long. Harry ceased his exploration of her mouth and leaned his forehead against hers. She could see that his pupils were dilated, their green irises shrunk to barely perceptible rings. He moved his hand back down to her waist, gripping tightly. He swallowed once, trying to bring his breathing under control. "Ginny," he whispered in a lowered timbre, "I want to make love to you." He punctuated this statement by pushing his hips against her so she could not mistake the effect she had on him.
Ginny tried unsuccessfully to bring her own thoughts into focus; she found it impossible to concentrate on formulating a coherent response. Finally she got out, "I never have before." She was surprised to hear the husky quality in her own voice.
"Let me teach you."
Ginny was just barely able to force the word "yes" from her mouth, when his lips descended on hers again. He brought his hand back to her breast, the thumb brushing over its tip, causing her to arch against him. Harry broke off the kiss and brought her right palm to his mouth. She felt his lips and then his tongue trace a line along its centre. Then he took her by that hand and led her into the bedroom.
He laid his glasses on the night table. Then he turned back to her, and his lips descended on hers once more, as his fingers began to work at the buttons of her blouse. She could feel them tremble slightly as one by one each button was freed. "Can he be nervous?" she asked herself. Ginny herself felt surprisingly calm. There was something so right about this somehow.
That thought emboldened her, and suddenly her hands were itching to touch him. She brought them up and ran them softly over the back of his neck, into his hair, and then down over his shoulders and chest. The sound that he made in his throat at this was decidedly animal, but it only made her feel even more audacious. Then he was staring at her, a wicked-looking grin taking over his features. "I don’t believe I’ll have to teach you much at all," he whispered as the last button of her blouse was released.
He pushed the blouse back from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor, revealing a silken camisole. He grasped the straps with his fingers and began to lower them, as his lips began to trace a sensual path along her neck and then further downward.
Ginny cried out, and then she felt herself toppling backwards. Unbeknownst to her, Harry had been slowly backing her towards the bed, and she landed on mattress with a surprised giggle. Then he was lying on top of her, kissing her again, as her fingers worked their way underneath his shirt. He paused for a moment to pull off the offending garment, and when he lay atop her again, the skin to skin contact made her cry out again.
She heard Harry chuckle. Looking up at him in the moonlight that filtered in through the window, she could see that the wicked grin was back. Then his lips were back at her neck again, while his hands moved lower down her body. She gasped as his lips, tongue and teeth soon followed the path his hands had blazed, and his hands moved lower still to work at the fastening of her jeans. All her senses were strangely heightened now, and she shivered as she felt cool air on her thighs.
Harry stepped back and gazed down at her. Although she knew she was completely naked now before him, and that he could see it, bathed in the moonlight as she was, she felt completely unabashed. There was something in his gaze that made her feel cherished, and the tone of his voice, when he spoke, only confirmed that feeling. "Ginny," he said in a very hoarse but almost reverential tone, "you’re so beautiful. More than I could have imagined. I feel as if I’ve waited my whole life for this." He stretched out beside her on the bed and ran a tender finger along her jaw line. He leaned down and kissed her very softly, at first, before the passion took over again, and his kiss became hungrier.
Ginny shuddered under his touch as it became ever more intimate. Soon there was almost nowhere on her body that his hands hadn’t caressed, that his lips hadn’t kissed. There seemed to be a knot of pleasure building inside her, growing ever larger yet ever tighter, and when it burst, it took her by surprise, and she cried out his name.
At some point, Ginny had no idea when, Harry had managed to shed his trousers, and he now lay atop her completely naked as she. He leaned down to kiss her lips again, and she could feel power in him barely suppressed; he was trembling with it. He reached down and caressed her thigh, raising her knee when he reached it, inviting her to wrap her legs around his waist. He tried to take her carefully, she thought, although the pain of his entry made her gasp and wince slightly. She felt a hand touch her cheek. "I’m sorry," he whispered. She could hear his fight for control in his tone. She reached up to bring his mouth down to hers, and in so doing caused their bodies to shift. This was obviously the limit of Harry’s control, for now he began to move, but the pain was gone now; there was only the pleasure that began to build again. At last, she felt him tense over her, heard him cry out, saw his face contort, and she knew he must be experiencing the same pleasure that she had. The knowledge that she could do that for him gave her an incredible sense of power.
He collapsed over her, kissing her with abandon. Then he relaxed and rolled off her, bringing her with him, enfolding her in his embrace. Slowly, Ginny spiralled back down to earth and felt sleep begin to overtake her.
"I love you, Harry."
The thought came unbidden to her mind. A split second later, she realised she must have whispered that thought aloud in the dark, because she felt Harry’s arms tighten around her, holding her tighter. Secure in his embrace, she drifted off to sleep.
*
The first thing Harry saw when he awoke the next morning was Ginny. She was lying asleep, her face at peace, her hair spread out on the pillow. Idly, Harry lifted a tendril of her hair and turned it around his finger. He felt a sense of amazement to be waking up next to her. Inevitably, he thought of the previous night and her generous response to him. She was so genuine, entirely without artifice, so unlike any other woman he had ever known.
Harry reached over and touched her cheek; Ginny stirred but did not wake. He thought back to Ron and Hermione’s wedding. "With my body I thee worship," they’d repeated to each other. Harry had always found this line odd. Until last night he’d never understood it, but now its full significance engulfed him like a wave. That’s what he’d done with Ginny, he’d worshipped her. It was as much a first for him as it had been for her.
Harry propped his head up on his hand, and looked down at her. He ran a gentle finger down the side of her face, then he leaned over and kissed her eyelids, cheeks, and finally her lips. Then he gazed at her beloved face once more. Beloved. He had a name now for the overwhelming rush of joy he felt to be here with her. He hadn’t been able to tell her the other day when he saw she was safe. He’d been far too panicked, and part of that panic had been the realisation that she could hold such power over him. But now he was ready. He couldn’t hold this back any more.
Ginny’s eyes were open now, slowly coming into focus, then their chocolate centres were looking steadily back at him. "Harry," she whispered, her cheeks beginning to stain.
Harry smiled at her. "Good morning." He reached for one of her hands and kissed it. "Ginny, last night you gave me a very precious gift, and I haven’t thanked you properly for it."
Ginny coloured further, but she continued to meet his gaze. "You mean my virginity," she said quietly.
"Yes, there was that, but that’s not what I was referring to. Two precious gifts, then. What I meant was your love."
"I don’t know where that came from, Harry. I didn’t even realise I’d said it out loud."
Harry’s heart began to pound. "Are you going to take it back then? Please don’t." He hoped he didn’t sound like he was begging.
Ginny reached up to him, and pulled his face toward hers. Her kiss was rather forceful. When she’d released him, she said, "No, I’m not going to take it back."
Harry felt a smile spread over his features. He thought it must be the biggest grin he’d ever had on his face, but he was past caring. "I’m glad, Ginny, because there’s something I need to tell you. It’s taken me nearly forever, but I’ve finally come to my senses. It’s been slowly dawning on me that I’ve been in love with you for the longest time, probably ever since sixth year."
Harry’s grin broadened even further, if that were possible, at her sharp intake of breath and her shocked expression. "Sixth year," she repeated in an incredulous whisper. "Sixth year," she said again a little louder. "And you never said anything…"
He became serious once more. "I couldn’t, Ginny, you know that."
"Yes, I do. But after the war, you went away…"
"I did. As much as I needed to leave, I regret that I had to leave you behind. I think I lost my way during that time, and it’s taken me too long to find it again. But I have now. It’s with you."
Ginny reached up to touch his cheek, her eyes steadily returning his gaze. "I think I’ve always known in my heart there was never anyone else but you." Harry’s own heart leapt to hear her. She brought her lips up to his, and soon the passion was rising between them once more. It was a long time before either of them considered getting out of bed.
Next Chapter
Summary: A post-Hogwarts H/G fic. Strange circumstances draw Harry and Ginny closer together. But are they in danger? Romance, adventure, Monty Python, and tartan boxer shorts abound.
Ginny returned to her cottage late in the afternoon to find it empty. A quick glance told her that things looked as if Harry hadn’t come back at all. Going into the kitchen to heat some water for tea, Ginny saw that the dirty breakfast dishes were still in the sink. Impatiently, she waved her wand at them, and they began to wash themselves.
When her tea was ready, she sat down in the living room and took a sip from her mug. Where was Harry? It couldn’t have taken him this long to take the books back to the library. She was still annoyed with him for walking out earlier; it had seemed as if he’d been running away. She looked over at Hedwig in her cage by the window. "I wish you could talk. You could tell me what Harry’s been up to."
Hedwig could only hoot in reply, but it sounded as if she were commiserating.
Ginny kicked off her shoes and put her feet up on the coffee table, as she continued to sip at her tea. Suddenly, the front door flew open, and Harry came storming in. He was breathing hard as if he’d been running, his hair was practically standing on end, and his eyes had a wild look to them. Ginny stood up, and they stared at each other for a moment. She saw relief spread over his features. Then he came towards her, and, before she had time to say anything, she found herself crushed against him. After a moment, she pushed at him. "Harry, I can hardly breathe."
He loosened his hold on her then. He stood back, his hands on her shoulders, and stared at her, still trying to catch his breath. His face had now lost its relieved expression; now he looked rather put out. "Thank God! Where the hell were you?" he demanded, at last. "I came back, and you weren’t here…and I thought… I thought…"
"You thought what?" Ginny began to feel even more annoyed. Just what was he on about?
"How can you ask that? Didn’t those death threats you’ve received leave an impression on you?" His hands slid from her shoulders to grasp her by the upper arms. She gaped at him, unable to believe what she was hearing.
"Death threats? When the hell did I ever receive a death threat? Just this morning I told my own father that my safety hadn’t been threatened, and you didn’t say a word! And now you’re going on about bloody death threats?" Her voice was rising along with her temper.
"You only told him that so he wouldn’t be so worried."
That much was true. Ginny gave an exasperated sigh. "Well, yes," she was forced to admit, "but this is the first time you’ve ever brought up anything about a death threat in front of me."
"I thought it went without saying. Anyway, what was I supposed to think, when I came back and found you gone? There was no note, nothing! I couldn’t have taken it if…" He paused here. He must have realised he was shouting now. Ginny couldn’t ever remember hearing Harry raise his voice in anger. His face was flushed, and his hands were gripping her harder than ever.
"If you can’t even accept that you’re in danger," he began again, "how can you possibly take care of yourself?"
Ginny gasped, as the words echoed in the air between them. How dare he treat her as if she were a child? Why, he was no better than her mother! A wave of anger and pain washed over her as this realisation struck. She narrowed her eyes at him, as she brought up her hand and slowly began to peel his fingers away from her arms one at a time. By now, they were gripping hard enough to leave bruises.
"I don’t need someone to look after me. I’m not a child any more." She said this in a quiet but firm tone, one that belied her anger at his presumption. In spite of herself, she felt tears begin to well up. She turned away from him, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
"Ginny, I…" His tone was quieter now, too. She felt a hand touch her shoulder, but this only enraged her further. Her head and heart were both pounding now. He was making her feel as if she were twelve years old and still needed rescuing. An image came to her mind unbidden, a memory of a seventh year Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, when she’d been the only one in her class to successfully conjure a Patronus. Her Patronus had been Harry himself, a fact which had seemed completely embarrassing at the time. Now the image came back in full force, mocking her.
She whirled around to face him. "No, Harry," she spat. "I don’t need anyone, and I sure as hell don’t need you! I can bloody well look after myself!"
"But…"
"Get out," she said, dully.
"Gin…"
Ginny didn’t want to hear any more. "Go!"
He stood looking stricken, as if she’d done him physical violence. Suddenly, it appeared to her as if he were the child now. She could see in him the lost eleven-year-old boy who didn’t know how to access Platform 9 ¾. She saw hurt in his eyes, and she quickly looked away. She couldn’t face the thought that she’d hurt him, no matter what he’d just been saying to her.
"Just go," she repeated. She turned away to stare intently at the wall, a silent tear escaping to course down her cheek. She swiped angrily at her eyes before another could fall. She didn’t turn around until she’d heard the front door close softly behind her. Looking around her living room, she noticed Harry’s things lying about. They seemed to clutter up the room, where before she’d given them little thought. She walked over to where he’d left his weights on the floor and gave one of them a kick, but she only succeeded in stubbing her toe - she’d forgotten she’d taken her shoes off earlier. She swore to herself and went into the kitchen to pour out her tea which had gone cold.
*
Ginny looked at the bewildering array of joke paraphernalia on the shelves in front of her and sighed. There was more to working in her brothers’ shop than she’d thought. Although Fred had given her some sort of memory-enhancing potion (which she’d taken with a certain amount of suspicion, since she wasn’t sure of the legality of such things, on top of her brothers’ reputation) to help her learn faster that morning when she’d reported for work, she still had trouble locating items for customers. Even knowing Fred was nearby in case she needed help did not make the job seem less daunting. At the moment she was trying to find Black Soap (guaranteed to grow live fungus on the user’s hands). She couldn’t imagine why people would even want some of the items sold. There were comedy hernia kits, fake vomit, skunk juice that didn’t wash off for days, realistic-looking flesh wound kits … All of it "guaranteed to break the ice at parties". Ginny didn’t know who had more twisted minds, her brothers for inventing the stuff, or their customers for buying it. She breathed a sigh of relief, as she finally found what she was looking for next to the boxes of Boiling Bath powder.
On top of all that, Ginny was finding it necessary to learn the prices of things off by heart in order to better answer customers’ questions, and there was some sort of mysterious private collection. Fred had told her to send any customers who asked about it to see him. Ginny didn’t even want to ask about what sort of items the private collection contained.
It didn’t help matters that she was starting her new job on very little sleep. The argument she’d had with Harry was affecting her more than she liked to admit. His reaction to her absence had seemed rather extreme to her, but she’d spent some time thinking about it, and had reached a few conclusions. For one, she realised she should at least have left him a note. She was ready to apologise on that score. For another, she recognised that he’d been in a state of panic, which she was able to look upon as rather touching once her own anger had faded. She also thought that he really must care for her a great deal to get himself into such a state. Her stomach gave a funny little lurch each time this idea entered her mind. She wasn’t sure she was ready to forgive him for treating her like a child just yet, though. A lot would hinge on what he said to her the next time they saw each other. It sobered her to think she didn’t know when, exactly, that would be. She’d discovered she’d got used to him being there. Her house had seemed very lonely this morning when she’d taken her breakfast alone.
The sound of a bell brought her out of her thoughts. A new customer must have entered the shop. She looked up to see a tall, thin man with sloping shoulders, glasses and a rather weak chin. Ginny did not like the appraising look he gave her, but he was a customer, and she reminded herself she must treat him as such. Forcing herself to smile, she asked in what she hoped was a bright voice, "Good afternoon. May I help you?"
"Yes, you most certainly may," he answered in a rather oily voice. "Are you new? I don’t believe I’ve seen you in here before."
Ginny was liking this less and less. There was something in the man’s manner…"Yes, I am. It’s my first day. Now is there anything I can do for you?"
"I’m sure there is," he said in an insinuating tone. "I’d like something from the, erm, private collection."
"Oh, well, you’ll have to ask Fred about that." She nodded in her brother’s direction. He was already waiting on another customer. "He’ll be with you directly."
The man positively leered at her. "I think I’d like for you to show me the private collection, if you don’t mind." Now Ginny was sure she didn’t want to know what was in the private collection. She heard the bell tinkle again, and looked up to see that Fred was finished with his customer.
"I’m sorry, I’m not allowed to do that. Fred will be happy to serve you." She turned to wave Fred over, but a hand on her arm stopped her. She cringed at the man’s touch and looked him straight in the eye, ready to tell him off. Customer or no, she didn’t care at the moment, but just then Fred came over to them, his facial expression one of distaste. The man took his hand off Ginny’s arm.
"Is there a problem here, Ginny?"
"This man insists on seeing the private collection. Why don’t you take care of it, Fred?"
"Oh, I’ll be glad to. But first, I should introduce you. Ginny, this is Richard Bradley, a very loyal customer. Richard, this is my sister Ginny Weasley." Fred said the word "sister" in such a way as to serve as a warning for Richard to back off. Then the two men headed for the back of the shop.
Ginny let out a long breath. She hoped that she wouldn’t have to deal with customers like him very often. She knew she would find it difficult to treat them very nicely for long. Looking at the clock on the wall, she saw it was almost closing time. She breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a long day. Reluctantly, she remembered that she’d be going home to an empty house…
The bell rang again, and she steeled herself to face another customer. But when she looked in the direction of the door, she saw that Harry had entered the shop. She thought he looked repentant; she sincerely hoped he was, because the moment she looked into his eyes, she knew she didn’t want to row with him. Not wanting to make things too easy for him, she schooled her features into a neutral expression.
"Hello, Harry. What brings you by?"
"I think I owe you an explanation. Is there anywhere we can go to talk?"
"If you wait a few minutes, I’ll be finished for the day…" She felt herself begin to smile, and saw a hopeful look come into Harry’s eyes. Then he was holding out something in his hand. She looked down and saw a small, box wrapped in cream coloured paper and tied with a ribbon.
"What’s this?" she asked curiously.
Harry began to grin. "Belgian chocolates. A sort of peace offering…"
Ginny looked into his eyes and grinned back.
"Oy! Take it somewhere else! Preferably out of my sight." Fred had just come to the front of the shop. Over Harry’s shoulder, Ginny saw Richard Bradley go out into Diagon Alley. "I suppose I can let you go for the day, Gin," Fred continued. "We’ll show you how to close up tomorrow."
Harry and Ginny said good evening to Fred, and Ginny started towards the back exit. "Let’s go out through the alley, Harry. I don’t want to run into that man again."
Harry turned to look at the door through which Bradley had left the shop. "Why?" he asked.
"There’s something I don’t like about him. Let’s just leave it at that."
They went into the alley behind the shop. "Where to, then?" Harry asked quietly.
"Hogsmeade," Ginny replied simply. She thought Harry looked relieved when she said that; she felt a certain amount of relief, herself.
"What about supper?"
"I’ll fix us something. Then we can talk."
And so they went back to Ginny’s cottage. Ginny changed out of the robes she’d worn to work and went into the kitchen to prepare supper. Harry insisted on helping, so she set him to making salad. She had the impression he was reluctant to let her out of his sight. Rather than being annoyed with him for hovering, the idea caused a feeling of warmth to spread through her. It was as if something had changed about him since yesterday morning, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.
They sat down at the table with their plates of food. Harry took a deep breath and began to apologise immediately. "I’m sorry for what I said to you yesterday, Ginny. There was no excuse for that. I came back from Hogwarts, and you were nowhere to be found, and, well, I just panicked. I imagined all sorts of horrible things had happened to you…"
Ginny cut him off here. "I owe you an apology, as well. I should have left you a note. It’s just that I’m used to living alone, and I just wasn’t thinking. If I’d had any idea you were going to react that way, I would have thought twice. But where did you go? When I came home yesterday, you’d gone out again…"
"Yes, I’d been here and gone again. For what it’s worth, I didn’t leave you a note either. But I was looking for you, wasn’t I? Or at least looking for clues…"
"Clues?"
"I looked all over the house first, and when I didn’t find anything, I went back to Hogwarts…" Ginny was perplexed. Why would he have been looking at Hogwarts? The question must have shown in her face, for Harry continued. "Yesterday, when I took the books back to the library, I ran into someone unexpected. Draco Malfoy."
"Malfoy? I thought he was dead."
"Yes, he is. I saw his ghost, though. And his ghost said something rather cryptic to me. I discounted it at the time, but when I came back here and found you gone, I wasn’t so sure, so I went back to find him. I was just as angry at myself for ignoring Malfoy. What if something had happened to you, and he was trying to warn me?"
This was getting more and more curious. "What did he say to you?"
"Something about his father, and that perhaps he’d be able to tell me something useful. I thought he was having me on. How could he have known I’d turn up at Hogwarts yesterday, after all? But it doesn’t matter. I couldn’t find him when I went back to look."
"So you think he may know something about whoever’s been threatening me?"
"I don’t know. He may, and I intend to find out. Think about it: we know there are likely Death Eaters involved in this, and his father was in the inner circle. He told me he’d been haunting Lucius. If Lucius is tied in with this, Draco may know something. I just need to figure out how one goes about finding a ghost. I don’t think a Summoning Charm will do it. But enough about that. Could you tell me one thing? Where did you go yesterday?"
"I went to visit my friend, Pauline. She called me through the fire right after you went out, and I decided I needed to get out, myself. I’m sorry about not letting you know, but I honestly didn’t think I’d be gone so long. Now I’d like you to tell me something. Where did you go last night?"
Harry reddened and mumbled something Ginny couldn’t hear. "I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that."
Harry cleared his throat. "I said, I spent last night sleeping in your garden." Ginny gaped at him, and then burst out laughing. The warm feeling was spreading through her once more. "I don’t see how it’s so funny," Harry added, in a slightly irritated tone. "The ground out there isn’t exactly comfortable. I’m hoping you’ll forgive me for what I said yesterday so I can have my sofa back."
Ginny reached out and took his hand. She was thankful he was making this easy for her. She really did want to forgive him. "I think I can do that. Can’t have you sleeping on the ground, you might get a cramp." She watched Harry’s jaw drop, but she went on as if she were simply talking about the weather. "Do you mind doing the washing up?" She got up from the table and went into the living room, leaving him to gape after her.
Sitting down on the sofa, she took out her box of chocolates, opened and inspected them carefully. She’d lived too long with several mischievous older brothers to accept anything new to eat on faith. Deciding she ought to be safe, she chose one and took a bite. It was delicious. She finished it with relish, and tried another. Then she got up, feeling restless. Music, yes. That’s what she needed. Something calming. She went over to look through her CDs.
She settled on her new Sarah McLachlan; that was mainly quiet and calming. She put the CD in her player and tapped it with her wand to start the music. As she did so, she felt Harry slip up behind her and put his arms around her waist. He rested his cheek against the top of her head for a moment, then she felt him bring up a hand to push her hair aside and plant soft kisses on the nape of her neck. Ginny’s knees turned to jelly, but at the same time she wanted to scream. This was doing nothing to ease the feeling if awareness that had been growing in her ever since they’d got home; it was making it fall all the more heavily over her.
She turned in his embrace, and he drew her in, starting to slowly dance to the sultry music. Her restlessness increased, as the words of the refrain washed over her:
…Kiss you so hard
I’ll take your breath away
And after I’d wipe away the tears,
Just close your eyes dear…
She knew Harry was just as aware of the lyrics as she was, because he stopped dancing and looked down into her eyes. Then his lips were on hers, and she knew she was lost. She leaned into the kiss and pressed her body against his. She had to; she wouldn’t have been able to stand otherwise. She gasped as his lips found the spot on her neck where her pulse was now pounding out of control. She felt his teeth graze an earlobe, then his mouth was devouring hers again.
Harry moved his hand from her waist to gently cup one of her breasts. Ginny stiffened slightly. As much as she had wanted him to touch her, as much as she enjoyed it, it still came as a surprise to her, because he had been holding back for so long. Harry ceased his exploration of her mouth and leaned his forehead against hers. She could see that his pupils were dilated, their green irises shrunk to barely perceptible rings. He moved his hand back down to her waist, gripping tightly. He swallowed once, trying to bring his breathing under control. "Ginny," he whispered in a lowered timbre, "I want to make love to you." He punctuated this statement by pushing his hips against her so she could not mistake the effect she had on him.
Ginny tried unsuccessfully to bring her own thoughts into focus; she found it impossible to concentrate on formulating a coherent response. Finally she got out, "I never have before." She was surprised to hear the husky quality in her own voice.
"Let me teach you."
Ginny was just barely able to force the word "yes" from her mouth, when his lips descended on hers again. He brought his hand back to her breast, the thumb brushing over its tip, causing her to arch against him. Harry broke off the kiss and brought her right palm to his mouth. She felt his lips and then his tongue trace a line along its centre. Then he took her by that hand and led her into the bedroom.
He laid his glasses on the night table. Then he turned back to her, and his lips descended on hers once more, as his fingers began to work at the buttons of her blouse. She could feel them tremble slightly as one by one each button was freed. "Can he be nervous?" she asked herself. Ginny herself felt surprisingly calm. There was something so right about this somehow.
That thought emboldened her, and suddenly her hands were itching to touch him. She brought them up and ran them softly over the back of his neck, into his hair, and then down over his shoulders and chest. The sound that he made in his throat at this was decidedly animal, but it only made her feel even more audacious. Then he was staring at her, a wicked-looking grin taking over his features. "I don’t believe I’ll have to teach you much at all," he whispered as the last button of her blouse was released.
He pushed the blouse back from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor, revealing a silken camisole. He grasped the straps with his fingers and began to lower them, as his lips began to trace a sensual path along her neck and then further downward.
Ginny cried out, and then she felt herself toppling backwards. Unbeknownst to her, Harry had been slowly backing her towards the bed, and she landed on mattress with a surprised giggle. Then he was lying on top of her, kissing her again, as her fingers worked their way underneath his shirt. He paused for a moment to pull off the offending garment, and when he lay atop her again, the skin to skin contact made her cry out again.
She heard Harry chuckle. Looking up at him in the moonlight that filtered in through the window, she could see that the wicked grin was back. Then his lips were back at her neck again, while his hands moved lower down her body. She gasped as his lips, tongue and teeth soon followed the path his hands had blazed, and his hands moved lower still to work at the fastening of her jeans. All her senses were strangely heightened now, and she shivered as she felt cool air on her thighs.
Harry stepped back and gazed down at her. Although she knew she was completely naked now before him, and that he could see it, bathed in the moonlight as she was, she felt completely unabashed. There was something in his gaze that made her feel cherished, and the tone of his voice, when he spoke, only confirmed that feeling. "Ginny," he said in a very hoarse but almost reverential tone, "you’re so beautiful. More than I could have imagined. I feel as if I’ve waited my whole life for this." He stretched out beside her on the bed and ran a tender finger along her jaw line. He leaned down and kissed her very softly, at first, before the passion took over again, and his kiss became hungrier.
Ginny shuddered under his touch as it became ever more intimate. Soon there was almost nowhere on her body that his hands hadn’t caressed, that his lips hadn’t kissed. There seemed to be a knot of pleasure building inside her, growing ever larger yet ever tighter, and when it burst, it took her by surprise, and she cried out his name.
At some point, Ginny had no idea when, Harry had managed to shed his trousers, and he now lay atop her completely naked as she. He leaned down to kiss her lips again, and she could feel power in him barely suppressed; he was trembling with it. He reached down and caressed her thigh, raising her knee when he reached it, inviting her to wrap her legs around his waist. He tried to take her carefully, she thought, although the pain of his entry made her gasp and wince slightly. She felt a hand touch her cheek. "I’m sorry," he whispered. She could hear his fight for control in his tone. She reached up to bring his mouth down to hers, and in so doing caused their bodies to shift. This was obviously the limit of Harry’s control, for now he began to move, but the pain was gone now; there was only the pleasure that began to build again. At last, she felt him tense over her, heard him cry out, saw his face contort, and she knew he must be experiencing the same pleasure that she had. The knowledge that she could do that for him gave her an incredible sense of power.
He collapsed over her, kissing her with abandon. Then he relaxed and rolled off her, bringing her with him, enfolding her in his embrace. Slowly, Ginny spiralled back down to earth and felt sleep begin to overtake her.
"I love you, Harry."
The thought came unbidden to her mind. A split second later, she realised she must have whispered that thought aloud in the dark, because she felt Harry’s arms tighten around her, holding her tighter. Secure in his embrace, she drifted off to sleep.
*
The first thing Harry saw when he awoke the next morning was Ginny. She was lying asleep, her face at peace, her hair spread out on the pillow. Idly, Harry lifted a tendril of her hair and turned it around his finger. He felt a sense of amazement to be waking up next to her. Inevitably, he thought of the previous night and her generous response to him. She was so genuine, entirely without artifice, so unlike any other woman he had ever known.
Harry reached over and touched her cheek; Ginny stirred but did not wake. He thought back to Ron and Hermione’s wedding. "With my body I thee worship," they’d repeated to each other. Harry had always found this line odd. Until last night he’d never understood it, but now its full significance engulfed him like a wave. That’s what he’d done with Ginny, he’d worshipped her. It was as much a first for him as it had been for her.
Harry propped his head up on his hand, and looked down at her. He ran a gentle finger down the side of her face, then he leaned over and kissed her eyelids, cheeks, and finally her lips. Then he gazed at her beloved face once more. Beloved. He had a name now for the overwhelming rush of joy he felt to be here with her. He hadn’t been able to tell her the other day when he saw she was safe. He’d been far too panicked, and part of that panic had been the realisation that she could hold such power over him. But now he was ready. He couldn’t hold this back any more.
Ginny’s eyes were open now, slowly coming into focus, then their chocolate centres were looking steadily back at him. "Harry," she whispered, her cheeks beginning to stain.
Harry smiled at her. "Good morning." He reached for one of her hands and kissed it. "Ginny, last night you gave me a very precious gift, and I haven’t thanked you properly for it."
Ginny coloured further, but she continued to meet his gaze. "You mean my virginity," she said quietly.
"Yes, there was that, but that’s not what I was referring to. Two precious gifts, then. What I meant was your love."
"I don’t know where that came from, Harry. I didn’t even realise I’d said it out loud."
Harry’s heart began to pound. "Are you going to take it back then? Please don’t." He hoped he didn’t sound like he was begging.
Ginny reached up to him, and pulled his face toward hers. Her kiss was rather forceful. When she’d released him, she said, "No, I’m not going to take it back."
Harry felt a smile spread over his features. He thought it must be the biggest grin he’d ever had on his face, but he was past caring. "I’m glad, Ginny, because there’s something I need to tell you. It’s taken me nearly forever, but I’ve finally come to my senses. It’s been slowly dawning on me that I’ve been in love with you for the longest time, probably ever since sixth year."
Harry’s grin broadened even further, if that were possible, at her sharp intake of breath and her shocked expression. "Sixth year," she repeated in an incredulous whisper. "Sixth year," she said again a little louder. "And you never said anything…"
He became serious once more. "I couldn’t, Ginny, you know that."
"Yes, I do. But after the war, you went away…"
"I did. As much as I needed to leave, I regret that I had to leave you behind. I think I lost my way during that time, and it’s taken me too long to find it again. But I have now. It’s with you."
Ginny reached up to touch his cheek, her eyes steadily returning his gaze. "I think I’ve always known in my heart there was never anyone else but you." Harry’s own heart leapt to hear her. She brought her lips up to his, and soon the passion was rising between them once more. It was a long time before either of them considered getting out of bed.
Next Chapter