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

Author: GovCampbell

Story: Defining the Relationship

Part: Chapter Nine

Rating: Teens

Setting: Pre-HBP

Status: Completed

Reviews: 25

Words: 4,808

Updated: September 17, 2005, 8:16am

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Chapter Nine

A/N: Disclaimer in the Prologue.

Thanks to Arnel for doing her usual efficient job of beta-ing. It’s her work that makes this readable for the rest of the general public, so big ups for her.

The clock is ticking! My fiancée is going to be my wife before I know it. That is, if we both survive the planning process. Love you, darlin’!

-- -- -- --

In all the excitement of Harry’s new job, Ginny had completely forgotten her intention of inviting him over for dinner. After Harry had announced his new position, her mother had excitedly set an extra place at the table, and whipped up a quick treacle tart for Harry in celebration. Her father, by contrast, wasn’t taken by surprise at all, and had taken the news with a small, knowing grin.

After dinner, they had all sat around chatting until Charlie began to fuss in the cot. Hermione had picked him up, and got him settled back down, but the moment she set him back in the cot, he began wailing again. She and Ron took him home at that point, hoping that the familiar surroundings would help.

Harry offered to see her home, a romantic gesture that had both her mother and father nodding in approval. They Apparated from the Burrow to her building, and Harry had given her a toe-curling kiss in the doorway to her flat before Apparating back to his own. It was only then had she realized that she’d never thought to ask him to dinner. She had resolved to catch up with him the next day, but when she’d arrived at his flat, she found it empty.

“Harry?” she called uncertainly. Her only response was a soft hoot from Hedwig, who glided off her perch to land on Ginny’s shoulder, where she preened Ginny’s hair in an approving manner. Ginny smiled. “Do you know where Harry is?”

Hedwig blinked at her, but Ginny could swear the owl understood every word. “All right then,” Ginny said. “I guess I’ll go looking for him.” Hedwig hooted again, and fluttered back to her perch. Ginny bit her lip and crinkled her nose in concentration. If I were Harry, where would I be now? I’d be looking for help in preparing for my new job. She looked at the clock. Remus is at work, so… Closing her eyes in concentration, Ginny Apparated to the Haven.

Sure enough, Harry and Hermione were sitting at the kitchen table with books and parchment covering the space between them. Hermione was bouncing Charlie on her knee, and Harry had a piece of parchment clenched between his teeth, a quill behind one ear, and he was using his hands to search the table for something.

“Hi Ginny!” Hermione said. “Pull up a chair.”

Harry looked over at her, and gave her what appeared to be a smile around the parchment in his mouth, mumbled what might have been “Hi Gin” and then turned back to his search, muttering incoherently.

“Hi,” Ginny said, giggling a little. Harry looked so cute just then; all she wanted to do was muss his hair a little, and give him a big kiss. “How long has he been like this?” she asked Hermione.

“Since he got here at half-past seven. It’s a good thing I was up with Charlie,” she said glaring at Harry. “I’m not sure he slept a wink all night.”

“Which one? Charlie or Harry?”

Finally Harry found what he was looking for, and pulled it out. He then took the parchment out from between his teeth. “She means me. I was too excited,” he said. “I spent most of the night flipping through books, looking for good source material. I tore apart the storage room in my flat.”

Ginny shook her head and smiled at him. He grinned back at her, eyes sparkling.

Hermione cleared her throat. “Right…should I leave you two alone?” she said in a bemused tone.

Ginny and Harry blushed, but Harry leaned over and gave Ginny a quick kiss on the cheek before returning to his notes. “McGonagall said the book list is due next week. What do you think of this list so far?” Harry asked, passing the bitten piece of parchment to the women.

“Harry, my son chews on enough stuff as it is. Do you think you can maybe not…?” Hermione gestured to the teeth marks on the parchment.

“Right.” Harry blushed again.

Ginny scanned down the list of books Harry had picked out. The list was marked with stars and crossed out titles.

“You’re going to use Bill’s book?” Ginny asked in surprise.

Her brother Bill had penned a short work during the war called, Curses of the Death Eaters: A Complete Guide to Defence. The work had sold rapidly, but many people found the book too complex to fully understand. Bill had quite outdone himself in the depth of magical analysis the work contained.

“I was thinking of using it for my seventh years,” Harry admitted.

“It’s a little bit of a stretch, even for seventh years, but no one should be able to impress upon them how important this work is than you, Harry,” Hermione said.

“I toyed with the idea of assigning a Lockhart book to the first years,” Harry confided. “Even though he never actually performed any of those feats, they were pretty impressive. But then I decided it just wasn’t worth the effort. And besides, I didn’t want to give him any more royalties. Although from what I understand, his once considerable fortune is almost gone, for treatments at St. Mungo’s.”

“Did they ever reverse any of the damage?” Ginny asked.

“Not really,” Harry said. “He’d gotten himself so worked up it’s likely that if the spell had worked on us, Ron and I wouldn’t have even remembered our own names. That was one hell of an Obliviate spell.” He shifted a few more pages. “Where did I put that page with assignment suggestions on it?”

“Over here,” Hermione pulled out a page with her free hand and handed it across. Charlie had fallen asleep, resting his head against Hermione’s chest. She rocked him gently as she sat.

“Thanks.”

“Are you going to keep your flat?” Ginny asked. “Or are you going to move into Hogwarts?”

Harry shrugged. “No sense in keeping the flat,” he said. “I’ll just move in up there. Besides,” he grinned predatorily. “With the Marauder’s Map, doing rounds will be a cinch.”

Ginny gave him a half glare. “You know, I don’t think Sirius or your father would approve of that particular use of the map.”

Harry laughed. “Well of course, but I’m only going to use it to catch Slytherins.” He paused. “I should also clean out the broom shed.” Harry commented. “Maybe an anonymous benefactor will donate a set of Firebolt V’s to the Gryffindor Quidditch team.”

“Harry!” Ginny laughed.

“You’re supposed to be impartial, unless you’re a head of house,” Hermione commented.

“I know, I know,” Harry laughed. “And you get to have that fun now,” Harry grumped.

“For what its worth, Harry, you’d probably be a better head of house than me anyway.” Hermione admitted. “You have more of a partisan personality.”

“I’m sure you do a fine job, Hermione.” Harry looked at another book. “Hmm…where do you suppose I get a Boggart?” Harry wondered.

“Ask Remus,” Ginny suggested. “Since he’s the one who had one in the first place.”

“Right.” Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me.”

Hermione nodded. “It took me most of the summer to figure out what I was doing my first year,” she commented. “But don’t worry, Harry, you’re going to do just fine.”

“If nothing else, you can just drill them on defensive spells like you did with the D.A.” Ginny added.

Harry nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. “That’s true.” He pulled out a sheet of parchment, which Ginny could see was labelled, ‘Things to Do’. “I need to contact my landlord, tell him I’m leaving. I should probably start packing now, though.”

“I can help you pack, Harry,” Ginny offered.

“Really?” Harry perked up. “I could really use a hand. If you help me, I’ll buy you dinner.”

Ginny laughed. “You already bought me dinner, Harry.”

“That doesn’t count, that was a date,” Harry stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, this would be payment for your help.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Whatever makes you happy, Harry.”

“You make me happy,” Harry said immediately, before he could catch himself. Ginny felt the heat rise in her face as she blushed to crimson.

“Well, on that note, I think I’ll just go put Charlie down for his nap,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll just leave you two alone,” she stated theatrically. She left, and Harry scooted his chair closer to Ginny’s.

“I meant that, you know,” Harry said.

“I know you did,” Ginny leaned her head on Harry’s shoulder. “I’ve told you before; you’re a terrible liar, so I know you mean everything you say.”

“Thanks, er, I think.” Harry said, tentatively putting his arm around her and holding her tight. “We should go out again sometime,” he suggested. “And I don’t just mean when I buy you dinner for helping me move.”

“I was thinking…erm…I thought I might cook you dinner, at my place,” Ginny suggested carefully.

“That sounds great, Gin. When?”

“Any day, I guess,” Ginny gave a little shrug. “I mean, it’s not like I’ve got any other plans.”

“How about tomorrow?” Harry suggested.

“Around six?”

“I’ll be there,” Harry promised, giving her shoulder a pat. “What’s on the menu?”

“Erm…what would you like?” she asked. This wasn’t a good idea. I have no idea what to make him. Ginny was starting to silently panic.

“Oh, I don’t know Ginny, anything is fine. If you make it, I’m sure it will be good.”

Now I know this wasn’t a good idea. “A…a…are you sure?”

“Sure! Surprise me.”

Oh Merlin, help!

Just then, Hermione returned. “Charlie’s in his cot, at least for now.” Hermione said, tiredly. “Lately, I’ve been having trouble getting him down.” She sank into the kitchen chair. “Oh, you know what else you should do, Harry? You should check out your classroom. You need to make sure you have a good environment to work in. McGonagall taught me a spell to put a couple extra windows in my classroom. More sunshine helps, I think. And you’ll probably want to put one in your office too, if you have an outside wall. Amos blocked one up, I think, because he complained about the draft.”

“Kind of him,” Harry said, chuckling.

“The man was always cold,” Hermione said. “It was rather tiring after a while to listen to his constant whining.” She humphed self-righteously and crossed her arms.

“You’ll have to teach me the spell,” Harry said, pulling the quill from behind his ear and scratching a note on a slip of parchment. “I may want to put extra windows in my quarters as well.”

Hermione nodded.

“Oh, look!” Ginny exclaimed, pointing.

A school post owl had appeared in the window, and was waiting patiently for the letter to be removed. Ginny got up, untied it, and handed it across the cluttered table. “It’s for you, Harry.”

Harry opened it and read it aloud. “Professor Potter,” Harry grinned at that, and the others chuckled, “I have arranged for the fireplaces in your rooms to be registered in your name. You are now free to use them at any time. You will also find the key to school broom shed, and the Quidditch supply closet on your desk when you arrive. You may begin to move in and arrange your classroom any time. I’m very pleased you’ll be joining us this year. M. McGonagall, Headmistress.”

Ginny gave a little laugh, and shook her head. “Professor Potter. It does have a nice ring to it.”

“Ron was so flabbergasted, Harry. It’s all he could talk about last night before we went to bed,” Hermione was telling him. “He was certain you’d play Quidditch.”

Harry grinned. “Well, maybe I’ll start a faculty team, and we’ll play the Quidditch cup winner every year in an exhibition match.”

Hermione and Ginny laughed. “Can you imagine McGonagall on a broom?” Hermione chuckled.

“No, Binns…” Ginny snorted.

“Oh Merlin, Hagrid…” Hermione gasped.

Harry humphed. “I thought it was an interesting idea.” He folded the letter. “Who’s up for taking a jaunt up to my new office and classroom?”

Just then, Charlie’s wailing could be heard from upstairs. Hermione gave a heavy sigh. “I’d better go see what he wants.”

Harry jumped up. “I’ll go. I’ll bet he wants his Uncle Harry.”

Ginny and Hermione looked at him with matched expressions of polite disbelief on their faces, with their eyebrows around their hairlines. Harry stuck his tongue out at both of them, and marched off up the stairs.

Entering the blue-painted nursery, Harry gently lifted the squalling infant out of his cot. “There, there,” he cooed, “it’s okay, Uncle Harry’s got you.” Immediately, Harry wondered when he had turned into a complete sap. I’m cooing. Now there’s something I never thought I’d do. Of course, this is as close as I’ve ever gotten to having one of my own. Gently, instinctively, Harry began rocking on the balls of his feet, trying to calm Charlie, who was red-faced and hiccupping with sobs. “Shhhhh…” Harry rubbed the baby’s back, as he’d been instructed to when holding Fred’s daughters for the first time. “Come on now,” Harry coaxed. “What’s all the fuss for, huh?” Harry sat down in the rocker, and took Charlie down off his shoulder and cradled him in his lap. Charlie’s crying began to slow down, as he curled against Harry’s chest. Harry tickled Charlie’s stomach, and the baby grabbed tight onto one of Harry’s fingers. Harry allowed him to draw it into his mouth and suck on it. “There you go, little one? Feel better? Yeah, I bet you do.”

-- -- -- --

No sooner had Harry disappeared up the stairs than Ginny and Hermione quietly followed behind him. They watched from the doorway as Harry lifted Charlie out and began rocking him, and Hermione had to suppress a chuckle as Charlie began gumming Harry’s shoulder, spreading drool over his shirt before Harry went and sat down with him in the rocker.

For her part, Ginny’s heart was pounding in her chest. Watching Harry gently rock Charlie was like having someone strum a tune on her heartstrings. He was so sweet and gentle, as he sat down in the chair spoke gently to the baby. How did I ever convince myself that I could live without him? She asked herself. It was all she could do to keep herself from grabbing him, kissing him silly, telling him you, me, kids, right now, and dragging him off.

“And your mom and your Aunt Ginny think I don’t know they’re standing in the doorway, but we know better, don’t we big fellow?” Harry said to the baby, a grin spreading across this face. “I don’t think they trust me. What do you think?” Harry shook his head. “Asleep. Figures, and just when I need back up too. Just like his father.” Harry looked up to grin at Hermione and Ginny. “Yes?” he asked sweetly. “Did you two want something?”

Hermione was struggling not to laugh. “No, Harry, you’re doing just fine.”

“What about you, Gin? You’re looking a little strange there.”

“What...erm…no, I’m fine,” Ginny said hurriedly, feeling a blush creep up her face.

Harry rose and walked over to them, carrying Charlie. “Here Harry,” Hermione said, waving her wand. The drool spots on his shirt vanished. “That’s better.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, smiling at her. “What do you say to making a short trip up to Hogwarts to visit Professor Potter’s new place?”

“That sounds great,” Ginny agreed immediately.

“I don’t know,” Hermione began warily. “We just got him to sleep.”

“Oh, it’ll be all right,” Ginny said. “Mum says we used to sleep through Floo trips all the time.”

Hermione shrugged. “I suppose. We’ve got some time before he’s hungry again anyway.” She took Charlie from Harry gently, and proceeded to swaddle him up in a blanket. They all went back downstairs to the fireplace and Harry took the Floo powder and tossed a pinch in the fire.

“Professor Potter’s office!” he called out. A moment’s disorientation later, he found himself standing in a familiar room at Hogwarts. Cautiously, he stepped out of the fireplace. The room was eerily empty, but the cabinet where Remus had kept the Boggart was still there, and the desk where he had written letters for Lockhart. The chair was the same one he’d used for detention for Umbridge. Sure enough the keys were on his desk. The desk was empty, with the drawers hanging ajar. Ginny Flooed in behind him, and finally Hermione with Charlie. They all stood around the office, soaking up their own memories. It was a little overwhelming for Harry to realize that this space was now his. “Was it like this for you?” he asked Hermione, his throat unreasonably thick.

Hermione nodded. “The first time I went into McGonagall’s empty office, I cried. I couldn’t believe it was mine now.”

Harry opened the door that led to the classroom, and looked down over the rail at the empty chairs and the barren walls of the classroom. He thought he had an idea about rearranging the desks. Ginny came up next to him and leaned on his shoulder. He put his arm around her without even thinking.

“I think I want to rearrange the desks so they’re in a horseshoe shape,” Harry said thoughtfully. “So everyone can see each other, and see the centre of the room clearly. I want to do a lot of demonstrations, and the like.”

“That sounds like a good idea, Harry,” Ginny agreed.

“Students! Students in the castle, in the summertime!” Peeves floated in. “You’re in trouble!” he cackled.

Harry turned to face the poltergeist. He had to establish dominance now. “I’m not a student anymore, Peeves. I haven’t been a student for three years. I’m a professor now. And you will behave yourself.”

“Rotter Potter is a professor now?” Peeves began to spin flips. “The fun to be had this fall,” he cackled.

“You will do nothing of the sort, Peeves,” Harry said firmly. “Or else.” Harry drew his wand, but Peeves continued to cackle. “Spiritus Solidamentum!” Harry called out, and blue light shot out from Harry’s wand. Peeves seemed to stumble a little, and then ran into a wall. “Oof!” Peeves shrieked in horror “Ackkk! Rotter Potter has made me solid!” Peeves seemed to stumble again. “I can’t go invisible!”

“I suggest you leave. It will wear off eventually.” Harry pointed at the door. “Don’t be interrupting my classes, Peeves, or else. And don’t tell anyone what I’ve done, or I’ll make it permanent.”

“Yes, Professor Potter,” the poltergeist muttered, and floated out through the door.

“Where did you learn that spell, Harry?” Hermione asked. “And why didn’t you teach it to me?”

“I read about it in a book of counter curses. And I was saving it. I was going to give it to you for Christmas, but now the secret’s out. You can use it, if you have to, but I think it will give my reputation with the students an extra air of mystery if I’m the only teacher Peeves will steer clear of,” Harry said, grinning. “Everyone will wonder, ‘What did Professor Potter do to Peeves? He never goes near his class.’”

“You’re awful, Harry.” Ginny laughed. Harry put his wand away.

“Did I hear Peeves caterwauling about a Professor Potter?” a familiar voice called from above them.

“Sir Nicholas! Good to see you,” Harry said, delighted, as they all looked up.

“And you as well, Harry,” Nearly Headless Nick replied, floating down to hover next to Harry. “It’s good to see you back at Hogwarts. I must say you’ll be an improvement over our last Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. The man was quite surly. And of course, he was an American, and he’d never been to Hogwarts before, so he did not have a true appreciation for our traditions here. He actually suggested that we do away with the House Cup. Can you imagine?” Nick clicked his tongue in exasperation. He looked over at Hermione. “And what have we here, Professor Weasley? The next Weasley head boy?” The ghost floated over and smiled at Charlie who was sound asleep.

“We’ll see about that,” Hermione laughed. “For now, I’ll settle for him sleeping through the night.”

“What did you name him?” Nick asked.

“Charles Albus Weasley.”

“A wonderful name,” Nick said. “They would both be quite honoured, I believe.” Nick turned back to Harry. “So you’re here checking out the premises, Harry?”

“Yes. McGonagall’s had the Floo registered in my name already.”

“Excellent. And you’ve inspected your quarters?”

“Hadn’t gotten there quite yet,” Harry admitted. “McGonagall took me on the whirlwind tour the day she hired me, but I’m back for a closer look. Checking out my quarters was the next stop.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then.” Nick nodded. “Nice to see you as well, Miss Weasley. Will we be seeing much of you now that Professor Potter is here at Hogwarts?”

“I’d venture to say that’ll probably be a yes.” Ginny replied, catching Harry’s eye.

“Excellent. We always said that you two looked good together.”

“Oh? Who?”

“Well, you know, myself, the Grey Lady, the Fat Lady in the Gryffindor portrait. The people you tend to forget about.”

Harry nodded, suddenly embarrassed at the thought of paintings and ghosts discussing his love life. “C’mon Ginny.”

They went back through the office, and went into the private quarters behind the office. They were dusty from lack of use over the summer. There was a large table, and several windows looking out over the castle courtyard and the fireplace; a fairly large bathroom, with a tub, rather than a shower; the bedroom was large as well, with an up-sized version of the student’s four posters dominating the centre of the room. Everything was bare now, but Harry began to imagine how it would look when he finished, and realized it could be quite cosy.

“These are nice, Harry. I rarely use my quarters, although I’ve stayed there once or twice when Ron was away,” Hermione said. “Mainly I use them to escape from students to eat lunch alone, or what not.”

Charlie chose that moment to begin to fuss. “I should really get him back,” Hermione sighed.

“I’m going to wander over to the broom shed,” Harry said. “I’ll be along in a bit.”

“I’ll come with you,” Ginny offered.

“I’d like that.” Harry said. Hermione Flooed back to the Haven from the fireplace in his rooms, and then he offered Ginny his arm. They strolled about the castle, arm and arm, hand in hand.

“This is nice,” Ginny sighed, letting the breeze play with her hair. “Too bad you were never like this in school. I could have liked having a boyfriend while I was at Hogwarts.”

“Well, you’re here now. And you have a boyfriend,” he said, leaning down to kiss her lightly.

“This doesn’t count,” Ginny said, smiling anyway.

Harry laughed, and pulled out the key, opening the broom shed. He took a look around. The old school brooms were there, hanging on their racks. The Quidditch supplies were kept under lock and key somewhere in the castle. Students didn’t know where, to prevent tampering. Harry was going to have to ask McGonagall, since at the moment, he didn’t even know. The brooms were in rough shape, old Cleansweaps that were older than most of the brooms than the Weasleys had ever owned. Someone would have to remedy this situation, Harry thought. He closed the door, and turned back toward Ginny.

“They aren’t any better than they were when we started school,” Harry said, putting his arm around Ginny’s waist. She put her head on his shoulder.

“What did you expect?”

“Maybe they got new ones in the three years we’ve been gone?” Harry asked hopefully.

Ginny shook her head. “You’ve got hopes Harry. They’ve had to spend their money rebuilding sections of the castle.”

Harry nodded. “I know.” He sighed deeply. His memory of the day he defeated Voldemort was spotty at best, but he remembered seeing the massive damage to the castle, particularly near the East Wing, where the entire roof had been destroyed. He shook his head, and steered Ginny onto the grass of the Quidditch pitch.

Ginny was surprised at how much of the day was gone already. The sun had passed over mid-day long ago, and was on its way down the western sky, heading toward the ridge behind the Forbidden Forest. “Such a wonderful view,” she said, looking out over the spectator towers.

“Mmm,” Harry replied, looking down at her.

“Harry! You’re not looking,” Ginny slapped his arm gently, and she felt a blush creeping up her face, feeling a little embarrassed at his scrutiny.

“Yes, I am. I see a beautiful view right here.”

“Harry!” She blushed deeper. He smiled at her, and leaned down and kissed her soundly.

She reeled in surprise, but then tangled her hands in his hair and kissed him back. Ginny lost track of how long they stood there in the centre of the Quidditch pitch, but the wind was colder, and the sun was lower in the sky. Her lips were tingling, and her whole body was on fire.

“You look cold,” Harry said his voice a little husky from a lack of oxygen. “Let’s head back.”

“Okay,” she whispered breathlessly. She hung onto his hand and leaned heavily into his shoulder, as she wasn’t sure her legs would support her just yet. A few minutes later, they were back in castle. “So when do you want to help me move?” Harry asked, finally, as they climbed the stairs towards his office.

“Any time,” she said. “Except tomorrow.”

Harry grinned. “Okay, fair enough. How about this weekend? I think I’m going to be busy getting my curriculum together this week, but I’ll be ready to have a break this weekend.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Harry said as the entered his classroom.

“Me, too.”

“Ginny…” Harry hesitated a moment.

“Yes, Harry?” Ginny prompted.

“I know that packing and cleaning isn’t exactly a date, so I was thinking, maybe Sunday afternoon, for lunch, maybe we could go on a picnic?”

“Harry! That sounds wonderful!” Ginny exclaimed. “I’d like that very much.”

“Really?” Harry sounded excited.

“Yes, really. I’d be delighted to go with you on a picnic.” They had reached Harry’s office now, and were standing in front of the fireplace.

“Good,” Harry said, giving her hand a little squeeze.

“You’re such a sweetheart, Harry.”

He blushed. “Thanks, Gin.” He kissed her softly. “I’m going to head back to my place, and catch some TV, and then head to bed. I’m going to busy tomorrow, before I come over for dinner.”

“Okay.” Ask him if you can come over, ask him if you can come over ask him if you can… “Harry…”

“Hmm?” Harry asked, reaching for the Floo powder.

“Nothing…” she chickened out.

“You go first,” Harry said. “You going to the Burrow, or are you going home?”

“The Burrow,” she sighed.

“All right,” Harry said, and swept her up in a last kiss. “Goodnight, Ginny. Floo me when you get home?” he asked.

“Sure, Harry,” she replied, surprised. “Why?”

“I worry.”

“You’re very cute.”

“You’re cuter.”

She shook her head. “Impossible man.” He grinned and shrugged.

“I’ll talk to you later then.”

She nodded and then stepped into the fireplace “The Burrow!” she called out. She was gone, then he stepped in and Flooed to his own place. It was quiet, and he wondered why he hadn’t invited Ginny over to watch TV. He sighed. There would be a couple more opportunities to do that before he moved out. He turned on the telly, and was flipping back and forth between the BBC evening newscast and reruns of the “Flying Circus” when Ginny Flooed to say she was home.

“Glad you’re safe,” Harry said. “Good night and sweet dreams.”

“Of you?” She smirked.

“Why not?” he asked, with his own smirk. “I’m your boyfriend, and I’m reasonably good looking.”

“You’re such a man.” She humphed, but smiled anyway. “Good night, Harry.”

“Night, Gin.”

“Sleep well,”

“You too.”

And she was gone. Harry killed the telly, and crashed into bed.

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