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Keeping Even The Broken Promises | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-Hogwarts Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Romance Warnings: Extreme Language, Sexual Situations Rating: R Reviews: 255 Summary: It's been four years since Harry Potter woke up in a strange city, with no memory. Harry begins an unexpected journey to uncover who he is and what he's left behind. Turns out Harry has broken a lot of promises he doesn't remember making. Will he ever regain his memories? Will he ever be able to live up to any of his promises? Hitcount: Story Total: 85007; Chapter Total: 4940 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: I'm so unbelievably grateful to everyone who has been so supportive and wonderful in reviews, ratings, and messages! I hope you're still enjoying the story as much as I love writing it. Onto chapter 14! A big thank you to my beta, Arnel, who turns my Canadian lingo and cultural nuisances into a British alternative and catches all my silly grammatical errors. |
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Chapter 14: Moving on An Auror’s examination could be anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour, depending on the speed in which a scenario was completed. The exams were conducted in a special room with powerful enchantments on the walls, floor, and ceiling. The room was designed to respond to not only the examiner’s control, but also to the Auror’s actions. If you tried to run from the danger, the room could go on for what seemed like eternity, always leading the Auror back in the direction of the problem. The first time Harry had taken the exam, the realistic experience had nearly given him a heart attack. The enchantments gave the participant a full sensory experience of the scenario. It could transform into a thick forest, complete with poisonous snakes and a running river. It was possible to be bitten by a snake or drown in the river. The room could make a person feel their injuries or see the things the examiner wanted you to see, so long as the examination was running. Harry had seen countless young Aurors being carried from the room after passing out or slipping into shock. It was so real that the Auror examination room made the Room of Requirement and the Hogwarts ceiling look like cheap magic tricks. The exams were designed to test every skill imaginable. Spells were only a minor part of the exam, and the least of one’s worries inside the room. The examination also tested Apparition, adaptability to a changing and dangerous environment, stealth, technical aspects of wandwork such as speed and marksmanship, as well as one’s ability to think in dangerous situations. Harry was only slightly apprehensive as he waited his turn. He knew that the realistic experience was part of the challenge, and as long as he stayed focused on his task, he wouldn’t let the room’s abilities distract him. When his name was finally called and he stepped inside the pitch black room for his first scenario, he felt his determination to get his life back and prove himself overpower his nerves. He could do this. Nothing was going to stop him from doing well in this examination. He went through three scenarios before he found one that was stressful. The room was making him hear the screams of his loved ones in the dark as he had to navigate through what resembled an old Egyptian tomb. Curses and evil wizards lurked around every corner, which were complicated by his instinct to rescue his family. His son’s scream was the worst. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest, he had to work hard to remember to breathe to get his pulse down. Harry also forgot how exhausting the Apparation test could be. He was forced to Apparate twelve times in a row and to fit himself into narrow places or onto thin sections of rock over lava. It took a lot of quick thinking and focus, but he completed this scenario with only one banged-up knee and a couple burnt toes. The pain was easier to forget knowing it would cease as soon as the next scenario began. He finished his whole exam in fifty-two minutes and walked out, tired, but happy with his results. He only had to wait a few minutes before he was called into another room to meet the examiner and find out if he passed or failed. The examiner was a short man with very little hair on his head. He was dressed in green robes with the official Auror insignia on a patch on his arm. He was waiting at his desk, looking only mildly interested. He waved Harry forward without looking at him. “Hello, hello, Mr Harry Potter. Back again to the Aurors, are we?” He glanced up now and offered a small, friendly smile. “Yes, sir,” Harry replied politely. “Excellent, excellent. Yes, a very good job, Mr Potter. A 90% is your final score. You may take this letter indicating you have successfully completed your examination. Please submit this to our receptionist before you leave. She will see that your results are passed on and that your eligibility for field work has been reinstated.” Harry smiled at those words, glad to have passed with a good grade. “Thank you, sir.” The examiner handed over an official looking letter with his swirly signature at the bottom. Harry’s name was scrawled at the top with the time and date of his examination. Harry took it proudly. 92% was six percent better than the first time he’d taken the exam! Harry took the letter directly to the receptionist, who thanked him and told him he would receive an owl by this evening with his work schedule. Glad to have this task off his to-do list, he turned almost reluctantly to leave. His next task was far more nerve-wracking to him than having to take an exam. *~* Harry hated waiting. He hated the anxious feeling eating at the pit of his stomach as he and Ron walked up the street toward his flat–or rather, Sam’s flat. Ron was in a good mood, which at least helped to calm him a little. He kept up an interested chatter, commenting on the nice neighbourhood and how exciting New York seemed. He seemed glad that Harry had lived in such a nice place when he was sent here. When they stood outside the building, Ron’s chatter ceased. Harry could feel Ron’s eyes on him as he hesitated outside. “Let’s just get it over with, mate,” Ron said with a sigh. “She might not even be here, right?” Harry turned his keys over in his hand and nodded. “Right.” He led the way to the front door and let them in. “This is kind of cool,” Ron said, back to being chatty. “Seeing where you’ve been all these years.” “Out of curiosity, where did you think I was?” “Not in the Muggle world,” Ron mused. “And definitely still in the UK. I dunno... I guess we just expected you’d gone off the grid. Owls never reached you… and then we got a note.” Harry gaped. “A note? You got a note from me? I never wrote a note.” “Well, obviously,” Ron said with a roll of his eyes. “But we didn’t know that at the time.” Harry was fuming. So he’d been forced to write a note to his friends, probably telling them to leave him alone and adding in some colourful insults to ensure that they did. “What did the note say?” “Stop writing to me, I need some space, I’ll come home when I’m ready, I’m alright, I won’t be writing anymore,” Ron replied distractedly, watching the numbers tick by above the lift doors. Harry sighed at this piece of news. Whoever had sent him away had done a very thorough job. This person had made sure that no one would look for him or find him. This person had made sure that he was integrated into a Muggle world, so as to help hide him even further. As if having all of his memories wiped was not enough of a punishment. The sheer amount of detail in this person’s plot bordered on psychotic. Who was capable of pulling something like this off? For once, this didn’t seem like a ploy by a Voldemort supporter, which made the mystery all the more infuriating. Who else wanted to hurt him? Who wanted him hurt, but not dead? “We should have brought boxes!” Ron suddenly exclaimed, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Muggles would need boxes to move.” Ron pulled out his wand and conjured several flat cardboard boxes. “Right,” he mumbled, copying Ron. “I’ve been meaning to ask since agreeing to ditch work and accompany you on this mission. Your ex... she knows we’re coming, right? Is she alright with this?” “She knows I’m coming,” he confirmed lightly as the doors opened up to the 12th floor. “I called and left a message for her, but she never got back to me.” “Great,” Ron said dully. The walk from the lift to his old flat was mercifully short. Harry didn’t hesitate when unlocking the door and then opening it. He realized afterward that knocking was probably the polite thing to do, but he did technically live here. He peered inside before letting himself and Ron inside. “Sam?” No answer. The flat was quiet and surprisingly tidy. Harry recognized the obsessive tidiness for what it was–Sam’s way of dealing with stress. She was a compulsive cleaner when she was anxious or angry. Harry let out a sigh of relief. “She’s not home. We can use magic.” Ron cheered up some at this news. He had reluctantly agreed to help him move, though Harry suspected he had wanted a day off work more than he had wanted to spend the afternoon doing manual labour in Harry’s ex’s house. Of course, asking Ron in front of Hermione was also likely a factor in the decision. Harry knew that Hermione would help if she didn’t have to be at Hogwarts for classes and that she would force Ron to go, even if he didn’t want to. Harry knew it was an inconvenience and that he was more than capable of moving by himself, but he was also embarrassed to admit he didn’t want to be here by himself. They started in the bedroom, magically packing up all his belongings. Ron laughed at all the suits that Harry owned and wondered what he would do with them now, since he would never have a use for so many. The ties shot out from the closet and began neatly folding themselves into a box and rolls of socks were flying out of one of the drawers when the front door. Harry and Ron looked up at each other and immediately ended the charms. Socks and ties dropped messily all over the floor. “Harry?” Sam called in an uncertain voice. Ron began to pick up the ties as Sam appeared in the doorway, dressed casually in a pair of tight jeans and a green shirt. She wore sunglasses on her head and had a Starbucks cup in her hand. She looked…calm. Harry couldn’t tell what she really thought of his being here to move out, but her expression was free of anger or bitterness. Noticing Ron, she smiled politely and raised her free hand to wave. “Oh, hello.” Feeling stupid, he stepped aside and gestured to Ron. “Sam, this is Ron. Ron, this is Sam. Ron is my best mate from school.” “Hey,” Ron greeted Sam politely, grabbing the last tie off the ground. Harry could tell Ron was embarrassed to be present for this awkward encounter by the colour of his ears. “Nice to meet you.” She turned her eyes back to Harry. “I’ll get out of your way,” she told him in the same cool voice. With that, she walked away. Harry watched her take her coffee and sit on the couch. She pulled a magazine toward her and curled up with it. He moved back inside the bedroom, wondering if he should make small talk or if he should just keep working. Fortunately, Ron solved this problem for him. “Shut the door, will you?” Ron asked meaningfully, raising his wand to indicate that this would go a lot faster if they could use magic. Translation: shut the damn door so we can get the hell out of here. Half of him silently agreed. Harry closed the door, trying to ignore the feeling that closing the door to block Sam out probably made his presence here more uncomfortable. He watched as Ron repacked the ties neatly with a wave of his wand and then turned away to finish with the last of the clothes in the wardrobe. “She seemed nice,” he offered to Harry in the awkward silence that followed. “Yeah, she is nice,” Harry agreed, his thoughts in the living room with Sam. “Totally your type in the Muggle world,” Ron added under his breath. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Ron gave him an innocent look, but Harry could see that he was a little amused. “She’s pretty. And she seems like Ginny in the way that she wouldn’t be afraid to kick your ass. She has the same confidence.” Harry chuckled in surprise. “I’m not sure what you’re implying about my taste in women, but okay. Thank you?” “It’s okay, you know.” Ron said, his ears turning a bright red again. “I know Ginny is my sister and everything, but I’m also your best friend. I am glad that while you were cursed and living away from everyone, you found happiness.” Ron was a good friend. Harry paused in closing up a full box and smiled. “Thanks, Ron.” Ron smiled back and kept working. “My sister is prettier, though. Don’t get me wrong,” he continued matter-of-factly, making him chuckle. Had he just been thinking about how much Ron had matured since they’d met? That last comment had been typical Ron–bluntly say something that is mildly inappropriate. “Just shut up and pack,” Harry told him. He agreed, of course. Sam was beautiful, but she wasn’t Ginny. When they moved onto the living room to take down the television and box up the DVDs, things became a little more awkward. Sam continued to read and drink her coffee, not once looking up at them. She seemed determined to sit there and make things uncomfortable, which was not a successful pathetic ploy, but it also slowed them down as they worked without their wands. Ron appeared oblivious to anything awkward as he worked with Harry to get the television off the wall mount, swearing under his breath as he fumbled with the drill. The air was thick with tension and although Sam seemed like she was reading, Harry could feel her intense gaze on him. The only time he actually saw her look up was when Ron accidentally fumbled with the drill and made a small hole in the wall. They managed to get the television down and boxed up without further damage to the flat. “I’ll go get more boxes,” Ron announced, dumping the cords into a box. Harry could see that he found it inconvenient to have to walk back to the bedroom to get more boxes. Alone with Sam, he nervously sorted through the DVDs to find which were his. He glanced up at her as she sipped her coffee, still staring at her magazine. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. “Good articles this month?” Sam peered up at him and set her coffee down. Her gaze was piercing, but her expression was just as cool as ever. “Not bad.” “Good,” Harry replied, feeling stupid. Why did she have to make him feel like an idiot? Did she not understand this was just as awkward for him as it was for her? “How have you been?” Sam sat back on the sofa and shrugged nonchalantly. “Busy with work, but good.” She paused, her gaze still hard. “I’ve been seeing someone.” The words hit him like a smart slap in the face, which he supposed was the point. Harry nodded, knowing that Sam was trying to get a reaction out of him. He had expected her to want to push his buttons, and it might have worked if Harry didn’t know without a doubt in his mind what was right and where he belonged. For all he knew, the man she was seeing was what Ginny was to him. “That’s good! I’m glad for you.” He saw that his sincerity only made her cold gaze grow colder. That was not the reaction she wanted. Ron chose that moment to return and Sam immediately went back to reading. Ron looked between Sam and Harry, his eyebrows raised as he sensed the change in the room. Harry took an empty box from him and silently went back to work, avoiding Ron’s questioning gaze. He could feel the bitterness radiating off Sam from across the room. He wished that she would go somewhere else to make this easier. Did she seriously enjoy this awful tension? Although he was mildly curious as to who had replaced him so quickly, he was glad that she had someone. He knew she expected him to be jealous and to get a reaction from him, but he just felt sad that she needed a reaction at all. Sam had always been dramatic when she was upset, but this was just immature. He would prefer her being mean than childish. It made the whole situation much sadder. Without magic, it took them two hours to get all of Harry’s stuff packed up into boxes. They moved all the boxes into the hall and by the time they’d finished, even Ron was looking irritated with the silence that had passed the time as they worked. Harry expected he owed Ron several drinks and probably dinner when they got back home. The plan was to magically transport everything using a special type of Portkey for objects. When the last box was carried out into the hall, Harry peered around his home for the last four years with a pang of regret. As much as he knew he wanted to be in London, with his family, he did feel a bit sad to be leaving. This was the place he’d lived for the majority of the last four years. He had made a lot of memories here when he had no other memories at all. Sam had made these four years bearable and he felt like he owed her some sort of ‘thank you.’ Instead, he was worried about her counting down the minutes until she could slam the door behind him. “Ready?” Ron asked, standing in the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Sam moved into the kitchen and out of sight. He only considered it for a few seconds, but he knew that he couldn’t just leave without saying a word. It didn’t matter if she hated him now–he owed her more than that. “Give me a second,” he told him, following after Sam. Sam was in the kitchen, pulling the fixings to make herself a salad from the refrigerator. She looked up at him when he entered the kitchen with the same piercing look. “So, I’m all done.” He set his house keys on the counter. She nodded and looked at the keys. Her expression softened slightly as she glanced back at him. Harry hesitated, unsure of what to say next. He wanted to make sure that she was okay, but knew he didn’t have much of a right to ask that. “Your friend seems nice,” Sam said, interrupting his train of thought and surprising him with her awkward attempt at conversation. “He is,” Harry agreed quickly, glad at the civility in her tone. “I wish you could have met Hermione, too. They’re the best mates I could ask for.” Sam smiled slightly and leaned back against the counter. “You’ve gotten British again. You must have a few American habits to lose now that you’ve reverted.” “It makes me more interesting,” Harry countered with a smile. “I like having both versions of myself–the British bloke and the American dude.” Sam laughed–a real, loud burst of laughter. The sound of it surprised her and her face flushed with colour. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you use the word ‘dude.’” Harry grinned and shrugged, pleased that they could at least still be civil. It meant that there was hope. “Things change.” Her smile faltered. “Yes, I guess they do. For the better, I hope?” He nodded. He hoped she wanted him to be happy, because that’s what he wanted for her. Living in Britain, with his family was definitely what would make him happy. “Yeah, for the better.” “Well… your friends and family are lucky to have a British dude like you back again,” Sam suggested lightly, easing them back out of awkward tension again. They looked at each other for a long moment before Harry decided that he ought to go. Ron was waiting for him and there was no right way to do this and really, what he owed her was closure. As much as he wanted to make sure she was okay, Sam couldn’t be okay until he gave her the time and space to move on. He knew Sam well enough to know that she’d be more upset if he stayed and tried to play nice. She loved him–the longer he stayed, the more he felt like he was flaunting what she would never have. “Alright. Well… I should go.” He couldn’t be sure, but he thought she looked startled by his sudden decision to say. Why? Did she expect him to stay longer? “Okay. Goodbye.” Just leave. Let her have her space. You are in her house. “Bye.” Harry had reached the sofa when she called his name softly. He turned to see Sam following him, her mask broken. There was no hiding the pain of this moment now. She wasn’t crying, thank goodness, but he sensed that tears were not far off. When she didn’t speak right away, he began to feel nervous., “I will miss you. And as much as this sucks and as much as I wish it didn’t hurt… I do want you to be happy,” she finally blurted, speaking in a hurried, but soft tone. She paused and then smiled another painful smile. “I am happy that you finally realized who you are. I wanted that for you.” He had not expected that. He didn’t deserve her kindness after what he had done to her life. The fact that despite how much this was killing her, that she could still wish him well, was proof that he’d made a good decision in being with Sam. It reminded him of the girl he had fallen in love with. The one with the pretty smile who was optimistic and loyal, no matter how frustrated he was with himself over the last four years. “Thank you.” He couldn’t help the tone of surprise in his voice. He was surprised. Harry expected to get blasted by Sam, not wished well. “And… I do want to ask…” Of course it could never be this simple, he thought wearily. Of course there was more. “What?” Watching her hesitate, Harry felt more uneasy about what she wanted to ask him. She brought her gaze up to meet his, looking up at him with her beautiful, sad blue eyes. “Do you think that maybe… if you hadn’t remembered…if you were still here…” her eyes filled with tears as she broke off. Why in the hell would she ask that? His answer was going to hurt her. Didn’t she expect what his answer would be? Wouldn’t either answer hurt her? Was it really better to want what you could never have, rather than to want what could have been? His silence seemed to answer her question because she nodded and lowered her gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. Sam smiled bravely and met his gaze again. Her voice wavered with choked back emotion when she spoke. “Don’t be. I don’t regret loving you. I just wish I could be enough.” He had no reply to this wistful statement. She was looking up at him with wide, sad eyes, perhaps still hoping he would give her some sign that there was still a chance for them. The expression made his heart ache to see the pain there. It was time to go. It was time to let her go. “Goodbye, Sam.” Tears dripped onto her cheeks silently. She raised her chin bravely and managed to keep her voice level when she spoke. “Bye, Harry.” They walked to the door together and when Harry stepped into the hall, she closed the door behind him without looking at him. Harry stared at the closed door for a moment before walking toward Ron and his many boxes. Ron was leaning against the wall, his expression blank, though Harry was sure he’d heard everything. He wondered what Ron had made of all of this. Ron had always been a protective and sometimes overbearing brother. Harry hoped that Ron’s maturity over the years and his understanding would extend to his being calm about his goodbye with Sam. He just didn’t want Ron to mistinterpret his sadness or difficulty in saying goodbye sooner as lingering feelings of love. Sure, he loved Sam, but it wasn’t the same kind of love he felt for Ginny. When Ron looked at him and spoke in a voice that was unmistakably sympathetic, Harry was sure Ron understood. For this, Harry was grateful. “All set?” Harry nodded and pulled out his wand to transport his belongings. Home. He was definitely ready to go home. “Yes. Let’s go.” *~* Harry spent his afternoon moving all his stuff in. Fortunately, unpacking was much easier without having to do everything by hand. Setting up his electronics was a different matter, entirely. Once he had the television mounted on the wall, he set up a magical perimeter around the television and DVD player. He’d learned this enchantment from an Auror at work who married a Muggle. The spell acted like a shield against magical interference. The only catch was that he could never use his wand, should he ever lose his remote. Ginny sent him an owl at four, asking if he would like to come over for dinner. He immediately replied with a yes and had that to look forward to. He was glad that dinner with James and Ginny seemed to be becoming a routine thing now. With work about to fill his days, he was finally feeling as if this was the life he’d been waiting to lead. Ginny brought fish and chips from a local restaurant that she and James frequented. The food was delicious and Harry found he was hungrier than he expected. An exam and moving continents had made him exhausted. James was very curious about the exam to be an Auror and asked lots of questions about the possibilities of the room, including whether or not it could make three dragons appear. “Does this mean that you want to be an Auror like your Dad?” Ginny asked hopefully, clearing the dishes. “One dangerous career for another,” Harry muttered to her as she took his plate. “I don’t know! I’m only four!” James exclaimed with a little laugh. “Daddy, if there was a dragon, could he blast you with fire? Would it hurt?” “It would most definitely hurt,” Harry replied, throwing Ginny a look. What was with his son’s fascination with the brutality of dragons? Then again, hadn’t he been the same as a child? Explosions, destruction, and all things that went BANG were all very cool to little boys. His experience with the Horntail made all these normal little boy fantasies of the powers of dragons all too real for him. “Cool,” James said, unphased by how traumatic that might actually be to experience. Ginny put James to bed shortly before nine, after he fell asleep curled up against Harry’s side. Harry reluctantly let Ginny scoop him up and carry him to bed. It had felt good to have James feel so comfortable that he fell asleep on him. Not to mention the fact that James had been calling him “Daddy” now. He knew he smiled like an idiot every time James said it. “He’s really getting used to having me around,” Harry said happily when Ginny returned. She smiled and sat next to him. “The other day when I picked him up from nursery school, he was bragging to his friend that his dad was the best Auror ever.” “Really?” Ginny nudged him, her eyes shining with pride and affection. “Are you really so surprised to think about how much he likes having you around? He loves you!” Sadly, it was a little surprising to him. Having a son was all so new to him still. Every time James smiled at him or hugged him, Harry felt a surge of warm, wonderful feelings. It was the most wonderful thing to love a child and have that child love you back. “I love him,” he murmured, unable to help the smile spreading across his face. “I’m really lucky he has such a great mum. You’ve done a great job raising him.” He could tell his words meant a lot to her by the way her smile faltered for a moment and her eyes watered a little. He truly meant it. She was an amazing mother and she had done it all despite being a single parent due to rather unfortunate circumstances. “Thank you.” “Thank you for making sure I get to spend so much time with him.” He paused before asking his question. He knew it was stupid to feel nervous, but he still did. He had been gone for four years and he felt that gave Ginny veto power. “I’m hoping we can work out a schedule for James.” “What sort of schedule?” She asked curiously, folding her legs up under her on the sofa. “For sharing James,” he explained. “Consistency is important for children. If he knew that he saw me every Wednesday, for example, it might make things a little easier.” For both of us, he added silently. Every morning that he woke up, unsure if he was going to get to see James made his heart hurt a little. He wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. Ginny looked thoughtful and then nodded, smiling again. “That’s a good idea. We should have a schedule.” Harry smiled, pleased that she was so agreeable about this. The next part was little more tricky, since Ginny’s assent would depend heavily on whether or not she completely trusted him. “And maybe…if it’s okay with you…if I could get him for a whole weekend sometimes?” Ginny’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t look upset or concerned about his ability to take care of their son for a whole weekend. Suddenly she smiled and shrugged and Harry felt the relief wash over him. “Sure. We could alternate weekends, if you’d like. Or just pick two weekends that he stays with you. He’d like that. Plus, it means I don’t have to keep regulating the number of toys he brings over here. He can keep of it over here.” Harry resisted the urge to hug her. “Really? You don’t mind?” To his surprise, she laughed at him, her eyes sparkling. “Harry, of course I don’t mind. He’s your son! I’m happy that you want to spend so much time with him.” He smiled back, feeling elated and relieved at the same time. “There’s not enough time. I’ve got to catch up on four years. I’m glad you trust me… thank you.” “You’re a wonderful father. Of course I trust you. You used to take care of him when he was just a baby, remember?” “That’s true,” he realized, thinking back to all the times he took care of James by himself. It seemed so long ago now that James was so big. How could it have been only four years ago that he fit into the crook of his arm and waved little fists to try and grab his glasses? “Actually, the only thing that makes me hesitate just a little bit is the idea of not having him with me all the time. It’ll be odd getting used to not having him here at night. I’ve always had to be so protective…” “You have me now,” he said, relieved that she wasn’t implying anything about his parenting skills. “I’m here to help out and to be just as protective of our son.” “Yes,” Ginny agreed, squeezing his hand and meeting his gaze with her warm brown eyes. “You are here…and I’m very glad about that.” Harry glanced down at their hands and steeled himself for his most intimidating request. He hoped that he hadn’t pushed his luck too far asking for time with James. More than that, he hoped he hadn’t overestimated how much progress they had made as friends. His heart rate began to quicken as he considered asking her, but he knew he ought to ask sooner rather than later. “I was also wondering...” he broke off, suddenly feeling very aware of himself. Was his face red? Did asking Ginny out count as moving things too quickly, or was that the way you got the ball rolling? “What is it?” “If you would have dinner with me? You know… without James. Although I will never say no to having dinner with you and James.” A few seconds passed, but it felt like a lifetime. He realized he’d blurted out his request and now looked rather pathetic. Suddenly, Ginny giggled and Harry felt his face heat up even more. Great, he thought miserably. Before he could lose his dignity, she stifled her laughter and placed both hands on his arm when he subconsciously tried to shift away from her. “Oh, Harry, I’m sorry… it’s just that you look so nervous!” He chuckled once, the sound a little embarrassed and a little miffed. “I am nervous!” “You look almost as nervous as the time you proposed, though,” she explained gently, fighting to contain herself. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed. Yes, I would like that.” His spirits lifted and he managed to smile, more relieved than anything. “Really?” “Yes!” She laughed again, rolling her eyes. “Did you already forget I sort of fancy you, Harry Potter?” “The laughing threw me off a bit.” That, and the fact that you wanted to take things slowly… “If you could have seen how nervous you just looked, you might have laughed, too.” Ginny slid her hand back into his and laced her fingers through his. Harry smiled again, glancing down at their intertwined hands, daring to believe he could be so lucky. When he looked up, he found Ginny’s beautiful brown eyes looking up at him under long lashes. He closed his eyes as her lips pressed gently against his, tenderly, as if testing his reaction. She pulled back slightly to look at him with a burning intensity, searching his eyes for a sign that he wanted this like she wanted it. He decided not to wait and instead show her by leaning in and capturing her lips with his with the certainty and happiness that he felt in his chest. Kissing Ginny was definitely one of the best feelings in his world. He leaned in, gently wrapping his arms around her waist and urging her closer. She moved into his embrace willingly and slid her hands up his chest and around his neck. He loved that she fit into his arms perfectly, as if she were meant to be there. He loved she responded to him and the sparks of electricity that were caused by her warm touch or the feel of her lips against his. He loved everything about this woman–from her passion to her laughter, even if it was at his expense. A soft moan slipped from her lips and the sound drove him a little wild. Her fingers clutched at his shirt collar, holding him to her and he tightened his grip on her waist. She shifted so she was on his lap and pressing herself closer. His fingers gently urged the fabric of her shirt upwards slightly to expose a sliver of skin to his touch. His hands rested on her lower back, holding her firmly before they slid to her hips, his thumbs brushing against the soft skin of her abdomen. He inched the shirt a little higher with his fingers, wanted to feel a little more. Merlin, she was so incredibly sexy. “Harry,” she murmured between kisses, trailing her lips across his cheek to his neck. Harry leaned his head on the back of the couch as her lips found the sensitive spot of skin behind his ear. He clutched at her waist as a shiver of pleasure ran down his spine. “Yes?” he breathed, his fingers sliding higher up her back and brushing against the soft fabric of her bra. He didn’t dare move his hands from her back. He had no intention of letting it go any farther than this. “James is upstairs,” she reminded him reluctantly. After a long moment, her kisses slowing as she moved her lips back up to his. She kissed him once more, long and languid before pulling away and sitting just inside arm’s reach. “Yeah,” he agreed, clearing his throat and sitting up a little straighter. He knew they shouldn’t risk getting caught on the sofa by their four-year-old, but there was another part of him–the part that wanted his lips to kiss the soft skin he’d touched–that wanted to suggest they relocate to somewhere with a lock on the door. Fortunately, that part of him was repressible by logic and common sense. Harry wasn’t stupid–the moment he gave into his desire, she would pull away. As much as he wanted to throw her down on her bed and make love to her, he knew that that was definitely not in the realm of taking things slowly. “Guess at least we won’t have to worry about there being a spark when we’re on our date,” she said playfully. “I would hope not,” he replied dryly. “You did agree to marry me once upon a time, you know.” “I did,” she murmured, averting her eyes. Harry regretted bringing up their marriage just as soon as the words left his mouth. Ginny had agreed to go on a date with him–why the bloody hell did he need to bring up marriage? The problem was Harry found it hard not to act normally around Ginny. Being with her was as easy as breathing, but he knew that that easiness could come and go, if he wasn’t careful. Being away for four years took away the safety of their relationship that he once enjoyed. It was best to stay clear of all serious subjects and stick to living in the present. “How about a cup of tea?” Ginny suggested with a shy smile as she got to her feet. She offered him her hand and he took it, smiling back. Tea was good–tea meant that their evening was not over yet. “I would love some,” he replied happily. “Good.” She held his hand as they walked to the kitchen. “So how was your Auror’s exam? Without censoring the terrifying, crazy Auror scenarios for our son.” Harry reluctantly released her hand as she set about making the tea. “Honestly, it wasn’t bad. I hit my knee pretty hard in a cave, but there was only minimal bleeding and I could still walk on it. I Apparated into a narrow space and forgot to keep my backside tight to the surface behind me.” Her eyes filled with concern as she paused in getting the sugar out of the cupboard. “So it went better than last time?” Harry chuckled. “You’re referring to the time that the room made me feel like I’d broken my foot?” “I might be referring to that time, yes. Guess you’re still better than Ron, who thought the spider did actually bite off his hand when he got too close,” Ginny reminded him darkly, though she was smiling slightly at the memory. Harry smiled, too. Poor Ron. The room had targeted his greatest fear and had sent him into a scenario that involved rescuing small children from an Acromantula. Ron’s panic had overwhelmed his training and the spider had taken a snap at his hand. He’d barely passed the scenario, but he did get bonus points for saving all the children single-handedly–literally. “I’m proud of you, Harry,” she told him, handing him a steaming cup of tea. “For scoring so high. That’s amazing for being out of practice for four years.” She leaned up to kiss him, lingering long enough that he forgot he was holding a cup of tea. He sloshed some of the liquid on the ground when she deepened the kiss, causing them both to break apart. “Sorry!” He exclaimed, setting the cup down and examining her to ensure he didn’t spill hot tea on her. “I blame you. You distracted me.” “I’m very distracting,” she agreed amusedly, snatching tea towel and cleaning up the mess with her foot. “I should keep that in mind next time I kiss you.” Harry set his tea down and pulled her against him again with a smile. He wrapped his arms around her waist again, determined to keep her there. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind where she belonged. “New rule: no snogging near any liquids?” He suggested, leaning down to kiss her again. He might not be able to say how he felt or try to make her see just how right they were together, but he could certainly show her. Oblivious to his master plan, Ginny smiled and leaned into him. The delicious smell of her perfume surrounded him as her lips found his. Harry’s thoughts became a little fuzzy as her fingers slid up his chest and her arms wrapped around his neck, pressing herself a little harder against his chest. "Agreed,” she whispered between kisses. |
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