A brand new story for y'all. A little background: a magical AU. Harry never went to Hogwarts so he doesn't know any of the Weasley' and gryffindormischief have been awesome working with me on this fic!

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"Potter!" Jamison's deep Irish accent echoed through the room. Harry stood up to look over his cubicle. His detective chief was standing in the doorway to his office, his eternal grimace in place.

"Yes, sir?" Harry pushed in his chair, knowing full well he was not coming back to his desk anytime soon. When Jamieson had that tone, it meant Harry was gonna be gone for a while.

The look on Jamieson's face suggested Harry's premonition was correct before entering the room. Excitement and nerves started jumbling in Harry's gut. After months of desk duty, Harry was ready to get back out there.

Desk duty hadn't been his idea, but after the way his last case had ended, his boss had taken him away from active duty. It was fair, and the logical part of Harry agreed with his boss's decision but that didn't make it any easier to be stuck doing paperwork.

Jamieson was already sitting behind his desk when Harry entered the office. He didn't look up from his work as he gestured at the chairs in front of the desk. "Potter, take a seat."

Harry did as he was told, remaining silent. Jamieson preferred questions at the end of his briefings, and Harry was not going to chance being removed from the case due to speaking before being called upon. It only took a moment for Jamieson to finish his paragraph. He put his quill aside on the desk before lacing his fingers together, creating a bridge to rest his chin on.

"You ready to go back into the field?" That was Jamieson for you, direct as a well-cast stunner. Jamieson just needed to know the basics. Are you fit and able? Good, then it's time to get back to work.

When Harry nodded, Jamieson studied him for a moment before he echoed Harry's nod. "Aye." He pulled a folder from underneath a pile of parchment. He handed Harry the file. "In there is the description of the individual who you'll be protecting."

"Protecting?" Harry asked as he flipped open the manilla envelope. The front page held a basic profile. Ginny Weasley. Chaser for Ballycastle Bats. Threatened via numerous letters and notes left in her locker.

"Yes, I'm going to be sending you in to remain near Weasley. I want this to be a covert operation, in hopes of catching the perpetrator. If they have been leaving the notes in Weasley's locker they have access to the changing room—"

"Which means a player, staff, or security guard for the stadium may be involved." Harry finished as he continued to read through the notes. "These are rather - tame, all things considered."."

Harry looked up in time to see Jamieson nod. "We have seen much worse, but if you noticed, there is a definite obsessional undertone. Mentions of knowing where her home is and where she shops. If I had to guess, I'd say we've got a stalker of some sort."

"No doubt about that," Harry agreed, re-reading the line about how easy it would be to fly up to her fifth-floor flat. "So we're getting involved because of the insinuation that one of her staff may be entangled in all this?"

Jamieson's lips twitched in the closest thing he had to a smile. "I knew I hired you for a reason. Yes, that is the main reason, but I also happen to be mates with her brother Bill. We were in the same house and year at Hogwarts." His brow quirked. "You didn't go to Hogwarts, right?"

Harry nodded absentmindedly, his focus back on the letters in hope of finding any indicating phrases. "My Godfathers homeschooled me."

"That's right. Well, Bill asked me to check into this as a favor, and I can't say no to the man who just named me the godfather of his next daughter."

The obvious fondness in Jamieson's voice surprised Harry. He'd never imagined his captain as the touchy-feely type, but it was obvious his affection for his friend and his family was great. Harry wisely chose to keep his observations to himself, figuring his tough as nails boss wouldn't appreciate the callout. He flipped through the pages of Ballycastle staff. "Fair enough. Do any of the suspects stand out more than the rest?"

"Ah, well, we don't have much information on the actual situation."

Harry stopped mid-flip. When he looked up at Jamieson he noticed a pink tinge around his ears. "What does that mean?"

Jamieson took a deep breath, his chest rising. "The only intel is public knowledge, or what Bill has provided."

"Wait." Harry couldn't quite contain his surprise. "Are you telling me we're going in blind?"

"Not blind, per se." Jamieson scowled as he rubbed the back of his red neck. "I mentioned you'll be undercover, yeah?"

"You said covert."

Jamieson raised his hand. "Exactly. You were almost signed by a professional quidditch team, if I'm not mistaken."

Harry nodded slowly. He had gone to the league tryouts a few years back, but decided to decline the offers, instead taking the advice of a trusted friend and enlisting in the Auror academy. "I played seeker."

"And that is exactly the position that has opened up for Ballycastle." Jamieson gestured to the folder still on Harry's lap. "Their current seeker, Malcolm Kalvin, was seriously injured two days after their reserve seeker Philip Henson quit."

It only took Harry a moment to read the notes on both of the Bats' seekers. "Henson left to go be with his family in America and Kalvin has periodic memory loss."

"That's right. Which means they are having an emergency trial on Friday." Jamieson scratched the stubble along his jaw. "When was the last time you flew, Potter?"

"Uh - I'd guess maybe last week, maybe the week before."

"Well, the rest of this week you'll be doing nothing but flying."

Harry's mind needed a moment to comprehend everything his boss was telling him. "So I have two days to be at a professional level?"

Jamieson waved off his concern. "We'll get you into tip-top shape. Bill knows Oliver Wood from Puddlemere and he's agreed to come work with you."

"Sir—" Harry wanted to object that even with one of England's best keepers there was no way he was going to be selected for the squad, but Jamieson interrupted him.

"Potter, I know you, and when you set your mind to something… you don't stop until the end. It's one of the reasons you're my best detective."

Harry was stunned into silence. Never before had his chief given him such a compliment. "Thank you, sir."

Jamieson waved him off again. "Now, let's discuss Miss Weasley. You read her profile?"

Nodding, Harry flipped back to the starting page.

"Good. Now, she will be unaware of your mission. Same with the rest of the team. I need you to stay close to her. Befriend her. I want it to be inconspicuous that you'll be around her often."

Harry nodded. It couldn't be too hard to find a topic to bond over with a professional quidditch player. "Who is my contact?"

"Bill Weasley. It will be easy for him to around Miss Weasley so you'll report any important findings to him. He has been staying around his sister's flat at night, so really we just need a day shift."

"Okay."

Jamieson laced his fingers in order to rest his chin again. "Any question right now?"

Harry thought about it. He knew his purpose, target, contact… "When you say undercover, what's my backstory?"

"Ah, that's the easiest part. You'll be Harry Potter, who changed his mind and decided to re-tryout as a professional seeker. You can craft any tales you want to tell people, but I'd advise keeping it close to the truth."

"Easy enough." Harry took a deep breath. "Then I have nothing else for now."

"Good." Jamieson stood from his chair, offering out his hand. "Thank you, Potter."

Harry grasped his boss' calloused hand. "I'm happy to help."

"I knew I picked the right man." Jamieson released his finger. "Now, dismissed. Wood should be here within the hour and you need to give your remaining paperwork to Finnigan."

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Harry clutched the handle of his Firebolt as if he was afraid the broom would fly away without him. He'd forgotten how intense tryouts were, and he was saying that as a member of one of Ireland's most elite auror squads. And it wasn't even over yet! He'd made it through the first three cuts, which had left only himself and one other bloke, and now they were going to have a one on one seeker battle.

His fingers felt numb as he forced himself to loosen his grip. It wouldn't do him any good to let the snitch slip out of his fingers because he'd lost feeling in them.

"That was an impressive feint earlier," a voice spoke behind him. Harry turned and was face to face with the most gorgeous smile he'd ever seen. Add that to an adorably freckled nose and hypnotic brown eyes, and Harry's mind went completely blank. He was certain that if breathing it wasn't integrated into his hardwiring, he might have stopped.

The woman, or goddess, pointed up into the sky. "I saw you feint past McNabb when he was coming for you. Most can't get past him."

Harry discreetly used his free hand to pinch his leg, hoping the pain would jolt his mind back into making coherent sentences. "Uh - Thank you."

Her smile became sympathetic. "Nervous about the one-on-one?"

"Y - Yeah." Harry was happy to have any reason other than the truth for his incompetence. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm not sure how I'll match up against the titan over there." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the bulky man stretching before his flight.

"Oh, I'd say you have it in the bag," said the red-head, waving off his concern. "And if he gets too close…" A wicked smirk curled on her lips. "Just ask him to spell his name, and you'll have a twenty-second head start."

"Is his name that difficult?"

"If you think Jack Smith is a challenge, then yes."

Harry snorted. "That does sound very complex, but hasn't he been spelling it his whole life?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "You'd think so, but after watching him struggle to write it on the sign-in sheet this morning…" She shrugged again. "Anyways, your name is Potter, right?"

"And I know how to spell it." Harry wanted to pat himself on the back when his joke made her laugh. Instead, he held out his hand. "Harry."

Her grip was strong in his. "I'm Ginny."

"Ginny, as in Ginny Weasley?" Harry blurted before he could stop himself.

She laughed. "Glad to see my reputation precedes me."

Harry couldn't get his mind to wrap around it all. This was Ginny Weasley, his charge. She didn't seem like the kind of person you'd want to threaten. Ginny was too nice and funny for the kind of shit to happen to her. Then again, he might just be biased because she was the most attractive woman to ever talk to him…

"Harry?" Ginny waved a hand in front of his eyes. "Did you get lost there?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry." Harry forced himself into his work mindset. A little warning in the file would have been nice. Why Bill didn't include a photo of her… he could have prepared himself! No! Harry couldn't allow himself to admire her beauty, no matter how attractive her smile was. She was his ward and nothing could happen between them. The sooner he got that through his head, the better. "It's just a lot to take in."

"Oh yeah! Ballycastle stadium is quite a sight." Ginny looked across the perfectly cut grass, her smile serene. "It's one of the many reasons I choose the Bats."

"What are some of the others?" Harry praised himself for his casualness. This was what he needed to do, these were his orders:To become her friend. And that was done not by fawning over her, but by keeping things smooth and easy. Having simple, friendly conversations.

"Ireland's lush green fields." Ginny didn't miss a beat as she started ticking off fingers. "Not being the only red-head for twenty kilometers, and don't get me started on my passion for a good Irish ditty."

"I'm guessing that means you know some good places to relax with a pint and music?"

"You could say that." Ginny leaned in closer, and Harry was floored by a scent so intoxicating words were lost on him again. It was like she'd combined the sweetest-smelling flowers in the world and added something indistant… so indistinct he couldn't describe it in words. "How about this; after you've signed your life away to the Bats, I'll take you out for a pint or two. The first shout on me."

"Th -/" Harry cleared his throat. "That would be amazing. But wh - what if I don't get signed?"

Ginny's hand came up to pat his shoulder as her lips twisted into a doubtful smile. "Then Coach Nessa really does hate the team, because why else would he want to the torture the team with that brainless brute?"

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"One Kilkenny Ale for you, and one Harp Lager for me." Ginny set the glasses down on the table. Harry took his drink with a quick thanks. He was still in a shocked state. Signing to a professional quidditch team would do that to you. No matter what Ginny had said before the one-on-one flight, Harry really hadn't expected to win. But Ginny had been right. Harry had flown circles around the larger man.

Ginny raised her glass. "Welcome to the team." Harry followed her lead, taking a large gulp. Ginny put her drink back onto the table. "So, I'd say it's about time I get to know my newest teammate." She placed her elbow beside her glass and rested her head on her hand. "What do I need to know about you, Potter?"

Harry hated how - for lack of a better term - turned-on he was from just the look she was giving him. It wasn't necessarily flirtatious, but rather intense, and made him feel as if the rest of the world didn't exist.

He took another quick sip of his pint before answering. "Uh - not much, really."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I doubt that. A guy like you -" Ashiver ran down his spine… that damn look!— "has something interesting about him. Maybe like where you learned to play like that? I know it wasn't Hogwarts, because I'd remember you."

Part of Harry, the part that was a glutton for pain, wanted there to be more to her words. He wanted her to admit he hadn't gone to Hogwarts because she found him too attractive to forget. There was also the desire for her cheeks to darken with a pretty flush because she was nervous, and not just appear darker in the flickering of the faint pub light.

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "We —I guess I —learned from my godfather, Sirius."

"With a name like that, I'd guess he had a serious side." Ginny laughed at her own joke, which was too endearing.

"Hardly. The man can't stop himself from making a joke. Being raised by him was an interesting experience, to say the least."

Ginny lifted her head off her hand and tilted it slightly to the side. "You were raised by your godfather?"

"Yeah." His hand unconsciously came to rub the back of his neck. He'd never liked talking about his past. People always got awkward when he explained what had happened to his parents. Not that he could blame them. Death was always awkward. "My parents they - er - died when I was one."

Harry prepared himself for the oh I'm so sorry or that's horrible. Instead, Ginny reached across the table and took his free hand. She didn't say anything, just squeezed his fingers. Warmth spread from her touch. Normally, Harry would retreat from the conversation when his parents were brought up, but for the first time in a long time, he felt like he could talk about it.

"It - They were murdered by an old friend of theirs from Hogwarts." His throat always closed up every time he said those words. Harry could see the surprise in Ginny's eyes, but she still didn't say a word, letting him be in complete control. "Peter, their friend, joined a gang and his leader knew my parents had money, so he and Peter went to go rob my parents. Things went - South in the end."

"I'd say things were South from the start." Ginny twisted their joined hands so she could rub her thumb over his palm.

To Harry's surprise, he laughed. "Yeah, you could say that."

"So your godfather raised you after that?"

He nodded. "Sirius and Remus, actually. They were both friends with my father, but Sirius is legally my godfather. Remus is now a teacher up at Hogwarts, and Sirius owns a muggle motorcycle shop."

"Really? You don't hear about many wizards starting muggle businesses."

"Sirius has always loved bikes. He told me it started just because his parents hated anything to do with muggles, but then he realized how interesting they were. And after what happened to my parents - Sirius said the muggle world was a nice break from it all." Harry realized how dry his throat had become and took a deep drag from his pint.

"And I'm guessing he knows how to ride them?" Ginny was still looking at him as if there weren't twenty other people in the pub, as if there weren't an entire world outside that front door. It sent shivers down his spine.

"Yeah, and he taught me."

Ginny's grin became wider and a little mischievous. "Really?" She slid her hand out of his, Harry instantly bemoaned the loss of her touch. She linked her own fingers together in a praying stance. "How long do I have to beg for you to take me on a ride?"

"You - you wanna go for a ride?"

"Hell yeah! I've never met anyone who actually knows how to drive a muggle vehicle." She waved her hands in excitement."My father works for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office in England, and he's gone on and on about motorbikes and automobiles. He's also obsessed with aeroplanes, but that's another thing entirely."

Harry couldn't stop staring as Ginny eagerly chattered. She was...amazing wasn't a strong enough word. "I'd love to take you for a ride sometime."

Ginny beamed at him. "Awesome! When would you be free? Tonight?"

"Well, night time isn't the best time." Harry paused, going through his mental calendar. "We have practice all week, but I should be free next Saturday. Maybe go sometime in the morning?"

Before Harry could comprehend what was happening, Ginny had risen from her chair and her arms were wrapped around his neck. "That's perfect, Harry! Thank you!"

Her flowery scent filled his lungs, making his mind lose connection to the rest of his body for a moment. When he finally came back to his senses he stuttered his response. "O - Of course. Any time."

"I'm gonna go get you another pint," Ginny proclaimed as she drew back. Harry watched her practically skip across the room. He let out a long breath. Harry knew when he was in trouble. Self-preservation had always been a strong skill of his, and at that moment, he knew he was in way too deep. Yet, he had no desire or will to evaluate the turbulent situation. No, instead all his mind could do was think of was ways to get Ginny to wrap her arms around him again.

Fuck, he was in so much trouble…