Diagon Alley teemed with people winnowing in and out of the shops lined up along the crooked street. Buskers hawked their wares in jolly tones magically amplified to rise above the chatter and noise and yelps of the crowd. Money exchanged hands: galleons and sickles and knuts, of course, and other currencies flashed and sparked (the currency from Lithuania did so literally, which was the source of some of the yelps). A man in purple robes played a guitar, and as he did, flyers folded in the shape of an eggplant rose into the air and floated on the breeze over the crowd.

"I've never seen the Alley so crowded."

Ginny looked over at Hermione, who was leaning over the balcony, staring down at the crowd with a look of wonder on her pale face. Her eyes were wide and mouth slightly open.

Satisfaction welled up inside her. "Mum says it used to be like this when she was a girl," said Ginny. "People used to come here to be here, not just to, you know, get what they needed and go."

"It's like a carnival," said Hermione. "I want to see a list of all the shops and things that have opened since Harry defeated Voldemort – my eyes are telling me dozens! Just like that!" she snapped her fingers.

"Well, it's the first time you've been here since then," said Ginny. "I don't know that they sprang up overnight…"

"That's true," said Hermione, wiping her fingers on her napkin. A shadow crossed her face.

"Like this place!" said Ginny, opening her arms, determined to keep this outing cheerful. "Look at this, a rooftop garden in the center of Diagon Alley. I bet it's brand new… I'll have to ask Mum, though."

The shadows cleared and Hermione smiled. "It is quite lovely," she said. "And as much as I'm glad to see Diagon Alley so busy, it's nice to have a – a quiet pocket to rest."

"Me too," said Ginny. She stretched out her legs and looked around. The garden took up the roofs of four of the buildings – none of which were even remotely the same height. Whoever had designed the place had been clever about it: bridges connected the different buildings, but everything else was left for magical plants, footpaths, and trickling streams. Their table was part of a small cluster just to the side of a waterfall flowing from one roof to theirs. A fresh breeze brought the scent of flutterby bushes, and she smiled. "I think this is my favorite spot in Diagon Alley."

"Even more than Quality Quidditch Supply?" Hermione asked. "I find that hard to believe."

Ginny huffed out a breath and sat up a little straighter. "Oh, I used to love it there. Now it feels like going to work." As much as she loved her job, playing for the Harpies was a little more intense than she expected. Oh, the practices and the games were exactly as she imagined it, but everything else…

Hermione raised her eyebrow. "Don't tell me you don't enjoy it," she said. Mild disbelief colored her tone. "You love flying!"

"Oh, I love that part of it," Ginny said quickly. "I love flying and playing Quidditch. But… it's a little…" She bit her lip and blew out a breath. "I just didn't expect to be nineteen and living in a dorm. Sometimes I feel like I'm still at Hogwarts, except I don't like my dormmates half as well as the other witches in my year. And we've got a curfew!"

"A curfew?" Hermione asked. "Really?"

"It's just during the season, but if we're single, we're expected to be back in the dorms by ten at night," said Ginny. "Gwenog is worse than my mum about it. Ten at night!"

A waitress materialized at her elbow and Ginny's rant fizzled out.

"Sorry it took so long for me to get here," said the witch. Her accent told Ginny she was American. "We've been busy today!"

Hermione smiled. "That's good for business, isn't it?"

"Very," said the witch. "My name is Lois, by the way." A quill and a small notebook bobbed in the air in front of her. "Have you decided what you want to order?"

"I think I need a few more minutes," said Hermione.

"We haven't even opened our menus," said Ginny.

"We're ready to order."

Ginny looked around. Perhaps while she'd been ranting about Quidditch, a trio of witches had set themselves up at one of the tables. The one furthest away was the one who had spoken, though all three looked so alike it was difficult to tell. Their robes were toga-like, their hair was piled up high with three buns stacked atop each other, and honest-to-Merlin wings extruded from their backs. Their feathers brushed the tightly packed earth.

All three of them ordered something complicated. The quill noted down everything they said; pages of the notebook flipped themselves, and the waitress maintained a pleasant demeanor the entire time, which was not something Ginny would've been able to manage.

"I think I've got all that," she said. "Do you—"

"You're American!" This was flung at the waitress like an accusation.

"Erm, yes?"

This kicked them up. Ginny, who was both irritated and intrigued, couldn't help but listen. All three of the witches worked for a traveling agency that had just set up shop in the Alley below, and worked to set up "a curated experience for anyone wanting to travel and experience the magical world". Their ire at Americans was that the bookings they'd made for wizards and witches visiting the far west coast of America had been suddenly, inexplicably cancelled.

"Our clients are going to be furious."

"The Hesperides Resort canceled everything: the rooms, the tours. Everything!"

"And what are we to tell our clients, hm? Most of them are pureblood!"

Ginny's hackles well and truly rose at that. Lois was red-faced and stammering. Ginny moved to stand beside her and look down at the three witches. "What does this witch have to do with the decisions a resort has made half across the world?" she asked coldly.

All three traded flabbergasted looks, as though they'd never come across someone challenging them before. "She's American, and—"

Ginny didn't let the ringleader finish her sentence. "That doesn't mean she knows anything about it." She drew her wand, eyeing it, and then the witches. "We're British; what if you went over to America and people started accusing you of things you had nothing to do with? Like Voldemort?"

The three let out little shrieks, and their wings mantled. "That's – that was impolite!"

"She said his name!"

"That's just rude."

"You know what, witches," the ringleader said, standing up, "we don't need to stay here and accept this." She folded her arms across her chest. "We can take our business elsewhere."

Ginny gave them a cold nod and watched them go. It was a little depressing, and it cast a pall over the day, to hear that while Voldemort was gone the prejudice still remained. He hadn't been the source of it, to be sure, but it was disheartening to know that there would always be people like these witches who thought being pureblood elevated them above the rest. When they left, giving Ginny small glares as they did so, Ginny went back to the table and sank into her chair.

Hermione's lips were pursed and her eyes sparkled.

"What?" Ginny demanded.

"You didn't even have to give them your Bat Bogey Hex and they were properly frightened of you," said Hermione. For a few moments, laughter bubbled out of her—

-before it turned into a nasty, hacking cough.

Worry seized Ginny instantly, and she leaned forward. "Are you okay? Do you think we should—"

"Don't," Hermione said angrily, once her coughing fit ended. "I am perfectly able to sit on the rooftop."

Ginny sighed. "Ron would kill me if he—"

"Then don't tell him," Hermione ordered. Her face fell. "I've been stuck in Grimmauld Place this entire winter with one thing after another. I need to be outside. I've got to feel the sun on my face and hear people talking other than Ron and Harry. Please, Ginny."

"Oh, all right," said Ginny, eyeing her friend up and down. "I suppose you know best what's good for you or not."

"I do," Hermione said firmly. A couple more coughs escaped her. "I do know what's good for me, and a day out will do wonders." She grimaced. "As much as I love your brother I just need…"

"A few minutes to breathe without him smothering you?" Ginny asked, smirking.

"Just… a bit of breathing room," said Hermione. "He just fusses sometimes, and sometimes Harry gets badgered into doing it, too."

Ginny sat a little straighter. "How is he?"

Hermione eyed her.

"Oh, come on, I haven't seen him in ages," said Ginny. "You can rant about how Ron bullies him into smothering you later. I've barely seen him since Christmas!"

And it was true. Harry was up at Hogwarts now and had been since September first. She and Ron and Hermione had taken a picture of him standing in front of the barrier that led to Platform 9 ¾ and made much of his "first day as a professor", despite his protests that 1) he was not an actual professor, and 2) would be Apparating to Hogwarts rather than taking the train like a student. But he'd eventually been worn down and Ginny kept that picture in a frame in her nightstand. In the autumn, she'd seen him every weekend, but now that she'd got her own career started – and had a curfew, damn it – their schedules opposed each other's.

"He's fine, I suppose," said Hermione. "He's still adjusting."

"Of course he is," said Ginny. "He was all set to be an Auror, then the idiots at the Ministry shoved off Kingsley as Minister and brought in Fairweather."

"Too right," said Hermione. "I think he'll ease into it, but—"

Their American waitress chose that moment to rematerialize with a plate of biscuits and two steaming hot chocolates. "I realized I never got your order," she said. "I'm so sorry about that, I was a bit flustered; they've been here before, you see, always asking questions. I've been here for five years, I don't know anything about anything!"

Ginny smiled at her. "Don't you worry about it," she said. "This looks lovely, it's probably what we would've ordered ourselves, isn't it?" she flicked a glance at Hermione.

"Of course," said Hermione.

The waitress – Lois, Ginny reminded herself – headed off again.

She turned to Hermione, about to reopen their discussion about their good friend Harry, when—

"You know, this isn't the first thing I've heard about trouble in the west," Hermione said in a low, conspiratorial whisper. "I didn't want to bring it up just now, but I've heard it's not just the resort in the Hesperides, it's the whole community."

Ginny picked up her hot chocolate and blew on it. "Those are the islands off their west coast, right? Full of the swanky type?"

"Right," said Hermione. "But I wouldn't call them 'swanky' type; they're not all purebloods, they've all just got money. I read in The History of the Furthest West that they used to be a community of scholars who decided to retreat from any sort of Muggle society. What I found really interesting…"

Ginny tipped her head back and let the warmth of the sun bathe over her. She recognized the signs of Hermione launching into a full-blown lecture. She listened with half an ear – Hermione would ask questions to see if she'd been paying attention – and settled in to drink her hot chocolate. It really is a shame I barely get to see him, Ginny thought. She missed the camaraderie, the closeness… the way his hair stuck up all over the place, how he laughed at her jokes, and even the way he still touched his scar when he was troubled.

"Ginny!"

Ginny shot upward in her seat, nearly spilling her hot chocolate. She half stood and turned; there he was, striding toward her. His green eyes tangled with hers. It was such an unexpected occurrence — fancy seeing Harry here, all unplanned! — that her heart leapt and she beamed at him. "Harry! What're you doing here?"

"Hagrid asked me to grab a couple ingredients from the apothecary"—he held out up a bag—"and I looked up and saw you. Well, I saw your hair."

"Weasley red is hard to mistake," she said. Her cheerfulness had recovered entirely from the more sober discussion. Indeed, it seemed to have doubled.

"I must've looked up at just the right time," he said. "One minute I was looking at the array of pasties on the corner over there, and the next I look up and see you."

"Oh that was good timing," said Ginny.

"Must've taken my Felix Felicis this morning," said Harry.

Ginny was laughing when he hugged her, a quick, one-armed hug that nevertheless warmed her. It might've lasted a touch longer had Hermione not chosen that moment to clear her throat.

"Hermione!" Harry said, stepping away. "Hi."

"Hi, Harry," said Hermione in a tone so dry that Ginny could tell she was struggling not laugh. Or perhaps struggling not to cough. "Having a good day?"

"Oh, erm, yeah, you know... just running errands for Hagrid during my free hour," said Harry, ruffling his hair. Ginny still stood, hands clasped behind her back, looking at him.

It hadn't occurred to her that with her playing Quidditch and being forced to follow rather draconian housing rules and Harry working at Hogwarts, she would not see him as often as she'd gotten used to in the time since the war ended. All that jumbled up inside her and spilled out. "I was just thinking how much I miss seeing you!" she said, reaching out for his arm again.

"Oh, yeah?" he said. "You could come around more, you know—"

"I would, but our schedules just… oppose," she said. She squeezed his forearm. "I'd be there if I could."

"I know," Harry said. "I know, but…"

"And I'll see you at George's birthday this weekend, right?"

His face brightened. "Right! That's Friday, isn't it?"

"It's sort of the reason why we came here today, to get a present for him," she said. "We haven't really found anything, but…"

"Oh, I got him something a while ago, I should try to remember where to put it."

This was the best part of Ginny's day, standing there, talking to him the way they usually did – their conversations were nearly as fast-paced as Quidditch matches, especially so since they hadn't seen each other in nearly three weeks. He was smiling at her in that slow, easy way. She basked in it, remembering how hard it had been to coax those smiles out of him, and prattled on, beaming so hard her face hurt.

Their conversation hadn't even approached winding down when the gold watch around his wrist – her Uncle Fabian's old watch, of course – let out a loud chiming sound.

"Oh, fuck, I've got to get back to Hogwarts!"

"Noooo," said Ginny. "It can't possibly be time yet!"

"It is," said Harry. "But – listen – I'll see you this weekend? George's party?"

"Yes," said Ginny. Their eyes tangled together again and there was a humming between then that was nearly audible. He was one of her closest friends and she wanted to grab onto him and keep him with her. She took a step back, before she actually tried to hold onto him. "You'll be there?"

"Of course," said Harry.

His watch chimed again, louder. He broke eye contact, tossed a 'see you later' to Hermione, and sprinted off toward the entrance to the rooftop garden. Ginny watched him go, wishing he'd had just a few more minutes, damn it, that way they could get all the chatter out of their system, and Ginny wouldn't have had to feel so… oddly bereft.

She sank back into her chair.

Hermione was watching her with a little smirk on her thin, pale face. "That was about as adorable as watching baby krups play," she said. "When are you two going to…?"

Heat flared up in her cheeks. "Oh, shut it," said Ginny. But it was said without vigor. "I just wanted a bit more time with him, that's all."

"You'd have all the time with him you wanted if you swept him off his feet and properly romanced him," Hermione pointed out. "Oh, don't give me that look. I'm sick, not blind."

"Far be it from me to argue with you," said Ginny, who couldn't help but imagine how she would accomplish such a feat. Her heart raced at the thought of it. I can't think about this now, she told herself. She shoved thoughts of Harry to the back of her mind and turned back to Hermione, who was still smirking, damn her. "Weren't you just telling me all about the Hesperides? Can't we just go back to that?"

"I suppose," said Hermione.

I just need more time. More time to be with him, and more time to think about what we might want to be to each other. Ginny closed her eyes again as Hermione obligingly resumed her lecture on the Hesperides. Harry had been her friend for so long… shouldn't it feel a bit odd to think of taking a step in a new direction?

I just need time.

HPHPHPHPHP

Author's Note: I am quite happy to be writing a brand new h/g story. I feel like this is such a time of uncertainty that I needed to start on something new for them, and not just a one-shot here and there. I hope any of you who may be reading this are doing well and staying safe. I'm holed up in my house right now – I have to say this has been very conducive to writing. Lol

Anyway. I'd again like to issue an open invitation to anyone who'd like to join the Ginny Lovers discord server. You'll find fic archives, memes, a wonderfully smutty roommates fic that awakening5 is writing, and all sorts of content you can't find on ffn. I'll post a link on my tumblr in case this doesn't work (I'm deadwoodpecker on tumblr as well). We can't wait to meet you.

INVITE LINK: Discord . gg / jyBs25D (Obviously take out the spaces)

I hope you take the time to comment; please review! And let me know what books are on your nightstand (either literal or virtual), I am always looking for book recommendations. Who else saw the announcement today that we're getting not one but two Dresden Files this year?! (I've read Peace Talks and I am jonesing for Battle Ground)