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Twelve Hours | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Action/Adventure, Comedy, Romance Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 21 Summary: Their first meeting literally knocked them off...and it took them twelve hours to finally kiss. **Harry never went to Hogwarts-AU** Hitcount: Story Total: 8251; Chapter Total: 1640 Awards: View Trophy Room |
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A persistent pounding in the rhythm of his pulse made Harry slowly drift back into consciousness. The throbbing ache was accompanied by the sound of footsteps pacing restlessly up and down somewhere nearby. He slightly shook his head to get rid of the annoying achiness when the sound of voice brought him back to life. Biting back a curse, he squinted his eyes in a void attempt to get rid of his headache. Slowly opening the eyes, he looked up at the redheaded woman who was leaning over him. "Don't even try," she growled. Giving him a cold stare, she folded her arms over her chest. "I called the Aurors." Trying to sit up, he noticed that his hands were bound behind his back, and he could barely move. His eyes flicked around the room to take in his surroundings. He lay on the sofa in what looked like to be the living room. A brief glance to the window confirmed that he had been lying here for a while. It was already dark outside. He turned his head and got a brief glimpse at the table on the other side of the room. The trunk and the pile of clothing scattered about it was a sure sign that the woman had already checked her trunk. But why was she so hostile? Suddenly, the word Aurors she'd mentioned rang in his ears. "Why?" he asked softly, in utter confusion. "What happened?" Still shocked that she'd stunned the man she'd met only a few hours ago, Ginny's hands trembled slightly as she levitated him into the living room. Somehow, she'd panicked when he'd suddenly shown up at the step of her door - though she should have expected him as soon as she'd found the tracking charm. She lowered the man on the sofa and checked that his hands were securely bound behind his back before she hid his wand in a drawer and hurried back out to fetch her trunk. Back in the living room, she placed the trunk on the table and opened it. Relieved that it opened with a simple tap of her wand, she briefly checked the contents and blushed when she found her notebook between her dirty unmentionables. The thought that…that...err, that bloke had been rummaged through her undergarments made her feel a bit - uncomfortable. Glancing over at the sofa, she bit her lower lip. Had she done the right thing? After all, he didn't look like a criminal. Frustrated, she paced the room, pondering her situation. Somehow the man had on the sofa - she gave him a brief glance to ensure he was still there - had managed to switch their trunks at the portkey station. Was it a sheer coincidence? It didn't matter at the moment. Ginny shook her head. It was the contents of the trunk that troubled her. The fake ID cards and the hair that most likely was needed to make Polyjuice potion, implied that the man was doing dirty business. Oh, she froze. Was that the reason he’d looked so nervous at customs control? While she was too busy trying not to sink into his green eyes, was he busy trying to smuggle these nefarious items into the country with her as an unknowing patsy? Could those eyes of his lie? Could the contents of his trunk lie? Ginny sighed. She better let the Aurors answer these questions. If the man was innocent, nothing would happen to him - and he would never want to look at her again. Damn it, she ought to have called Seamus earlier. Maybe things could have been sorted out before the man showed up at her doorstep. If everything was okay, they'd exchanged their trunks - and she would have invited him on a coffee - or a butterbeer. She snorted bitterly. Merlin, she should have listened to her brother Bill and had her house connected to the Floo network. A movement on the sofa caught her attention. The man stirred and opened his eyes. Worried that he might try to free himself, she took a cautious step towards him, her heart thudding away in her chest as she considers her options. When the man tried to sit up, she glared at him. "Don't even try." Crossing her arms over her chest, she lied, "I called the Aurors." The man looked at her bewildered. "Why?" What happened?" Ginny snorted, staring at the man in disbelief. "What happened? You put a trunk with fake ID cards and drugs on me and have the gall to ask me what happened?" she scolded. "No wonder you were looking so scared when we were called for our trunks to be checked. But luckily you had already switched our trunks. Let me guess, you deliberately stumbled over me to switch our trunks. Were you afraid to be discovered? Let the silly girl smuggle the trunk through the check-in area. It's much less dangerous. You faked interest in me just to make sure to find out who I am to get your bloody trunk back." "No. It's not like that." Shaking his head vehemently, the man gave her a desperate look. Ginny halted, studying her involuntary guest. The horrified expression on his face and his wide pleading eyes almost took her breath away. Had she wronged him? "I can explain everything," the man said with a raised voice, shifting around to find a better position on the sofa. Ginny closed her eyes, trying to stay calm. She'd felt so hurt when she thought his interest in her was feigned. She usually didn't like to be wrong, and as much as she'd love to be wrong about him, the stuff in his trunk still worried her. "It's all a big misunderstanding," her - guest, prisoner, or whatever — insisted. "A misunderstanding?" Ginny huffed. "I've seen what's in your trunk. There are no misunderstandings." "I can explain that," snapped the man, visibly annoyed. "As I said, I wanted to help a friend. Someone was playing a very bad game with one of my friends. I need my trunk back to prove it." Taken aback by the unexpected outburst, Ginny turned, her eyes sharp on the man. Resolved to give him a chance to explain himself, Ginny sat down in the armchair next to the sofa and eyed him from head to toe, her fingers absently tapping a restless rhythm on the arm of the chair. "Who is your friend?" Ginny asked reluctantly when a thought suddenly hit her. "And who are you?" The man turned his head slightly away from her. "My name is James Evans," he murmured, visibly annoyed. She didn't know why, but something was bothering Ginny about the answer. Something was wrong here. "You applied a tracking charm to your trunk so you could track me down to get your trunk back." Ginny pressed. "Why should I believe you?" "The trunk is important. It must not be lost. That's why I tracked it," the man replied, barely suppressing his irritation. "It has nothing to do with you." Ginny studied his face closely. She couldn't help it, but something felt wrong here. It almost looked as if a glamour charm was slowly fading. She reached for her wand and tried a few deactivation charms she knew. The man gave her a startled look. "Damn," he swore, hastily turning his head away. "What are you hiding?" Ginny inquired. Jumping to her feet, she turned the light on to get a better look at the man. Slowly, the man turned his head back to her. Jaws clenched; he gave her a grumpy stare. "Merlin," Ginny gasped, holding her breath. With wide eyes, she gawked at the stranger's forehead. This almost faded lightning-shaped scar could only mean one thing. Never in her life, she'd expected to meet Harry Potter in person. The whole wizarding world had been looking for Harry Potter for years, but he had disappeared - as if he'd never existed. For Ginny, her childhood hero had become just that - a childhood memory. The Harry Potter doll she'd played with had vanished in some closet a long time ago. But a children's story couldn't defeat a dark wizard, could it? And here he was in front of her. Harry Potter. And hidden in her storage room sat his trunk with many questionable items in it that clearly suggest a crime. Had Harry Potter become a criminal? Ginny shook her head. Something was wrong here. "Okay," Potter said, looking at her reproachfully. "I'm not James Evans. Are you happy now?" "Happy?" gasped Ginny. Folding her arms, she glared at him. "Why should I be happy?" Not expecting an answer, she let herself drop back in her armchair, never taking her eyes off Potter. "Don't you dare to think this will change your situation," Ginny fumed. "Okay," he said after a while. "What do you want to know?" "I ..." Ginny started - and took a deep breath. What did she need to know? She let her eyes wander over the man on her sofa - not just a man - Harry Potter. Damn, she had to get used to the thought. With the untamed mop of black heir und those incredible green eyes whose gaze was hard to escape, it was still this handsome man she'd met only a few hours ago. The jeans and the tight-fitting shirt he'd put on made him look even more dashing. If only there wasn't this damn trunk... Exhausted, she rubbed her eyes. Was it really just a misunderstanding that Potter ended up on her sofa, bound? As much as she hoped, she couldn't be sure. But that was the point. Deep down, she just wanted to know if this handsome man - Harry Potter, she had to remember - was as nice as she thought when they first met. Could those green eyes lie, eyes she couldn't look at without being sucked in? Meeting her gaze, as if reading her mind, he said in a calm voice, "It was really a misunderstanding. It was not my intention to switch our trunks. Why should I do that? I need my trunk to help a friend." "Then tell me, how can false ID cards and drug ingredients help your friend?" she raised one eyebrow and stared Potter into the eyes. "She was blackmailed, and the wrong ID cards and ingredients are evidence needed to bring the blackmailer to justice," Potter explained. "Actually, I shouldn't be talking about it. It would be bad if the extortionists knew about it before we hand the evidence over to the Aurors." "And you expect me to believe this hogwash?" She stared at him in disbelief. "Believe what you want. If you think I'm a liar, I don't care," Potter replied wearily. "If you only knew how much I wish that you don't lie," Ginny huffed. "My first impression was that you're a good bloke. I'd even...," Ginny stopped. This was not the time to talk about her feelings. She looked at the man in front of her. "You can't imagine how much I'd hate to be right." Potter eyed her contemplatively and said after a long pause, "Okay. I trust that you won't talk to anyone about it. At least not for the next week, and absolutely not to the press." "About what?" Ginny snorted. "That I met Harry Potter? And that I bound him and dragged him to my house? Don't worry, I won't ruin your reputation. If that gets in the press, I'll volunteer to go to Peru for the next ten years." Potter chuckled. "No, of course not. I don't care about my reputation. That's about more important things. Do you know this club in Knockturn Alley, it's called The Dancing Cat?" "Never heard of it. I don't go to clubs." Ginny shook her head and leaned back, ready to listen. "This club is a little different," Potter explained. "And it's not just the brothel that makes it different. They offer sex with famous people. Of course, not publicly. Only on a recommendation." "What famous people?" Ginny arched her eyebrows. "Almost everyone you want. Of course, these are not the real people, but polyjuiced girls. The fake ID cards are used to smuggle the girls from Colombia to the UK. I was over there to find these fake IDs and the hair samples to make the Polyjuice potion. The drug ingredients, I've found by accident. Besides trafficking girls, these people obviously make a lot of money from drugs." "Why do they bring the hair to Colombia first and then smuggle it back here? It's a bit stupid, isn't it?" asked Ginny a bit puzzled. "This is hair from people outside the UK, almost all from American celebrities. The hair from British celebrities is of course collected here in London." "Oh, of course." Ginny nodded absently, processing what she had just heard. "Without having another sample, it's hard to make a cross-check to find out who the hair belongs to," Potter said. "Why?" Ginny bit her lower lip, pondering. "You could just make Polyjuice Potion to find out," she finally suggested. Potter chuckled. "Apparently no one had this idea yet." "How much would I have to pay for a night with Harry Potter?" she eyed the man on her sofa. "Not that I'm interested," she added quickly. "I don't know, honestly." Potter gave her a curious look. "But I suspect they make most of their money from extortion. My friend was blackmailed with compromising photographs showing her with men she didn't even know, threatening her to give the photos to the press." "Apparently, you know a lot of famous people." Ginny eyed Potter and snickered. "Or is the friend just a ruse, and it was you who was blackmailed?" Potter snorted. "No, luckily they did not. And for the record, I'm not interested in men. Besides, there are only very few people who know Harry Potter; only family and a few friends. For the rest of the world, I'm James Evans, and I doubt someone would be interested in stealing James Evans hair." "Then you apparently had the bad luck to meet someone who recognizes glamour charms." she grinned. "A few hours ago, I still thought I was lucky to stumble over you. And for the record, I'd still like to invite you for a drink." He gave her a meaningful look. "Do you believe me?" "I ... I really want to believe you," Ginny admitted, meeting his piercing gaze. She'd loved those green eyes of his, the moment she'd looked into them for the first time. They had almost sucked her in, she remembered with a slight shudder. Unnerved by the sudden feeling that his eyes could read her mind, she broke eye contact, reprimanding him, "Stop looking at me with those puppy eyes." "And what keeps you from believing me?" the man asked, wriggling around on the sofa to find a more comfortable position. "Because I'm not sure if I really believe this insane story, or if I just want to believe that the man, I met today is telling the truth." Ginny frowned. "Am I ought to believe my head or my heart?" "And what does your heart say?" Ginny eyed Potter silently. Her face grew warm, and she felt the blush spread over her face when her gaze met his emerald eyes again, which, intensified through the glasses, seemed to look into her soul. She forced herself to avert her eyes. She really wanted to believe Potter; but looking in his eyes made it hard to think. Instead, she watched him out of the corner of her eyes. His initial nervousness had given way to a strange calmness. As reliable as his story sounded, she surely would've heard of such photographs in the press if there had been such rumours. But being in Peru meant that she'd barely read the papers in the last months. Suddenly she froze, remembering. There had been rumours about Gwenog Jones just before she'd left for Peru. She'd have ignored it if it hadn't been about Gwenog Jones - the Gwenog Jones she had adored since her childhood so much that she had considered playing Quidditch herself. Turning her attention back to Potter, she said, "Tell me more, Potter. Try to convince my head too." "What do you want to know?" he asked. With a sly smile, he added, "I'll tell you everything if you promise to call me Harry." "Are these the same people who sent Gwenog Jones' photographs to the Prophet?" With a smirk, she added, "Harry." "They let it slip to the Prophet that they have compromising photographs of her, there was even an article about it in the paper, but never the photographs. I guess, in the end, Mrs Jones gave in and paid." "Is she the friend you work for?" Ginny asked. "No, she's not. My godfather's girlfriend, or rather his fiancée, is being blackmailed. She works in a higher position in the Ministry. For her, it's not just the money, it might be her political survival." Harry said softly. "If she works for the Ministry, why don't the Aurors take care of it?" Ginny frowned. "It is a bit difficult for the Ministry to get evidence from Colombia in an official way. They are not known to be cooperative with the British Ministry. We also suspect that the blackmailers have someone in the Colombian ministry who works for them. In the end, I decided to go to Colombia to get the evidence myself." "Did you find out who is behind this blackmail?" Ginny asked worriedly. "Yeah, we did," Harry said. "Does the name Greengrass mean anything to you?" Ginny nodded. "I know the daughters from my time at Hogwarts. Can't say that I have fond memories of them." "Oh, how stupid of me," Harry exclaimed, looking up at her. "Now I remember. Ginny Weasley. Your name sounded so familiar to me. You were one of the leaders of the Hogwarts resistance, weren't you?" Ginny blushed; her posture stiffened. "Yeah. But that's not something I want to talk about." "I can understand that," Harry acknowledged. "But I remember the Greengrass sisters," said Ginny. "They have always been in the background. It was said that they sold illegal potions to students." Ginny snorted. "In my last year, they didn't even hide it anymore. The Carrows didn't mind that they sold their stuff quite openly. As far as I know, they got their share in the profits." She looked at Harry. "Sounds like they're back in business." "Yeah," Harry confirmed. "The older sister is obviously the brains of the operation, while her brother-in-law takes care of the girls. He's the owner of The Dancing Cat. As far as I know, he was quite a bully during his time at Hogwarts." "Bully is a word that's too good for him." Ginny snorted. "It never really came out, but a lot of girls were abused under the Carrows. He and his cronies were prefects, they could do whatever they wanted without being accountable. If you want to do me a favour, let me personally drag him to Azkaban. What the hell..." Ginny froze, her eyes snapped over to the door where she thought she'd heard voices. She walked over to the window and stared out into the darkness. "What is it?" asked Harry. "I thought I've heard somebody out there," Ginny replied, glancing at her wristwatch. It was already past eleven. At this time, nobody should be walking around so close to the cliffs. "Did you finally decide if you believe me?" Harry asked her. Ginny walked back to the sofa and nodded. "Yes. I think, I do. I'll go and get your trunk. But first, turn around and let me release your bindings." She reached for her wand and leaned over Harry to loosen his ropes when the door burst open with a deafening bang. Someone bellowed a spell and the time seemed to slow down for Ginny. In a futile attempt to face the attacker, she jumped up but couldn't turn fast enough. She felt a violent pain on the back of her head, slumped over the sofa and passed out. |
| Reviews 21 |
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