August 2000

The whole trouble started with that damned hut.

'Isn't it beautiful up here?' my fiancé asked as he released his grip around me.

Was it? I had no idea; I was still trying to get my stomach back under control before I ventured a glance at my surroundings. Side-Along-Apparition doesn't agree with me, and it wouldn't do to vomit all over my fiancé of one day. I cast a quick glance at the huge emerald ring on my left hand that rested on Harry's biceps, and a broad smile appeared on my lips. It had been his mother's ring; I'd almost teared up when he put it on my finger yesterday during my birthday party.

Not that I was dumb enough to cry in front of him; Harry detested crying women.

My rolling stomach gave it a rest. I took a tentative breath: it still kept quiet, thank Merlin.

I raised my head and took in my surroundings.

We stood on an agricultural road that cut through a steep slope. Far beyond us lay a valley, with a small village in the middle. Houses like toy blocks huddled around a church with a steeple of the size of a needle. A rather wild looking river meandered its way through the valley, with a road following its banks. The Muggle cars on that road were nothing more than scurrying ants.

The rest of the valley showed a patchwork blanket of fields. Where the fields ended, a dense larch wood began that ascended the mountains on both sides of the valley. Beyond the trees came alpine pastures, and then rough, naked rocks. Some of the highest peaks wore white caps.

Where, by Merlin's unmentionables, were we?

I had another glance around.

The agricultural road cut smack right through a pasture, dotted with an abundance of alpine summer flowers and herbs, and an equal amount of dried and fresh cowpats. A few cows grazed further down the slope. Each of them had a huge brass bell on a sturdy leather strap around its neck; the bells gave a metallic clank every time the cows moved. It was quiet up here; the only sound that could be heard was the constant clanking of cow bells, some close, some rather far away.

'Where are we?'

My fiancé chuckled. 'We're in the South Tyrolean alps. This pasture here is part of a farm that belongs to my father's family since the middle of the last century. There's a small hut up here where my father used to spend part of his holidays when he was a boy. He brought Mum here to propose, and they spent their honeymoon here. I was most likely conceived it that hut. Mum wrote about that in her diary. Isn't that fantastic?'

I suppressed a shudder. Fantastic? Yeah, if you had a fondness for being alone in the middle of a vast, quiet nowhere. As the youngest member of the boisterous Weasley clan I'd never experienced solitude and quietness, and frankly, the amount of both available up here creeped me out.

'Yeah,' I agreed to humour him. Did he notice how faint my voice sounded?

Harry gave me an exuberant squeeze. 'I knew you'd like it. Come on, let me show you the hut. You'll love it!' He took my hand and pulled me with him, down the steep slope to a tiny brown blob in the emerald pasture.

The hut, I supposed.

One look on his beaming face made me bite back the objections that were already at the tip of my tongue. Harry had known nothing about his parents until his eleventh birthday, and even after then the informations he'd gathered about them were disjointed and few and far between. That changed after the war.

After the Battle of Hogwarts the Goblins of Gringotts had summoned Harry to a meeting. Instead of the punishment for his break-in into their bank he had expected, they wanted to discuss the estate of his late parents and grandparents with him. It turned out that the estate was big enough to cover the damage of at least two dozen break-ins, and the Goblins, as happy as everybody else in the magical world that Harry had freed them of Voldemort, had agreed to settle their bill with Harry and give it a rest. As a result, he got access to all his family vaults.

The amount of gold now available to him surpassed the wealth of the Malfoys. Which was nice; I was a Weasley, and would most likely pop out at least half a dozen babies as soon as I was ready for that. It was good to know Harry could afford a big family, and I wouldn't have to suffer the same financial restrictions as my mother.

Harry, bless his soul, didn't squander one thought on that. All that mattered to him were the family heirlooms he could access, among them the diaries of his mother. They had become his most cherished possession, and he acquainted himself with the houses his ancestors had left to him to form the long missed connection to his roots. I'd gathered that much from reading between the lines of the short letters he wrote to me while I was still kicking my heels at Hogwarts. Harry still didn't like to talk about himself.

That tiny hut below us was a part of that ancestry. Because of the connection to Harry's parents it held a special place in his heart. I understood where he came from, but that didn't mean I liked it. Couldn't his parents have spent their honeymoon in one of the more comfortable houses? Merlin knew there were enough of them.

The brown blob didn't become much bigger as I stood in front of it. People would think it picturesque, I guess. Wooden flower boxes with flaming red geraniums adorned the tiny windows. There was a wooden bench which looked like the half of a log, with a long table in front, protected from a sudden rain by the overhanging roof. An open, wooden water channel led from a well hidden in the rocks to the right of the hut to a wooden trough made from a hollowed out tree log in front of it. The excess sipped over one end of the trough, and from there a small rivulet worked its way through the pasture below the hut until it joined the brook further down on the slope.

Harry pointed towards the trough. 'Our private supply of fresh water.'

I flinched. He was taking the mickey, wasn't he?

'Everything alright, Ginny?' He gave me a look from under furrowed eyebrows.

Merlin, he looked like a small boy who showed his best friends his toys and was disappointed he didn't get the delighted reaction he had hoped for. I forced a big smile on my face. 'Yeah, I'm fine. Something bit me.'

Harry gave another chuckle. 'Sorry, all the droppings the cows and goats leave behind are a never ending delight for a lot of sting-happy insects, I'm afraid. It'll get better in autumn, after the cattle has been driven down into the valley.'

Would it? I had no intention ever to find out.

He held the door of the hut open for me and gave me a disarming smile that made his emerald eyes sparkle. 'Do you know how long I've waited for the day I could bring you here? The last two years with you back at Hogwarts weren't easy, you know.'

My heart melted on the spot. He was right, the last two years had been difficult for us.

Harry and I had got back together the day after the Battle of Hogwarts. It was a time of loss and mourning; our love for each other was the only bright spot in a world of destruction, and together we somehow muddled through the first weeks after the war. A cold shower ran down my spine, and I bit my lips As a rule, I didn't allow myself to think of those times. Best keep the bad memories locked up and concentrate on what was still to come.

I pushed the memories of the battle and the many funerals away. Our summer after the war was magic, we spent every wake moment together and got to know each other. Harry would join the Aurors in September, and I had tryouts with several professional Quidditch clubs. By unspoken agreement we were planning on moving together in September.

Alas, the Ministry for Magic and my parents screwed up our plans. Ministerial Educational Decree Number 37b stated that students who'd been enrolled at Hogwarts during the last year of the war and wanted to continue their education there had to repeat that year. Even though I'd just come of age, my parents insisted I ought to get my N.E.W.T.s before I started my professional Quidditch career. How could I refuse their wish after all they'd been through?

So I went back to Hogwarts in September. Hermione and Ron came with me, which made things more bearable.

Harry, however, joined an accelerated training programme with the Auror Department. Over the next two years he pushed himself to finish his training in record time. I could count the number of times we saw each other in these years on the fingers of one hand. Time for writing letters was also scarce. I'd received maybe a dozen letters from him. I couldn't complain about that, I wasn't the most frequent writer, either.

However, he'd made up for that horrible time yesterday, when he proposed for me in front of our family and friends. My parents had been delighted, and so were my brothers, except for Ron, come to think of it. He and Hermione had exchanged a rather strange look -.

'What do you think?' Harry's voice cut into my memories.

We'd crossed the threshold into the tiny hut, and I had a look around.

It was worse than expected. There was a tiled oven, a wood-burning stove, and a shelf with a rather meagre collection of kitchen tools at the far wall of the hut. A wooden bench with a matching table and two chairs made up the rest of the interior. The red-patterned cushions on the chairs and the matching tablecloth and curtains on the tiny windows didn't make up for the primitiveness of the room.

Merlin, there wasn't even a decent upholstered chair here.

A steep ladder at the right side led up to a hatch in the ceiling. I pointed at the hatch with my thumb. 'What's up there?'

'Uh… the bedroom,' Harry said, and turned red.

I gave him a blinding smile. 'Won't you show me?'

We'd started sleeping with each other not even a week after the battle. The physical closeness gave us the comfort we both needed. However, in a house as crowded as the Burrow the necessary privacy for these interesting activities was scarce, and our schedules over the last two years had limited our options even further. I hardly remembered our last time together.

Harry sucked in a sharp breath. A broad grin appeared on his handsome face. 'As my lady wishes.'

He went ahead on the ladder, opened the hatch, and climbed through.

I followed him with a certain degree of dread in my stomach. Would the rest of the hut be as primitive as the ground floor?

Alas, it was.

The low bed under the tiny window took up most of the space. A wardrobe, with a pattern of naïve-painted roses on it, made up the rest of the furniture.

I looked around; there was no other door in the room. 'Uh, Harry, where's the bathroom?'

The dratted man chuckled and pointed with his finger towards another brown blob further down the slope. 'The privy is down there. You must heat water from the trough on the stove for washing up.'

My eyes became wide. 'No shower?' How was I supposed to keep my hair in its shiny, flawless condition without a proper shower?

Harry shook his head. 'Sorry, no. It's a little rough up here, I'm afraid.'

No kidding. I averted my face and bit my lips. How was I supposed to survive this weekend?

Warm breath touched the side my neck, followed by soft lips, and two arms wrapped around my waist.

'Don't you think we have more important things to discuss right now?'

A delicious heat spread in my stomach, and my knees became weak. He was right, of course. I turned around in his arms, slung my arms around his neck, and kissed him.

It didn't take much more to set both of us on fire.

Harry manoeuvred me towards the bed, his hands already roaming under my shirt. A wide, soft bed was all we needed that weekend, so who cared about the rest of the hut?

I sank down onto the mattress. It was lumpy and hard. Damn, could that cursed hut get any worse?

Harry's lips traced their way down my jaw and my throat, and his hands shoved up my shirt.

Merlin, it had been too long. His ministrations blew the disappointment about our uncomfortable accommodations right out of my head, and I concentrated on showing my fiancé I had missed him as much as he had missed me.

August to December 2000

I survived the weekend.

On Sunday evening, Harry locked the door of the hut with his wand, turned towards me, and took me in his arms. 'We had a fantastic weekend, don't you agree? What do you think of a repeat the weekend after next? I'm on duty next weekend, unfortunately.'

He was taking the mickey, was he? I raised my head.

His emerald eyes looked as eager and expectant as those of a little boy.

My heart dropped into the deepest pit of my stomach. How to get out of this without hurting him? 'Uh, we promised Hermione to help her move into her new flat, remember? And I really ought to spend some time with my family that weekend. After all, I'll be moving to the Harpies' dorms on their training ground after that, and I won't get leave until Christmas.'

The Holyhead Harpies had accepted me as a chaser for their reserve team, and training would start in the last week of August. I looked forward to it; it was another childhood dream coming true, beside marrying The-Boy-Who-Lived. On the downside, their management was rather strict. For the first year my time wouldn't be mine. I had to stay on the training ground most of the time; visits to family and friends had to be approved before and staying out overnight outside of the meagre ten days off I got during my first year was out of the question.

His shoulders sagged at my words, and the light disappeared from his gorgeous eyes.

My stomach gave an uncomfortable squirm. Merlin, I hated to disappoint him, and I wasn't looking forward to long, lonely weeks without him, not after our passionate weekend. However, it couldn't be helped, and at least it prevented me from having to return to that dratted hut.

I raised on my tiptoes and kissed him to convey my regret. He wrapped his arms around me and returned the kiss. Harry kissed like a god, and we both had broad smiles on our faces when we broke apart.

That were our last undisturbed moments together for a long time. Harry returned to his work on Monday. Something came up at the Auror Department during that week, as he told me in a short, scribbled note, and his next free weekend - my last weekend before training camp - was cancelled.

I was not happy about that.

Mum cried hot tears when I left the Burrow for my new quarters at the Harpies' dorm on the last Monday in August. No surprise there: the last duckling left the nest. Ron roomed with Harry on Grimmauld Place ever since he'd started Auror training one year ago.

My new life with the Harpies was crammed with training, physiotherapy, press conferences and promotional events, not to mention all the time I had to bond with my new teammates, and the additional lessons I had to take in preparation for the time when my career would be over and I had to look for a job. Every professional Quidditch player knew it took only one unlucky shot of a Bludger to get there. I hardly had time to read Harry's few letters, let alone answering them, though I missed him.

The Harpies' management policy encouraged boyfriends, fiances and husbands to join the team for the games and outings whenever possible, and I passed that invitation on to Harry. During my first year with the team it was about the only way for us to spend time together, albeit always in a big crowd.

'Is your boyfriend coming to today's game?' my fellow rookie teammate Aubrianna Davies asked when we walked out to the pitch to take our places on the bench for the second home game of the season at the beginning of November.

'Fiancé,' I said. My heart beat in my chest like a drum. Harry had been on duty for the first game of the season, but he'd promised to come today.

That got me a sceptical side glance. 'You never wear your engagement ring.'

'We're not allowed to wear jewellery during training or on the pitch,' I said.

She let out a short laugh. 'True; sorry, that escaped my mind.'

We'd reached the pitch and sat down on the bench. The Harpies' fans gave our team an exuberant and noisy reception. They focussed on the popular players, like Gwenog Jones, and they overlooked Aubrianna and me. Oh, I couldn't wait until it was my name they were singing.

I sat next to our physiotherapist, Taylor Atkinson. She scooted closer and leaned against me. 'They say Harry Potter is here today.' She had to shout over the noise of the game.

A jolt seemed to go through Aubrianna, and she startled upright. 'Where?'

Taylor pointed towards the box reserved for family and friends of team members. I glimpsed black hair above stylish glasses. When had he got himself new spectacles? The last time I'd seen him he'd worn the silver coloured round frames he'd got right after the battle.

'Wicked,' Aubrianna said. 'I didn't know he had connections to the Harpies. Who do you think invited him? The manager? I wonder if he's got a girlfriend.' Her eyes never let Harry out of their sight.

I didn't like her hungry expression one bit although I shouldn't be surprised by her speculations. Until now, Harry and I had kept our relationship private. Whenever we'd met during these last two years, it had been within the wards of the Burrow, or we'd ventured out into the Muggle world.

The game dragged on for hours. Neither Aubrianna nor I were brought on. No surprise there, we still were new on the team and had to learn a lot. It was already well after dinner time when Kelly Vanderburg, our star Seeker, caught the Snitch and ended the game 310:160 in favour of the Harpies.

We joined the boisterous celebrations of the team in the locker rooms. I have no idea how long it took for us to celebrate, and for the players to cool down and have their injuries treated, until everybody was changed and we left the locker room for the traditional dinner with our family members and friends who had watched the game, and the victory party.

I craned my neck to find Harry in the throng of family members and friends that had huddled together against the icy November rain in the entrance towards the locker rooms. You should think witches and wizards knew how to protect themselves against rain and cold.

It took me a couple of moments to grasp they weren't looking for shelter: they were harassing my poor fiancé.

Harry shot me a helpless glance over the heads of the wizards and witches who crowded around him to shake his hand or ask for an autograph. My teammates added to the hubbub.

'It's Harry Potter!' Gwenog screamed. As one, the idiotic women swooped down on the crowd around Harry and tried to push their way through to him. All of them fit, young athletes, they made quick progress.

They pushed me aside like a tidal wave and I hardly kept myself from falling.

Harry's eyes widened until the white showed, and he gaped at the onslaught of two dozen women: players, trainer and co-trainer, the whole physiotherapist team and our manager and her assistant.

He gave me an almost desperate look, turned on the spot, and Apparated away.

That was his first and last attempt to meet with me after the games. I didn't blame him for his decision to stay away although I was disappointed and furious at my teammates.

Oh well, at least we were going to spend Christmas together.

About a week before Christmas I received another of Harry's short letters.

Kingsley ordered me to attend to the Ministry's New Year Ball this year. I've skived off last year and the year before, but that is not an option this time. Do you want to come with me? It will be much more fun with you by my side, he wrote.

I let out a little squeal. The Ministry New Year Ball was the social event of the year in the wizarding world. Only those at the top of our society got invitations. Dad had been invited, of course, since he was the head of a department, albeit a small one. However, he and mum had always declined and preferred to stay at the Burrow.

Harry and me attending the ball together would be our first official appearance as an engaged couple. Merlin, I needed a ball gown, and somehow I needed to find the time to do something with my hair. Maybe Hermione would help with that -.

'Good news?' Aubrianna's voice interrupted my frantic thoughts.

I shot her a broad smile. 'The best. My fiancé got an invitation to the Ministry New Year Ball and asked me to come with him.'

Aubrianna let out a whistle. 'Wow!'

'Yeah.' My smile was so broad my face hurt.

'Sorry to spoil your fun, but you'd better turn him down, Weasley,' our trainer's voice said from behind me. She put a hand each on Aubrianna's and my shoulder. 'We're scheduled for a couple of friendly games with teams of the Australian league. You're both part of the selection, and you'll have a starting position. Our International Portkey is due on the twentieth, and we won't be returning before mid-January.'

My heart skipped a beat, then thumped against my ribcage like a hammer. I'd made it to a starting position! Well, it was a friendly game, so it didn't count for the British league, but it was a start, and with a little luck I would make a few goals and begin to forge a name for myself.

Aubrianna and I looked at each other, eyes wide, screamed, and hugged.

The trainer regarded us with an indulgent eye and waited until we calmed down. 'Come with me, I'll give you the details,' she said.

We followed her into her office and spent the next hour going over the details of our trip to Australia.

Harry and the ball not once entered my mind.

I had special chaser training after that, followed by training with the team, and a meeting about game strategics. My day ended with dinner with the team, and a gathering in the common room.

I didn't think of Harry and the ball again before I lay in my bed. What a shame I couldn't make it to the ball, I would've loved to dance the night away with Harry. We hadn't seen each other since August. However, this was important for my career; Harry would understand I couldn't pass that chance. After all, he was as crazy about Quidditch as I was.

December 2000 to January 2001

Harry understood. He's such a dear.

This is a chance you can't let slip through your fingers. You'll be awesome and knock their socks off! XXX

I smiled as I stuffed his letter into the pocket of my training robes. Was there ever such a supportive fiancé like Harry? Though, it was a shame about the ball; I would've loved to appear at the Ministry on his arm. Hah, that would've showed all those snooty girls who'd made fun of me at Hogwarts, like Romilda Vane and the Slytherin bitches. Poor Harry, he'd spend the night like we did last year: at the Burrow with mum and dad, listening to a Celestina Warbeck special on the wireless.

On the twentieth of December I took the International Portkey to Down Under with my teammates. The tournament was a blast. We won each game, and I made it leading goal scorer. And my, the after-game-parties the Aussies threw!

There was only one fly in my ointment: Harry wasn't here to celebrate my success with me.

Despite a big dose of George's Helluva Hangover Potion a rather bleary-eyed me joined my team for breakfast on the first Sunday of January. Last night's victory party had got out of hand. I had a vague recollection of dancing on a table, together with Aubrianna and Kelly, a bottle of Firewhisky in my hand, until Taylor came and ushered us to bed.

I gave a good morning in the general direction of the team, got a few murmured greetings in reply, sunk down in a chair next to Taylor, and poured myself a strong, black coffee.

Taylor looked up from her breakfast and gave me an amused side glance although she was smart enough not to comment.

Which suited me fine; I hate sermons at the breakfast table.

The trainer appeared from the lobby, a stack of newspapersin her hand. 'The Daily Prophet from last Monday, just delivered from London to Oz by express-owl. Anyone interested in the latest gossip about the Ministry New Year's Ball?'

Most of my team members, as banged up by last night's festivities as I, declined. Taylor, however, took a newspaper from the trainer. She leaned back in her chair and unfolded it.

The next moment she gasped. 'I can't believe it; Harry Potter's got a girlfriend.'

All heads around the table shot up, mine included. How had the Prophet found out about Harry and me?

Taylor put the newspaper on the table and pointed at the big picture on the front page. 'Look at this!'

The front page of Monday's Prophet showed a huge photo of Harry in immaculate black dress robes with a white shirt, waistcoat and tie below. On his arm was a blonde beauty in a gorgeous powder blue ball gown. They both had broad smiles on their faces and each held a golden medal out to the photographer, then looked at each other, and their smiles became even broader.

A huge fist hid me midriff, and the blood in my veins seemed to freeze on the spot. My stomach, still upset from too much Firewhisky, gave a hard lurch. Bile rose in my throat, and I clenched my teeth together not to throw up across the breakfast table.

What was that all about? Who was that woman? What did she mean to Harry? Merlin, the way they'd looked at each other - as if they shared a secret, like partners in crime.

Partners in cheating on me?

I raised a fist to my mouth and bit into the knuckles of my hand to suppress the tears that welled up in my eyes.

The pain somewhat brought me back to my senses. My teammates had gathered around Taylor like the chicken in my parent's backyard at the feed and clucked about the photo. At least that took the attention off me.

'Is this his girlfriend?' Kelly asked. 'Who is it?'

That was a valid question. The girl looked somewhat familiar. Had she been at Hogwarts with us? She'd not been a member of the D.A. then, I was friends with most.

Taylor scanned the article below the photo. 'It's Daphne Greengrass.'

That elicited a round of loud exclamations and whistles from my teammates.

'A Greengrass? I had no idea the Chosen One is into society girls,' Aubrianna shouted over the hubbub.

"He isn't," was at the tip of my tongue. I clamped my mouth shut and fought another wave of nausea. The Harry I knew didn't give a fig about social standing. However, who was gentleman pod-Harry who seemed to have replaced my loving fiancé in that photo? My Harry never would've associated with a snake -

'Hold your Hippogriffs, girls,' Taylor said and looked up from the article. 'That Greengrass chick isn't his girlfriend. Seems Skeeter asked them that. They both claimed they came to the ball together as coworkers since their better halves both are out of the country and they had to appear because they were awarded a medal for special services to the Ministry.'

My stomach gave another lurch; this time a relieved one. So, Greengrass was taken and had no designs on Harry. 'What services?' I asked.

Taylor skimmed the article once again. 'Something about improvements for the Auror department. Magical forensics, whatever that is. Seems Potter had the idea, and Greengrass is the Unspeakable who developed it together with him. Oh, and Potter was promoted to Senior Auror. The youngest ever.'

I took a deep breath and raised my chin, a huge smile on my face. This sounded like my Harry. Why didn't he tell me about his achievements? He was so ridiculously modest. Or had he wanted to surprise me? It was like him not to mention anything when I told him about the planned tour to Australia not to get in my way. I lowered my head to hide my expression from my teammates.

I was already planning a special celebration for him in my head. There was no doubt Harry would like every bit about it.

January 2001

The team and I returned to England mid-January. For the first time since August, I got a day off. Well, not a whole day. I had just time enough for a quick visit with my loved ones before I had to return to the dorms.

'Don't forget to be back by curfew,' the trainer called after me as I walked to the Apparition Point at the International Portkey Terminal.

I raised my hand to show her I'd heard her, determined not to waste a single second of my precious time off with last-minute admonitions. I swear, our trainer was worse than mum.

At the thought of my mother I had a pang of bad conscious. I hadn't been home for over three months, and she missed me, her letters had made that clear. Of course I missed her too, but there was someone I missed even more. I concentrated, turned on the spot, and appeared in the unkempt shrubbery of the garden of Grimmauld Place.

The houses around the square were as grey and shabby as ever, the windows closed against the wet cold, so no noise spilled out and the place was as quiet as I've ever heard it. I concentrated on the joining between house number eleven and number thirteen, and number twelve shimmered into place.

From the outside it looked as shabby and forbidding as the rest of the place. I crossed the place with long strides, pulled my wand out of the pocket of my robes and tapped the tip against the familiar black door of number twelve. It could have used a new coat of paint, and so could have the windows that were visible from where I stood.

The door creaked open; Kreacher's ugly face stared up at me. It became even darker when he recognised me, and a sneer passed over his wrinkled features.

'Good afternoon, Kreacher. Is Harry at home?'

The ancient elf made no move to let me into the house. 'Master Harry still bes at the Ministry.'

I glanced at my wristwatch and frowned. It was a quarter past five, so Harry should be home by now. It took only a few seconds to get from the Ministry to Grimmauld Place by Floo or Apparition.

'What about my brother?'

'Mister Ron bes in the kitchen.'

I drew a deep breath to calm myself. Kreacher had changed his attitude towards Harry, Ron and Hermione sometime during the war, and was polite to any other visitors. For a reason I didn't understand he still hated me, and would treat me like scum whenever Harry wasn't around and ordered him to treat me decent.

'May I come in and visit with my brother then?'

Kreacher hesitated, but opened the door just wide enough for me to slip through. 'If Miss Weezy wish,' he said, and cast me a look calculated to make my blood freeze in my veins.

Damned elf!

I slipped into the house. Inside, it had changed a lot from the gloomy place I had learned to hate when we hid here the summer after Voldemort's return. Harry had removed the portrait of Mrs Black, the troll umbrella stand, and the elve's heads on the once dark wall. Instead he had painted the entrance hall and the stairs in a creamy off-white, and a dark green carpet covered the floor. An additional rooflight provided daylight.

I shrugged out of my winter cloak and put it on one of the gleaming brass pegs of the modern wardrobe.

Kreacher didn't make a move to help me. He closed the door, gave me another glare full of hate, and Apparated away with a resounding crack.

I shrugged my shoulders and walked down to the kitchen in search of my older brother. I found him at the long kitchen table, gobbling down a delicious smelling stew from the bowl in front of him. Some things never change.

At the sound of the opening door he looked up, and his face lit up as he saw me. He dropped his spoon into the bowl, not caring that blobs of stew splashed on the flat of the table, jumped up and rushed towards me to give me a bear hug that rivalled mum's finest.

'Ginny! What brings you here?'

'I wanted to see my fiancé. Kreacher told me he isn't back from work yet, so I thought I'd wait for him and have a chat with my brother. Which was a bad idea; you're suffocating me, Ron.'

'Sorry.' He laughed and let go of me, rather red in the face. He ran a hand through his hair. 'I have no idea when Harry will be back. He said something about a series of tests he and Greengrass are running and disappeared towards the Department of Mysteries after his shift. Considering how these two can get caught up in their work -.' He broke off.

My stomach hardened, and heat shot into my face. Greengrass again! I bit my lips and forced myself not to show how hurt I was. 'I read about the medal Harry got for the improvements he made, together with her. I would've thought there's no need for continuing their cooperation anymore.'

Ron turned toward the cold cupboard, opened it, took out two bottles of butterbeer, and opened them with a lazy flick of his wand, his back turned to me. 'Well, that was just the beginning. Harry has big plans for modernising the methods of investigation at the Auror Department, or visions, rather. Greengrass is just the right woman to help him make his visions come true.' He turned around, handed one bottle to me and took a swig from his own bottle.

I clenched my teeth until my jaw hurt. A green-eyed, scaly monster raised its ugly head in my chest and growled. I'd had no idea it lived there, and I didn't like it one bit. If I couldn't trust Harry, who could I trust then?

I forced myself to relax and took a sip of butterbeer to clear my throat.

'Is there a way to let Harry know I'm here? I'd hate to miss him; we haven't seen each other in ages.'

My brother gave me a look full of sympathy. 'This can't be easy for your guys. Harry isn't one for talking, but I know he misses you like crazy.' He put his bottle on the table and walked towards the fireplace. 'I'll see what I can do.'

Warmth spread in my chest. Harry missed me!

Ron threw a pinch of Floo Powder into the flames, knelt down as they flared up green, and stuck his head into the fireplace.

I waited with bated breath.

A few moments later he pulled his head back, a huge grin on his face. Instead, Harry's beaming face appeared in the flames.

'Ginny? I can't believe it! Had I known… Hold on a sec, will you?' He turned his head and said something I couldn't understand. The response was loud and clear through the open Floo connection.

'Get your scrawny arse out of here and kiss your fiancée, Potter. Merlin knows you've been moping around enough to drive me up the walls,' a warm female voice said, a trace of laughter in it.

'I hate to let you deal with the test series of your own.' That was Harry's voice.

'Do I have to remind you who's the professional here, Potter? I've taught you everything you know, so I should be insulted about you implying I can't handle the tests on my own. I said, out with you, and don't do anything I wouldn't do.'

'This leaves me with all kinds of possibilities.' Harry laughed. 'Thanks, Greengrass, you're a real friend.'

The back of his head disappeared, and the next moment Harry tumbled out of the Floo and ended sprawled on the floor at my feet.

Ron snorted into his butterbeer. 'I know you adore my sister, mate, but do you have to be so obvious about it?'

Harry's hand reached for his spectacles and adjusted them on his nose, while his eyes shot emerald daggers at my brother as he tried to sort his limbs.

Not at all impressed, Ron drained his bottle of butterbeer and pushed himself from the kitchen counter he was leaning on. 'I'd better leave and give you some privacy. I don't want to lose my dinner.' He turned around and left the room, with a small wave of his hand at us.

'What a joker,' I said.

'Yeah.' The next moment Harry was back on his feet and swept me in his arms. His mouth descended on mine, and all other thoughts than being back with him went straight out of my head.

We soon moved to Harry's bedroom for a long and passionate celebration of our reunion. Harry even knew the exact number of days we hadn't seen each other.

'One-hundred-fifty-five,' he said and pulled me into another sweet kiss. 'That's far too long for my liking.'

'I hear you.' I adjusted myself on his chest. 'We somehow must make it until the end of the first year of my contract. Everything will be easier after that since I'll have more freedom. I'll get my days off at the end of August. Maybe we can slip away for some quality time together?'

He tightened his arms around me. 'Sounds lovely. We could go to the hut. Nobody would disturb us there.'

My stomach dropped. Not the damned hut again! At least Harry didn't see my expression.

'Uh - I was thinking about something warmer than the mountains. I'd love to have a swim in the mornings.'

A low laugh rumbled through Harry's chest. 'As my lady wishes. I want our short time together being perfect. My grandparents left me a house in the south of France. What do you think of spending our holidays there?'

I threw my arms around his neck and peppered his face with kisses. 'That's wonderful, love.'

Harry replied in kind, and within seconds we forgot everything around us. I doubt we would've left the bedroom that day, hadn't my stomach given an audible growl.

My fiancé cast me an amused side glance. 'You can't deny you're a Weasley, love. Come on, let's get you fed.' He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and looked for his boxers.

I followed with some reluctance, not yet ready for our special time to end, and not at all looking forward to dinner under Kreacher's hateful eyes. If the elf could get away with it, he'd probably put poison in my food.

Harry, bless his sweet soul, somehow sensed my unease, and he took me to a small Italian restaurant near Grimmauld place. It was a picturesque place, with red and white checkered tablecloths, candles in wickerbottles, and braided strings of garlic bulbs everywhere.

'I like it here,' I said.

'I'm glad.' Harry took my hand and played with my fingers. 'I come here whenever I need a time out from Kreacher's fussing. As much as he has changed, he still hasn't warmed up to you, and I didn't want him to listen into our conversation.'

'How thoughtful of you.' I blew him a small kiss across the table. 'Anything important you want to discuss?'

'No, just catching up, I guess. Tell me, how was Australia?'

A huge grin spread across my face, and over our dinner I told him each detail of our games. Harry never took his eyes from my face, a soft smile on his lips, as he listened to me prattle on and on. We both started at a soft, buzzing noise coming from his right wrist.

Harry glanced at his wristwatch. 'Time to get Cinderella back to the dorms,' he said. 'I don't want you to get in trouble for missing curfew.'

I frowned, my eyes still on his wrist. 'Where's that sound coming from?'

'I set a timer on my wand so you won't miss curfew,' Harry said in a low voice, mindful of the surrounding Muggles.

'Yeah, I get that. But where's your wand?'

'It's in an invisible wand holster on my wrist.'

'Wicked.' I would've liked to hear more about that, but Harry signalled the waiter for the bill. A few minutes later, he led me to the shrubbery of the garden Grimmauld Place so I could Apparate to the Harpies' dorms without being seen.

It was already late; I had only a few minutes to spare, so we shared a last kiss, and I left.

That night in my bed at the dorms I replayed the happy hours with Harry in my mind. He had been so sweet and caring. Back then, it didn't occur to me we'd only talked about me, and he hadn't told me one thing that was going on in his life. Neither had I thought of asking him.

t.b.c