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SIYE Time:7:42 on 29th March 2024
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Rebuilding Life
By Kezzabear

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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:All
Genres: General, Humor, Romance
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 1776
Summary: Harry has defeated Voldemort but is going back to his life going to be easy? What will he go back to, the life he once had is meaningless now. It's time to build a new one and to create a new post-Voldemort world. Ginny is there waiting for him, what do they need to do to rebuild their lives?
Hitcount: Story Total: 579798; Chapter Total: 18177
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
Thank you to everyone who nominated and voted in the September DSTA. It's wonderful that so many people are enjoying the story so much. I hope you like the next bit just as much.

In this chapter I bring you more...Romance! It might seem like a load of irrelevant fluff at first but there's important things in this chapter. Enjoy!




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Sunday in Origin Alley dawned bright, clear and cloudless. Harry lay peacefully in bed, slowly surfacing from a deep and satisfying slumber when Ron and George began to obnoxiously fight over use of the ensuite. Harry tried to block out the noise by holding his pillow over his ears but it failed to ensure he did not know that their fight was because Ron was anxious to get away with Hermione for the day and George was going out with Jonathon and the possibility of picking up some ‘sheila birds’ was not out of the question. As he reached for his glasses Harry idly wondered what George had going with Katie if he was so willing to pick up casual women but mentally shrugged because it was none of his business. The argument was averted when Hermione and Ginny came into the room and Hermione declared their ensuite free and George raced in to use it.

“Don’t leave a mess in the sink!” yelled Ginny. She turned to Harry a dazzling smile on her face. “What are we going to do today?” Looking at Ron and Hermione, Harry shrugged. Hermione averted her gaze and looked pointedly at Ron who had failed to immediately grab the shower now that it was no longer under dispute and sat back down to eat the remains of his breakfast at leisure. Harry wondered why he hadn’t just let George go first while he ate. Ron swallowed the last bite of his crumpet and shrugged apologetically at Harry.

“We’ve got plans,” he said simply before turned a delicate shade of pink. “And, er … well, they don’t involve you.” Harry stifled a chuckle while Hermione groaned.

“Could you have been any ruder, Ronald?” she hissed. Ron scraped the chair on the floor as he got up from the tiny table on which the most enormous breakfast tray Harry had ever seen was balanced precariously.

“He’s not offended, Hermione,” said Ron over his shoulder as he headed for the ensuite. “He’s been trying to figure out a way to ditch us and be alone with Ginny since he woke up!”

“Since yesterday, actually,” muttered Harry under his breath while Ginny giggled and Hermione huffed, sitting down at the table and helping herself to a glass of juice and a piece of toast that Ron had somehow missed. Ginny stood awkwardly next to Hermione and Harry suddenly sensed what it was she was awkward about. He propped himself up on his elbows, heedless of his bedcovers pooling around his waist and exposing his bare chest and quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Don’t I get a good morning snog today?” he asked boldly. Ginny blushed heavily before flinging herself across the room and on top of him and captured his lips in a kiss. Harry brought his arms around her and they both fell back on the bed. They heard the rustle of Hermione burying herself behind the Sunday Oracle and continued kissing, Harry’s hands respectably above Ginny’s waist while he trailed kisses down her jaw and down into the hollow where her neck and shoulders began. He felt Ginny run her fingers over his chest as she pulled away and bent down to press a kiss to the oval shaped scar over his heart and his eyes slid shut only to snap open seconds later when George slammed the door between the two rooms on his way back from the girls’ ensuite.

“Stop that!” he grumbled as he threw his towel over a chair. “We don’t need to see that sort of thing so soon after breakfast. Bill and Fleur need to remember that too and put up bloody locking charms as well as silencing ones!”

“Well, if you will wander in on people who are on their honeymoon, George,” said Hermione idly as she turned a page.

“No! They need to keep their activities to the bed instead of leaning against the door!” cried George plaintively. “How was I supposed to know they weren’t actually knocking? I’ve been scarred for life!” His little tirade was cut short as Hermione turned the next page and gasped. George hurried over to see what had surprised her while Harry and Ginny both tried to leap off the bed at the same time and came tumbling to the floor in a tangle of bedclothes with a loud thump. The noise brought Ron flying out of the ensuite clad only in a towel.

“What the bloody hell - ” Ron caught sight of Harry and Ginny tangled on the floor and groaned. “Just keep it in until we’ve left, okay?” Harry blushed and stood up hurriedly.

“We weren’t doing anything, Ron,” he said as he moved behind Hermione to read the paper over her shoulder. He did not see Ginny admiring the view as he leant over the chair, his pyjama pants slung low on his hips but Ron did and he threw a pillow at Ginny’s head to stop her staring lasciviously at his best mate.

“That’s not really your best side, mate,” said George appraisingly as he inspected the newspaper. “Still I don’t expect you knew you were posing for photographers when you were groping our baby sister like that last night.” Ron scrambled over his bag and a pair of discarded shoes to peer at the paper over Harry’s shoulder.

“Bloody hell,” he exclaimed. “Well at least they might lay off you and Hermione now. Hey, wait a minute — Harry is your hand up her jumper?” Harry snatched the paper out of Hermione’s hands.

“Don’t you lot have somewhere to be today?” he asked pointedly, refolding the paper and tucking it under one arm as he folded his arms across his chest. He glared at Ron who muttered something about getting dressed as he ducked back into the ensuite. George took a look in the mirror and proclaimed himself devastatingly handsome before sauntering to the door. He turned around and looked Harry up and down.

“I do suggest you change into something else before you go out in public today, my good man,” he said, winking. “And do your hair or the photos are going to turn out dreadfully.” George left the room whistling jauntily while Hermione shook her head exasperatedly.

“He’s right though,” she said. “There are bound to be photographers out there today, just waiting to take your picture. Be careful, okay?” And she swept out of the room returning seconds later with her handbag and banging on the ensuite door she demanded that Ron hurry up. They were gone moments later, Ron leaving behind a dire warning about where Harry put his hands.

“Sod off, Ron,” muttered Harry as he and Ginny found themselves alone.

“Can I see it?” asked Ginny softly into the silence. Wordlessly Harry handed her the paper. He watched as she opened it and flicked through the pages until she came to the photograph of them kissing in the Quidditch box the night before. His photograph self ran his hands down her back and, yes, up under the hem of her jumper. Harry sighed. He hadn’t even realised he’d done that last night. Ginny was reading the article printed underneath.

WEDDING OF THE CENTURY CALLED OFF


Well, that is what this publication assumes given the highly damning evidence contained in this picture captured last night at the Warrior — Nargun game out at Wollemi. It is evident, by the neat hair of the maiden in this picture that this is not the woman with whom Harry Potter, wizarding Britain’s most eligible bachelor, was planning his recent nuptials. Could he be eligible once again? Was the rumoured wedding just that, a rumour? Who is the woman in the picture and what relationship, if any, do they share?

The article went on to list a few of the events associated with Harry’s life and an estimation of his net worth, surmising in the end that the woman in the picture was simply a gold digger, whoever she was. A low growl escaped Ginny’s throat.

“I am not a gold digger,” she muttered. “And you are worth more than three times as much as that!” Harry looked at her curiously.

“I am?” he asked in surprise. “Er, how do you know that?”

“I asked Bill and he got me the balance,” she said absently, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she turned the page.

“Huh,” said Harry, staring at her. She must have felt his gaze on her for she looked up.

“What?”

“I never thought to ask the balance before,” was all he said as he grabbed an apple from the breakfast tray and headed for the ensuite to shower.

“That’s okay, isn’t it?” he heard her ask softly. Harry turned to smile at her.

“Of course it is,” he assured her. “I’m going to shower, let’s go spend some of it.” And he winked at her before sauntering through the little door in the corner and into the ensuite.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Harr y had never before spent a day doing nothing and yet everything with Ginny, or indeed anyone. The first order of the day had been to find some breakfast. Ginny had insisted that an apple was not enough to sustain him and they had ventured into Tucker Run to find several small cafes open and they shared a plate of pancakes, washed down with strong coffee. At first Ginny had protested the idea that they finish breakfast with desert but Harry ordered the chocolate mud cake she had been eyeing off anyway.

“Well,” she reasoned as she picked up the fork, “it wouldn’t do to waste it.” Harry grinned as he watched her stab the cake and maneuver a dainty piece into her mouth. Her eyes slid shut as she pulled the fork slowly from her mouth, sucking off the remnants of the fudge icing. Harry gulped. His eyes were riveted as he watched her pop another piece into her mouth and smile in appreciation of the delicacy. He was sitting right next to her and suddenly felt that it wasn’t close enough. Ginny opened her eyes.

“This is so good. Do you want some?” Ginny loaded the fork and aimed it at Harry’s mouth without waiting for an answer. He eyed the fork warily for a moment but obediently opened his mouth. He was unprepared for the sensual experience that was to be fed chocolate cake by Ginny Weasley. As his lips closed around the smooth chocolate treat he could see the sparkle in her eyes and the smile on her lips. She pulled the fork slowly out of his mouth and, just as hers had done, his eyes closed almost involuntarily, rendering all his other senses acute. As the chocolate melted on his tongue he could feel the heat where her knee pressed against his leg, her scent overwhelmed him and he heard her breathe softly as the clink of the fork against the plate revealed her intent to feed him more cake.

Harry opened his eyes and conjured another fork and spearing another bite he raised it to her beautiful lips. The world was just the two of them and a piece of chocolate cake. When the cake was gone and the two forks discarded Harry leaned in and captured Ginny’s lips in a soft kiss that tasted of chocolate and love. They did not deepen the kiss, it remained soft and sweet and chaste but as Harry entwined his fingers with Ginny’s the kiss touched deep inside his soul and he felt drawn to her in a way he had not been before. They were barely touching but there was something intimate in that kiss with only their lips and hands touching, something that he had not experienced before. As he pulled away slowly, his lips lingering feather light on hers for just a moment he squeezed her hand with his to let her know that he was still with her and he watched, entranced, as she opened her eyes to look into his.

They sat in silence for a moment, looking deep into each other’s souls. The moment was broken when a waiter dropped a pile of plates he had been levitating into the kitchen and they hit the floor with a resounding crash. Harry jumped and then smiled at Ginny.

“Let’s go exploring,” he said to her, excitement alight in his eyes. Ginny nodded. They settled the account and then strolled out into the weak midmorning sunshine. Sunday morning had not slowed the bustle of Origin Alley and it was as full of witches and wizards as it had been the day before. A stout wizard in purple robes and a pointy hat was hawking his crystal balls from a cart in the middle of the street while a thin, sticklike witch who reminded Harry uncannily of Professor Trelawney was selling what appeared to be odd tea cups and enormous bags of tea leaves. The two divination peddlers were glaring at each other as they called out to passersby to sample their wares. Ginny stopped to admire the rose pattern on one of the teacups but Harry, eyeing the thin witch warily tugged on her hand and gently urged her forward. He was vindicated in his action when seconds later spellfire broke out between her and the purple robed wizard, a sizzling red spell sailing through the air where Ginny had been seconds before.

As Harry instinctively wrapped one arm around Ginny and pulled out his wand with the other hand several surrounding shopkeepers spilled out into the street and with practiced ease seemed to round up the combatants, pack up their carts and deposit them each at different ends of the Alley. The incident seemed to faze no one and the narrow, winding Alley flared back to life within minutes. Harry put his wand away slowly and looked around warily. He was acutely aware that Ginny was trembling in his arms and pulled her close protectively.

“Are you okay?” he asked her softly. She nodded slightly, still trembling and Harry was not convinced. He attempted to reassure her softly. “I’m pretty sure that was just an Expelliarmus.”

“Looked more like Stupefy to me,” muttered Ginny. She straightened up and took a deep breath, putting on a show of being very relaxed. “Oh, I’m fine, no problem, no worries,” she said, straightening her clothes and taking a few steps. Harry rushed after her, putting a hand on her arm.

“Are you sure?”

“Really, Harry,” she smiled a genuine smile, “I’m okay, just startled.” Harry let himself be convinced and dragged to the nearest shop window to have a look.

Harry savoured the opportunity to peer into shop windows at his leisure, relishing the feel of Ginny’s hand safely ensconced in his own and the wonders of a brand new community to explore. He let himself be dragged from window to window while Ginny exclaimed over unfamiliar sweets, exotic looking wands and a window with a display of multicoloured quills. As he watched her almost press her nose against the window of a tiny shop that appeared to sell dainty little ornaments and adornments Harry realised that she was accustomed to looking in windows only and was unlikely to actually enter any of these shops of her own volition.

“Oh look at that, Harry,” said Ginny suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts. “Isn’t it beautiful? Hermione would adore that.” She was pointing to a tiny jeweled handbag that reminded Harry somewhat of Hermione’s beaded bag only this one was golden with red jewels looking remarkably like something especially designed for Gryffindors.

“Come on then,” said Harry as he pulled her into the tiny shop. The inside of the store was crammed with more little bits and pieces than Harry had thought were possible. Ginny wandered from shelf to shelf exclaiming over sparkling hair accessories, glass ornaments and strings of beads. Harry trailed after her, just watching as her eyes sparkled and her lips curved into a happy smile as she looked at herself in a small jeweled mirror that told her she looked radiant. He was content just to watch. He had absolutely no idea what half the stuff in the little shop was for but figured witches knew what to do with tiny statues made of wire and cloth and delicate little bowls with filigree lids. There was one corner in which a small writing table sat adorned with a lace doily and a tiny pink, fluffy cat figurine that stretched and then curled up to sleep as he watched.

“I like cats,” said Ginny from behind him, “but that’s just a little too creepy.” Harry could only agree and, desperate to erase the pink cat from his memory, he turned and waved rather vaguely at the window display with the little jeweled bag in it.

“D’you think it would make a good birthday present for Hermione?” he asked her. Ginny nodded absently as she examined set of tiny figurines near the counter. They were of round, chubby babies with enormous eyes that blinked at her when she reached out a finger to touch the little hats on their heads. The ones with strategically placed leaves appeared to be boys while others had on tiny fluffy skirts made of what appeared to be a flower.

“They’re real you know, not like the Muggles think. Imagination, ha!” scoffed a wizened little old witch from a curtained doorway they had not noticed. “Even when they do notice things they think it’s their imagination.” The little old witch had twinkling blues eyes and was grinning, showing two rows of crooked white teeth.

“They look like little fairy babies,” said Ginny, smiling as the little chubby figurines clambered to their feet and toddled along the edge of the shelf on which they were perched.

“They are,” said the little old witch, “Gumnut Babies. The Muggles think one of them invented them you know … Muggles, it’s obvious she was a witch, how else would she know about them?

“Some say they must be enchanted to remain babies forever as they never grow up, born babies and die babies. I think they just look different as grown up fairies. Live in the bush, they do. Smaller than those figurines mind you, no bigger than your thumb I reckon. Course I’ve never seen one myself, not many people have, too many Banksia Men.” The wizened old witch shook her head sadly. Harry just raised his eyebrows at Ginny. The woman sounded completely dotty.

“Course in areas where there’s lots of them Bowtruckles some folks reckon they seen Gumnut Babies,” continued the little old woman, unaware or uncaring that she was not making much sense to the two British tourists. “Banksia Men don’t like Bowtruckles, crazy introduced species.” Harry shook his head ever so slightly but it was clear the old woman had no problems with her sight for she told him off at once.

“I saw that young man! Don’t you go shaking your head at me! Think I’m barmy, don’t you? Well let me tell you something, I’m as sprightly as they come. I’m as good as I was back when I was as young as this little slip of a thing!” she glared at him fiercely, her blue eyes unrelenting as she advanced towards the counter. “Now are you going to get some sort of treasure for your young lady or not? That’s what brings you young fellas in. Lord knows I never see any of you in here on your own account!”

“But what are Banksia Men?” asked Ginny quietly as the little Gumnut Baby figurine climbed onto her outstretched palm and began circling, its little chest puffed out importantly.

“Nasty little villainous tree creatures,” spat the old woman. “Terrible curse on the poor Gumnut Babies. Still, I suppose the Babies are introduced as well. Would have done us all some good I reckon if we’d left well enough alone. I mean it’s bad enough we got Hippogriffs but bringing over Bowtruckles and Pixies is just asking for trouble.”

“So Banksia Men are native tree folk then?” asked Harry, beginning to see what she was getting at.

‘Yes, yes,” said the wizened old woman impatiently. “That’s what I’ve been saying. Bowtruckles get along well with the Turongs as a rule, live together quite fine but for some reason them Banksia Men get spooked by Bowtruckles. Suppose it’s fitting then that Bowtruckles can’t stand Banksia trees. Much prefer the gum and pine forests, do Bowtruckles.”

“So a Turong then is another native tree dweller?” asked Ginny as she set the Gumnut Baby back on the shelf.

“Yes, don’t see much of them in the cities though. Only get the domesticated sort of animal around here,” said the old woman looking pointedly at her watch. “If you want educating in the life and times of Australian magical folk go ask old Seth at Animalia. I haven’t got time to be educating foreigners about it. Now are you going to buy something for your young lady or not, Mr Potter?” Harry started, staring at her in surprise.

“Yes, yes,” the old witch waved her hand at him huffily. “I’m not so old as senile and completely unaware of the goings on in this world. I know who you are.” Harry smiled sheepishly as Ginny requested purchase of the tiny handbag in the window. As he pulled out the Galleons necessary to purchase the gift for Hermione he noticed Ginny was gazing wistfully at the little shelf of Gumnut Babies.

“Go on, get one,” he said softly into her ear. “I like that little one with the red skirt.” Ginny blushed as Harry’s breath tickled her ear and he reached out and squeezed her hand.

“It’s silly,” she protested. “I haven’t really got any other ornaments anyway.” Harry heard the longing in her voice and marveled at the sliver of femininity she was showing. Sometimes in the midst of her brothers, in a home where money was tight and not spent on such frivolous trivialities as ornaments, it would be easy to forget that Ginny was a girl. Harry reached up and gently lifted down the little figurine in the red skirt.

“Well, this can be your first one and it can remind you of our first day out together,” he said, smiling. “And when you are an old lady and a little girl comes and asks why grandma’s got a funny little fat fairy on her dressing table you can tell her that you keep it always because it was the first gift grandpa ever bought you.” Ginny laughed.

“Not true, you gave me books in first year,” she said. Harry grimaced.

“Yes, well I didn’t exactly have to buy those, did I? So it’s not the same, not the same at all.”

“Well, you can’t just go buying everything I take a passing fancy to, Harry,” Ginny said as the little old wizened witch wrapped their purchases and counted out the change.

“Yes I can,” he whispered cheekily, “but I won’t, because imagine how fat I would get if I let you feed me too much chocolate cake!” Handing her the little box with the Gumnut Baby figurine in it he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Thank you, Harry,” Ginny said softly, slipping the little box into her pocket. Harry thanked the little old witch behind the counter and they turned to go.

“Hold onto him, young lady,” said the old witch suddenly. Harry and Ginny turned. The witch was watching them, a strange glint in her eye that Harry could not decipher. Ginny just smiled as she took Harry’s hand in hers.

“I will,” she assured the old witch, “I haven’t let him go, yet.” With that they stepped out into Origin Alley and began walking leisurely towards a shop with cauldrons piled haphazardly under a faded awning. Harry slipped his arm around Ginny’s shoulders, pulling her close.

“I’m holding onto you too, you know,” he said quietly. “I’m never going to let you go.” Ginny sighed happily and leaned into him.

“I don’t ever want you to.”

Harry and Ginny found Animalia several doors away from the tiny shop staffed by the wizened old witch. A grey haired old wizard with a beard that rivaled Hagrid’s, dressed in rather gubby grey robes was seated out the front of the store in a rare patch of sunshine. Harry assumed this was old Seth.

“Mornin’,” said the possible Seth in a low rumbly voice. “Let me know now if yer comin’ inter the store ter buy anything. It’ll take me a wee while to get meself outta this ‘ere chair.” Ginny looked thoughtfully at him.

“I don’t know that we are buying anything,” she said. “Can you take animals home internationally?” Seth looked up at her, squinting in what looked like a painful fashion.

“Depends on whether or not you can hide ‘em in yer pocket lassie,” he grinned showing uneven yellow teeth. “Yer can get permits fer some things, but yer can’t take the birds and reptiles.” Ginny peered into the shop through the rather grubby window.

“Goodness you do have an awful lot of reptiles,” she said after a moment. “Where are all the fluffy animals?” Harry tried valiantly to hide his smirk. Luckily Ginny did not notice but the old man grinned at Harry and winked as he hoisted himself slowly out of the chair, his robes straightening out and revealing the name Seth sewn onto them near the left shoulder.

“Yer up fer the cost of the permit as well as the fluffy animal, son?” he asked as he ambled slowly into the shop. “Come in, come in then!” Harry and Ginny followed him inside. It turned out to be a fairly large shop filled to the brim with cages upon cages of animals stacked teeteringly high on top of one another until they reached the ceiling. Behind the parchment strewn counter near the back were rows and rows of bottles, packets and boxes on rickety looking shelves. They were marked with labels that proclaimed them such things as ‘owl treats’, ‘flea powder’ and ‘tincture for the affliction of rashes’. A large cage with a magnificent looking white bird seated inside was standing at one end of the counter and the bird was spinning around on its perch and bobbing its head up and down as it stopped and eyed the cages behind it warily. Harry thought the bird was right to eye those particular cages warily because he could make out three ashwinders, one very large spider and a particularly vicious looking cross between an insect and a lizard.

There was a vast bank of screened aquariums near the front of the shop and the side walls were lined with rats, mice and small reptiles. Towards the back of the shop built in cages and enclosures contained tiny green and blue birds, yapping dogs and various species of cats. Harry was contemplating a cage of gamboling kittens wondering if every shop need remind him of Umbridge today when Ginny let out a little shriek. Spinning towards the sound he saw her near the reptile aquariums quite unharmed.

“I’m guessing Lizzie poked ‘er tongue out at yer?” laughed Seth as he stood next to the counter, his arm inside the white bird’s cage.

‘It- it’s blue!” stammered Ginny. Harry peered at the aquarium nearest Ginny but saw only a squat, striped lizard with tiny legs and a short tail. Investigating the other aquariums he found an eclectic assortment of miniscule lizards, buzzing insects, a rather alarming looking reptile that looked like it had a flat sort of ruffle draped over the top of its head and down its neck, an absolutely enormous lizard with sharp claws and several snakes. Harry idly spoke to one of the snakes, just to see what would happen and was pleased to note that nothing did. The snake remained as motionless as it had been. Seth, the white bird on his arm, shuffled slowly over to them.

“Well o’ course ‘er tongue were blue, she’s a Blue Tongue,” said Seth. “Wouldn’t be any kind of Blue Tongue if she didn’t ‘ave a blue tongue.” Suddenly the bird on Seth’s arm squawked and a ruffle of yellow feathers suddenly stuck straight up on its head rather like a mohican.

“Blue tongue! Blue tongue!” parroted the bird. “Wouldn’t be a Blue Tongue!” Ginny jumped and Harry laughed while she scowled.

“Well, I just don’t expect lizards to have blue tongues and birds to talk!” she huffed defensively.

“They can’t ‘urt yer none lassie,” said Seth, not unkindly. “Cocky ‘ere is a right sociable bird, likes ter talk ter the pretty lassies.” The impressive white bird bobbed its head up and down in Ginny’s direction a few times before stretching its wings and screeching loudly.

“Pretty girl! Pretty girl!” Seth gave Cocky a bird treat and the bird nipped at his finger playfully before shuffling awkwardly to the end of his arm and stretched over to investigate Ginny’s outstretched hand.

“G’wan, dance Cocky,” said Seth.

“Dance Cocky! Dance Cocky!” said the bird and it began bobbing up and down. “Dance Cocky!” It wove from side to side, its yellow crest of feathers bobbing up and down and Ginny laughed delightedly. The bird stopped and looked at Ginny, its head tilted to one side. Ginny stretched out her finger again and the bird bent down to nip her finger before it began dancing again, following the direction of her finger. Ginny noticed and began waving her hand in the air, the bird following her every move.

“Dance Cocky!” squawked the bird once more before suddenly spreading its wings and taking flight. It moved so suddenly as it flew up to the rafters that the reptile with the flat ruffle draped on its head and the Blue Tongue both seemed to jump and hiss. The Blue Tongue exposed its tongue again and the other suddenly reared up on its hind legs and flared the ruffle out, baring its teeth. Harry who was still standing next to that one jumped, alarmed, and Ginny burst out laughing.

“Don’t laugh,” grumbled Harry, scowling. Ginny shook with laughter and Seth shook his head sadly.

“Yer better come up the back ‘ere and ‘ave a gander at the more domesticated sort of animals,” he said, shuffling back to the counter, “right jumpy, yer lot.”

Harry trailed after Ginny as she wandered past meowing cats and the odd Kneazle, a fluffy white rabbit and a few rather excitable Puffskeins. Harry watched Ginny coo at the animals and contemplated that today was the first time he had been able to take the time to simply watch Ginny and see what spiked her interest and what held her attention. He knew that she loved cats and that she was fond of Arnold. He also surmised that she had a particular liking for birds as she had always had more patience with Errol than anyone else and Hedwig had been particularly gentle with her. Her recent antics with Cocky and back home with Liberty simply confirmed this for him and he made mental notes as he watched her fondly. He felt that such careful observation of her character was adequate recompense for the fact that walking behind her also gave him ample opportunity to observe her swaying hips and … other areas of her anatomy.

He’d done the same, of course, in the little curio shop and now knew that she liked pretty hair things in muted, rather than garish colours, disliked large beaded necklaces and overly ornate hair brushes and had somewhat of a penchant for tiny baby fairy figurines. As Ginny bent over to pat a rather excitable small puppy that seemed to have a propensity for falling over its own feet, Harry stopped to appreciate the view while he contemplated what sort of jewelry she might like. His guess was something small and delicate, understated and definitely not flashy. Perhaps he could test his theory out, if they found a jewelry shop. He was roused from his musings by the increased agitation of the puppy which was now trying to jump out of the enclosure, scrabbling fiercely at the door, falling over every time she jumped.

“Oh dear, you’ve got yerself a right problem now,” muttered Seth. “Downright ridiculously loyal Creelers are.”

“Creeler? Isn’t that just a dog?” asked Harry, gesturing at the enclosure, perplexed. Seth shook his head.

“Nup. That there is a Creeler,” he said emphatically. “Some bright spark thought it would be a good idea to breed a Crup and a Blue Heeler. Now you got the intense loyalty of a Crup mixed with the intelligence and loyalty of a Heeler. And what yer gets is one mighty loyal dog that seems to know which witch or wizard they want to belong ter. And unless I miss my guess, and I never do, that Creeler there has picked her.”

“Oh look, Harry!” cried Ginny. “Isn’t she beautiful?” The small white puppy had a large black patch over one eye and ear, a stout little body and strong muscular legs. Her ears flopped about as she trotted across the encolsure to get a look at Harry. Her tail had already been docked and she sported another patch on one shoulder. She nearly overbalanced as she sat down, cocking her head curiously at Harry, looking at him with big, soulful eyes. Harry could not fathom how Ginny had taught her that in such a short period of time.

“Well, all I can say is our firstborn had better be a boy, because I’m already outnumbered,” was all Harry said with a sigh as he held out his hand and said, “better get that paperwork.” Harry arranged with Seth to have the Creeler stay there until they left for home. At first Seth had been sceptical that the permits would go through in such a short time, explaining that he’d always found the British Ministry to be particularly slow at processing animal permit requests because the Minister himself had to rubber stamp them personally. Ginny assured him that it was not going to be a problem this time and suggested that they send the paperwork straight to Percy so that it didn’t get waylaid by some well meaning Ministry official. When he realised that they knew the Minister personally Seth agreed to keep the Creeler until they were ready to leave because it was patently unfair, and probably not possible, to drag the animal around Australia on a bus.

“She can stay with Hagrid while we’re in school,” chattered Ginny excitedly as they left Animalia, the paperwork clutched tightly in her hand and Harry’s money pouch considerably lighter. “He’ll love that, a new breed and everything. Oh she’s just so cute, Harry. Did you see her big brown eyes? And she’s got that adorable patch over one eye. We have to think of a name for her!”

“She reminds me of Tonks,” mused Harry as he crossed the street to the Post Office. Suddenly realising what that sounded like he stammered, “n-not that Tonks was in any way a dog. It’s the clumsy thing …” he trailed off uncertainly as Ginny stopped dead in the middle of the street and he pulled her to the side just in time to stop her being run over by an erratic witch on a bicycle who turned to wave a fist at them threateningly and promptly rode into a pile of cauldrons, both rider and cauldrons clattering to the ground, bringing the proprietor of the cauldron shop out, shrieking. Ginny watched the altercation as the bike riding witch huffily straightened out the wheel of her bicycle with her wand and a well aimed spell and then Ginny turned her glistening eyes to Harry. He was alarmed because he did not think she’d been so upset as to be crying over a near miss with a cyclist.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked warily but Ginny surprised him by smiling at him and throwing her arms around his neck. She sniffed and swiped at the corners of her eyes.

“It’s perfect,” she whispered to him and proceeded to give him quite the most delightful snog he had experienced in quite some time, since breakfast, in fact. Harry was not one to pass up, or question, a good snog and wrapped his arms around her waist as he got into the spirit of things by coaxing her tongue back into his own mouth and sliding one hand up into her hair. He had no idea what had been perfect before the kiss but he was pretty sure that now, it was this moment.

When Ginny eventually pulled away and looked up at him, the parchment forms clutched in her hand behind his head, rustling in the slight breeze and her eyes shining, lips swollen. Harry smiled. She beamed back. Smoothing her hair and tugging lightly on the ends Harry said,

“What’s perfect?”

“Her name,” breathed Ginny. “You thought of the most perfect name!” Harry frowned.

“I did?” Ginny nodded enthusiastically.

“We’re going to name her after Tonks!”

“You want to call her Tonks?” he asked somewhat suspiciously. It seemed about as appropriate as calling a vicious three headed dog Fluffy. Ginny shook her head impatiently.

“No, we’re going to call her Dora!” she exclaimed, “Dora the dog!”

“She’s a Creeler,” corrected Harry automatically. Ginny waved her hand impatiently behind his head and the parchment she was holding rustled against his head in a rather annoying fashion.

“Details, details,” she proclaimed as she untangled herself from his embrace and grabbed his hand, dragging him into the Post Office where they were stopped abruptly by a rather annoyed looking wizard in a most unbecoming pointed hat.

“You young people today have absolutely no propriety!” he said, waving his finger at them in what he obviously thought was a menacing fashion before stalking out the door.

“Oh don’t worry about old Vernon,” came a bright voice from the rear of the Post Office. “I swear he’s been grumpy since the day he was born!” Harry rather thought the name was appropriate and he stuck his head out into the street to watch Vernon stop and berate a small boy who was waving a lollipop carelessly as he skipped along the footpath.

“Cheery fellow,” said Harry sarcastically has he drew his head back into the shop and focused on the Postmistress who was sorting parcels and tying them to the legs of some rather interesting birds that rather reminded him of Cocky. She finished her task and came forward to the counter.

“Now, what can I help you two with today?” she said. Her eyes crinkled up at the corners pleasantly when she smiled and her hair was sneakily escaping the bun she had tied it in that morning. She wore a large apron with oversized pockets that bulged with pieces of string.

“We need the quickest way to send this back to London,” explained Ginny. The Postmistress rummaged under the counter for a moment and pulled out a rather large envelope.

“Well, your best bet is sending it by Mail Portkey. You could send it by birds but it takes an awful long time and there’s always the risk of it getting lost in one of the transfers,” as she spoke she opened a drawer and withdrew a roll of Spellotape, a pot of ink and a quill. “It’s a bit more expensive mind but a lot quicker. It should be there this time tomorrow.” Ginny quickly filled out the paperwork required for a Mail Portkey and the witch behind the counter sealed their permit application in the envelope. Summoning down a Barn Owl she attached the envelope to its leg and sent it to the International Portkey Station at the Airport while Harry counted out the appropriate fee.

“Oh, so beautiful,” breathed Ginny. Harry looked up to see a pale pink bird had swooped in bearing a large box and landed on the counter.

“We’re not getting a bird, Ginny,” he said warily but Ginny just laughed.

“What sort of bird is it?” she asked the Postmistress. “It looks a bit like Cocky.”

“Well that’s because it is a cocky!” laughed the Postmistress, untying the parcel from its leg and letting the cocky fly up to a perch above the window where Harry could see a collection of similar birds in different hues ranging from majestic black with a red tail, through to grey and yellow and the impressive white they had seen before. The pink bird seemed to lord it over them all in splendor despite the fact that after taking a long drink it tucked it’s head under it’s wing and went to sleep.

“But you just used an owl,” said Ginny in confusion. “Why was that bird bringing mail?” The Postmistress finished tying the large parcel to a large owl which took off through a specially designed hole in the roof before answering.

“Well, most of the Australian owls are endangered,” she explained simply. “There’s a decent amount of Barn Owls and Boobooks and a few others but there’s just not that many owls really. Occasionally you get a few Rurus, New Zealand Boobooks they are, hanging about as well on the East coast like here but basically the Barn Owl’s just not as adapted to the climates as Cockatoos.

“Galahs are completely useless of course, dozy birds, and Corellas are just too small to carry anything much but they are earnest little things, some folks like ‘em. There’s just too many climates here and no one bird suitable to fly them all. Those Major Mitchell’s are suited to the Western Deserts,” she stopped and indicated the magnificent pink bird that had flown in earlier. “So if you’re wanting to send something to or from there you use a Major Mitchell for that bit. You can get those white ones — Sulphur Crested they are, to go up north or along the east coast. Your Black ones will go south west and your grey down south, really very easy once you get the hang of it. Owls and Boobooks you can use for shorter trips but they get a bit disoriented if you try and get ‘em to fly across too much desert.”

“Goodness,” said Ginny in wonder, “the distances sure do make things tricky around here.”

“Bit of a nasty shock for some people,” nodded the Postmistress. “You can’t just expect to be in the next city by lunchtime. It can take days to get to the top end if Ernie’s having a busy time of it on the bus.”

“Days?” goggled Ginny, “how can it take days?”

“It’s just that big, love,” shrugged the Postmistress as if this were completely normal. “If Ernie’s got enough stops and you’re the last one to get on, well you could be waiting a while. Always best to bring a packed lunch or two on the bus. Course it never usually takes that long, but most people like to be prepared.”

“I hope it doesn’t take days to get to wherever it was Hermione said we’re going,” muttered Harry.

“Oh, you’re going on the bus then?”

“Yes,” Ginny nodded, “down south somewhere, tomorrow.”

“Best take a lunch then,” said the Postmistress nodding sagely. “Mondays is when the chess club all gets on. Got a standing booking they have, every Sunday they get on the bus and come here to play chess and every Monday off they go home. Ernie sometimes complains it takes him all day to take the chess club home never mind the rest of the passengers.” Harry thought that being trapped on a bus with an entire chess club was not the most promising thing he’d ever heard of but Ginny echoed his thoughts as they left the Post Office when she said,

“Ron should appreciate that then.”

They continued their lazy stroll down Origin Alley, buying Kiwi flavoured ice cream at a small stall next to a barber and browsing an extensive bookstore. The sign in the apothecary window proclaimed that it would sell Billywigs only to persons of age and they both spent quite some time fossicking in the Sports Supply store and exploring the AQL teams and specialised Quidditch gear for the Australian climates. They picked up a book on Australian Quidditch for Ron, a rather fancy quill for Hermione and something called a mystery box for George from a joke and costume shop, hoping that it would do something interesting that would enable them to take the mickey out of him.

They kept to no timetable, stopping for lunch only when Ginny’s stomach rumbled loudly causing her to blush in embarrassment and Harry to double over with laughter. Harry watched carefully as Ginny pressed her nose to a jeweller’s window and pointed out a rather ornate glittering necklace she thought her mother would love and then studied the delicate chains and small glittering pendants, exclaiming over several that featured a small stone that flashed with many different colours. Ginny did not attempt to enter this store either and Harry, deciding that he stood no chance of buying her a surprise birthday gift today, did not enter either but he had guessed correctly about her jewellery preferences. He smiled to himself as they moved away from the jewelry store arm in arm, towards a window filled mannequins dressed in a variety of dress and every day robes.

The shadows lengthened and it grew colder as they huddled together, walking back towards the hotel and Harry looked up into the fading blue sky and thought how it had been a wonderful day and how much he had learned just by being with Ginny on a peaceful day filled with sunshine and her smile. They’d done simple things together, bought gifts for family and friends, sent mail and sampled food; they’d even bought themselves a pet. It was the sort of peaceful future he’d dreamed of with Ginny and he smiled softly to himself as he hugged her closer and decided that if he dared to dream them, then perhaps his dreams really would come true.
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