PhoenixSong.net :: A Harry/Ginny Fanfic and Fanart Archive

Author: GovCampbell

Story: Defining the Relationship

Part: Chapter Seven

Rating: Teens

Setting: Pre-HBP

Status: Completed

Reviews: 31

Words: 6,138

Updated: August 24, 2005, 7:27am

Printer Friendly Format

Chapter Navigation:

Chapter Seven

A/N: Disclaimer in Prologue.

My beta Arnel was spectacular in helping me whip this chapter into shape. She identified several areas where the story was thin, and I went back and gave them some more thought. She does all this, and keeps the grammar in line too!

And I absolutely have to thank VinatieriFan010304, otherwise known in these parts as my fiancée, for a fabulous assist with several sections. If your sides are splitting with laughter towards the end of this chapter, be sure and thank her.

-- -- -- --

The clock on Harry’s nightstand read eleven o’clock when he woke up Saturday morning. He lay in bed, smiling and staring at the ceiling. He could feel Ginny’s lips on his and could see her smiling at him with his mind’s eye. Finally, reluctantly, he sat up and got out of bed. He showered and did his usual morning routine. He didn’t think he would find anyone to deliver roses on a Saturday, and besides, a Muggle florist wouldn’t deliver to Hogsmeade anyway. He caught the bus to the downtown area, and bought a dozen roses, and took them back to his flat. He composed a short note.

Ginny,

I had a wonderful time with you last night. I really hope we can do it again sometime.

Harry

He tucked the note inside the long box, gave the package to Hedwig, and gave her an owl treat. “You know where these are going, right?”

Hedwig nipped his ear affectionately before flying out the window. He sighed, and stared out after her. He made himself a bit of lunch, and then went to change into some exercise clothes. He felt like a good run.

-- -- -- --

Ginny awoke to an insistent tapping sound at her window. She looked over and opened it. Hedwig flew in, carrying a long, thin box. Ginny opened it, revealing a dozen roses and a small note. She read the note Harry had penned and clutched it to her chest, smiling. Humming to herself, she found another vase, and put the roses on the table next to the bouquet Harry had brought over the night before. She made herself some toast before putting on a sweater and slacks. She tossed some powder in the fire, and Flooed over to the Haven.

Hermione was catnapping on the sofa in her living room and woke with a start when Ginny appeared in her fireplace. Then she caught the look on Ginny’s face.

“How did it go?” Hermione asked immediately.

“It was so wonderful!” Ginny said, twirling and flopping into Ron’s favourite chair. “He brought me flowers, we went out dancing, and dinner was wonderful! You should have seen him! He was so handsome!”

“What did he wear?” Hermione asked.

“He wore a blue suit – it looked so good on him – and he even did something with his hair!”

“He got it to lie flat?”

“Yes, he looked wonderful!”

“Oh, Ginny, it sounds wonderful! What else happened?”

“Well, we danced. He dances very well.” Humming loudly, Ginny got to her feet and pulled Hermione off the couch, attempting to make Hermione dance with her across the living room.

“Shh!” Hermione protested. “Not so loud!”

“Charlie sleeping?” Ginny asked. Hermione nodded. Ginny looked around. “Where’s Ron?”

Hermione shook her head angrily, wrinkling her nose a bit and growling. “He had to go into the office. Kingsley wanted to review some of the files on Malfoy for evidence of mental illness. The Ministry is all worked up about his refusal to petition for clemency.” Hermione shrugged, sitting back down on the sofa. Ginny stood by the mantle and traced her fingers over the pictures in their frames, a far off, dreamy look on her face that reminded Hermione of Luna Lovegood.

“I never would have thought that Harry would be able to dance so well,” Hermione said, bringing the conversation back to the topic of the date. “But what else?”

“What else, what?”

“Gin-ny!” Hermione whined. “Did he kiss you?”

Ginny’s face turned bright red, and she ducked her head down. “Yes,” she admitted, looking up. “Twice.” Ginny grinned, and her blush deepened to a scarlet flush.

“Really?” Hermione sat forward eagerly. “What happened the first time?”

“We were dancing, and there was this song, and at the end, he just leaned down and kissed me. It was so soft and gentle. I had no idea he was could be so sweet. It was…perfect.” Ginny collapsed on the couch next to Hermione. She grabbed one of the throw pillows and hugged it tightly to her chest, resting her head on it and smiling.

Hermione sighed. “Oh, Ginny. This is wonderful. What about the second time?”

“Well, we kissed goodnight. That kiss was a little more…shall we say, passionate?”

“Ooooh,” Hermione waggled her eyebrows a little bit. “Hot and heavy? Bodice ripper?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Ginny allowed, giggling a little. “Oh, and this morning – he sent me roses.”

“Roses?” Hermione eyes popped a little. “Who’s been giving Harry romance lessons?”

Ginny laughed, throwing her hands open in a gesture of disbelief, letting the pillow she’d been holding fall to the floor. “I don’t know, but I’m not complaining.”

From upstairs, Charlie began to fuss. Hermione looked at her watch. “Looks like it’s time for mid-morning snack,” she sighed, rising from the couch. Ginny followed her up the stairs to the nursery. The blue painted nursery was filled to the brim with gifts and stuffed creatures of every shape and size. Charlie was waving his arms, and wasn’t quite crying, but he was well on his way.

“Okay, okay,” Hermione said, lifting Charlie out of his cot. “Mummy’s here.” She rubbed his back gently, and he immediately began nuzzling her, searching for food. “Yes, yes, I know, you’re hungry.” Hermione sat down in the rocking chair, and began feeding Charlie.

“It’s hard to believe,” Ginny commented, running her hand along the smooth wood of the cot rail. “I could never, ever, picture Ron as a dad. But now, everything is so different. It just seems like the most natural thing in the world to sit here and watch you feed my nephew.”

“You want to hold him when he’s done?” Hermione asked.

“Erm, sure,” Ginny replied, suddenly feeling strange. She’d never felt this way about holding Fred and George’s children, and she’d already held Charlie on the day he was born. Why was she suddenly nervous about holding him now?

Watching Hermione feed Charlie, Ginny felt a tingling feeling growing at the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t until Charlie was done, and Hermione had settled him into her arms that the feeling finally blossomed into something she could recognize.

“I want one,” she blurted out suddenly surprised she’d said it out loud. She felt her face redden with embarrassment, but Hermione just laughed.

“All it took was one good date to get that biological clock chiming, huh Ginny?” Hermione laughed. “Relax, you’ve got lots of time. You’re younger than I am.”

“I know,” Ginny replied, and she sighed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me all of a sudden.”

“Ginny, nothing you’re feeling is out of the ordinary. When Fred and Angelina had the twins, and George and Alicia had little Sara, I was incredibly jealous. I wanted one so badly.”

“Not that you weren’t trying, or anything,” Ginny said, smirking.

“Well, right, but that’s not the point. Even at your age, it’s natural to feel a little jealous. Especially now, with Harry finally seeing the light and all, I’m not surprised you feel like you want one.”

Charlie yawned with a tiny sigh, and snuggled against Ginny’s chest, dropping back off to sleep. “What’s it like?” Ginny asked softly, “Being a mum?”

Hermione paused. “A famous American…can’t remember who…once said, ‘I feel as if the moon and the stars and all the heavens have fallen on me,’” she said. “It’s a feeling like that, in a way. Suddenly, I’m not responsible for just me anymore, or even just me and Ron. There’s Charlie now, totally depending on us, unable to do anything for himself, solely in our care. It’s an incredible weight of responsibility. It’s scary, but at the same time, it’s the happiest I’ve ever been. We get to watch him grow up and develop into his own person. It’s incredible, a tremendous joy, even if I’m terrified that somehow, I’ll mess it all up.”

“I’m sure you won’t mess it up,” Ginny said reassuringly, pondering what Hermione had said. She wondered what it might be like, to have someone totally dependent on her. I’m not convinced I can take care of myself half the time, she thought, how in the world could I be a mum?

“Are you coming to Weasley Wives tonight?” Hermione asked.

Weasley Wives was a tradition that had started when Molly began regularly inviting Penny over to dinner, and had Arthur take care of little Arthur while they chatted in the kitchen. When Fred and Angelina had eloped, Molly had expanded the get-together to include Angelina. Now, Molly, Penny, Angelina, Alicia and Hermione met twice monthly while their husbands entertained the children in the other room. Ginny occasionally dropped by to catch up on the latest gossip, but had never been quite comfortable with the gathering, focused as it was on being married.

“I wasn’t going to,” Ginny began. “I was going to see if….”

“Oh, but you must come!” Hermione exclaimed. “You’ll have to tell everyone about the date!”

“Well, I really don’t know,” Ginny protested.

“You’re coming,” Hermione said determinedly.

-- -- -- --

Harry was absorbed in a war movie on the telly when he heard a voice from the fireplace.

“Harry?”

“Coming!” he called out and stepped over to the fireplace. It was Fred. “Hey Fred, what’s up?”

“Weasley Wives is tonight, and our shop clerk has had a family emergency. George suggested you probably weren’t, so we were wondering…”

“Sure Fred, I’ll mind the store. I have to protect my investment, you know.”

“I thought you’d see it our way,” Fred grinned.

“I’ll be right there,” Harry said, and then looked down at himself. “Strike that, I’ll be there in just a bit. I need to make myself look a little more presentable.”

Harry had still been sitting around in his track shorts and t-shirt from his run that afternoon. He’d done a little over two kilometres without breaking much of a sweat, an impressive feat even to himself. Being an Auror had a few advantages; physical fitness was obviously one of them.

“Sounds good.” Fred agreed. “We’ll see you in a few.”

Harry took a quick shower, before putting on his casual robes. He was probably overdressed as a shop keep, but he thought he might swing by the Burrow after Fred and George got back. Weasley Wives was rarely a late evening event, with the children at the ages they were, and Harry figured that if Ginny went, she would still be there after the twins left.

He Apparated over to the shop, and found it moderately crowded on a Saturday afternoon. Fred was waiting. “Great, Harry. You know how this works, I assume.”

“Everything is priced as marked, no haggling,” Harry said.

“Righto, mate. If you can’t answer a question, just tell them to come back when we’re around.”

“Will do,” Harry agreed.

“Thanks so much, mate. We owe you one.”

“No problem, get going. Angelina’s probably looking for your help with the twins.”

“You’d better believe it.” Fred Disapparated with a soft pop. Harry turned to the counter, and sat down on the stool by the till. A young boy, who looked like he was about ready for his first year, looked at him in awe as he went to pay for canary creams.

“You’re Harry Potter!” the boy said in jaw-dropped wonderment, staring up at Harry’s scar. It had faded considerably with Voldemort’s demise, but it was still there. Harry nodded. The boy blinked a few times, still unabashedly staring at Harry with an expression of total awe on his face.

“That’ll be ten sickles,” Harry told the boy. The boy nervously counted out his coins.

“What are you doing here?” the boy asked as he handed over the handful of change. Gumption on that one, Harry thought. Potential Gryffindor.

“I’m good friends with the Weasley brothers, and I’m giving them a hand for the afternoon.”

“Wicked.” The awestruck boy took his package and left. Harry watched him walk out and tell his mother who had waited on him, pointing in at the store. The mother shook her head and laughed, and the boy looked indignant. The mother gave him a patronizing smile, put her head to the glass and looked. Harry waved at her. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she turned back to her son as they walked away. Harry laughed. A little girl put a Skiving Snackbox on the counter, and he turned to help her.

-- -- -- --

Ginny and Hermione arrived at the Burrow just after Fred, George and their broods. Ron arrived directly from the office shortly after everyone else had gotten there, and, taking Charlie, joined his brothers in the living room. Mr. Weasley wasn’t there; he was on the Continent at a weekend long conference of Ministers. Hermione spilled the beans about Ginny’s date with Harry and soon the others were begging her for details. In no time they were all squealing and giggling.

In the living room, George watching Irissa and Iella toddle across the rug, while Fred was trying to coax “Uncle Fred” out of little Sara, who had just learned to talk. Ron was letting Charlie grasp one of his fingers and draw it into his mouth to suck on. A particularly loud squeal emanated from the kitchen, and Ron looked at his brothers.

“So our sister,” Ron began.

“What about her?” Fred asked, catching Iella before she grabbed one of their mother’s snow globes from the table.

“Apparently went to The Ritz for dinner and dancing last night.” Ron, Charlie in his arms, blocked the doorway to keep Irissa from wandering out into the hallway.

“With whom?” George asked, looking up in surprise. Ginny almost never went out on dates.

“Harry.”

“Harry?” Fred was shocked. He had just finished putting the snow globe collection on a higher shelf when Iella began removing his father’s books from the bottom shelf.

“Harry Potter? Who’s minding our store right now?” George asked. “We are talking about the same Harry, right?” He grabbed Sara to keep her from crawling underneath the couch.

“The same,” Ron replied, smiling.

“Well, it’s about time,” Fred said firmly. “Oh, Ron grab her.”

Ron grabbed Irissa, who had managed to work open the cabinet under the end table where their father kept the firewhiskey.

“Too right,” George said, setting a squirming Sara back onto the floor. “Only now we’ll have to tease him about it when we get back.”

“Did they have a good time?”

“Do you hear that?” Ron said, handing Charlie to George and swinging a giggling Iella up onto his shoulders.

The men stopped talking and listened to their wives and their sister squealing in the next room.

“I guess they must have.”

“Yeah.”

“Any bets?” Fred asked, letting Sara try and climb up his leg.

“Wedding within the year,” Ron said, pulling out a ten galleon coin.

George shook his head. “They’ll be living together inside of six months,” he forecasted, “Married or not.” Carefully not to drop Charlie, he fished in his pockets for his own coin.

“George!” Ron said, scandalized. “Harry wouldn’t do that to our little sister!” Ron took his mum’s latest issue of Witch Weekly away from Irissa, who had apparently decided it looked edible.

“I’m more concerned about what our little sister will do to Harry,” George replied, finally laying his coin on the table.

“I’m going to go with an engagement announcement by Halloween,” Fred said, picking up the coins from the table, and away from Sara, who was reaching for them. He put them, and his own, on the upper shelf, out of reach. “I’ll contact a few others, see if we can sweeten the pot a little.”

Ron nodded. “Sounds like plan. We should at least let Bill and Dad in on the action.”

“Right.”

-- -- -- --

Harry was exhausted by the time the twins returned to close up the shop. Word had spread quickly that Harry was behind the counter at the Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, and people who wouldn’t have normally stopped into the shop did so just to chat him up. He tried to dispense with them quickly, but still ended up signing a few autographs and brushing off a few brazen flirts. He saw a few familiar faces, including Eloise Midgen, who stopped in to say hello, but had tried to stay out of the way when it was clear that he was swamped. Lavender Finnegan came in with her large brood, and they had gotten to chatting while her children tried to destroy the shop.

Twin pops of displaced air announced the return of Fred and George. Harry looked up to find them standing over him with identical grins of merriment and mischief on their faces. Harry groaned, and he wondered what they had heard at the Burrow.

“Young man,” Fred began solemnly.

“We’re going to have to see some references.” George was nodding his head.

“References?” Harry asked weakly.

“Yes.”

“References.” They were both nodding now.

“After all, we’re not going to let just anyone court our baby sister,” Fred told him.

“Quite right, old chap. Now, is there anyone we can speak to who can vouch for you?”

“Your credibility?

“Finances?

“Trustworthiness?

“That sort of thing?”

“How about some former colleagues perhaps?”

“George, I do say, didn’t I hear that this young man here was recently unemployed?”

“Really now? Unemployed? Well, young man, what do you have to say for yourself? Why did you leave your position?”

“Erm,” Harry managed, not quite scared, but not quite comfortable either.

“Hmm…unemployed. I don’t know Fred, I’m not sure our baby sister can date someone who is unemployed.”

“Well, let’s give him the benefit of the doubt for the moment,” Fred allowed. “Now, who else can we talk to? Ex-girlfriends, perhaps?”

“Oh yes, that will be very important indeed. We’ll need to know that you’re an upstanding young man, of the highest moral character,” George said.

“And if you’re not..”

“…We’ll need to make sure you’re good enough…”

“…to make up for being bad.”

Harry covered his ears.

“I mean, after all, our Ginny can’t be seen with just anybody.”

“No, not at all!” Fred paused a moment, frowning in concentration. “Wait, I’ve seen your face.” He snapped his fingers. “That’s where I’ve seen you before!”

“Where?” George asked.

“In the Daily Prophet,” Fred explained. “He was in a picture with Gilderoy Lockhart!”

“Oh!” George swooned. “Gilderoy Lockhart! So heavenly. What was he like?” George begged. “Can you introduce him to Ginny? I think they’d get along famously.”

“All right, all right, knock it off, you gits,” Harry said finally, throwing up his arms. “Yes, I took Ginny on a date last night, we had a good time.”

“Well then, I suppose you know you’ll have to take good care of her,” George said. “You know we can make your life miserable if we find out you hurt her.”

“We’ve got some products.”

“Not for the general public you know.”

“Too dangerous.”

“But we do need to test them.”

“I’m well aware,” Harry said wryly.

“Good, then, we’re on the same page,” Fred replied. “Seriously Harry, we’re happy for you. She really couldn’t be seen with a better bloke.”

“Thank you,” Harry said honestly.

“But you still better keep your hands where they belong.” George winked at him.

“After all…”

“…we do know…”

“…where you live.”

“Right.”

“Thanks again for minding the store, Harry,” Fred told him. “You know what a mess it would have been if we’d missed out on Weasley Wives.”

“No problem, any time.”

“Oh Harry, be sure and tell us the next time you decide to take our sister out.”

“Yes, we could arrange something really special.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Fred agreed, “Perhaps a nice romantic box of Flatulence Fudge?”

“Or maybe you could try out our new Shortening Solution.”

“Guaranteed to make you feel two feet tall!”

“Of course, we wouldn’t want you to have our Naughty Nougats, though, right Gred?”

“Oh, no, certainly not on the second date, Forge. That kind of thing is much better for the third date.”

“I don’t want to know what those are, right?” Harry asked weakly.

The twins shook their heads emphatically.

“And we’re not going to tell you,” Fred replied.

“Especially not when we’re also talking about…”

“…our sister.”

“Ew.” They both said, wrinkling their noses and shaking their heads.

“Good night you two,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.

“Night, Harry!”

Harry closed his eyes, and after a brief disorientation, was back in his flat. Hedwig was waiting, and a note from Ginny was on the table.

Dear Harry,

I had a wonderful time last night as well. The roses are beautiful. You are such a gentleman and you make me feel like a princess. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.

Affectionately,

Ginny

Harry smiled, and tucked the note carefully into a drawer in his desk. He took another quick shower, and collapsed into bed.

-- -- -- --

Harry got up Sunday morning, dressed and went to St. Jonathon’s. St. Jonathon’s was the non-denominational church in Diagon Ally. It had been an Anglican church at one time, over a century ago, and still retained many of that denomination’s trappings. As far as Harry knew, it was the only church in England that exclusively served the wizarding population.

Harry had been surprised to find out his parents had been active in the church. It was just one of the many things that no one had ever thought to tell him. He’d been baptized at St. Jonathon’s, he had discovered, which was a tradition among wizarding families whether they attended regularly or not. The event was now more of a social function where far-flung family gathered to greet the new arrival. The gatherings after the baptism of both Fred’s twins and George’s little girl were events that would be remembered for a long time, given the number of pranks one twin had played on the other. Ron and Hermione would have Charlie baptized in a few weeks. Harry expected the get-together following that occasion would be memorable as well.

Harry had been moved to attend service at St. Jonathon’s when he’d found out about his parents' attendance. He had found the services interesting, so he kept attending, even though his Auror career often enforced long absences. The parson at the church, Brother Thomas, always did his best to build a meaningful bridge between the Muggle Bible and the wizarding religious texts, which Harry hadn’t even know existed until he started going.

Remus usually attended as well, and Harry and Remus had made a habit of going out to lunch after church.

“I expected you at my place yesterday,” Remus said, as the left the church building.

“Fred and George needed me to mind the store, so they could go to Weasley Wives,” Harry replied. “Otherwise, I would have come by.”

Remus nodded. “So how did the date go?” Remus asked, as they entered their usual café.

“It was great,” Harry replied. In between being seated and having their orders taken, Harry filled Remus in on the details of Friday evening.

“Sounds like a spectacular first date, Harry,” Remus told him.

“Right, so I have some questions, Uncle Moony,” Harry said, grinning.

Remus rolled his eyes. “Now what?” he asked. The food appeared on their table, and they began to eat.

“What makes a good second date?” Harry asked, in between bites of fish and chips.

“Well, what do you and Ginny both like to do?” Remus asked, cutting into his Shepard’s pie.

“Well…we both like Quidditch,” Harry replied, thinking of the first thing that came to mind.

“Unfortunately, the season hasn’t started yet, or I’d suggest you take her to a Quidditch match. What else?” Remus snagged a handful of chips from Harry’s basket.

“Well, obviously she likes to dance, but I’d like to do something different,” Harry said, reaching over with his fork grab a bite of Remus’s pie.

“Have you thought of asking her to go on a picnic with you?” Remus suggested. “Someplace alone, with a nice view?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Harry considered, cocking his head thoughtfully.

“Anything else?” Remus prompted, when Harry was silent for a time.

“Well, I was wondering…erm…I just had some questions about…er…well…you know…” Harry shifted nervously in his seat.

Remus let a smile dance across his lips. He knew of course, but decided to make Harry sweat this one out. “What are you talking about Harry?”

“Well, when is it appropriate to…” Harry dropped his fork, and had to reach under the table to pick it up.

“To what? Appropriate to start exchanging birthday gifts?” Remus suggested, stealing a few more of Harry’s chips while he was otherwise occupied.

“No, I mean, when should you…erm…” Harry caught his head on the edge of the table as he was sitting back up, rattling all the dishes and sloshing water out of their glasses. “Damnit, ow!” Harry cursed, rubbing his head.

“Tell her you love her?”

“No…Well, yes, that too, but I was talking about…I mean when should we…well…not that we would, at this point, but for the sake of argument…when is it okay to take the…erm…physical relationship…to…er…the next level?” Harry’s face was as red as Remus had ever seen it, and he was practically fidgeting out of his chair.

Remus chucked at Harry’s discomfort. “Harry, you’re 21, nearly 22 years old. You can say the word sex.”

Harry glared at him. “All right, fine. What about sex?”

“Well, Harry, that’s a complicated question.” Remus replied, leaning back in his chair, and Harry noticed him unconsciously falling back into his professor mannerisms. “In wizarding culture, attitudes toward sex have been, in some cases, more lax than Muggle culture, and at the same time, more strict. As you well know, love is a type of magic in itself. True love, like the kind that binds say, Ron and Hermione, or Molly and Arthur, is very powerful magic indeed, and some say it cannot be denied its desires.” Harry winced a little at the memories that statement dredged up, but if Remus noticed, he didn’t show it. “While some,” he continued, “including people like Molly Weasley, will say that it’s not appropriate unless you first get married, there really isn’t an accepted consensus on that subject within the wizarding world.

“However,” Remus said, pausing to take a sip of his water. “the wizarding culture views sex far more seriously than some sections of the Muggle culture. The Muggles have, particularly in the past half-century or so, developed what they refer to as casual sex. No commitments, ties, or what have you. Quite the opposite in wizarding cultures. While a young wizard and witch may become intimately involved before marriage, there is the understanding of a deep commitment there. It’s not something approached lightly at all. With of course, the exception of women of the night, and the like.” Remus shrugged and leaned forward again, lacing his fingers together on the table.

“But you really didn’t ask me for a lecture on wizarding anthropology,” Remus said, apologetically. “In your case, Harry, I would think you’ll want to be patient, because communication is important. You’ll have to discuss that question with Miss Ginny in due time, and consider carefully before you make any decisions.”

“Right,” Harry replied. “I was only asking, because I had this dream….” He looked uncomfortable. “I think I’m going to spending a lot of time under a cold shower.”

Remus laughed. “The perils of being a young, single wizard.”

“Don’t you ever go out?” Harry asked Remus, the red blush fading from his face as they moved away from embarrassing subjects.

Remus sighed as the waitress cleared their plates off the table. “Occasionally. Most women don’t want to get involved with someone like me, however.”

Harry nodded. “I’m sorry I brought it up,” he said, rising and putting a few Galleons on the table. “I’ve got it this week.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Remus said. He shrugged his shoulders as they began walking out. “It’s all right to ask, Harry. The fact that I don’t like the answer is something I’ve learned to deal with. Anything else?”

“It’s funny,” Harry said, thoughtfully as they walked down the street. “Friday night really didn’t feel like a first date. It felt like we’d been going out forever, even if something did change the other night.”

Remus nodded. “It’s not surprising. You and Ginny have known each other for a long time. A lot of us always thought you had feelings for each other, so this hardly comes as a surprise.”

“So what else do women like?”

“Well, they like many things, Harry. When is her birthday?”

“It’s in August. The eleventh, I think,” Harry said, closing his eyes in concentration.

“You should make sure,” Remus pointed out. “Girls like it when you remember their birthday. You’ll also want to remember Friday’s date. They attach some importance to anniversaries of first dates, and that kind of thing.” Remus shrugged a bit. “I’m trying to remember the bits and pieces of advice your father handed out to anyone who would listen after he and your mother got together.” Remus smiled at the memory. “You’ve sent her flowers twice, but don’t stop there, and don’t always wait for a reason to send them. Women like to receive presents, ‘just because,’” he said as they strolled past Gringotts. “Listening is very important; make sure she feels like you care about what she has to say.”

Harry nodded. “Good advice.” He looked at his watch. “I don’t have anywhere to be. Are up for chess?” he asked.

“Certainly,” Remus replied, and they Apparated to Remus’s house. “I wish there was someone else for you to talk to. Sirius, certainly, would’ve probably been able to give you better advice,” Remus told him, getting out the chessboard.

“It’s all right, Uncle Moony. You haven’t steered me wrong so far.” Harry went into the kitchen and retrieved two Butterbeers from the pantry.

“Well, I imagine this will get complicated sooner or later. Relationships aren’t something I’ve had a lot of experience with, obviously.”

“Can’t you have a normal relationship though?” Harry asked, opening both bottles and handing one to Remus. “Lycanthropy can’t be passed without a bite, right?”

“You’re correct, Harry.” Remus nodded and took a swig. “But finding a woman who will be accepting of the condition and patient enough to deal with its effects is difficult.”

Harry nodded. “I can imagine.”

“It’s very difficult, because many people still have misconceptions about the condition. They don’t understand that it can be controlled.”

Harry sighed as he sat down in ‘his’ armchair. “It’s too bad.”

“It is indeed.”

“I always wanted a cousin,” Harry said innocently, while smiling. “Other than Dudley, of course.”

Remus chuckled. “Such a vivid imagination, boy.”

“You’re right, because I still imagine I can beat you at chess. C’mon, let’s go, old man.”

Remus laughed out loud, reaching for the chess pieces.

-- -- -- --

Harry staggered when he Flooed into his apartment. Remus appeared behind him a moment later, just catching him before he fell over the couch.

“All right Harry, easy there,” Remus was telling him.

Harry’s head was a little fuzzy, enough so that he’d avoided Apparating. It had been that way after the seventh or eighth Butterbeer. He wasn’t quite sure how many he and Remus had actually had and he couldn’t quite remember if Remus had talked him into that shot of firewhiskey or not. Or was it two shots? He had a vague recollection that Remus had told him that since he didn’t have to work in the morning, he should enjoy himself. He and Remus had talked long into the evening about chess, women, and the future.

“Here, Harry, sit down for a minute,” Remus was saying, guiding him to a seat on the couch. Harry looked at him accusingly.

“You’re not as in…intox…drunk as I am,” Harry said, triumphantly finding a word he could pronounce.

“That’s because I have to work in the morning, and I stopped after the third Butterbeer,” Remus pointed out. “Let me get you a glass of water.”

“Hey,” Harry said, in realization. “We’re at my place.”

“That’s correct, Harry.”

“I though I said I wanted to go see Ginny?” Harry whined, pouting a little.

“It’s late, Harry, Ginny’s probably asleep.”

“Oh,” Harry said. “Tomorrow then.” He sighed. “She’s really pretty, you know.”

“Yes, Harry. You’ve said as much. Several times.” Remus handed him a glass. “Here, Harry, drink.”

Harry drank. “You know, Uncle Moony, you’re the best.” Harry made his way unsteadily to his feet and threw his arm around Remus’s shoulders.

“Thank you, Harry.” Remus smiled.

“I mean, Herm…Hermione says I’m not so good with my emosh…emot…feelings. She says I don’t express myself very well.” Harry swayed a little. “But I just wanted to let you know that I love you, Uncle Moony.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Remus said sincerely.

“I mean, you’re all I’ve got left,” Harry said, nodding to himself. “Well, I mean, I’ve got Ron, and Hermy and…

“Hermy?” Remus said in amusement.

“Her-my-own-nee.” Harry said carefully. “And all the rest of the red hair crowd. ‘Specilly Ginny.” Harry sighed dramatically, and slumped, forcing Remus to lower him back to the couch. “I don’t understand, Uncle Moony. She’s so pretty, how come she never went out and found a guy? I mean, I was busy with Lord Whathisface, and all them, and she could have found someone happy. Somebody who wasn’t going to die. That’s why I never told her.”

“Told her what?” Remus asked, genuinely curious to see where this was going.

“That I really liked her.” Harry said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Wasn’t it? I thought so. “I mean, I’m not complain’ or anythin’. But why? Was she actually waiting for me?”

“Perhaps that’s a question you should ask Miss Ginny in person, Harry,” Remus suggested.

“Good idea!” Harry launched himself off the couch and narrowly avoided sprawling face first on the floor. “I’ll go ask her…”

“No, no, no, no…not now. Tomorrow,” Remus said. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“Okay,” Harry said, as Remus manoeuvred him down the hall to the bedroom. Harry shook his head a little. “I’m really drunk, aren’t I, Uncle Moony?”

“Yes, you are ,Harry.”

“Water. I need water. And…whatiscalled…pro...tein! Protein! Twins told me that,” Harry said proudly. “There’s some peanut butter in the cupboard. Get me a spoon,” Harry ordered.

Remus was highly impressed that Harry had managed to make the connection between peanut butter and protein.

“Oh wait, you don’t need to go get it. I’ll just Summon it…” Harry said, groping wildly about himself. “Where’s my wand?”

“I have it, Harry. I’ll get you another glass of water first. You take off your shoes and get into bed.” Remus went back out to the living room to retrieve the glass and refill it.

“’Kay.” Harry flopped on the bed, and began complying with Remus’s orders. He hummed to himself as he did so.

“Here, Harry, have another glass of water,” Remus said, returning with the glass. Harry guzzled it down.

“You’re the best, Uncle Moony,” Harry repeated. “I love you.”

“I know Harry,” Remus said, smiling, and pushing Harry gently down to lie on the bed. “Go to sleep.”

“You know what?” Harry whispered, staring at the ceiling.

“What’s that, Harry?”

“I think I might love Ginny too.”

Remus smiled, and nodded, pulling the sheet up over Harry. “I think you might too. Go to sleep.”

“Kay. Night, Uncle Moony!”

“Good night, Harry.”

Remus left the room and shut the door. He settled himself down on the couch and flipped on Harry’s telly softly. After watching the news for a few minutes, he got up and cracked the door to Harry’s bedroom. Harry was snoring loudly, sprawled on his side. Satisfied that Harry would be fine, except for a massive headache, Remus Apparated back to his house, the pop of displaced air echoing through Harry’s flat.

-- -- -- --

A/N: Hermione’s famous American is, of course, the Man from Missouri, Harry S Truman.

Chapter Navigation: Previous Next