Well, Harry and Ginny’s flirtatious little games proved very popular in the last chapter; just as well there are a few more of them in this one.
A should also say a quick thank you to everyone who has left a review of this story or had a guess at the killer’s identity. It’s been fun reading them all.
Huge thanks as always to Arnel for her beta work. She knows the contents of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes stockroom better than I!
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Harry Potter and the Nameless Man | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Action/Adventure Warnings: Death, Disturbing Imagery, Extreme Language, Intimate Sexual Situations, Violence Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 362 Summary: Newly appointed probationary Auror Ginny Weasley wanted to do something more meaningful with her life than just play Quidditch. Newly promoted Assistant Head Auror Harry Potter has problems, not least of all that his ex-girlfriend has just moved in with another man. When a pure-blood hunting serial killer suddenly appears, will the Departments latest recruit be a help or a distraction for him? Hitcount: Story Total: 80432; Chapter Total: 7686 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
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Maintaining a stealthy crouch, Harry jogged forward as fast he could while trying to keep to the shadows. Although he had a Disillusion Charm cast on him, the darkness would hide the giveaway blurring effect the charm suffered from when moving quickly. He could clearly see Miles Woodhouse walking briskly about twenty yards in front of him. He’d been following the man ever since the Healer had left Paddington railway station. It looked very much like he was heading towards the canal. The Tracking Charm Howell Owen had placed on Woodhouse had alerted the Aurors to the man’s unusual movements. For the last few days, Woodhouse had limited himself to traveling between St Mungo’s and his home, but for some reason tonight he had broken that routine. Harry was determined to know why. Woodhouse turned and started to descend a set of steps that Harry knew led to a modern and highly expensive block of flats. Rather than enter the black-glass fronted building, however, the Healer followed the path to the right of the complex and joined the footpath that ran alongside the canal. This was a popular area, with a number of pubs and restaurants situated along the route, any one of which could have been the man’s destination. Woodhouse ignored the trendy drinking establishments and instead crossed the canal via a small metal footbridge. He was now entering an area of London known as Little Venice. Keeping as close behind the Healer as he dared, Harry tried to guess where the man was heading. When Woodhouse darted through a metal gate, Harry realised he was entering the small park that was situated in front of the canal lock. The park was fairly sheltered as it was a level below the main road which ran next to it. The fact that Woodhouse was visiting it in the pitch-black of the night instantly made Harry suspicious. Woodhouse halted in front of a small Victorian toilet block which served the park. He thrust his hands into the pockets of the thick overcoat he was wearing, and stamped his feet to ward off the cold. He was clearly waiting for someone. “I’m here,” whispered a voice in Harry’s ear. He knew it was Susan, who had been tracking both Woodhouse and himself by means of the charm. She was also Disillusioned, and so had whispered to him to let him know she was nearby and ready. He knew the other three team members would be converging on the point that very moment. Despite being rather distant, Harry was glad that his friend was at least talking to him again. He’d felt a keen sense of injustice at her cold shoulder for the last few days. It was her, after all, that had made him promised that he would prevent any intimacy between them. Still, he’d long since given up trying to predict Susan’s reactions to anything he did. The situation did give him pause for thought, however. Previously, his rift with Susan would have left him feeling abandoned and dreadfully lonely. This time, however, he found himself much less troubled by her behaviour. Initially, he had put this down to the increased distance between the two of them, and his decision to finally accept that they would never be together. The more he thought about it, the more he realised there was probably a very good reason why he was less concerned about the situation. That reason was Ginny Weasley. From the moment he had laid eyes on her he had thought her attractive. After getting a chance to get to know her a bit, he had revised that assessment to lovely. Now, having seen her dressed in nothing more than a clinging, wet towel, he would rate her as bloody gorgeous. But it wasn’t just her looks that attracted him. She had already proven herself a competent and intelligent Auror just a few months into the job. Ginny also had a mental strength which allowed her to act upon her convictions, no matter what anyone else might think. She was also just a fun person to be around. Since she’d moved into Grimmauld Place, Harry had laughed more than he had for ages, certainly since his godfather had died. The two of them certainly seem to get on well. Now the only question was should he try for more from the relationship? Harry shook his head. Now was not the time to think about such things. He forced his attention back onto the mission, while mentally chastising himself for being so unprofessional. Not that he appeared to have missed much; Woodhouse remained standing in exactly the same spot. It was another ten minutes before anything happened. In the still, cold air Harry heard the woman’s approach before he saw her; her high-heeled shoes making a distinctive clicking sound on the pavement. The woman’s face appeared over the railing that overlooked the small park and, after seeing Woodhouse standing there, she descended the steps that led down to where he was standing. She was impeccably dressed in an expensive looking coat and silk scarf. Harry thought that her high-heels were inappropriate for the bitterly cold weather and for the apparently nefarious activities she was indulging in. Were they witnessing some secret romantic rendezvous? The attractive Indian-looking woman was far out of the portly, grizzled Woodhouse’s league to Harry’s eye. The woman gave a nervous glance around as she approached Woodhouse. In fact, Harry thought she looked rather anxious. Maybe something illegal was going on, after all? After a few hastily exchanged words which Harry unfortunately couldn’t catch, the woman reached into her coat and withdrew an envelope which she handed over to the Healer. Woodhouse took the envelope and jammed it into a pocket of his overcoat. He then took a small object out of his trouser pocket and, to Harry’s great surprise; he withdrew his wand and cast an Enlarging Charm. The small object turned out to be a medium sized bag which Woodhouse handed to the woman. She grabbed it eagerly and peered inside as if to check the contents. Harry agonised what to do. Every instinct in his body told him that something illegal was going on in front of him. However, they had tracked and followed Woodhouse tonight on the assumption that he was the killer and was heading out to find another victim. Could the contents of the bag have anything to do with that or was this something else entirely? Seeing the woman was about to depart, he made his decision. Figuring that if the transaction he had just witnessed was in any way illegal it would give them the grounds to interrogate Woodhouse properly, he leapt into action. Whispered a quick ‘go’ to Susan he cast an Anti-Apparation Ward, knowing that his fellow Auror would be casting a Silencing and Muggle-Repelling Charm around the area. That done, he dispelled the Disillusion Charm on himself and raised his wand. “Auror Department!” he yelled. “Drop your wands and stand still!” Woodhouse looked up in shock and hastily pointed his wand at Harry. The Indian woman shrieked and stared in horror at Harry. A second later, she screamed again as Susan dropped the Disillusion Charm as well. “Drop your wands!” Susan repeated, while pointing her wand at the Indian woman. “Miles, who are these people? What do they want?” The Indian woman screeched in panic. “They’re Aurors, Divya,” Woodhouse informed the woman in a shaky voice. “Magical policemen!” “Police!” the woman yelled even louder. “You said no one would know about this! How did they find out? What will they do to me?” “No harm will come to you, madam, as long as you drop your wand and raise your hands,” Susan insisted. “I haven’t got a wand!” The woman bellowed. “I can’t do magic!” “A Muggle?” Susan exclaimed. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing with a Muggle, Woodhouse?” Woodhouse didn’t reply, however. He nervously shifted his aim from Harry to Susan and back again. He looked like he was on the verge of complete panic. “Just back off or I’ll hex you!” the Healer warned. “That wouldn’t be a good idea, boyo,” said Howell, who had just appeared at the railing overlooking the park. Woodhouse looked up over his shoulder at the big Auror before shifting his aim back to Harry. The Healer looked like he was really flapping now. “Drop the wand, now,” Harry insisted in a firm voice. “You heard the man,” said Ginny who had just popped into sight to the left of the Indian woman. Woodhouse stared rapidly at each Auror in turn, clearly undecided what to do. He had fear in his eyes, and his whole body was shaking. “You’re outnumbered four to one,” Susan pointed out, “and I really don’t think you stand a chance against any one of us.” “Oh, and you did notice that one of us happens to be Harry Potter?” Ginny pointed out sweetly. “If Voldemort couldn’t beat him, I rather doubt you stand much of a chance!” “Do something, Miles!” the Indian woman screamed. This proved the distraction Harry needed. Not trusting the panicky Healer to do the right thing, Harry sent a silently cast Stunning Spell at the man as soon as he turned his head to answer the woman. Woodhouse dropped like a stone “What have you done?” the woman screamed in horror. “Have you killed him?” “He’ll be fine. He’s just Stunned,” Ginny explained. “Now, why don’t you hand me that bag you’re holding?” The Indian woman hesitated and clutched the bag even tighter to her chest. Harry sighed. Why did people never just accept it when they were in a hopeless situation? “Let me just explain things to you,” Ginny said in a conversational tone. “This little stick I’m pointing at you is a magic wand. I’m a fully trained witch and with this wand I can cast a wide variety of spells, hexes and curses at you. These can range from a mild Tickling Hex to a spell that would kill you stone dead before you even knew what happened. So I’ll ask again, nicely, give me the bag.” For a second, Harry thought the woman was going to try and run, but in the end she proved smarted than Woodhouse had been. With slumped shoulders, the woman held out the bag to Ginny, who quickly took it from her and started to examine the contents. With a frown, she reached in and withdrew a familiar looking bottle. “Skeleton-Grow!” she exclaimed. “There’s blood-replenishment potions, Dreamless Sleep potions, all sorts in here! But what use would they be to a Muggle?” “It’s a common misbelief that magical potions don’t work on Muggles,” Susan explained. “Everyone has some sort of magical core, even if most people’s is too small to ever perform magic. These potions would be far less effective on a Muggle then they would be on us, but they would still work. You have to be careful though; some magical potions can be extremely harmful to Muggles.” “But why were you being given them?” Harry asked the Indian woman. She just clamped her lips together and glared at him. Shaking his head, Harry pointed his wand at her. “Legilimens!” Harry maintained eye contact with the woman for a moment before breaking away in disgust. He turned to his colleagues. “This woman’s name is Divya Bharti and she is a doctor at St James hospital where Healer Woodhouse did his study of Muggle medical techniques. It appears Miss Bharti is a bit of a rising star in the medical community, where no one can figure out how she manages to obtain such spectacular recovery rates. Of course, we know how, don’t we,” Harry explained. Bharti was staring at him in horror. Walking over to Woodhouse, Harry retrieved the man’s wand before reviving him. He stood over the prone Healer with a disgruntled expression on his face. “Miles Woodhouse, I’m arresting you for illegally trading in potions, suspicion of theft, breaking the International Statute of Secrets, and anything else I can bloody think of before we get back to the Ministry,” Harry growled before handcuffing the sullen man. “So, it looks like Woodhouse has nothing to do with the murders then,” Susan noted as prepared to move the pair. “Yeah, and thanks to this clown we’ve been sent on a wild goose chase,” Harry spat. “I can only hope no one else gets hurt as a result!” HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP The next evening, Ginny was puttering around the kitchen at Grimmauld Place putting the final touches to the beef stew she had prepared for dinner that night. Although she had joked about the standard of her cooking to Harry, when she put her mind to it she was quite capable of producing some fine meals. She’d just never really had the motivation to do so before. Harry had been delayed at the Ministry and Ginny suspected he was having a hard time explaining to Robards why the team had been trailing an unimportant petty criminal for the last few days rather than the serial killer. She ground her teeth in frustration at the turn of events. Once they had got Woodhouse and Bharti back to the Ministry, the whole story had come out. While Woodhouse had been at the Muggle hospital the potential for a bit of extra income had occurred to him. An arrangement was made with the young, ambitious Doctor Bharti after Woodhouse had demonstrated the effects of his ‘miraculous’ potions to her. The Healer then helped himself to St Mungo’s stocks using an elaborate system of forged invoices and treatment records, and sold the supplies directly to the wealthy Bharti who enjoyed a massive boost in her reputation. While Bharti would escape with a simple Obliviation, Woodhouse would be suffering instant dismissal from St Mungo’s, and a lengthy prison sentence. At least the man’s insistence that he had legal representation whenever he spoke to an Auror now made sense. Ginny tried to put the events of the day behind her. Tomorrow was a day off for the team and they could recharge their batteries before restarting their hunt for the killer. Besides, she had other things she needed to take care of tonight. Ever since the incident where Ginny had run into Harry after he had finished his workout, she had been plotting revenge. She still felt a strange fluttering sensation in her stomach when she thought about Harry’s gleaming, sweaty abs and his well-developed muscles. Unfortunately, it was quite clear Harry had been aware of the effect his body was having on her, and had teased her something rotten. Just for a second, when he’d leaned in towards her she’d thought… well, never mind. It was time for some payback. She’d had to take a trip back to the Burrow to retrieve the outfit she was current wearing. In fact, she’d had to go up to the attic and root around a trunk containing a load of her old clothes to find what she’d been looking for. Frankly, she was surprised she could even fit into the items anymore as she’d been about fifteen when she last wore them. Although her outfit was wholly inappropriate for a freezing night in December, Grimmauld Place was at least warm enough that her current level of dress didn’t result in hypothermia. She couldn’t wait to see what effect it had on Harry. Letting the stew simmer, she picked up an old Quidditch magazine and sat down to read. It was around half an hour before she heard the front door slam. Dropping the magazine, she jumped to her feet. For a second she had a moment of panic. What if Harry wasn’t alone? What if he’d picked this day to invite Robards back for dinner? “Harry, is that you?” she called. “Yeah, it’s me,” she heard his voice faintly called. “Sorry I’m late.” “Well, hurry up. Dinner’s ready,” she yelled back. She was pretty sure Harry would have said something then if he’d brought a visitor with him. Mentally, she traced his footsteps until she was certain he must nearly be approaching the kitchen. She quickly got into position as she heard the kitchen door swing open behind her. “Merlin, I thought Robards was going to keep me… gwark!” Harry voice exclaimed. Ginny stood and turned to regard him. She’d had been bent over, seemingly searching for something in one of the low cupboards mounted into the work units. This just happened to accentuate the skin-tight, cut-off denim shorts she was wearing. She’d been amazed she could still fit in them as she was much more developed now than when she had last worn them. She was very pleased to see Harry was standing in the doorway with his eyes bulging. Of course, now she was facing him he had the benefit of seeing her top. To complement her extremely skimpy shorts she’d picked a sleeveless white shirt which, rather than bothering with the buttons, she’d just tied off. This left her mid-drift bare and her cleavage (currently enhanced by her best push-up bra) rather exposed. “Something wrong, Harry?” she asked in her best ‘innocent-little-girl’ voice. “No! Not at all,” Harry said hurriedly. “It’s just…um…wow…that’s quite an outfit you have on, Ginny.” “Oh, do you like it?” she gushed. “I picked up some old things when I popped home the other day. I wasn’t sure if it would fit.” It very nearly didn’t fit. It had taken her nearly fifteen minutes to wiggle into the shorts and even now she was worried they might split. As she had no knickers on that could be embarrassing. Mind you, she was in equal danger of spilling out of her top, not that she thought Harry would mind. “It looks great,” Harry confirmed enthusiastically. “You look fantastic!” Ginny couldn’t help but blush at his compliments. That would never do; she was supposed to be teasing him, not simpering like a schoolgirl at his praise. “Well, sit yourself down. I’ve made a nice hearty beef stew for dinner. I’ll dish some up for you,” she told him. Harry sat down at the table and waited while Ginny ladled a healthy portion of the stew into a bowl. She then deliberately approached him from the opposite side of the table, meaning she had to bend forward to place the bowl in front of him. He tried, bless him. He really tried to divert his gaze. His eyes flickered wildly as he attempted to look anywhere else then Ginny’s chest. He failed. “Thank you,” he said in a somewhat strangled voice. It must have been warm in the kitchen because he seemed to have gone rather red. “You’re welcome,” she purred. “I hope you like it.” They ate largely in silence, but through her lashes Ginny noted Harry’s frequently glances in her direction. Perfect. If he was getting hot and bothered now, just wait until pudding, she thought. After they had both finished their stew, which Harry lavishly praised, Ginny retrieved the bowls. She again stretched over the table to retrieve his empty bowl and was fairly certain she heard a faint whimper escape from the young man. “Peaches and cream for dessert,” she announced. She repeated her stretching exercises in placing the bowl of fruit in front of Harry. By this point he didn’t even pretend to look away. Ginny carefully gathered a dollop of thick, fresh cream onto her spoon and lifted it to her mouth. Somehow, however, it slipped off her slightly tilted spoon landed on her chest. “Oh, how clumsy of me!” she exclaimed. Carefully, she pulled her skimpy top to the side, apparently to stop the cream seeping into the material, but in practice to give Harry even more of an eyeful. She then slowly began wiping up the cream with her finger, lifting the digit to her mouth and sensually sucking it clean. She repeated the action twice more until all the cream was gone. She looked over at Harry who was staring at her open-mouthed. He looked about ready to start chewing the table in frustration. Grinning inwardly, she finished her desert before rubbing a hand over her chest. “I’m all sticky now,” she declared softly. “I think I need a bath.” Ginny walked round the table and leaned down to whisper into Harry’s ear. “I hope you enjoyed…dinner,” she purred. “If you liked it I’m sure I could whip it up for you again. Would you like me to whip it up for you?” “Yeah…great,” Harry said in a strangled voice. “Super. I’ll do it for you…anytime,” she whispered. Standing she headed towards the door, lightly trailing her fingers through Harry’s hair as she went. She walked slowly with an exaggerated swing of her hips. By the time she walked through the kitchen door she could hear Harry banging his head on the kitchen table and moaning softly. Damn, that was fun, she thought. Humming happily to herself, she headed up the stairs to reward herself with a good, long soak. HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP The next day, Ginny made her way down to the kitchen in a good mood. After her successful teasing of Harry, she’d enjoyed an hour-long bath before returning to her room and snuggling up in front of the fire with a good book. Her plan had worked even better than she hoped and the sight of Harry practical drooling over her had been very gratifying, not to mention quite arousing, too. It had also given her cause to think. Judging by the look on his face last night, it wouldn’t have taken much more for Harry to leap up, tear her clothes off and ravish her. The question was, did she want him to? Before she’d moved into Grimmauld Place, the answer would probably have been no. Well, probably no. He seemed fixated with Susan and from everything she had heard she doubted he would have been interested in anything approaching a normal relationship. If there was one thing Ginny didn’t do it was one night stands. But having moved into Harry’s home her outlook had changed. She began to realise a lot of her opinions about the man had been formed from information given to her by other people, principally Susan. Ginny didn’t think her friend had purposely lied, but rather Susan’s beliefs about the man were either out of date or skewered by her own emotions. Harry had been proved to be a kind, generous and fun companion. He also seemed to have gotten over Susan; Sonia’s belief that Susan’s relationship with Ernie Macmillan had forced him to move on apparently being correct. All this meant one thing. Harry was fair game. So, it boiled down to what to do next. Harry seemed interest in her and she was interested in him. The fact that they worked together was largely irrelevant; although there were none in the Department at present, in the past it was not unknown for husbands and wives to work on the same Auror team. Although Harry was her boss, that seemed unimportant. He just wasn’t the sort of bloke that would allow that to affect anything. Perhaps her only concern was the fact that they were sharing a house; what would happen if any relationship they entered into broke down? Even this felt like a minor concern to her. If things did go tits-up she could always move back home. Ginny was pondering these thoughts as she entered the kitchen in search of some breakfast. As she walked through the door she stopped short as if she’d been smacked in the face with a plank. Harry was already in the kitchen lounging against the worktop with a mug of tea in one hand and a carefully folded copy of the paper in the other. He was wearing a pair of jeans. Just a pair of jeans, nothing else. Just a pair of worn, skin-tight jeans that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. As she entered Harry looked up and greeted her with a grin. “Morning, Ginny. How are you today?” Ginny gasped. So this was Harry’s response to her teasing the previous night. She briefly wondered how much further they could escalate things before they both ended up running around stark naked. But it didn’t matter. This had to stop now. She squared her shoulders and with her eyes blazing she marched up to him. She carefully removed the cup from his hand and set it down on the side before plucking the paper from his fingers and tossing it casually away. “This has got to end!” she growled before reaching up and grabbing him by the hair. Using all her strength, she pulled the surprised man’s head down and crushed her lips to his. After the briefest of pauses, she felt Harry wrap his arms round her and eagerly return the kiss. As first kisses go, it was a beauty. The second their lips met Ginny felt like a boxful of her brother George’s Wildfire Whiz-Bangs had been set off in her head. Before she knew it, their hands were roaming over each other’s bodies and their tongues were battling together in an erotic dance. Ginny felt the dressing gown she’d been wearing being ripped from her leaving her standing in just a t-shirt and her knickers. She felt Harry’s hands slipping underneath her shirt and start to caress her flesh. In turn, she took the opportunity to run her hands over Harry’s firm abdominal muscles that she had so admired previously. Pretty soon, she felt herself being pressed back against the kitchen table as Harry forced his body against her. She could feel his arousal pressed against her leg and it excited her wildly. She moaned in pleasure as his right hand began to massage her breast. Merlin, they were going to end up doing it right here on the kitchen table! The kitchen table? Just like he did with Susan? Oh, crap. “Harry, we have to stop a second,” she said pulling her lips from his. Harry for his part didn’t seem to hear her and started to plaster kisses along her neck, causing her to shiver with arousal. She could believe what she was about to do. “Harry? HARRY! Stop, please,” she begged, pushing him away. Harry pulled back in confusion. A second later his expression turned to one of consternation. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Ginny! I thought you… oh, hell. I’m so, so sorry,” he started to gabble. “No, Harry, just stop for a second,” she pleaded, caressing his cheek with her hand. “It’s okay; I wanted it as much as you did. You didn’t do anything wrong.” “Then why did you stop us?” he asked with a frown. “Because we’re going too fast. I don’t want a relationship based on just sex. I don’t want us to be like you and Susan.” Harry flinched like he’d been slapped in the face. For a second, Ginny thought that he was going to rage at her, but instead he slumped back into a chair. For a long time he just stared ahead of him in complete silence. “So, where do we go from here?” he asked eventually, his voice sombre. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Do you want to try giving us a go as a couple?” “I make a horrible boyfriend,” Harry admitted with a sad smile. “I get caught up in work and forget to do things I’ve promised. I never remember to buy flowers or chocolates. I don’t…” “Harry!” Ginny cut him off. “I’m an ex-Harpy and now I’m an Auror like you. Do you think I care if you buy me flowers? I’d probably forget to put them in water and they’d die anyway.” Harry snorted in amusement at that. “I know what it’s like trying to do our line of work, and I know that we won’t always have the freedom to do what we want. The job comes first, right?” she continued. “But I don’t think we’re actually that far from having a pretty good relationship right now. We seem to have this whole house-sharing thing down pretty good, and we have a laugh while we’re doing it. The way I see it, we just need to continue the way we’re going and just step things up a bit. Do more things together.” “What sort of things?” Harry asked. “Oh, you know. The usual boyfriend/girlfriend stuff; going to the pub, going out for the odd meal, maybe watching a Quidditch match together,” Ginny suggested. “Look at it this way; the more meals you take me out for, the less you have to suffer my cooking!” “But I like your cooking!” Harry protested. “That said, I’ve got no problem with us going out together occasionally. Maybe we could do something today?” “I’ve already promised my parents that I’d visit them today, I’m afraid,” she said apologetically. “But that does bring up a good point. What are you doing for Christmas?” “Christmas?” he replied, looking confused. “Um, nothing particularly. I haven’t really celebrated Christmas for years.” “Yeah, I’ve heard how you and Susan used to spend the holidays,” she teased. “But how would you like to have a proper Christmas this year? We always have a big family blow-out and you could come with me. My family will want to meet you anyway and this way you won’t be by yourself.” “I don’t want to impose,” Harry said hesitantly. “You won’t be. My mother would never turn a hungry mouth away from her table,” Ginny assured him. “It would mean a lot to me if you came.” “Okay, I’ll come,” Harry sighed. “Great, we’ve been a couple for all of five minutes and you’re already wrapping me round you little finger.” “Get used to it,” she laughed before reaching over and gently kissing him. “Now, why don’t you go and slip on a t-shirt while I start breakfast? I don’t think I quite trust myself with you prancing round half-naked.” “Oh?” he said with a cheeky grin. “Maybe I should stay like this then?” Ginny slapped him playfully on the thigh. “Out! And don’t come back until you’re decent!” Harry stood and looked at her with one of his lop-sided grins that drove her wild. Then, slowly, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was slow, passionate and very erotic. “I think I’m going to enjoy this,” Harry said after he broke the kiss. He then turned and left the kitchen to go and finish dressing. Ginny watched him go with her heart pounding and a very wide smile on her lips. |
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