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Covert Love | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, Humor, Romance Warnings: Extreme Language, Intimate Sexual Situations, Mental Abuse, Spouse/Adult/Child Abuse, Violence, Violence/Physical Abuse Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 103 Summary: To serve and protect. That’s what Harry was there for. He had been sent undercover to protect Ginny Weasley from a mad man. Not to fall in love with her. But how couldn’t he? She was everything anyone could want, and clearly her stalker agreed. Hitcount: Story Total: 73650; Chapter Total: 3758 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: Just a quick warning. This chapter does delve into the mind of a twisted individual so there may be sensitive topics/implications that may offend. Past that, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter, and a huge thank you goes to TheDistantDusk, she is literally the BEST! This chapter title is based on the song Hangin' by Bastille. |
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Prue sat on the sofa, absentmindedly swirling the amber liquid she’d poured moments ago. She should be worried. Really, she should be terrified. There was no way the Irish Aurors didn’t know that she’d kidnapped one of them. They were more than likely storming her house at that moment, trying to find her Of course, they wouldn’t find anything that would lead them here. She’d bought this place under a different name with an offshore account, just a little something dear old Dad taught her. Prue rolled her eyes at her own choice of words. There had been nothing dear about her father. He’d been a cruel bastard from the moment she was born until the day the dementors sucked out his soul… Well, what they told her was his soul. Prue wasn’t sure what the dementors had taken, but Tom Riddle never had a soul for the creatures to steal. Just thinking of her father made shivers run down Prue’s spine. It was a subject she purposely avoided, yet here she was again thinking about him. Though there were no marks reminding her of the abuse she’d suffered from her father’s wand, the mental images never were far from mind. Laying on a dirty floor as he cursed her again and again. The ways he had hurt her that are still unfathomable to society… Unfathomable was the perfect word for her father. No one could fully understand what he was thinking. Prue’s mother surely didn’t understand why he handed her over to the Malin cartel… Handed her over like she was a biscuit at tea. That had been the last time Prue had seen her mother. She could still hear her mother’s cries as she was dragged away. Which had left Prue alone with her father. Even at the young age of seven, Prue’s instincts had told her she was in trouble. And she had been right. The torment had lasted for ten years. Ten long years, and probably would still be happening today if her father hadn’t been caught red-handed with the blood of a high powered council member on his hands. Well, not literally red-handed, Prue laughed cynically; Tom Riddle would never lower himself to the barbaric ways of muggle fighting. Maybe that’s why Prue appreciated muggle ways so much. She enjoyed the elbow grease she had to put into cleaning, driving with the window down in her car, and there was always the feeling of pride that came with completing a task using only her hands and a set of tools. Sure this last task had been more -- grim -- than fixing the squeaking door that led to the loo, and yet… it was that much more satisfying. The way it had felt to bring the medal head of a hammer down onto Harry’s elbow. The scream he’d held back… it had aroused her more than she’d thought possible. Prue couldn’t help but smile as she remembered the way her body hummed as she brought her fist to his cheek. It was vibrating now with just a mental image. If she’d been able to keep playing with him... But she couldn’t lose herself now, Prue scolded herself. She needed to focus on devising a plan. The aurors would know about her, but her mission wasn’t done. Ginny Weasley was still trapped in her mortal form. Trapped with peasants who don’t deserve her glory. Fucking aurors for thinking they can control such a goddess! Fuck Potter for going anywhere near her magnificent form… Potter…. He had no right talking to her, let alone touching her. Soiling her. Rage was instantly bubbling in Prue’s gut at just the thought of Potter’s hands until it boiled over and she couldn’t stop herself from throwing the glass she’d been drinking. The shattering glass echoed in the silent room, but Prue didn’t care about the amber liquid sliding down the wall onto the carpet. Her thoughts were solely focused on him. Potter needed to be taught a lesson about his place in this universe. He was a pathetic bug that should be squashed. That she would squash because he didn’t deserve to live -- to remember -- the honor of touching the goddess. Prue could remember the first time she’d met Ginny. The way her red hair had cascaded behind her as she flew towards the goalpost. The setting sun glowing behind her. It had created a halo effect that had stunned Prue speechless. Nothing had ever staggered her like Ginny Weasley, and time had only helped to fortify Prue’s feelings. Ginny Weasley had always been too good for everyone around her, and it reminded Prue of one of the stories her mother used to read to her. There had been a woman who was pleasant to everyone she dealt with. She helped everyone and treated everyone fairly. And yet, the woman was looked upon as if she were pond scum. Then, in the end, the woman turned out to be Ronia the goddess of honesty. Ronia had before forced down to Earth to reveal the true nature of humans, their honest appearance. She wasn’t allowed back to her home -- her family -- until she found some decency among people. Prue never got to hear how the writer intended to end the story to end because the beat-up old book had been missing the final pages, but Prue knew there was no way Ronia found any solidarity or decency. Prue had known that from even a young age. Humanity was cruel and didn’t deserve kindness and prosperity. Which was why Ginny Weasley needed to be released back to where she truly belonged. She must be like Ronia, stuck in a mortal form, and unable to achieve true greatness because of her limitation. But how? Prue’s fingers started tapping against the smooth leather of the sofa. She was the only one who seemed to understand what Ginny was. Prue was the only one who understood what needed to be done. Instead of fulfilling their duty to Ginny, the fucking aurors were focused on hunting Prue. Truly proving their incompetence. Prue knew it was all up to her. All she needed was a few minutes alone with Ginny. Make her understand that she knew how Ginny was suffering and how Prue would be the one to release her from the torment. Rolling her neck back, Prue closed her eyes as a small cracking noise creaked from her weary bones. She would have to convince Ginny to go somewhere alone and then… from there it was easy. But how to get her alone? Her lapdog was never far from her. Prue’s mind raced round and round, but she was too tired to keep a thought, let alone devise a clever plan. She needed sleep. Sighing, Prue opened her eyes and rose from the cushions. She would go to sleep for a while and figure out how to help Ginny in the morning. With a quick pull to a chain, Prue shut off the only light in the room. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXX Harry woke slowly, his whole body warm and comfortable. He didn’t want to move. If he moved, everything would hurt. Though Harry had spent the last day in bed, his muscles still revolted against the idea of movement. It had taken a healer (and a hovering Molly Weasley) to fix him up. Even with magic, Harry had been warned about how extensive his injuries had been. Internal bleeding, fractured knee cap, broken elbow, and three fingers, and more that Harry couldn’t remember off the top of his head. Oh, his head! That was one too! He had fits of memory issues where he just couldn’t remember select things. The healer had prescribed to him numerous potions (all of which tasted like poorly disguised acid) which had seemed to help. Also, he’d been placed under an order to be watched for the first twenty-four hours after taking the potions. “How are you doing, love?” Ginny’s soft voice spoke softly in his ear. Harry opened his eyes to her glorious smile. She had gone to his flat (Bill in tow) to collect some things for Harry to be comfortable for the next few days. Molly had insisted that he stay at the Burrow where she could keep an eye on him. Harry hadn’t put up a fuss. Really he didn’t care where he was as long as it wasn’t St Mungo’s and Ginny was with him. “Did you have a good kip?” “Mhhhhmmm.” Harry arched his back, ignoring the twinge of pain that coursed down his spine at the movement. “But it would have been even better if you were with me.” Ginny’s low chuckle caused a different kind of shiver to run up his back. “Duly noted. But I thought you wouldn’t mind some clean clothes and maybe a toothbrush.” “If you had joined me, there wouldn’t be any need for clothing.” “Harry James!” Ginny leaned away from him, her expression that of utmost aghast, except for the twinkle in her eyes that ruined the image. She raised her voice, so it could easily carry out the open bedroom door. “Are you implying what I think you are? Because I’ll have you know I’m a good girl and would never give in to such indecent suggestions.” She paused lowering her voice so no one but Harry could hear her, lips curling in a provocative grin. “At least not in earshot of my mother.” “Duly noted.” Harry drawled, making Ginny’s character break. She laughed as she leaned down to kiss him lightly on the lips. “So,” Ginny broke the kiss and turned to grab the rucksack she’d placed beside the bed. “I grabbed your toiletries, fresh pants, sleep trousers, and –” she cut herself off as she pulled out his laptop-- “This!” Harry slowly lifted himself into a sitting position, using the headboard to keep him upright. Even such a small move left him breathing as if he’d run a marathon. “Good… idea.” Ginny put the computer down at the foot of the bed, her excited smile sliding off her lips. “Harry.” She gently cupped his jaw, examining his eyes. “Where does it hurt?” “Where doesn’t it?” He knew she wouldn’t fall for the levity in his voice, but he tried to smile nonetheless. “I’m fine, Gin.” “I hate that expression,” Ginny muttered darkly, “Because I know it’s never true.” Harry really did smile this time. “How about you pick a film for us to watch, all the while keeping an eye on me to make sure I actually am fine.” “You say that as if you ever had a choice as to if I would be staying with you or not.” “I’d have it no other way.” Harry reached out and took her hand, bringing it to his lips. “I’ll even make a deal with you.” Ginny quirked a brow at him. “A deal?” “Yeah, the moment I feel any pain I’ll tell you about it and let you kiss it better." He quirked a cocky brow at her. "How does that sound?” She snorted but kept her expression blank. "You'll let me, huh?" "That's the kind of man I am, Gin." "I thank you in advance for your cooperation." "My pleasure, darling." Ginny couldn't hold back her smile anymore. Her lips curled widely. "That's for sure." She pressed a kiss to his lips. "Just a bit of preemptive care." Harry took their still joined hands and used them to pull her onto the mattress. She fell with little grace, nearly knocking heads with him "Harry!" Her outrage made him laugh. “Yes, dear?” He placed a kiss to her cheek. "I could have hurt you." Ginny scrambled to sit up but Harry was pleased when she kept her body close to his. "Some things are worth the pain, and having you near me is worth any agony.” He could practically hear her eyes roll. “Not the point, Potter. Next time, just wait a minute.” “Patience has never been my strong suit.” Ginny’s hand came up to caress his cheek, turning his chin so he fully faced her. Though she had a smile on her lips, her expression was serious. She didn’t say anything, just stared at him with such a blazing look Harry thought he was going to burn from the inside out. How was it possible that just one look made him understand everything she was feeling for him? He could see fondness, desire, love, and fear. She had been afraid for him, Harry knew as much, but based on the look she was giving him at that moment… she was hurting just as much as him, if not more. “Love.” Harry couldn’t say anything else. Being a man of action, words had never been his strong suit. So instead of trying to waffle through all his feelings for her, he kissed her. In terms of their normal kisses, this one was tame, almost chaste. Yet it still sent shivers down his spine. When he pulled back, Harry rested his forehead against hers. As Harry took in her gorgeous face, trying to memorize every freckle, he saw her lips tremble before she pursed them. “Tell me,” Harry whispered. “Don’t hold it in.” Ginny breathed deeply before a small sob broke free from her defenses. Then she was pressing her face into his neck as her body shook. Harry twisted (ignoring the pain) so she could curl up completely against him. Harry just held her, not knowing what he could or should say. So he did the only thing he knew he could do right. He held her tight. “The idea of losing you.” Ginny’s voice was muffled. “I… I can’t lose you.” “Gin.” Harry rubbed slow circles on her back. “You didn’t lose me. You won’t lose me.” Ginny pulled away from him. Her eyes were bright, but her cheeks were dry. She shook her head. “She won’t let you go. I know Prue, and she is one of the most determined people I know.” Ginny pulled away from his neck. “When she wants something, she stops at nothing to get it.” Harry’s heart pounded against his chest like a drum. He knew Ginny was right. After playing alongside Prue for months, Harry knew Prue was driven, especially if she was passionate about something. He’d seen her dive ten meters to reach a rogue bludger that could help stop the other team from scoring. Prue had nearly fallen out of the sky trying to make that play. Her dedication bypassed all the danger. Harry was no profiler, but even he knew that all of that was a deadly combination. A profiler. That’s what they needed! Someone who could get into Prue’s head and help figure out what her plan was. Ginny was biting her lower lip as she looked at him. “Harry?” “Sorry, love.” Harry brought his hand up to cup her jaw. “I just had an idea on how we can get to Prue.” “What?” Ginny blinked rapidly. “How?” “I’ll explain as I write Jamieson.” Harry started to move slowly off the mattress. “Can you help me up? I don't want to spill ink on the covers XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXX "Thank you for coming." Harry shook the brown-haired woman's hand. "I know it's a little unorthodox " "No problem at all." Hermione Granger, England and Ireland's best profiler, smiled at the group sitting in Weasley's sitting room. "I must admit I am very intrigued about this individual based on Jamieson's letter." Ginny snorted but said nothing as she sat beside her father. After Harry had written to Jamieson the previous day, it hadn't taken long for people to gather in the Weasley family home. Bill, Molly, Arthur, Ginny, Harry, and Jamieson had all waited patiently for Granger to arrive. They'd agreed on meeting at one in the afternoon and that's exactly when Granger arrived. Not a minute early and not a minute late. Harry had never personally worked with Granger, but everything he'd heard about her matched what he could see. Straight-laced and organized. "Now." Granger took an empty armchair across from where Harry sat next to Jamieson. “I’ve been informed that we’ve actually been in contact with our individual.” “Yes.” Harry mimicked her no-nonsense tone. “We played quidditch with her.” “We?” “Me and Ginny.” Granger turned her focused stare onto Ginny. “Ah. Would you mind telling me about her, Ginny?” Ginny let out a deep breath. “I’ve known her for a while. We joined the team the same year and were friends instantly. We got along really well. Me, her, and Ariel have become the best of friends.” “Being friends, I’m sure you talked about things. Confided in each other?” Hermione had pulled out a notebook and quill. Her hand flew across the page, even though her eyes never strayed from Ginny. “I mean,” Ginny shrugged. “Sure. We talked about almost anything.” “Did Prue show a lot of interest in your past? Especially relationships?” Ginny’s brow furrowed as she paused to think. “Er, I guess so. She always did ask about my past boyfriends or if I had found someone new.” “How often did you, “find someone new”?” Granger asked, her expression completely neutral. Unlike Ginny’s, who flushed and shifted in her seat. “Um… not very often. Maybe once or twice since I’ve known her.” Harry tried to ignore the irrational anger that coursed through his chest. He knew Ginny had been with other men, but that didn’t mean he wanted to think or hear about them. Luckily for the monster growling in Harry’s chest, Hermione didn’t ask for details. “How did Prue act when talking about all this?” Ginny tapped her hand on the armrest of her chair, taking her time to remember. “She would always crack jokes at my exes.. Or make kinda snide remarks. Like one of my exes was pretty… nerdy and she would only call him nerdy Nick.” Hermione nodded encouragingly. “And what about when you were discussing their inadequacies?” “How did you –” Granger’s neutral expression broke for the first time as an amused smile curled her lips. “We all do it, especially when we’re alone with just a few girlfriends and a pitcher of sangria.” Ginny snorted. “She loved it.” “And how did she respond to you getting together with Mr. Potter?” “Well, I told her after Harry had gone missing, but I’m guessing she knew about us before then.” “I bet you’re right. How did she act when you told her?” “Nonchalant…” Ginny’s brow furrowed. “Well, actually I thought she looked mad for a second, but then I blinked and she looked cool as could be. I thought I’d imagined it. Now I think she just covered it well.” Granger nodded. She turned to look at Harry. “In your time with her, did she ever mention Ginny by name?” Harry took a deep breath. He didn’t want to think about anything that bitch had said to him while… while… A tender hand landed on his back. Harry looked up into Ginny’s warm eyes. She rubbed smooth circles across his back as he took another few deep breaths. Just having her there helped clear his mind. “I – No, she only asked me about what I’d told my boss.” “And during your time with the Bats, how did she treat you, Harry?” Harry shrugged. “Like anyone else. She didn’t seem to hate me. Actually, when Prue talked with me, she was pleasant.” “Psychopaths are known for their ability to compartmentalize.” Granger put her quill down. She brought her elbows up onto the table before resting her chin on bridged fingers. “If she hadn’t kidnapped you, would you have suspected her?” Harry wanted to say yes. He wanted to say he would have figured it out and cuffed her before Prue knew which way was up. But that was a lie. He shook his head. “Honestly she wasn’t high on my suspect list.” “And who was high on the list.” “Finn Hogan. He is one of Ginny’s exes and he arrived out of no –” Harry cut himself off as he looked into Hermione’s calculating gaze. “You think Prue somehow got Finn into the facility.” Granger pursed her lips. “I can’t say for certain, but it was rather convenient that Hogan arrived right before her large party where she did escalate the situation between herself and Ginny.” “Escalate?” Molly asked her face ashen as she stared at the profiler. “Is that what you would call kidnapping Harry?” “Technically, yes, that’s what we would call it.” Granger seemed unfazed by Molly’s intensity. “She went from merely stalking to kidnapping which is a much higher crime. Both are wrong, of course, but in our terms, kidnapping is an escalation.” “So what can we do?” Jamieson’s deep Irish voice rang out in the silent group. “We can’t find her anywhere.” Granger looked around at the anxious faces. “She will have gone into hiding. Prue is smart. She will have planned for a situation where something went wrong. There is no doubt Prue has a safe house of sorts and you won’t find her while she’s hidden.” “So we need to draw her out, make her leave her hiding spot.” Jamieson cracked his knuckles. “What do you suggest, Granger?” Hermione looked around the room again, for the first time showing some distress. She licked her lips nervously. “Based on what Jamieson said in his letter and your accounts… Prue won’t leave her safe zone for just anything. She will have already stocked herself in preparation for anything she will need.” “So that’s it.” Bill practically growled. “We won’t ever get her? She’ll just stay there indefinitely?” “I didn’t say that.” Granger’s fingers began to lightly tap on the table. “What I’m saying is she will need the right encouragement to abandon her safe spot. And there is only one thing in this world Prue is willing to risk everything for.” Every eye turned to look at a quickly paling Ginny. |
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