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Harry Potter stood on the threshold of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes taking deep breaths to calm his frazzled nerves.
He wished that his nerves were a result of the fact that he had been assigned his very first solo case this morning, that he was finally a Lead Auror, and that this was an opportunity to impress his otherwise unimpressed boss. Or, anything quite normal and simple like that.
But the source of his nerves was in fact, not at all simple or normal. At least he didn’t imagine many men to be quite so nervous as he was at the prospect of having to possibly engage in a one-on-one conversation with their ex-girlfriends.
Granted, most men were over their ex-girlfriends and weren’t so hopelessly infatuated with them as he was. And most men definitely weren’t forced to see their ex-girlfriends on Sunday family dinners because they didn’t actually have a family of their own and their ex-girlfriend’s family was also their family.
Well, Harry hadn’t ever experienced normalcy anyway.
He hovered aimlessly on the door for just two more breaths and then forced himself to take a few steps ahead and into the joke shop.
The interiors were very similar to what he remembered seeing a few months ago, but there seemed to be banners advertising an ongoing summer sale for Hogwarts students who were on break.
Harry made his way past a small group of girls who were giggling and pointing rather obviously at him. He reached up to his fringe of hair and let a few of them fall on his forehead, hoping to hide his scar and perhaps avoid any further attention from the onlookers.
He looked in a couple of rows and behind the counter, but she was nowhere to be seen. Hmm, maybe he wouldn’t have to see her that day. He didn’t know whether to be happy about that. Despite the painful lurches of longing that plagued him whenever he looked at her, it was something that always added just a tinge of shine to his otherwise dull days.
But then he heard her. Her louder than necessary, high-pitched, and bossy voice.
“I swear to Merlin, George Weasley if I see any more of your half-baked experiments making it to the stockroom, I am going to shove a tube of Scratch-tastic Salve up your bumhole.”
“You really ought to learn some manners, Ginevra. I am your boss, after all,” Harry heard George reply.
“Alright then boss, are you staying over tonight for the vendor delivery?” Ginny asked. Harry was now moving towards the source of the voices, which seemed to be originating from behind a door towards the back of the shop. The door was ajar and stacks of products were visible from the sliver that was open.
“On second thought, you have always had a very bossy quality about you, little sister. So I’ll leave the vendor deliveries to you.” George’s voice was much louder now. Harry would have guessed that he was right at the door.
“Seriously, George! Again?”
“What can I say, sis? Angelina can’t seem to get enough of your brother.”
Harry was now at the door. He momentarily wondered what would be more polite - letting them finish their conversation but involuntarily listening in to what they were saying, or knocking on the door and interrupting their conversation?
In the end, Harry didn’t get to decide.
The door was opened, and George was standing right behind. He took a few seconds to glance at Harry and then smiled in recognition.
“And what brings young Auror Potter to our joke shop this evening?”
It was only when George said this that Ginny peeked from behind his shoulder, her short stature forcing her to stretch herself up to look at Harry.
And just like that, he was tongue-tied.
“Erm, I was sent, er, to do some routine checks in Diagon Alley.”
Ginny’s red eyebrow shot up.
“And what do you hope to check here, of all places?” It was Ginny who asked. George merely smirked and looked between Harry and his sister with vested interest.
“I mean, I was patrolling Diagon Alley and I thought I’d stop by, and er, see what’s new?” Harry offered. Even to his own ears, it was quite a weak excuse. And he didn’t imagine that Ginny would buy into it for even a second.
“I wonder what the Ministry would say if they saw their Aurors gallivanting about on the payroll?” Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. Her nose scrunched up in a cute way that made Harry want to kiss her. He had the sense to hold back though. Sometimes, he had to give himself a painful reminder of their current state of being broken up.
“Er, I’m off work now.”
“Enough Ginevra,” George interjected, making Ginny pause, her mouth hanging open, no doubt preparing to interrogate Harry further on his flimsy story. “That’s no way to treat our investor, is it?” He turned towards Harry and led him back into the shop by his shoulders. “Come, Mr Potter, let me show you what’s new.”
After that, Harry had to sit through a rather pointless tour of the shop, led by George. Harry feigned interest at the new range of pranks being sold to Hogwarts students at specially discounted prices. George was particularly proud of the ‘Grumpy Galleons’, which looked like real galleons but would complain loudly about being spent carelessly any time someone tried to touch them.
“Perfect for pranking crooks who might want to knick your wallet,” George added in a whisper.
Thankfully, the tour was cut short when George glanced at his watch and announced that Angelina was expecting him for dinner.
“Well, I’ll be off.” George waved at Ginny, who was busy helping a ten-year-old kid pay for his box of stink pellets. “Ginny, you take good care of Harry here and finish the tour, will you?”
Ginny didn’t respond. George threw one last smile at Harry and winked before adding, “Good luck with her!” before stuffing his hands in his pockets and heading out into the Alley, perhaps to walk to the Apparition point that was closest to their shop.
Harry swayed nervously in his spot, wondering how best to break the ice with Ginny, who was now stacking some products that customers had misplaced onto their right shelves. She threw Harry a suspicious glance or two but didn’t seem to have made up her mind about him yet.
“I haven’t seen you since Sunday, how are you?” Harry asked, unable to come up with the right words to actually talk about what he came here to do.
“You don’t have to bother with small talk with me, Harry.” Ginny stacked the last product in her hand, walked a few steps, and stood facing him.
It was only now that Harry had the chance to properly appreciate her casual appearance. Her vibrant hair was pulled back into a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her pale, freckled face. She was wearing a pretty yellow summer dress with thin straps that made Harry want to trail kisses along the smattering of freckles on her shoulders. Harry gulped and tore his eyes away from that piece of exposed skin.
“I know you’re not here for a spontaneous tour of the shop. And you definitely don’t seem like you’re off work,” Ginny smirked and gestured towards his robes. “So, spill it. What do you want?”
“Well, I was hoping to ask you a few questions actually.” Harry thought it was best to get to the point. He was feeling quite uncomfortable as is with the impending situation. He didn’t think dragging it further would help matters.
Ginny laughed, the melodious voice hitting Harry squarely in the chest.
“You sound like such an Auror when you put it like that.” Then realisation dawned on her face. “Wait, you did say that like an Auror. Do you want to ask me ‘official Auror questions’?” she asked, making air quotes as she spoke the last three words.
Harry threw her a lopsided smile, hoping to defuse the tension. Ginny wasn’t amused.
“It’s just a few routine questions related to an ongoing investigation,” he argued.
Ginny snorted for added effect, “What could I possibly have to do with an ongoing Auror investigation?”
“Hopefully, nothing.”
“Harry, you can’t be serious,” Ginny said, her voice raising a bit higher than usual now. Harry glanced around a bit in panic but noticed that most of the crowd had left the shop already. It was dark outside the window now and the bright street lights of Diagon Alley were sparkling in the distance.
“I’m sorry, Ginny.” Harry finally pulled out the papers that incriminated her from the inside of his cloak and handed them to her. Ginny snatched the papers from his hand, a look of disbelief quite obvious on her face. She looked over the papers and back at him.
“These are the vendor receipts for the shop. How did you get these?” she asked.
“The Auror office is looking into Clutterbuck Alchemical Supplies. We have found that the company is a front for a smuggling operation that provides illegal potion ingredients to various businesses here in Diagon Alley as well as elsewhere in the country.” There was now a slight panic evident in Ginny’s eyes. “Their office in London was empty but I found a bunch of vendor receipts there. There were a few with your name on them. So I have no choice but to look into this.”
“Harry, I don’t know anything about this,” Ginny insisted, handing the receipts back to him. “You can’t possibly think that I have something to do with this.”
“Obviously I don’t think that you’re smuggling illegal potion ingredients in your free time, but your name is on these receipts, Ginny. Isn’t that your signature?” He pointed his finger at what was very obviously her handwriting - Harry remembered the little notes she had left him during the few weeks they’d dated in school. In fact, he had kept those notes safe in the drawer of his nightstand.
Ginny pressed her lips together.
“That’s my signature, yes.”
There was a moment of silence. Then, Ginny sighed and crossed her arms in front of her. She regained her usual confident composure and casually walked over to the counter, picking up the keys that hung on the wall next to it.
“Fine, let me lock up the shop and then we can talk about this more. I’ll show you all the vendor deliveries that I’ve taken since I’ve started working here.”
“Thank you,” Harry said and waited for Ginny to be done. She announced an early closing of the shop to the few stragglers that were still hanging out. A few complaints and a couple of hurried checkouts later, Ginny was locking up the front door.
Ginny came to stand in front of Harry, who was suddenly feeling his heart thudding loudly in his chest. He was acutely aware that this was the first time he’d ever been completely alone with Ginny in more than two years. The last time might have been the time when she’d given him a birthday kiss in her room. Trying not to think about that kiss, which had haunted his very existence these last two years, Harry cleared his throat and waited for Ginny to take the lead.
“Let’s go back into the stockroom. That’s where we keep the vendor lists. I should be able to find all the receipts with my name on them,” Ginny said and led Harry to the back. They entered the stockroom side by side. It took Harry a few moments to take in the surroundings. It was a large room with stacks on stacks of products. At first look, it may come off as an unorganised mess, but on a closer look, Harry saw small labels that bore the same loopy handwriting that was on the receipts he was carrying in his cloak.
“I’m in the midst of re-organising a bit,” Ginny explained as Harry absent-mindedly reached for one of the labels on the pile of fireworks closest to him. She reached for the label and straightened it out unnecessarily, signalling to Harry that she was more nervous about things than she was letting on. He felt a pang of guilt. “George has let things get into such a mess since Fred, you know…”
Harry cleared his throat to suppress the lump in his throat that still formed at the mention of George’s twin brother.
“I’m sure he appreciates your company and help.”
Ginny’s lips turned up ruefully, “If he was here more often, I’m sure he would.”
“Is he spending a lot of time with Angelina then?”
Leading Harry ahead towards the end of the room, Ginny laughed and spoke over her shoulder, “Let’s just say that sex with Angelina is my brother’s preferred way of coping with grief.”
The last thing Harry wanted to do was follow up on that thought, not when he’d actively dreamed about coping with his own trauma and grief in a similar way with Ginny. Not that he was ever going to get the opportunity. The time for them had passed him by. He’d been too reluctant, hesitant. When he’d got the news that Ginny had moved on with a guy from her year, he’d been plagued with jealousy at first but then had quickly accepted that he couldn’t quite blame Ginny for leaving him behind. What had he given her, apart from a few weeks of normalcy, followed by heartache and war?
“Here,” Ginny gestured at the desk that sat at the end of the room. She rummaged in a few drawers and then pulled out a few sheets of paper. Harry glanced around awkwardly, not sure what to do with his hands, while he waited for Ginny to find what they were seeking. “I’ve taken about a dozen deliveries so far.”
Harry raised his eyebrows at that.
Ginny nodded. “Yes, that is the situation currently. I think I’m more than just the help at this point. I’m basically running this shop.” She pulled out some papers from her stack and neatly kept them to the side. “In fact, I moved into the flat over the shop last month. To be closer to the business.”
“And your mother let you?”
“Oh, she protested quite vehemently. Thankfully, I had Dad on my side.” And then she smiled mischievously. “And I might have told her that George needed the emotional support from me. That seemed to work.”
“It’s not exactly a lie, I guess.”
“Oh, it most definitely is. George barely even stays over anymore. Not that I’m complaining. I’d rather not have to hear my brother’s prowess in bed again.” Ginny shuddered dramatically.
Harry couldn’t help but laugh, “And the owner of the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes can’t cast a couple of privacy spells?”
Ginny looked up briefly from her work and looked right at Harry as she said, “I think both of them share an exhibition kink.”
Momentarily, Harry was distracted by conjured-up images of what possible kinks Ginny might have. She’s not yours , he insisted. You messed that up for good .
“Well, I think these are all the ones I’ve taken care of since I joined a couple of months ago,” Ginny said and handed him the papers. Having found the perfect excuse to tear away from his less-than-appropriate thoughts, Harry focused on the sheets and carefully examined the list of ingredients that Ginny had signed for. He found three copies of Clutterbuck receipts that seemed to match the dates on his copies, but the list of items did not match.
“The ones I found list the illegal ingredients. See, powdered Basilisk fangs right here,” he said and hovered over the desk, showing Ginny what he was seeing. “But on your version of the same receipt, there isn’t any mention of the ingredient. And there’s a few more like these.”
Ginny pressed her lips again, giving him a hard look.
“If you’re going to propose that I tampered with the receipts-.”
“No, the opposite, actually,” he said before she could truly unleash her wrath on him. “I think Clutterbuck Alchemical Supplies might be tampering with the receipts.”
“What would they hope to accomplish with that? No one was supposed to see them.”
“Right, but maybe that’s the point.” Ginny shook her head, clearly not following Harry’s thought process. “Maybe these receipts,” he held up the Clutterbuck copies, “are the real ones. I mean, they used these internally to track the illegal substances they were putting out into the market. And your copies contain only the legitimate ingredients that you ordered for the shop.”
“But why track the illegal ingredients on copies of our receipts?” Ginny asked.
“Perhaps because these illegal ingredients were smuggled into Diagon Alley along with your ingredients? And then the vendor drops off the ordered items at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes but perhaps leaves the other ingredients as well in a place where someone else can pick them up?”
“That’s a giant leap to make,” Ginny pointed out.
“It’s the only working theory I have.”
“Well, I think there’s one way we might be able to find out more about these clandestine deliveries and whether there’s anything fishy that’s happening.”
“How?”
“Well, I’m expecting another Clutterbuck delivery in the morning,” Ginny announced, smirking in triumph. Harry felt a small thrill - whether it was at the prospect of being one step closer to solving his case or because this meant that he might spend some more time with her, he wasn’t sure. If someone were to ask, he’d insist it was the first one.
“Well, that’s fortunate. What time in the morning?”
“About three.”
“In the morning?!”
Ginny shrugged and said, “Well, they always insisted on early morning deliveries. Before tonight, I had no reason to suspect them?”
Harry asked, “How long have you had Clutterbuck as a vendor?”
“I can’t be sure about the date, but it was fairly recent, I think. I remember George telling me that Peter suggested making the change because Clutterbuck was cheaper than the previous vendor. Peter is our morning stocker. I haven’t met him too many times, because he works 6 am to 12 pm, and I don’t take over until 1 pm.”
“What’s his full name?”
“I think his name is Peter H-something, I can’t remember,” Ginny called out from behind the shelves where she began to look for something.
“What are you looking for?”
“Just this box that contains files pertaining to all employees. George made a big show of adding my file to it. We can find Peter’s details in there. We should have his address on file as well.” Ginny peeked from behind the shelves. “Help me look - it would be a red box.”
Harry put the papers in his hands down on the desk and began to glimpse around the stockroom. There were very few surfaces where someone could hide a red box. He looked through some more drawers without any luck. Then, he spotted what seemed like a tall table that was covered with a large brown blanket.
He pulled away the raggy blanket to reveal a few items cluttered across the tabletop. There, in the midst of the pile was a red box. It seemed red anyway, it could have been pink as well, Harry couldn’t be sure in the light.
He reached for the box, called out to Ginny, “I think I found it,” and pulled open the lid.
BOOM!
There was a loud explosion that startled Harry. And then something was pulling him back viciously, feeling a lot like a hard tug on his lower back. He was pulled with such ferocity that he fell back on his ass.
“Ow,” he heard Ginny exclaim. “What did you touch?”
“The red box you asked me to look for!”
“Where was it?” Harry brought himself to his knees and saw that Ginny was knocked back on her ass as well, closer to him than to the shelves she had been looking through.
“There, at the table hidden beneath the blanket.”
“You moved the blanket?” Ginny’s eyes were wide with panic. Harry pushed himself to his feet and tried to make his way back towards the table. At least until there was another tug on his back, causing him to step back in pain.
“Why can’t I move?” he asked.
Ginny swore loudly, “Because you touched the wrong fucking thing, Potter.”
“What, what did I touch?”
Ginny was at his side now. She pulled him along and took him to the table where he’d discovered the box. Now when they moved together, Harry felt no violent tug and was able to safely reach the table.
The box was now lying on the floor, its lid askew.
“Fuck!!” Ginny screamed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Mind saying that once more? I’m sure there’s someone in London who didn’t hear you,” Harry remarked, unable to hold back his sarcasm at Ginny’s overreaction. Because how bad could it be? “I’m sure it’s not so bad.”
“Oh, you think, do you?” And then she added under her breath, “You better stop thinking for the rest of the night.”
Harry ignored her weird snipe and bent down to pick up the box. Now, he carefully turned it in his hands and noticed the small label on the side.
“It has a label.”
He heard Ginny say through gritted teeth, “Now he sees the label.”
He ignored her again and read the label. And with every word, he could feel the blood drain from his face.
Heartstrings Hex - Ties you up in more ways than one!
Once activated, this enchanted charm creates an invisible magical thread tethering two people together within six feet of each other. But that’s not all—get ready for total honesty as their thoughts occasionally slip out loud for all to hear! Awkward confessions, hilarious misunderstandings, or maybe even heartfelt bonding—it’s all part of the fun!
Perfect for parties, office pranks, or matchmaking schemes (we won’t judge). Get yours today and watch the sparks fly!
“Well, fuck.”
“Glad you agree.”
“And this works? Is it a fully functional product?” Harry clarified, finally daring to look at Ginny, who was standing very still, just a couple of feet away from him, her eyes closed and her eyebrows pinched together. She nodded slowly, carefully.
“It’s a prototype, but yes, I think it works. It’s a bit unpredictable at the moment,” she bit out carefully.
“Unpredictable how?”
“Well, George hadn’t figured out the time frame for the product yet. He initially meant for it to last 24 hours-,” “24 hours?!” Harry couldn’t help but exclaim in the middle, “-but I asked him to reduce it because I thought it was too long. But I don’t know if George managed to make the changes.”
“So we don’t know how long this will last?”
Ginny shook her head slowly, looking equally terrified of the idea of being stuck together with Harry, forced to share every thought, as he was.
“So will we be forced to speak our every thought out loud?” Harry finally asked, unsure whether the hex was compelling him or if it was just him preparing himself for what was to come.
“Er, I’m not sure if it’s every thought, exactly. But yes, the hex has a little dose of Veritaserum, along with some Compelling Potion, forcing participants to be more, er, forthcoming, with their thoughts than they would be otherwise.”
“Could George fix this for us?” Harry pleaded, the panic finally setting in. There was no way of knowing exactly what he’d end up saying to Ginny in the Gordric knew how many hours they’d be stuck together. It was both his worst nightmare and wildest fantasy that came true at the same time.
Ginny laughed out loud now, her shoulders shaking a bit. Harry was quite confused.
“Even if George could fix it, do you really imagine that he’d volunteer to?” Ginny asked, evidently still quite amused with Harry’s naive suggestion. “George lives for this kind of chaos. If anything, he’d make sure to make the time to watch.” Then she took the box from Harry’s hands and put it back on the table as he found it. “No, I’d rather we hide from everyone we know so that I don’t have to reveal embarrassing secrets to any more than the one person I’m forced to.”
Harry nodded in agreement.
And then, “What embarrassing secrets do you have?”
Ginny shot him a chilling look of warning.
“Can’t wait even a few hours, can you?”
“Sorry,” Harry offered feebly. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so horrid. After all, he wouldn’t be the only one baring his secrets. But another part of his brain was swift to point out that out of the two of them, he was the only one still pining for the other.
Don’t think about it!
“Don’t think about what?” Ginny asked.
Harry blinked. Had he said that aloud?
“Can you hear my thoughts?” he asked.
“Harry, have you lost it already?” Ginny asked. “Of course, I can’t hear your thoughts. That’s not how the hex works. You told yourself not to think about something.”
“I didn’t realise that I said that out loud.”
“Word of advice,” Ginny offered, now stepping closer to him, causing another lurch in his stomach, “If you tell yourself not to think about it, you’ll definitely end up thinking about it.”
“Right, got it.” Harry took two steps back, trying to put some distance between them. Her proximity brought with it the familiar flowery smell that he still dreamed about. It intoxicated him, made his heart race, and filled his every pore with need.
But before he could step back once more, Ginny grabbed his arm and pulled him back with surprising strength.
“Are you mental? We’re tethered together, Harry.” She hooked her arm through his and walked him away from George’s table of trouble. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be thrown across the room again.”
“Right,” he said.
“Is it that you’re naturally good at Occlumency or is your brain just completely devoid of thoughts? I feel like I can’t get myself to shut up.”
Except, Harry’s brain did have some thoughts. Namely, one.
“You smell nice,” he blurted out.
There was a beat of silence.
He continued, “And I’m pants at Occlumency. Snape tried and failed to teach me. In my fifth year.” Harry dared a look at Ginny, who was stuck to his side. There was a touch of pink colouring her cheeks. “The year that, er, I was almost-.”
“-possessed,” Ginny finished. She nodded. “Yes, I remember.”
“Right, of course, you remember.”
“You were a downright prat that year,” Ginny remarked. “But I guess Voldemort sniffing around in one’s brain can do that to a person.” Then she blurted out, “I was so mad at you for saying that you forgot about me being possessed. I couldn’t believe that you were so self-involved as that.”
Harry felt his cheeks colour with embarrassment. He couldn’t defend himself, so he just cringed a little and said, “Yeah, it wasn’t my finest hour.”
“It’s alright, you grew up,” Ginny waved the conversation away. Harry had a feeling that she had more to say on the subject, but didn’t want to. Perhaps the hex was unpredictable still, just like she’d said. “And, thank you,” she added. Harry was about to ask what for, but she went, “For saying that I smell nice. It’s just what a girl wants to hear when she’s finished a twelve-hour shift at work. And I have the advantage of knowing that you’re not just flattering me.”
“You always smell nice,” Harry added. He truly couldn’t hold the words back. It felt natural to say them.
Ginny laughed softly.
“Is the hex turning you into a flirt, Potter?”
“Maybe.”
Harry could feel a silly smile take over his features.
“Okay, I think it’s best if we focus on the case. That way, we can hopefully clear my name and also possibly keep ourselves from saying something we can’t take back,” Ginny said and pointed towards the vendor lists. She led Harry to a window in the corner of the room, where two owls sat perched in their cages.
“Meet Del and Avery,” Ginny said proudly, pointing towards the owls. “I named them.”
“Why Del and Avery?” Harry asked, wondering why Ginny, who had a penchant for coming up with ridiculous names, chose to name two owls the most ordinary names he could think of.
“Because they do deliveries? Del-Avery-ies,” Ginny said, breaking the joke down and snickering, “Get it?”
“You’re terrible.” Harry tried but failed to hold back a smile. Even when she cracked really bad jokes, he couldn’t help but find her funny. She had always been good at making him laugh. “You’re truly, truly terrible.”
“Hush, you laughed.”
Ginny reached into the cupboard next to the owls and pulled out another sheet of paper. “This is the latest order I placed with Clutterbuck, the one delivering tonight.” She handed the paper to Harry. “Do you want to stay over and wait for the delivery? If you secretly observe it, you might see something worthwhile?”
“Do I have a choice?” Harry gestured at the invisible tether between them.
“I suppose you don’t.”
“Er, shouldn’t we find the red box with employee files?”
“Right, of course.” Ginny scanned the room. “I think I’ve checked everywhere I can here. Let’s go check the flat. He keeps some of the important shop documents in his room.”
Harry had never been inside Fred and George’s flat. As he stepped in, he noted that it smelled a lot like the Burrow. It might have had something to do with the cosy knitted pillows and throws that resembled the ones Mrs Weasley made.
The flat was quite small - a small drawing room that could be walked across in three long strides. A small ragged sofa was tucked to the side with a round coffee table. There was a two-person dining table by the window on the opposite wall. There were a few news clippings about the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes that were adorned on the wall. There was a small kitchen to the side of the dining area and three doors that led into other rooms in front of the kitchen.
He followed Ginny close enough that they wouldn’t tug on their invisible tether but far enough that he could avoid being overwhelmed by her closeness.
“It smells like the Burrow,” noted Harry.
Ginny hummed in agreement. “Mum insists on sending a basket full of leftovers every time one of us goes home.” To make her point, she reached her hand towards the jar that sat atop the dining table and pulled out one of her mother’s chocolate orange biscuits. She nibbled on the one in her hand and offered Harry one with her other hand.
“Thank you,” Harry accepted the biscuit and inhaled it in one large bite. He hadn’t realised it, but he was feeling quite ravenous.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yeah, I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I’ve been quite busy chasing down Clutterbuck.”
“Do you think they’ll even attempt a delivery tonight if they know that an Auror is after them?” Ginny leaned on the dining table and reached for another biscuit. A very Ginny-esque smirk lit her face. “I mean, if I was running the smuggling operation, I’d be shutting shop and proceeding to move to Finland if I knew that Harry Potter was after me.”
“I don’t think they’re aware that the Auror office is after them. And they definitely don’t know that I’m on the case.”
“That’s good.”
“I’m not that scary, am I?”
“No, but to everyone else you’re the Saviour who killed the darkest wizard that ever lived.”
“Not to you?”
Ginny smiled even more and blushed. “Not to me. There are a few myths that get easily busted when you know someone as well as I know you.”
Harry knew he shouldn’t ask, but the hex left him no choice.
“And how well do you know me?”
“Well enough to know your spunk face,” Ginny said, her face already taking quite a panicked expression as the words exited her mouth. She immediately clapped her hands to her mouth and groaned loudly.
Harry felt himself grow quite red in the face.
Images of those secluded afternoons they’d shared at Hogwarts came hurtling back to the forefront of Harry’s mind and he wondered if she was thinking of them as well.
After about a minute of awkward silence, Ginny finally pulled her hands back and met Harry’s eyes, her freckles burning bright against her bright pink cheeks. “Well, that was bound to happen, wasn’t it? I vote we ignore what I said and press on.” She squared her shoulders and strode towards the first door on the left, leaving Harry no choice in the matter.
The hex was clearly not forcing them to share every single thought because he found himself wishing very consciously that he could say the same about Ginny, but their physical explorations had been cut brutally short by Dumbledore’s death.
She paused in front of the door and then glanced at another door on the right, swaying uncomfortably.
“What is it?”
Ginny grew slightly red in the face when she said, “I might, er, need to pee.” Harry choked out in response, “Right now?” “Well yeah, I had like half a litre of pumpkin juice in the evening. Had I known I’d be stuck within 6 feet of you for however many hours, I might have exercised some caution. Or peed before you opened that damn box.”
Harry shifted uncomfortably, “So, how do you want to do this?”
Ginny pulled him by the sleeve of his robes and first went to the door on the right. Harry saw that it was a small but tidy bathroom. Again, it reminded him of the Burrow. But mostly, it reminded him of Ginny. The scent of her flowery shampoo was overwhelming in the small space.
“I can, erm, turn away while you do your business?” Harry offered. Ginny eyed him with uncertainty. “Wouldn’t you hear my business though?”
“I could cast a privacy charm?”
Ginny shook her head. “You can’t, the hex won’t allow it. Otherwise, it’d be quite easy to defeat the purpose of the hex. It forces you to stay in close quarters and say and hear the things you wouldn’t otherwise. Forced intimacy.”
“Once this is over, permit me to murder George.”
Ginny bit back a laugh.
“It might have been my idea to create this product,” Ginny admitted, “Just the idea of it though. George was the one making it.”
Harry swore out loud, “You Weasleys are going to be the death of me.” And then he asked, “Were you planning to use it on someone?” He didn’t know what made him ask this. He tried to picture the boy he had heard she was seeing and tried to suppress the building ache in his stomach as he imagined Ginny sharing such an intimate experience with him.
“Yes, you,” Ginny simply replied. “This is the longest conversation we’ve had since the war ended. My evil plan is already working.” Harry’s eyes widened for a moment, but when Ginny chuckled nervously, his shoulders sagged. Of course, she was just joking. He joined in with her laughter half-heartedly, while he was low-key wished that her words had been true.
“Oh, relax. We’ll survive this.” And then Ginny grabbed his shoulders and turned him around. Harry was feeling quite aware of her presence behind him but focused on the small chip in the tile in his eyeline. Focusing on that would be a good way to not think about what she was doing.
“Keep talking to me, Harry, so that you don’t hear too much.”
Well, fuck.
“Er, I’m trying very hard not to think about the fact that your bottom half is naked right now,” Harry ended up saying. He closed his eyes and cringed internally.
Ginny breathed out, “Harry! That’s the dominant thought in your brain right now?”
“As someone who only had the opportunity of seeing the top half while we dated, you can forgive me for being curious.”
“You’re actively imagining what I look like?” Ginny screamed.
“I wouldn’t say actively.”
Harry heard the telltale sound of a flush. And then Ginny huffed, “Well, as revenge, I am now going to imagine what your prick looks like.”
Harry burst out into a laugh. “Haven’t you seen it already? You literally just boasted about knowing my spunk face outside.” Ginny was next to him now, washing her hands in the sink. Turning to look straight into his eyes, Ginny said, “You think I saw it the one time we sneaked around under your cloak? It was too dark, and I mostly just felt it.” Then she patted his shoulder encouragingly, “It felt quite nice though. Strong, solid. I’m sure all the ladies will love it.”
“I hate this hex,” Harry complained. “Wait, what ladies?”
“Ron told me you went out on a couple of blind dates,” Ginny spoke over her shoulder, their hands connected as they walked out of the bathroom. The tone of her voice had changed, now a slight edge existed where there hadn’t been one before.
Harry felt the immediate need to clarify, “It was the one blind date and I regretted it even before I met the girl.”
“So blind dates aren’t for you?”
“I don’t think any dates are for me.”
Ginny shrugged her shoulders and said, “I think dating someone is precisely what you need in life, Potter. To make you more normal.” She shrugged at him and added, “You might want to look around you and find a girl who suits you.”
She made that comment so casually that Harry couldn’t help but feel hurt. Was there no part of her that was bothered by the prospect of him dating someone else?
“No, thanks. I think I’m okay on my own. I’m frankly not interested in anyone at the moment.” Except you. But thankfully, the hex didn’t force him to say this.
They now stood outside George’s room. For a moment, Harry thought that Ginny was about to say something, but the hex must have failed her, because she shut her mouth and turned away from him, towards the door.
“Shall we?” she asked before she twisted the knob to the door.
They explored George’s room for about ten minutes, but in the end, Ginny gave up.
“Where else could it be?” Harry asked.
Ginny seemed distracted.
“Er, Gin, where else could the box be?” Harry nudged her carefully on her shoulder. She briefly looked up at him with softer eyes than he’d seen all evening.
“You haven’t called me Gin since we broke up,” she observed wistfully.
Harry wanted to protest, but he realised quickly that she was right. Had it really been that long since he’d called her that? Because to him, she’d always be Gin. His Gin .
“Er, yeah, it’s been long, hasn’t it?” He chuckled nervously. “Could I still call you that?”
Ginny blinked, momentarily confused.
“Of course. Of course, you can.” She spoke softly. Her eyes fluttered, Harry exhaled, and there was a brief moment when neither of them said anything, perhaps both of them too busy reminiscing in their heads. But then the moment passed.
“Okay, where else could it be?” Harry brought them back. If he was to keep himself away from thoughts of kissing Ginny, he needed to keep focusing on the case.
“We could check Fred’s room?” Ginny said, exiting George’s bedroom and glancing at the door adjacent to the one they were standing in front of.
“Isn’t that your room?”
Ginny stuttered a bit. It was quite unlike her.
“What?”
“I said I sleep on the sofa.” Harry noticed that Ginny looked quite sheepish to have to admit that.
Before Harry could even consider stopping himself, he blurted, “Why?”
Ginny took a deep breath.
“I’m literally only telling you this because of the hex,” she warned. Somehow, Harry doubted that it was the case. He’d felt the hex forcing him to say things. It never warned. It just slid out of your mouth the way a thought casually slips into your mind. “I just feel weird being in his room. George told me that I could move his things into our attic at home. I think he just didn’t want to do it himself. But I,” she sighed again, “I couldn’t do it either. So I’ve been sleeping on the sofa. And I have Hermione’s extendable bag that I carry home every weekend to get fresh clothes in.”
Harry didn’t know what to say.
“It’s pathetic, you can say it.”
It was vulnerable, as was the way Ginny was hugging herself. She seemed smaller somehow, younger, maybe even a bit less confident than her usual self. It was easy for Harry to forget that she was just as scarred from the war as anyone else. Maybe even more. She was simply better at hiding it than most other people he knew. He didn’t know when he’d stopped trying to see the real Ginny behind the mask.
“It’s not pathetic.” He gently pried her fingers and took her hand. “I’m sorry I never asked you about how you were coping. I guess I just thought you were okay. You looked it.”
Ginny laughed without humour.
“I do look it, don’t I?”
“I should have tried to dig deeper.”
Ginny nodded, “You should have.” A flicker of surprise crossed her face as if she hadn’t expected herself to say that to Harry. He realised that the hex was forcing her to be more honest.
“I’m here now,” he assured her. “You shouldn’t suppress your grief, Gin. Talking about it can help you process it.”
Ginny's stare hardened. Harry could see the little twitch in her jaw, but she turned away from him very quickly and then mumbled something inaudibly.
“What was that?” he asked.
“Let’s focus on finding the box,” Ginny simply said, twisting the knob to Fred’s door harder than she would normally have. Harry was surprised. What had he said to piss her off?
“That’s not what you said under your breath,” he told her.
“No,” she agreed, not making any attempt to elaborate on what she’d actually said.
“Right, and will you tell me what’s suddenly made you so short with me?”
She momentarily glared at him before saying, “I’d rather not start a proper fight with you.”
“Why not?” Harry asked.
“Because I don’t think it’s a good use of my time,” she said, looking through Fred’s things.
Harry had to admit, that hurt. He told her so.
“Harry, I don’t want to take lessons from you on how to handle or process my grief.”
“I’m just trying to be a good friend,” he explained.
Ginny laughed cruelly, before hurting him again by saying, “We’re not friends.”
Harry felt the indignant anger rising within him. Sure, they weren’t together anymore and he wasn’t asking her to be, but they could at least be friends, couldn’t they?
“Fine, I’m offering advice as someone who’s known you for nine years.”
“Ah yes, let’s see your advice. I shouldn’t suppress my grief? Talking about it can help me process it?”
“What’s wrong with that?” Harry demanded.
“The same way you talked to me about things? The same way you shared your grief with me?” Ginny whirled around, her eyes seething with equal parts pain and anger. “I waited for you to talk to me, Harry. I wanted to give you your space after everything, but I hoped that you’d get off your arse at some point and come talk to me. But I was an idiot, wasn’t I?” She had now given up on the search and was jabbing her finger into his chest accusingly. “The fact is, you never needed me. You probably processed your grief with Ron and Hermione. And I should have known better than to wait for you. Again.” Harry tried to protest, but she didn’t let up. “So don’t pretend to be my friend and be there for me in my grief. I’ve got it covered without you.”
Without waiting for a reply, Ginny went back to rummaging through Fred’s things. Since they couldn’t be too far away from each other, their hands were still joined and she dragged him along from one place to another to check them.
“I didn’t-.” Harry didn’t know what to say, or how to begin. He’d known that he’d been partly responsible for the distance between them after the war, but he’d never imagined that Ginny had waited. He had wanted to give her some space, believing that she might still be hurt from their breakup, the war, from losing her brother. And she was hurt, wasn’t she? But he’d been blind. He’d never realised that she could be both hurt but still want him around. “I’m sorry. I thought it would be best to give you space after all that had happened. And then you went back to school, and I-.”
Ginny ignored him.
“Found it,” she exclaimed after a couple more minutes. There was a forced excitement in her voice. Harry could tell that she was trying hard to not pick up their previous conversation again. “Let’s see, Peter, Peter…” She pulled out one file with a flourish. “Here he is - Peter Hickinbottom. Unfortunate last name.”
It amazed Harry how quickly Ginny could go from raw emotions back to the mask she put on for the world to see.
Harry reached out.
Ginny tried to hand him the file, but Harry took it and threw it aside on the bed, instead taking both her hands in his.
“I’m sorry.”
Ginny said nothing, her blazing eyes staring at Harry, unyielding as always.
“I should have been there for you, should have let you be there for me. I wanted to, but I had it in my head that you didn’t need me around to burden you with my shit when you had so much of your own.”
“Harry, I think at some point you have to realise that you can’t decide things for everyone. And least of all, for me.” Her brown eyes softened and she squeezed his hands. “Anyway, it’s all in the past, isn’t it? Let’s focus on the case, yeah?”
Harry let it drop. His mind was blank, so maybe the hex was struggling to keep him talking. He picked up the file he had discarded and looked through the address and contact details. He needed to interrogate the man.
“Well, I have to find him.”
“Finally!” hissed Ginny, pumping her fist. “One benefit of being tied to you for the night. I get to tag along on Auror adventures.”
Harry laughed, “You’re not going anywhere, Gin.” It felt good to call her that again. “I’m sending a message to Neville to apprehend the guy and take him in for questioning.”
Ginny grabbed Harry’s arm and pleaded, “Please Harry, you can’t be serious. The one fun thing we might be able to do in this case and you want to hand it off to Neville? Please, please, take me with you. I promise to help catch him!”
“There’s no way I’m putting you in danger like that,” Harry rejected her pleas. “Besides, we need to be here, for the early morning delivery. Who knows how long it will take to track Hickinbottom down?”
“Come on, Potter! Peter seems like a harmless enough bloke, how dangerous could it be?”
“If what I’m thinking is true, then he might be a plant sent by Clutterbuck to smuggle illegal ingredients into Diagon Alley through Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. And that certainly makes him possibly dangerous.”
“Ugh, you’re no fun.”
Harry ignored her and pulled out his wand, casting a Patronus. Harry’s stag pranced out of the window with his message to Neville.
“Well, what should we do now?” Ginny asked, pouting her lips in disappointment.
“We will now wait for Neville to handle Hickinbottom, while you and I take the latest delivery,” Harry checked his watch, the one Mrs Weasley had gifted to him on his seventeenth birthday, “in about four hours.” Harry hovered for a bit and then looked down at his stomach, which gurgled on cue. “Do you have something to eat that’s more substantial than biscuits?”
“We don’t have anything pre-cooked, but I could whip something up for you?” Ginny offered.
“That would be lovely, thank you.”
Both of them made their way into the small kitchen. Ginny pulled open the pantry and then called out, “Would some pasta work for you? I have some sausages that I can cut up into it.”
“Sounds amazing, to be quite honest.”
Ginny smirked at him.
“Hold the praise until you taste it, Potter.”
“I’m sure whatever you cook will be better than Ron’s cooking. And I have survived that for one whole year.”
“Why did you put up with it?” Ginny asked, shaking her head. “You could always call Kreacher back, you know?”
“I could,” Harry said. “But even though he doesn’t say it, I think he gets a bit restless just cooking for us. There isn’t enough work for him. And he likes to keep busy, so he’s happier at Hogwarts.” And then he chuckled happily. Harry had grown quite fond of his elf, whom he had hated for quite some time. “He checks in with me on weekends though. He is quite good at pestering me to eat more vegetables. I think he might be afraid that I’ll end up killing myself on a diet of sandwiches and beer.”
“That’s awfully sweet of him,” Ginny commented with a smile. “And you?” Ginny struggled a bit to reach the top shelf of the pantry. Harry stepped forward and grabbed the can of tomatoes she was reaching for. The closeness left Harry a bit breathless, so he stepped back as quickly as he could, stumbling on his feet a little. “Thanks,” Ginny breathed out in a quick rush of air. “You didn’t cook?” she asked, picking up her previous line of questioning.
“I cooked some as a young kid, for the Dursleys, you know. But since then, I never tried again.” Harry picked out one sausage from the packet Ginny had cut open and bit off a piece, chewing lazily. “Maybe it reminds me too much of them. Also, I don’t like the kitchen at Grimmauld Place. So Ron did most of the cooking. At least until he moved.”
“I can’t believe that Ron’s moved in with Hermione,” Ginny commented, putting on some water for boiling. “It just seems so grown up.” She sighed deeply. She eyed Harry for a few moments. “You shouldn’t be all alone in that grim old house, you know. I always hated that place,” she shuddered, “even when Sirius was around.”
“I wouldn’t know where else to go,” he said.
“Why don’t you get your own place?” Ginny suggested, pouring the tomatoes in a pan, and adding a bit of salt and cheese. “It’s not like you can’t afford it. I remember you telling me once in school that you wanted your own place.”
Harry was reminded of the day - one afternoon after lunch, they had stolen an hour from Ginny’s OWL prep and spent the time discussing future plans. Even though Harry had never told her then, he had meant to find a place for both of them, not just for himself.
Harry felt the hex kicking in and he was speaking before he could even think about the repercussions of his words, “When I told you that, I meant that I wanted to find a place for us. I don’t know if I want to bother finding a new place to live, now that it’s just me on my own.”
Ginny had been licking the tomato sauce from the back of a wooden spoon when he said what he said and now, she had frozen, her tongue still on the back of the spoon. It took her a few seconds to process what he’d said and finally put the spoon down.
“Er, the sauce is good, I think,” she said, her voice unstable. Harry felt his cheeks flush again. Merlin, he couldn’t wait for this damn hex to be done with them. Ginny was silent for a few seconds more, moving the spoon around in the pan, even though Harry knew that the sauce was as mixed up as it needed to be.
Then she cleared her throat and whispered, “Did you mean that? You saw us moving in together?”
Harry took another bite of his sausage, trying to sound as casual as he could, “Yeah, of course. I had imagined we’d be together for a while, you know. Back then, thinking about a future helped me survive.”
“Right, of course.” Ginny wiped her hands on her skirt and repeated, “Back then.”
There was a moment of silence. Harry couldn’t help but feel hurt that even after basically admitting that he had imagined a whole future with her, Ginny hadn’t reacted beyond just asking him if he’d meant it. He’d been hesitant to fully give up hope on their relationship, but it seemed that Ginny was entirely over them. From where he stood, he couldn’t see Ginny’s face as she dropped some pasta into the boiling water, but she seemed quite alright with his revelation.
She also broke the ice again and began to tell him about the few Quidditch trials she had attended so far. She also mentioned someone named Daniel, who was trying out as a Chaser for a few teams as well. Harry suspected this was the same person he’d found out about. So even though the jealous monster that slept in his chest was threatening to rise again, Harry suppressed the feeling.
“Are you still hoping to make it to the Harpies?”
“I would prefer to be recruited by the Harpies, yes.” Ginny drained the pasta and put it into the sauce. “But honestly, I’ll play for any team that’s willing to take me. Don’t tell Ron this, but even the Cannons if I have no other choice. I’d rather be a mediocre Quidditch player than have to do a dead-end Ministry job.” She quickly glanced at him and put up her palms. “No offence.”
“None was taken,” Harry assured her.
The pasta was finally done and Ginny was serving a plateful for Harry. When she handed it to him, he said appreciatively, “This smells great, thanks Gin.”
They took their food to the small dining table.
“This is really nice, Ginny.” Harry took two more bites in quick succession. Now that he was eating, he finally realised just how ravenous he’d been. Ginny laughed and commented, “Slow down, will you? Someone might mistake you for Ron.”
Another bite later, Harry said, “I didn’t know you could cook.”
Ginny shrugged, “Not as well as Mum, of course. But I got a lot of practice last year.” She paused for half a second and then spoke, “When the three of you were in Australia looking for Hermione’s parents, it was just Mum and me at home, at least most of the time. And Mum got so depressed that she was barely getting out of bed. So I took over the household duties. It was a nightmare the first few weeks, to be honest.” She chuckled nervously. “I was underage, so I had to do everything by hand.”
“I didn’t know,” was all Harry could manage. He couldn’t imagine the Weasley matriarch unable to get out of bed to cook. Maybe she had always pretended to be strong in front of him. Just how much had Ginny managed on her own? All the while, he’d been under the impression that what she needed from him was space. But now, he could see that he’d been a coward, running away with Ron and Hermione, instead of staying back and telling Ginny everything he should have.
“I’m sorry.”
Ginny looked up in surprise.
“It’s fine, Harry. Mum is okay now.”
“No, I don’t mean for that.” He took a deep breath. “I should have been there for you. I should have stayed back, not run off the first chance I got. I wanted to talk to you and thought a lot about telling you everything that happened during that year. But I lost my nerve. And I think I might have convinced myself that what you needed from me was space. I see now that I was being selfish.”
Ginny stopped eating. For a moment, Harry thought he spotted just a splash of moisture in her eyes, but she blinked and her brown eyes looked unreadable again.
“It’s alright, Harry. You didn’t owe me the truth. We were broken up anyway.”
“Not because I stopped liking you,” Harry retorted, a little hurt at how quickly she’d said that he hadn’t owed her anything. He wanted her to be angry at him. “It was only to keep you safe.”
“Well, I was quite safe at Hogwarts after you left,” Ginny spat out. “Mission accomplished.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think-.”
“That Death Eaters would want to attack me whether or not I dated you? Because not only was I one of the students running Dumbledore’s Army, but also because I was a Blood Traitor and the sister of Ron Weasley, who was the well-known close companion of Harry Potter since they were eleven?”
“If you’d been dating me, it wouldn’t have been just the Carrows you’d have had to worry about. Voldemort himself could have come after you.”
“So what?”
“You can’t be serious, Ginny. How would you expect me to focus on fighting a war if I was too scared that you were in constant danger?”
Ginny scoffed angrily, “The same way I fought a war without any knowledge of whether or not you would survive. I wasn’t yours to protect anyway.”
“I never stopped wanting to protect you, Gin.”
“I didn’t want protection from you, Harry.”
Harry wanted to ask, what did you want then , what do you want now , but the hex failed him. And he couldn’t muster up the courage to ask. Because he was too scared that her answer would be nothing .
Ginny got up and gathered their plates.
“Should we try getting some sleep maybe?” Ginny asked him. “It might help pass the time until the delivery.”
Harry checked his watch again. It was midnight. They had about three hours until the delivery. They had nothing else to do, so he nodded, acquiescing to her suggestion.
Five minutes later, Harry and Ginny were lying side by side in Fred’s bed. They were under one king-sized bed cover. Even though their bodies were not touching, Harry was very aware of how close Ginny was lying next to him.
Harry adjusted his bulky robes. Even though he was wearing a shirt underneath his robes, he wasn’t sure that he could be in the same bed as Ginny without the added layer of protection.
“This is the first time I’m sleeping in here,” Ginny whispered. The flat seemed quieter now. The noises from Diagon Alley had died down as well. “It feels quite weird.”
Harry extended his hand and took hers, squeezing her fingers in reassurance. Ginny turned to look at him, her eyes were calmer now, more tender. He pulled his hand back.
“Sorry,” Harry said. “Does the hex compel you to do things as well?”
“Maybe,” Ginny responded. She was still looking at him.
There was more silence.
There was a bright white light that filled the small room and both Ginny and Harry looked up to see a silver bowtruckle fly into the room. Harry recognised it as Neville’s patronus. But before he could explain to Ginny, she exclaimed, “Neville.”
Harry barely had any time to react to the fact that Ginny knew Neville’s patronus. Because Neville hadn’t been able to fully form a corporeal patronus during their DA lessons.
The patronus spoke, ‘ I couldn’t find the guy, Harry. His flat is empty. I checked with his Muggle neighbours and they haven’t seen him in days either. One neighbour has seen him frequenting a nearby pub. I’m heading there to see if I can nab him. I’ll keep you informed. ’
“Has he been coming to work?” Harry asked Ginny.
She nodded, “He took a few days off about a week or so ago, I think, but otherwise he’s been coming in for work.”
“Well, I think our best bet is to wait for the delivery. Let’s hope Neville can get him.”
The patronus disappeared.
“How did you know that was Neville’s patronus?” Harry asked.
Ginny bit her lip as if she wasn’t sure whether Harry would like the answer, but she told him anyway. “It was last year. The Carrows were supposedly teaching us to cast the Patronus Charm. So they tied some of us with a couple of Dementors on the loose. To feed on us, of course. The Carrows must have thought that Neville wouldn’t be able to create a strong enough Patronus to fight them off. But he did it. Saved us all.” Ginny looked up at Harry, a soft, sad smile on her face. “That was the first time he was able to create a corporeal one. The Carrows punished him all night as a reward for his success.”
Harry wasn’t able to respond appropriately. He didn’t think there were any words to express just how angry he felt that Ginny had been forced to live through such dark times at Hogwarts, a place that had always felt safe to him.
“Can I ask you a question?” Ginny asked him.
Harry looked up at her. “Of course.”
“What happy memory did you think of?” Ginny pulled the bed cover up to her chin protectively. “Before, when you created your Patronus?”
“It was one of those days we spent next to the Black Lake when you told me you wanted to play Quidditch professionally,” Harry answered without a second thought. He winced internally only after having said it. What would she think if she knew that he still thought of her as his happiest memory?
“Really?” she asked, shuffling closer to him. In the dark room, her flowery scent was even more concentrated. “I didn’t know that you still thought of that.”
“Yeah, it was a happy moment for me. It was easy, normal. It was before everything went bad.”
Ginny leaned back from him, her shoulders rigid. She chewed her lip thoughtfully, “Right, of course. It was normal, before everything went bad.” And then, “So I had nothing to do with it then.”
Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity.
“Of course, it had everything to do with you. What are you on about?”
Her eyes flashed with a fight. She sat up on the bed. Harry followed suit.
“You just said that it was because it was normal because it was before everything went bad! So it was just that you missed a simpler time, isn’t it?” Ginny took the corner of the bed cover and twisted it in her fingers. It was clear to Harry that she was struggling with how open, how vulnerable the hex was forcing her to be. “And I get it, Harry, I do. I know that things haven’t been so normal for you, ever. So if I could help you with that, it makes me happy. For most people, it’s quite normal to have a summer fling, isn’t it?”
“Are you mad?” blurted Harry. “Gin, you were never just a summer fling.”
“Wasn’t I?”
“I literally told you that I imagined a whole future with you not even half an hour ago.”
“Yes, you also added that back then, that was your way of surviving everything that was going on.”
Harry couldn’t help but scream, “And why do you think it helped me survive?” He forced himself to take on a calmer tone and let his fingers grip his hair. “Gin, the reason I use that memory so often when I’m casting a Patronus is that when you told me about wanting to become a Quidditch player, I couldn’t help but imagine my future with you. A peaceful future where you would be a professional Chaser, but hopefully you would consider taking a long enough break to have a few kids with me. To this date, nothing else has come close to making me happier than the thought of building a future with you.”
This time, Harry was quite sure that what he saw welling up in Ginny’s eyes were tears.
“And I want to clarify this once more. It’s not because I craved a normal future with just anyone . It was because I wanted a future with you . And I still do.”
When finally a single tear slid down her face, Harry realised what the hex had made him admit. His secret was out - he was hopelessly, irrevocably, and endlessly in love with Ginny Weasley. He had been for years, and if he had to make a guess, he’d say that he would feel the same for decades to come.
But he knew that maybe their time had passed.
This had been a night of pent-up emotions and unsaid feelings finally coming to light for both of them. But even if the hex had forced him to reveal his secret, he wanted to salvage whatever relationship he had left with Ginny. It would absolutely crush his soul if he couldn’t even be around her as a friend. Even though his entire being wanted nothing more than to not be friends with her, he would rather be that than not see her ever again.
“And I know that I’m saying all this a bit too late. I know that you’ve moved on, that you’re with someone else, so just go ahead and forget what I said, alright? I wouldn’t even say any of it if it wasn’t for the stupid Heartstrings Hex-.”
“Who told you that I’m seeing someone?” Ginny asked, her jaw set in fury. The tears had now dried up, replaced by anger and confusion.
“Er, Dean Thomas?”
“What?”
“Well, Dean said that you’d grown quite close to a guy from your year. He said he saw you with him in Hogsmeade a few times. And so I thought-.”
“So you thought I was seeing someone? Based on what Dean Thomas told you? Did he also tell you that Daniel and I are both Chasers and helped each other practice for tryouts the entire year? Did he also tell you that we hung out in Hogsmeade together because we were meeting prospective scouts at the Hog’s Head?”
“Well, no.” Harry did feel quite stupid. “He did not tell me that.”
“I wonder why.” Ginny crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Oh yes, it might have something to do with the fact that Dean Thomas has nothing to do with me. And had you actually bothered to ask me, Harry Potter, I would have told you that despite what I might keep telling myself, I have miserably failed to try to get over you, multiple times.”
A knot in Harry’s stomach unclenched. And he sat there, rooted to the spot, unable to draw closer, unwilling to draw back. The room grew warmer. Or maybe it was just him.
“So you’re not seeing someone?” he asked again, dumbly.
“Harry, do you still like me?”
“Yes, of course.” Wasn’t that obvious? “Isn’t that obvious? I told you, I broke up with you to keep you safe, not because I stopped liking you.”
Ginny closed her eyes and swore.
“Then why the fuck did you not talk to me after the war?”
“I told you, I was scared. That you were mad at me. And I wasn’t sure if I was ready to talk about everything that had happened. And then you were at school.” Harry thought this was probably the best time to tell her about what had happened during the Easter holidays. “And around Easter, I’d thought that I’d come to see you at Hogwarts because Mrs Weasley told me that you’d chosen to stay back and practise Quidditch. But when I got there, I ran into Dean, and then he told me about Daniel, and I thought-. Either way, I left after that. I was sure I had missed my chance.”
“You came to Hogwarts to see me?”
Harry admitted sheepishly, “I had been hoping to ask you out again.”
Ginny put her face in her hands.
“You’ve been under the impression that I moved on from you?”
“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.”
At that, Ginny turned to face him, put her hands on his shoulders and forced him to look at her. “Harry Potter shut up and kiss me, you absolute fucking tosser.”
And then her hand was on his robes and she was pulling him close. Their lips met, tentatively at first. And then muscle memory kicked in and they were leaning into each other with all they had.
Kissing Ginny again, feeling her soft lips against his, meeting her tongue with his, it was all that Harry had dreamed about, but also nothing like he could have imagined. It was tastier than food, more refreshing than water, it gave him more life than air.
Ginny pulled back to say, “I can’t believe it took you a bloody hex to be honest with me.”
“I’ve never been good with words. Remember, I just kissed you after that Quidditch match. A whole year of pining for you and I could never quite get the words out.”
A smirk crossed her features as Ginny ran her fingers through Harry’s hair and said, “Well, then thank Merlin you opened the wrong box.”
Harry put his arms around her waist, pulling her close, “I’ll try to make sure that we never need the hex again to help us out.”
“You better,” she told him.
And then he kissed her again. She moaned against his lips as he let his hands roam, getting re-acquainted with her body, but also discovering the changes. A few curves and dips were more pronounced and Harry was happy enough to learn each nook and cranny all over again. Ginny was doing her own explorations, parting his robes to try and reach for his shoulders. Through the thin fabric of his summer shirt, her nails scraped against the skin of his back. Harry shuddered at the feeling and let Ginny pull him closer towards her, parting her legs to make space for him.
“Gin, are you sure?” Harry asked when she pulled away from him, he noticed that the the skirt of her dress was riding up, revealing swathes of skin that he was dying to touch. Harry couldn’t help but stare and maybe now, knowing that she wasn’t over him, she never had been, he was finally allowed to.
Ginny reached for his hand and tugged him closer until his knees were against her thighs and he let himself crawl in between her legs.
“Harry, I’m done waiting,” Ginny said, her eyes beseeching him. “Please.”
How could he deny her? How could he deny them both, when all he’d wanted for the last two years was to somehow find his way back to her? And now that they were here, together, it seemed so silly how he’d kept himself away, how he’d held himself back from kissing her, from telling her how he felt.
“We have wasted a lot of time,” he remarked.
As if to waste not even a single breath more, Harry kissed her again. Lying on the bed together, Harry nestled in between Ginny’s legs, pressing into each other was easier as they kissed. This time, Harry let his hands move with more purpose and sought her breasts. His hands cupped them through her summer dress and Ginny breathed heavily, arching deeper into his hold.
He felt her claw at his heavy Auror robes before she opened her eyes and pulled on his collar, breathing out, “Off,” with a fair bit of urgency.
Harry complied immediately, pushing himself off the bed and letting his robes drop off his shoulders. “Your shirt too,” Ginny insisted, so he pulled that off as quickly as he could.
Ginny’s eyes took him in. He knew he looked different. Of course, he’d recovered from the weight he’d lost during the war, but there were more than a few scars on his torso now. He wondered what she thought of them.
“Are they ugly?” he couldn’t help but ask. The hex was still very much active, after all.
Ginny pulled herself up on her knees on the edge of the bed and came to put her arms around his bare neck.
“Harry, if I haven’t made it clear, I find you extremely sexy. I did before when you were just a kid at school, and I find you even more sexy now that you’re a big, bad Auror that was sent to apprehend me.”
“I was sent to question you.”
“Hush,” she said, putting her finger against his lips. “Please don’t kill my fantasies.”
“Hmm, perhaps we should discuss more of your fantasies,” Harry murmured against Ginny’s lips as they embraced again, just now without his clothes in the way, “I mean, while we still have you under the influence of the hex.”
Ginny let her fingers trace delicious patterns on his chest as she whispered, “You don’t need the hex to get me to talk about my fantasies with you, Harry. Not when all of them involve you in a very active role.”
And to make her point, she pulled her dress up and away, leaving her only in her undergarments - a simple cotton bra and a mismatched pair of knickers. “I would have made more efforts if I’d known we’d end up here,” she shrugged apologetically. Harry reached out with his hands to pull her close and placed a very meaningful kiss against the slope of her breasts.
“You’re perfect.” And then Harry added thoughtfully, “Well, almost.” He reached out and undid the knot of hair on the top of her head, letting her red tresses tumble down her shoulders, gagging him in the process. This is how he liked her - simple, unkempt, completely real.
“Perfect.”
Ginny sighed happily.
After that, they were both tumbling back into bed in a desperate wrestle for touches and kisses. Hands explored, skin met skin, and tongues joined the tango. Ginny made the most arousing sounds that went straight to Harry’s groin and he fought with the urge to thrust into her heat and relieve the pressure. But when Ginny herself pushed her pelvis into his growing need, Harry could no longer hold himself back.
Harry’s self-control only resurfaced when he felt Ginny’s nimble fingers working to unbuckle his belt and take off his trousers. And while a huge portion of his brain was itching to have even lesser fabric between the two of them, he stopped her hands from going any further. Through her unfocused, lidded eyes, Ginny threw Harry a very confused look.
“You first,” Harry simply explained. Ginny didn’t seem to have caught on to what he had meant, because she tilted her head and looked at him, seeking a further explanation. “We established that you’ve seen my, what did you call it,” he sought the right words, “Ah yes, ‘spunk face’, and I still haven’t seen yours. I figured we should even out the score.”
Finally, Ginny’s face flushed with understanding.
“If we’re keeping score, I’ll have you know that you owe me twice then,” she added despite the flush.
Harry couldn’t help but huff, “That seems fair. Despite my laughable lack of experience, I shall endeavour to try and even the score.”
Ginny bit her lip, as if to hold herself back from saying something, but lost the battle and said, “I’m sorry, I definitely shouldn’t ask about this, but you said ‘laughable lack of experience’. Should I take that to mean that you didn’t reach this portion of the evening with your blind dates?”
Harry smiled. “My one blind date didn’t extend beyond a half-friendly, half-awkward goodbye hug.”
Ginny nodded, but the wrinkle between her eyebrows was still pronounced. This time though, she was clearly able to keep her thoughts to herself.
“Are you worried that I’ve been shagging around in the one year since the war ended?” Harry finally asked. Ginny closed her eyes in shame and nodded only an inch.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “I know that it shouldn’t matter to me. We weren’t together, so if you did, it wouldn’t be wrong at all. But I guess I can’t help but be curious…”
“Gin, the last person I kissed was you,” Harry assured her. “Actually, your Aunt Muriel may have gotten me on the lips a bit at Fred’s funeral, but that was it, I swear.”
Ginny chuckled.
“Thank Merlin, because even though I want to be all grown up and mature about this, I would have been insanely jealous if you had dated someone.” Ginny shrugged, the strap of her bra sliding off of one creamy shoulder. “I mean, you are the most eligible bachelor in the wizarding world. I bet I have loads of competition.”
Harry kissed her square on the lips and said, “No one can compete with you. No one even comes close.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
“So, er, back to the matter at hand,” Harry said and pointedly flexed his fingers. “It would be great if you could just, you know, point me in the right, er, direction?” Harry could feel warmth flood his cheeks. Meanwhile, Ginny smirked at him and confirmed, “I’ll show you what I like.”
And show him she did.
When Harry approached her with nervous, tingly fingers, she guided his hand to her knickers - Harry felt a surge of both pride and dizzying want to find out that they were damp. She led his hand past the hem and positioned it beneath the thin fabric so that he was pressed up right against her. Harry had imagined this particular scenario in his brain countless times, wondering what she would feel like, daydreaming about how he would touch her. Now that he was here, all the detailed plans seemed to have swiftly abandoned his brain.
Thankfully, his instincts were quick to kick in.
He began to gently caress the heat between Ginny’s legs and within a few seconds, he felt her thighs relax and make even more space for him. Harry was torn between wanting to keep his eyes on what he was doing, even if it was hidden behind her knickers, and looking at Ginny’s face as her hand retreated from Harry’s, trusting him to take over and making small sounds of approval that were setting his soul on fire.
With slow and deliberate movements, Harry explored her folds, finally gathering the courage to push his fingers inside - at first, only one, but after a rather loud exclamation of “Yes, like that” from Ginny, he added one more finger to the task.
The wet warmth that clung to his fingers coupled with the slow heaving of Ginny’s chest was driving him insane. The scene was so erotic that Harry was sure a few more minutes of this and he’d himself be very close to completion. He pushed his own arousal against her leg to relieve some pressure but kept the focus on the rhythm that he’d figured out that seemed to be getting the most enthusiastic response from her.
“I need you to…” Ginny breathed out, her voice ending in a small moan, unable to finish her thought. When Harry stopped the movement of his fingers to help her talk, she begged, “Don’t stop.”
He began moving again immediately.
“Show me,” he told her again.
Eyes still closed, Ginny’s hand came back to guide his thumb over to the small lump that sat between her folds. She showed him the slow circular movements she wanted from him and when he took over, never slowing down his fingers that were still pumping inside her, she whispered, “Fuck,” and retreated her hand back to grab a fistful of her own hair.
It took Harry a few seconds to perfect the rhythm again, but once he had, he could feel Ginny’s hips bucking up to meet his movements. He felt the urgency of her breath, the rising pitch in her voice, and knew that she was close.
Now, Harry was quite sure of what he wanted to see. However arousing it was to look at what his hand was doing to her, it was far more important for him to look at her face when she reached that peak of ecstasy. So he leaned forward, used his free hand to caress her peaked nipple through her thin cotton bra, and watched her fall apart - her red hair contrasting against the white of the pillow, her eyes fluttering rapidly, a lovely pink hue covering her features, her mouth open in a silent scream, and her chest rising and falling softly as her breath gradually returned to normal.
In all of his nineteen years of life, Harry couldn’t think of another memory that could possibly compare to the simplistic beauty of what he was witnessing now.
After waiting for the aftershocks to subside, Harry pulled his hand out of her knickers, his fingers glistening in the low light.
“Wow,” Ginny breathed out. “That was… wow,” she said again.
“For me too,” Harry told her, leaning closer to press a sweet kiss against her mouth.
Ginny sighed happily as Harry collapsed next to her, drawing her closer, and allowing her to snuggle into his arms. In the warmth of her embrace, Harry realised that while the war had ended over a year ago, his life had only just begun.
Under the influence of the hex, he told her this.
Ginny blushed and responded, “Well, considering that I’ve been waiting for you for about two years now, I can safely say that I feel the same way.”
Feeling quite guilty then, he tightened his grip on her and peppered little kisses against her forehead, “I’m sorry that I made you wait.” And then he kissed her on the mouth, lazily. “But I’m also very glad that you waited and that you didn’t give up on me. Sorry for believing that you had.”
Ginny put her small palm against his mouth to shut him up and said, “Let’s stop feeling awful about ourselves, yeah? Let’s be grateful for what we do have.”
“And what’s that?” Harry asked once she’d removed her hand.
“A hex that forces us to be in close proximity, and-.” She checked Harry’s watch, “A little more than an hour to kill still.”
She smirked saucily at him, making him burst into laughter.
When things began to heat up again and Ginny reached for the fly on his trousers, he held her hands again and reminded her, “I owe you another.” She began to protest, but Harry promptly shut her up by kissing her thoroughly and saying, “Besides, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you,” he let his eyes roam, “in other places.”
After that, Ginny was quite happy to lie back without protest. Harry took his time, first removing her bra, re-acquainting himself with her breasts, kissing them, tracing their peaks with his tongue, and softly sucking on them. Emboldened by the sweet words of encouragement that Ginny whispered to him, he let himself explore his way further down. When he was at eye level with her pelvis again, he pressed soft kisses against her thigh, slowly inching closer to her knickers. Pressing one lingering kiss against her heat through the fabric, he finally hooked his fingers into the purple cloth and pulled it away.
The next time Harry resurfaced was only after eliciting delicious screams from Ginny, the sweet and salty taste of her orgasm on his lips. Feeling ridiculously drunk on the taste of her, Harry let himself collapse next to her again, willing his painfully alert arousal to go away. While he loved the idea of letting themselves carry on like this for the rest of the night, he knew he still had a case to solve.
And now that they were together again, there’d be many nights like these. The thought made his heart swell.
“That was bloody hot,” Ginny breathed out.
“Thank you.”
“Look at you, you can’t hold back a smile, can you?” She was right. Harry’s jaw hurt from how much he was smiling. Or well, it hurt at least a bit from how much he was smiling. “You’re such a slick git, Potter.”
Harry pulled her close for a last kiss and said, “Only around you, Weasley.”
Despite vehement protests, Harry convinced Ginny to dress up and halt any further physical activities. At least for now.
“I’ll take you on a proper date as soon as I’ve nabbed Clutterbuck,” Harry promised Ginny as they made their way down to the shop. Ginny led him to the back door, from where the delivery guy generally stocked the latest ingredients into the room.
“Well, I have tryouts this weekend. But I’m free Sunday evening.”
“We have dinner at the Burrow on Sunday,” Harry pointed out.
Ginny shook her head.
“I know that you’re practically family but it’s much too early to be dating in front of my Mum. She will absolutely start hinting at a wedding within the first hour of finding out.”
Harry chuckled, “Whatever you want. But I will have you know that I’m done pretending that I’m not hopelessly in love with you.”
Ginny made a big show of plugging her ears. “Potter, you can’t be so bloody lovestruck that you’re already wanting to sing it off the rooftops.”
“Hmm, maybe not a song,” Harry pretended to think, “How about a singing Valentine? But I don’t know if I have your rhyming skills. His eyes are as green as a freshly pickled toad .”
Ginny punched him in the arm playfully, “Shut up, Harry.”
“So can I take you out after Sunday dinner?” Harry asked.
“Yes, you can.”
“Brilliant.”
After that, it was just a waiting game. At exactly fifteen past three in the morning, an inconspicuous-looking van pulled in outside the shop. Harry hid underneath his Invisibility Cloak, standing as close to Ginny as possible, careful not to trigger the hex. Harry gripped his wand tightly, ready to protect her if he needed to, but also to apprehend the man who stepped out of the van as soon as he witnessed how the smuggling was actually being done.
The man greeted Ginny in a bright tone.
“Miss Weasley, how’re you doing this fine morning?”
“I’d be much better if I got to sleep in instead of having to take a delivery, Mr Billings,” Ginny replied and chuckled softly.
Mr Billings smiled at her and handed her the list of items he was delivering to check.
“I always tell the boss to change the time, but you know how many deliveries I got to do per day. If I don’t get an early start, I’d be hauling potion ingredients till supper time.”
Mr Billings levitated several boxes from inside the van and placed them in front of Ginny to make sure that she checked each box against the list of ingredients on the receipt. Over her shoulder, Harry read the list in her hand and then mentally counted the boxes.
The count was off!
But Ginny seemed to not have noticed it. Harry looked at her with concern and noticed that her eyes were slightly unfocused as she stared at the receipt in her hand. There were fifteen boxes kept in front of her, but Harry saw her nod and sign her name on the receipt that said twelve boxes of ingredients.
Mr Billings nodded and began to levitate the boxes into the stock room. Once he was inside, Harry whispered to Ginny, “There’s fifteen boxes, Ginny. Did you only see twelve?”
Ginny’s eyes gained some focus after hearing his voice and she shook her head in confusion.
“No, there were twelve, I counted…” she trailed off, not looking too certain.
“I think there might be a powerful Confundus Charm on this receipt,” Harry said. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the fog seemed to lift from Ginny’s eyes and she blinked. “I can’t believe that I’ve been falling for a Confundus Charm all this time.”
“Trust me, a Confundus Charm can be quite a formidable weapon in the right hands. Whoever this Clutterbuck is must be quite an expert at this spell.”
“What do we do?”
“We let him leave, for now.”
Mr Billings trotted out right that instant, giving Harry only a few seconds to place a tracking spell on his van before he said his goodbyes to Ginny and drove away.
Once the van was out of sight, Harry pulled off his cloak and ushered Ginny inside. They stood over the newly delivered stack of boxes, counting them again. Harry used his wand to slowly fold and tuck the receipt into the pocket of his robes.
“I’m going to give this in for testing at the office,” he told Ginny when she cocked her head at him in question.
“And I should have someone from the office come in and take these boxes in for examination. I bet we’d find all sorts of banned ingredients if we were to look inside.” Right on cue, Ginny began to bend forward and stretch out her hand towards the box closest to her.
“No!” Harry screamed, pulling her back.
“They could be booby-trapped - protected by spells we have no idea how to counter.” Ginny looked sheepish and took a step back. Harry cast a quick shield spell to keep someone from accidentally touching these boxes. “I’ll ask someone to come pick these up for diagnostics.”
“How will you find out where they are running their operation from?”
“I put a tracking spell on Mr Billings’ van. It should tell me all the places he goes to in the next twenty-four hours. I can safely assume that he will drive back to wherever they are storing their ingredients.” Ginny stared at him a bit wide-eyed and asked, “You’re planning on following him to their headquarters alone?”
“Not alone, no,” he assured her and rubbed the back of his hand against her cheek. “I’ll take a team with me.” He gestured between them. “After we’re free from this hex, of course.”
“Er, we might be already, you know.”
“Could we?”
Ginny eyed the space between them.
“Well, we can’t really tell until we try moving away from each other, can we?”
“Right.”
Then, with a shared look of understanding, both Harry and Ginny began slowly stepping back and away from each other. They both reached what looked like six feet between them and hesitated. Harry gestured for her to stay still and took a few steps back very quickly, closing his eyes in the expectation of the violent tug he would feel when the hex inevitably pulled him back towards her.
But the tug never came.
Slowly, he opened his eyes.
Ginny was now well over six feet away.
“Well, I guess we’re free,” Harry said, unable to believe that he was finally free from the hex that had forced him to speak his mind, but really, if he reflected over the night he’d had, he wouldn’t have wished for any other result. “Would you believe it if I said that I’m a bit disappointed that I have nothing physically holding me close to you?”
Ginny giggled, something she didn’t do very often. She walked towards him and pulled him close, putting her hands around his waist.
“You don’t need a hex to be close to me.” She kissed him. “See? We can do whatever we want now.”
“I think it’ll take me some time to believe it.”
“Take your time,” Ginny said. Then narrowed her eyes at him, grabbed his collar and pulled him close to warn, “Just promise me that you’re not going to clam up again. Otherwise, I’ll come up with a special week-long Heartstrings Hex.”
Harry’s eyes widened at the threat.
“You know, I might not be so opposed to that,” Harry flashed her a cheeky grin. “As long as you promise to spend the week with me without any clothes on.”
“You wish, perv.”
But the kiss she gave him after made it very obvious that she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea.
“Well, I think I should be heading back into work and trying to help Neville catch a hold of Peter Hickinbottom,” Harry said, breaking away from the kiss. If they didn’t stop, Harry was very much in danger of being far too distracted to leave. And he wanted to tie all the loose ends of his case as soon as he could. “I have a feeling that once they sneaked in the illegal ingredients by Confunding you, Peter is the inside man selling them around Diagon Alley, since he has access to your stock room.”
“I can’t believe that the shop is being used as a smuggling hub,” Ginny remarked. “I will have to tell George everything when he’s back. I have a feeling that he’ll end up blaming himself for the mess.”
“Well, it’s not either of your faults.” And then he added, “But of course, vetting new vendors might be a good idea for the future.”
“I’ll let him know.”
After that, Harry made his way back to the Ministry. Fortunately, Neville had managed to find and apprehend Peter Hickinbottom and had brought him back to the Auror office for questioning already.
After about an hour of questioning in which Harry played good cop and Neville was surprisingly convincing as the bad cop, Peter confessed to all his crimes, sobbing about how he needed the extra money to afford the pain potions that his sickly mother needed to survive. Harry felt poorly for the guy, but of course, since he had committed a crime, there was nothing else to be done.
After Peter’s confession, it was very easy to piece together the whole case and create a list of suspects that were involved in the operation, with Mr Clive Clutterbuck at the heart of it all. Harry and Neville took a small team of Hit Wizards and Witches to check the locations that were signalled by Harry’s tracking spell. At the end of the day, they had brought in all the five people who were running the operation, including Clutterbuck himself.
“Well, that was quite a great job done on the case, Potter,” Mr Robards told Harry the next evening. “You look like you haven’t slept in more than a day. Why don’t you take the next two days off?”
“Thank you, sir. I think I will.”
And while going home and sleeping for the next ten hours sounded quite attractive, there was something else that Harry wanted to do even more. And that was to see Ginny.
So once again, he found himself on the threshold of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes close to closing time. He peeked his head into the shop and saw George helping out a few wizards with their latest range of sexy dreaming potions.
“Ah, Harry,” George called out when he saw him. He excused himself from the crowd and made his way over. Harry quickly scanned the room to see if he could spot Ginny’s red hair.
“Well, well, well, it seems that you and my sister had quite the adventure last night,” George commented. “I wish you’d told me what was going on. I could have helped.”
“Protocol,” Harry explained. “Since I only saw Ginny’s name on the receipts, it was important that I questioned her first, without you present.”
“Well, either way, I’m quite thankful that you made sure that the trouble was put to an end. The last thing we need is for the shop to be involved in illegal activities.” George seemed to have taken a serious tone that wasn’t quite common for him. “I should have paid more attention. Fred would have given me a swift beating if he knew I let it get this bad.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Harry told him. “But also, perhaps be around a bit more. And don’t let Ginny take all the vendor deliveries alone.”
“She shouldn’t be taking any, to be honest. Especially since this is just a temporary summer job for her. Who knows? She could be a Harpy this time next year!”
“Then I know who I’m rooting for in the next league.”
“Don’t let Ron hear you say that. I don’t think he will take that kind of betrayal lightly.” George patted him on the back and said, “And what brings you back here? Looking for Ginny, perhaps? She has been awfully quiet on the details of what you both did, apart from solving the case, of course.”
Harry felt himself grow warm in the cheeks. He definitely didn’t want to tell George anything without checking with Ginny first, but thankfully, she appeared right that second, looking very fresh in a new blue dress.
“Hi Harry, back already?” Ginny said, a teasing glint in her eyes.
“Yes, I think he’s become quite fond of the shop, hasn’t he?” George said, looking pointedly between Harry and Ginny.
“It was very much for official purposes, actually. I have to take Ginny into the Auror office, just so that she can give her testimony.”
George stopped smiling.
“Oh, that’s no fun at all. I thought you might have finally solved the mystery of my missing Heartstrings Hex.”
At the mention of the hex, Harry’s voice cracked and he fumbled with his words, “A, er, what now?”
“Don’t even try to deny it, Harry. I know when my prototypes get triggered.” And then he looked at Ginny, who was much more convincing than Harry at pretending that she knew nothing.
“We don’t know anything about a prototype,” Ginny calmly confirmed.
“Don’t be like that, sis. I need the intel to help finish the product. How bad could it be being stuck together for a few hours? Perhaps if you two told me how it was for you, I can finally fix the hex.”
“Fix the hex how?” Harry asked, unable to hold back his curiosity.
“Well, it doesn’t work, does it?”
“What do you mean, it doesn’t work? It worked on us alright.”
“AHA! So you did fall victim to my devious hex!”
“Yes, but I’m telling you, it worked!” Harry insisted. Now Ginny seemed interested in listening as well, having left the disguise of aloofness.
“Well, it does tether you to another person for a few hours, but it doesn’t do much else. I can’t figure out how to make the Veritaserum and Compelling Potion work together in a targeted way like that yet.” George pulled out his little notebook where he’d scribbled a few things. “Because when Angie and I tried it the other day, all it did was force us to be within six feet of each other. But both of us didn’t feel compelled to share any thoughts. I know this because I very clearly remember thinking about how I wanted her to swallow, but I didn’t say it.”
“Ew, George! What the fuck?” Ginny screamed. “Thanks for that image!”
“You need to hang out with more men, sister. Even our mother isn’t such a prude, you know.”
Harry tried hard to avert his eyes but they met with Ginny’s anyway and he could see that she was holding back a smile.
“Well, maybe I’ll find a hot Auror to ask out. Let’s go, Harry.”
“Would you both be interested in filling out an observation diary on the Heartstrings Hex?” George called out from behind them as Ginny dragged Harry away.
“Not bloody likely,” Ginny called back.
When they were out of the shop and quickly approaching the Apparition spot, Harry offered Ginny his arm.
“I can take you Side-Along.”
She took his arm.
Harry felt the familiar squeeze of Disapparition and a second later, they were standing in the doorway of Grimmauld Place. Ginny looked around, just a little bit confused. Harry couldn’t stop the smile that broke out on his face.
“Well, well, well, Mr Potter, I didn’t know you were capable of subterfuge like this,” Ginny said, putting her arms around his shoulders and stretching up on her toes to be closer to him.
“I just really wanted to see you, and I didn’t think George would understand why.”
“I’m impressed.”
They exchanged a kiss. After almost an entire day of work that had kept him away, the worry and fear that he had imagined their reconciliation finally faded away from Harry’s brain. This was real, they were real. And hopefully, he would do nothing to screw it all up again. Because he didn’t think he could live his life without Ginny in it.
When they broke apart, Ginny whispered, “Well, the hex didn’t work.”
Harry had been wondering about the same on their way out of the shop. And now that he thought about it, it was entirely possible that he might have simply shared his thoughts because he’d wanted to, and the hex had offered a convenient excuse. After all, he’d spent months being tired of keeping his feelings all to himself.
“I guess we just got tired of not saying things to each other.”
“Hmm,” Ginny agreed, touching his nose with hers. “Then I should maybe say this too. I love you, Harry Potter.”
Harry couldn’t help but smile. This was everything he’d wanted from his life. When he’d imagined the possibility of a future after all the misery, he’d never imagined it without Ginny. And suddenly, it felt like all his dreams were coming true.
“And I love you, Gin.”
“So what’s the plan now?” Ginny asked him.
“I haven’t slept in over thirty hours,” he said, and Ginny’s saucy smile disappeared and she nodded in concern for his health. “So obviously the plan is,” he held up his fingers to count, “first, orgasms; hopefully, both of us this time, and then sleep, and then more orgasms.”
Ginny’s shoulders began to shake with laughter.
“You clearly want to make up for lost time, Potter.”
“I have two days off from work, and I have just made sure that you no longer need to take any vendor deliveries, so I think making up for lost time is exactly what we should be doing.”
And with that, Harry was dragging her up the stairs towards his bedroom.
About an hour or so later, when both of them were slowly falling asleep, sated from mind-blowing mutual orgasms, Harry heard Ginny whisper, “Thank you, Heartstrings Hex.” He couldn’t agree more.