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Missions
By Calliope

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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:None
Genres: Fluff, Humor, Romance
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 33
Summary: Harry gave himself a new mission every day.
Hitcount: Story Total: 8656



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
Well...I'm back.




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Harry gave himself a new mission every day.

He never gave himself quests; he had rather enough of other people giving him those. Missions, though, were a treat. He’d accomplished several in the last few weeks of his sixth year until the quests got in the way for quite a while. Now that he felt like he had all the time in the world, however, missions once again took priority.

-o-

He remembered how much fun his first mission had been.

Harry awoke early the Sunday morning after the Quidditch finals feeling absurdly content but not quite remembering why. He lay under the covers, enjoying the sounds of the morning. The chirping of the birds was a cheerful sound rather than annoying, and even Neville’s snores seemed soothing and familiar.

He stretched out, yawning, trying to decide whether he should get up or go back to sleep — both options sounded unusually tempting — and relishing the pull on his muscles as he elongated his body as far as it would go. When he smacked his lips back together in satisfaction, he noted that they were a bit tender…maybe even a little chapped…Harry felt himself grin lazily as the reason for his good mood came rushing back.

Oh, yeah.

And that was the morning he decided that his mission for the day was to find out exactly where that flowery smell was coming from.

-o-

Sitting next to Ginny at breakfast, Harry took in a deep breath as she reached across him for the orange juice. He smelled that delicious scent, all right, but it wasn’t any stronger. It wasn’t coming from her clothes, then. He supposed that didn’t make much sense, either; the house-elves did the laundry, after all, and if her clothes smelled like that then so would his. Harry smiled slightly at the thought and, for no good reason other than the fact that he could, nudged Ginny with his thigh under the table.

-o-

In the common room, mid-morning, Ginny was tucked under Harry’s arm as they chatted with Ron and Hermione, drawing looks from all over the common room. Harry noticed the stares only when a third-year actually walked into a table, having had her attention focused across the room rather than on where she was going.

“Oh, Arnold’s not afraid of Crookshanks,” Ginny was saying dismissively. “It’s just a game.”

“How do you know?” asked Hermione, still looking vaguely worried.

“I’ve seen them at it. And when Crookshanks actually does catch Arnold, he just bats him back and forth like a ball. I think Arnold rather enjoys it, actually.”

Hermione laughed. “Now that I’d like to see.”

“I’ll show you this afternoon,” said Ginny brightly. “Bring Crookshanks down for a play date and I’ll bring Arnold. It’s really pretty funny, he can hide his entire face in all that fuzz of his.”

Hermione looked thoughtful. “I never considered it before, but all sorts of things must get caught in his fur when he’s rolling around like that. It’s awfully easily tangled, isn’t it?”

“I just brush it out every night before bed. It’s really not so bad, and it’s too cute to cut. I love all that purple mess.”

“Maybe you should dye your hair purple, Harry,” Ron piped up with a smirk.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Thanks, mate, good idea.”

Ginny giggled and reached her hand up to ruffle his hair, screwing up her face in mock scrutiny as she did so. “I’m not so sure about purple, Harry, it might clash with your eyes. Blue, though, could set them off nicely. Or green to match!”

Harry chuckled, enjoying the feel of her fingers in his hair. “Trying to make me the Slytherin mascot, are you?”

Ginny wrinkled her nose. “I hope you’re not considering red. I mean, I know you love Gryffindor and all, but your face would end up in Christmas colors. I like Christmas as much as the next girl, but it is spring, after all.”

“Don’t worry, I think Gryffindor has more than enough redheads already,” Harry said, smirking.

The hand that was in Harry’s hair slapped him lightly on the back of the head. Harry grabbed Ginny’s wrist and pulled it down in front of his face, planting a kiss on her palm. Ginny’s look of pretend anger evaporated to be replaced by a brilliant smile and she laid her head on his shoulder, ignoring a vaguely choked sound from Ron in the next chair.

Before Harry placed their now-joined hands on his thigh, he briefly passed Ginny’s wrist in front of his nose and sniffed. Ginny, her eyes now closed contentedly, noticed nothing.

Well, that’s not it. It could still be perfume, though, if…

Harry furrowed his brow in thought. Where else did girls wear perfume? He suddenly remembered Aunt Petunia, before one of Uncle Vernon’s client dinners, spraying perfume into the air and walking through the mist, making Harry cough violently. Maybe Ginny did that…he hoped not, though, because that would sort of defeat the purpose of his mission. He’d just have to use process of elimination and check everything else first.

Another sudden image popped into his head, of Lavender at breakfast sometime in February. Her morning snog with Ron had been interrupted by an owl with a package. She squealed loudly when it was opened to reveal a new perfume that she had ordered and proceeded to put it on immediately, insisting that Ron smell her neck and tell her what he thought.

Her neck.

Harry smiled. Checking that one could be fun. Harder to do without Ginny noticing, but as he glanced down at the top of her head nestled into the crook of his shoulder, he decided he was up to the challenge.

-o-

At lunch, though, Ginny opted to sit across from Harry, foiling his plans for the next half-hour or so. She and Hermione fell into chatter about various subjects while Harry listened to Ron’s version of yesterday’s match. While Harry appreciated the fact that Ginny ran her foot along his as they held their own respective conversations, there was no chance to get anywhere near her neck.

Even worse, Ginny and Hermione’s conversation had turned to Ginny’s O.W.L.s by the time Harry drained his glass of pumpkin juice, and Ginny was grudgingly admitting that she should probably spend a few hours in the library revising for Transfiguration.

“You don’t need to do that,” blurted out Harry, horrified.

Hermione, if possible, looked even more horrified. “Of course she does, Harry! Do you know how close to exam time it is?”

“But — but Ginny, do you really even have trouble with Transfiguration? I mean, that tortoise you showed me the other day was really good…” Harry was aware that he probably seemed a bit desperate, but he couldn’t let Ginny disappear into the stacks of the library for hours at a time this afternoon. Two passing Ravenclaws collided, having been gazing in Harry and Ginny’s direction.

Ginny was looking hopeful. “Yeah, I guess it was — I finally got it to go all green…” She glanced at Hermione pleadingly, and while Harry knew he would have caved in a second when faced with that look, Hermione remained firm.

“Ginny, it broke into pieces when Crookshanks pounced on it.”

Ginny groaned. “Fine, fine. But see if he gets a play date this afternoon.” She looked apologetically at Harry, who was fighting the urge to pour the remainder of Hermione’s pumpkin juice on her head.

-o-

After sitting restlessly in the common room with Ron and Hermione for an hour or so after lunch, Harry couldn’t take it anymore. He stood abruptly, nearly knocking over their chess game.

“I’m going for a walk,” he said absently.

Both regarded him suspiciously. “Where are you going to walk?” asked Hermione shrewdly.

Harry shrugged, hoping he appeared nonchalant. “Maybe I’ll get a snack from the kitchens…stroll around the lake…stop by the library,” he added under his breath, hoping Hermione hadn’t noticed it.

She certainly looked like she had something to say, but Ron cut across her loudly. “If you go to the kitchens, grab me an extra biscuit, will you?” He was staring at the chessboard again, but he was a bit pink around the ears.

Hermione glared at Ron as Harry grinned. “Ron! You know he’s not going to the kitchens, he’s going to the library to distract Ginny!”

“Well, if he’s snogging my sister in the library, maybe they won’t do it in front of me,” Ron hissed.

Hermione turned back to Harry, but he was halfway across the common room. “Willdoronseeyoulaterbye!”

And the portrait slammed shut behind him.

-o-

Harry found Ginny the moment he walked in the door of the library. She was sitting alone at a table near the Transfiguration section. She was facing away from him, hunched over a book and her right arm looked like it was twitching nervously. As Harry drew closer to her, feeling reassured by her mere presence in the same room, he tried to convince himself that she looked overstressed and needed the break. His mind knew it was a weak argument, but the monster in his chest was easily swayed and Harry’s stride never broke.

As he came up silently behind Ginny, he saw that she didn’t even have her Transfiguration book out, but rather her Charms book. Now that he was closer, he could see that the twitch in her arm was really the wand movement for a Silencing Charm, the sharp jab that Hermione had spent so long perfecting in him and Ron.

Harry smiled when he noticed that her long hair was pulled into some sort of messy bun and her neck was exposed. Maybe this would be easier than he thought. He leaned down behind Ginny, who had yet to notice his presence, and kissed her on the cheek. Rather than jumping or showing any sign of surprise, Ginny merely smiled as Harry rested his chin on her shoulder, kneeling behind her.

“I thought you were going to work on Transfiguration.”

Ginny blew an errant lock of hair out of her face and said exasperatedly, “I just couldn’t, not on a Sunday. I am still studying, I just like Charms so much better…” her voice trailed off and she turned to Harry, giving him a sheepish grin. “Not to mention a Silencing Charm is going to come in very handy around the Burrow as soon as I can do magic at home. More so than the ability to turn a henhouse into a hippogriff, anyway.”

Her face was very close, and Harry couldn’t resist flicking his eyes from side to side to check for Madam Pince, then ducking in to kiss her on the mouth when his search revealed an unusually large amount of students looking in their direction, but no librarian.

Ginny let out a long breath, as though she had been holding it for a long time. It was vaguely minty. “I think I’ve studied enough for today, don’t you?”

Harry reached past her and closed her book. Ginny laughed. “Okay. Let’s get out of here.”

Harry stood to help Ginny clear her books and notes, but as he did he turned his head to her neck, right under her ear, and took a whiff. His urge to groan in frustration was quickly silenced as Ginny held her now full bag out to him, smiling brightly. He chuckled and slung the bag over his own shoulder, taking her hand as they left the library.

-o-

Ginny and Harry explored the grounds in silence, hand in hand. Every once in a while Harry would glance down at Ginny and bask in the pleasure of being able to hold her hand whenever he wanted, but mostly he wracked his brain about how to complete his mission.

There wasn’t anyplace else girls wore perfume, was there? Everyplace else on their bodies was covered up by robes, so what would be the point?

By the time they found a promising-looking grassy area on the far side of the lake, surrounded on three sides by high bushes, Harry had reluctantly decided his mission would have to go uncompleted for the time. He would have to wait until sometime he could see Ginny getting ready in the morning; he hoped she wouldn’t do Aunt Petunia’s perfume thing while he was in the room, it made him sneeze…

A jolt ran through Harry as he realized he had more or less just allowed the thought of living with Ginny someday. A second, more pleasurable jolt followed as he realized he didn’t mind that thought at all.

Ginny was now sitting cross-legged on the ground, looking up at him expectantly. “Coming down?”

Harry nodded fervently, knowing he was grinning stupidly, and after dumping Ginny’s bag unceremoniously on the ground, took her face in his hands and kissed her. He immediately felt consolation for his failed mission.

Yesterday they had been behind the Quidditch changing rooms and Harry had found himself pressing Ginny up against the wall. He vaguely wondered, as he drew her lower lip into his mouth and relished the sound she made, whether today they would get to try a reclining position…

Before he knew it they were falling slowly toward the ground, Ginny pulling him with her as her back met the ground. Struck by a sudden idea, Harry reached to his right and groped blindly, unwilling to relinquish Ginny’s mouth. Finally his fingertips brushed canvas and he pulled the bag closer, lifting Ginny’s head to place the bag under her as a rather lumpy pillow. He wondered if that had been the wrong thing when Ginny broke their kiss and looked at him wonderingly for a moment, but any loss he felt was filled when she rewarded him with one of her most dazzling smiles. That smile was going to be the death of him, and that was simply fine.

He was about to dart in to resume when Ginny frowned briefly, reaching behind her head. “Hang on, Harry, this band is getting in the way…” and she removed the elastic that was holding her hair in a bump on the back of her head. Her silky red hair tumbled down over her shoulders, and Ginny half-sat up, lifting her shoulders off the ground to shake it out.

As she did so, Harry, not quite knowing why, breathed in deeply. His eyes popped open as the flowery smell washing over him in waves registered. Her hair. Why hadn’t he thought of it? He was an idiot. He was…

Ginny was lying back down with her head on the bag, her hair now flowing over the bag to the grass.

He was brilliant, was what he was. And before he kissed her again, he leaned down and buried his face in her hair, breathing deeply. When he came back up for air, Ginny was looking at him quizzically.

“You smell nice,” said Harry.

Ginny looked delighted, even as she said, “Well, I expect anyone who shares a room with Ron would be pleasantly surprised by the smell of shampoo, yes.”

Harry laughed and finally kissed her again, and didn’t come back up again for a long time. On the way back up to Gryffindor Tower some period of time later, a period that was somehow both eons and moments, they stopped in the kitchen and picked up a tin of biscuits for Ron.

-o-

His missions continued from that day on. Sometimes they were something small, like to make her laugh at least five times before she went up to bed. A few times it was just to get her alone for a few minutes without Ron or Hermione or any of their observers around.

When he was allowed to take them up again he did so immediately.

The first day, he made her smile. It was a sad smile, but it was genuine.

Soon, he told her everything he’d been up to during her sixth year.

He had favorites, of course.

The first time he got her to moan his name.

The night he got her to stay with him for the first time and finally did see her getting ready in the morning, like he had imagined that day down by the lake.

The day he found the perfect engagement ring.

It took two days to talk her into trying to start a family; Ginny wasn’t sure yet that she was ready to leave her team. But finally she agreed with him, and the next day he accomplished two missions, just to make up for it. That was the day Ginny learned to flip a pancake properly the Muggle way…and, Harry was quite sure, the day James was conceived.

Quests were over and done with, but Harry thought he could possibly come up with enough missions to last him a lifetime.

FIN
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