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These Aren’t the Secrets You’re Looking For

A/N: Hello all. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?

I got coaxed out of retirement by a couple of good friends, specifically Katieay, who encouraged me to try a LJ fic exchange, TakingitinTurns.

I had a lot of fun writing this for LadyWhizBee, and it was fun to get back into things after a long time. I mentioned it to my dear old friend Arnel the other day, and she convinced me to let her post it here.

Special thanks to Katieay, who beta’ed this the first time around for the exchange, and for Arnel, who convinced me to post.

I’m not sure how often I’ll get around to posting fic, but who knows! I hope you enjoy this brief interlude. The exchange’s theme this year was “keeping secrets”.

-- -- -- --

Ron was standing there, looking totally gobsmacked, still holding his wand as if he expected to be attacked.

George was laughing so hard, he’d fallen off his chair, Ginny and Hermione were roaring, and even Mrs. Weasley looked like she was smiling slightly.

“You two!” Ron sputtered finally, pointing. “This is all your fault!”

There was more laughter.  “I’m not sure how you came to that conclusion, Ron,” Ginny chuckled. “Seems to me this is all your own doing.”

“But… but…”

“Ginny’s right, Ron. You did start it,” Hermione said. “Remember? You’re the one who got all paranoid in the first place…”

-- -- -- --

About Two Weeks Earlier

Neville Longbottom set his share of the drinks down on the table, while his girlfriend, Hannah, brought the rest to the table. Hermione and Luna grabbed for theirs, thanking Neville as he sat down. Ron left his untouched, looking grumpy. Neville took his from Hannah and they sat down. Neville looked around the table.

“Okay,” he said, into a silent space in the conversation. “Someone want to explain to me why we’re all here?” he asked. “Where are Harry and Ginny? Shouldn’t they be here?”

Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes. “Ask my paranoid git of a boyfriend,” she declared giving Ron a look. “He’s the one who called this meeting,” she said.

Everyone’s eyes swivelled to Ron. “There’s something going on with Harry and Ginny,” Ron announced without preamble. “We need to figure out what it is.”

Everyone at the table, even Luna, groaned.

“Ron, not this again,” Hermione said exasperatedly. “Will you just get over the fact that your sister and your best mate are hopelessly in love with each other?”

“They’re hiding something!” Ron protested. “I can tell. You know how Harry gets when he’s hiding something… his eyes drop and he goes all evasive and stuff.”

Hermione appeared to be trying to pretend she wasn’t impressed with this observation, and Neville couldn’t blame her. Ron had never been one to pick up on non-verbal clues before now. “Really?” she said.

“Yeah,” Ron said, ears going slightly pink. “We’ve been practicing interrogation techniques as part of our training… I’ve… learned to notice these things.”

Hermione did look impressed now, but she shook her head. “So what if they are hiding something?” she said. “What business is it of yours?”

“Well… what if… what if they run off somewhere?” Ron said, grasping at a sudden thought. “What we will tell Mum?”

“Tell Mum what?” an amused voice said from behind Neville. They all turned and saw Ginny standing there, arm around Harry’s waist, each holding a mug of mead.

“Did I miss a memo?” Harry asked, a smile playing on his face as he scanned the table. “Hello, Neville, Hannah, Luna.” Harry flicked his wand and two more chairs popped up at the table.  Ginny and Harry sat down.

“Tell Mum what, Ron?” Ginny persisted, looking at her brother over her mug.

Ron’s ears turned red and he stammered. “Nothin’,” he managed, very lamely.

“So how come Ginny and I didn’t get invited to this shindig?” Harry asked, changing the subject and letting Ron off one hook and onto another.

“We… erm… just happened to meet up here,” Hermione provided. “It was a coincidence.”

“Well, then,” said Harry, taking a big swig on his mead. “good thing we happened along too!”

“So, how have you been, Neville? We don’t see much of you these days down here in London,” Ginny asked.

The conversation turned general for a while, before Neville decided to give Ron’s theory a shot. “So, Harry, what have you and Ginny been up to lately?”

Harry’s eyes dropped, and he shifted in his seat. “Oh, a little bit of this, little bit of that. Ron and I are keeping pretty busy with the office.”

Neville noticed that Harry had neatly deflected the question about him and Ginny to answering one about him and Ron. Ginny was hiding a smirk behind her mead glass, and Hermione raised an eyebrow, glancing quickly between Ron and Harry.

Maybe Harry and Ginny were hiding something, but Neville was sure whatever it was, they had a good reason to.

-- -- -- --

“Ron’s suspicious,” Harry said later that evening as he and Ginny made their way back to the flat Harry rented on Baker Street.

Ginny had introduced Harry to detective stories after the war, and Harry found that he devoured them. She had an entire collection of well thumbed Agatha Christie in her room, and he had progress from there to Sir Arthur. When Harry had been shown the flat on Baker Street by his real estate agent, there really hadn’t been any question that he’d take it, even if it wasn’t anywhere near 221. Just being able to say, ‘I’m going to Baker Street,’ made Harry grin a little.

“Really, Sherlock? What tipped you off?” Ginny said sarcastically, swinging Harry’s hand in hers and snorting.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Harry said, chuckling. “That little gathering at the Leaky Cauldron had all the earmarks of a ‘council of war’.”

“I can almost hear him,” Ginny said. “’There’s something wrong with Harry and Ginny,’” she said, imitating her brother’s voice. They turned into Harry’s building. He looked both ways in the lobby, and seeing no one, tapped his wand on the mailboxes, and his lock clicked open. He removed his mail… two bills and an advertisement from a local car dealership. He pocketed it and they continued up to the third floor flat. Harry let himself in with his wand, and Ginny flopped onto the sofa, while Harry put his mail on the kitchen counter and opened the refrigerator.

“Butterbeer?” Harry asked Ginny.

“Nah,” Ginny replied. “I should be getting back to Mum and Dad’s soon. They’ll start thinking you’ve dragged me back here for immoral purposes.” She giggled.

Harry chuckled, moving Ginny’s feet, sitting down on the sofa and putting them into his lap. He began massaging her calves. Ginny moaned appreciatively, and Harry shifted a little. “Much more of that Miss Ginny, and we’ll be discussing those immoral purposes you keep hinting about,” Harry warned her.

Ginny giggled. “Keep that up, and I’ll be the one doing the explaining. That feels really good. I’m really sore.”

Harry nodded. “I can only imagine.”

“How long do you figure we can keep this from prying eyes?” Ginny asked, looking up at Harry.

Harry shrugged. “I dunno. If they really can keep the press away, then we’ve got a chance, but the moment a reporter gets in, it’s all over.”

“Well, if you can’t get in to watch, I doubt reporters will,” Ginny said, giggling a little. “I know you tried.”

Harry grimaced. He still had bruises from his attempt. The security had apparently gone beyond simple watchfulness, as he’d discovered to his chagrin, trying to sneak in under the Invisibility Cloak. “You have a point there.”

Ginny glanced at the clock on the wall. “Come give me a kiss, and then I’ll go,” Ginny said. “Don’t want to linger too long, or Mum might decide to Floo.”

Harry leaned over and gave Ginny a kiss, but if Ginny was hoping that it would make him feel more like letting her go, she was dead wrong on that point. Finally, and with effort, she pulled away from him. Somehow, they had wound up lying side by side on the narrow sofa, nearly on top of one another. Her face was flushed and her lips were swollen. “That’s enough of that, Mr. Potter,” she said breathily.

“Awww,” Harry said, grumpily as she disentangled herself from his arms and rose from the sofa.

“I’ve got to get a good night’s sleep for tomorrow. Another busy day.”

“How long do you reckon it’ll be before one set of people you’ve told you’re with another set of people start talking to each other and figure out you’re in neither place?” Harry asked.

“A few more days, anyway. We should know something by next week anyway, and then I’ll tell them, one way or the other.” Ginny was standing by the fireplace now, opening his small jar of Floo powder. “You need more, Harry. How did you use so much?”

“Spilled it,” Harry admitted. “And couldn’t quite charm it all back in. It fell off the mantel when I tried to do a dusting charm.”

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. “You need a good wife to set your housecleaning straight, Harry,” she said.

“I only know one applicant I’m interested in for that job, and last I checked, she’s not quite interested yet,” Harry said, humorously.

“Not yet,” Ginny said, smiling at him. “Let me get at least a year out of school first, Harry. You’re only 19, I’m only 18… or well, I will be in a month. We’re still a little young for that.”

“As long as we’re clear that the vacancy will remain unfilled until you’re ready, I’m okay with that,” Harry said, rising from the sofa and giving her a hug.

“Perfectly,” Ginny said, standing on tip-toe to kiss him on the cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Of course,” Harry replied.

“Love you, Harry.” She smiled at him, tossing powder in the fire.

“Love you too, Ginny,” he replied, as she stepped into the fire and spun away to The Burrow.

-- -- -- --

Two evenings later, Ginny hummed to herself as she stepped upstairs to her room after seeing Harry off for the evening. Harry had come for dinner, and just left to go back to his flat. Ginny opened the small purse Harry had charmed for her, and pulled out the Firebolt that he had purchased for her from within the tiny bag.

“What are you doing with that?” a voice asked, and Ginny jumped. Hermione was sitting on the bed, holding a book and looking at her suspiciously.

“Nothing!” Ginny protested immediately, setting the broom against the wall. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. Ron’s driving me nuts,” Hermione said. “He’s convinced that you and Harry are hiding something.”

Ginny snorted, and turned away.

“Are you and Harry hiding something?” Hermione asked sharply. “And what are you doing with that broomstick anyway? Where have you been the last few days?”

“What are you, the Inquisitorial Squad?” Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow. “Have I been charged with a crime, Miss Magical Law Enforcement?”

Hermione glared at Ginny. “I’m not your brothers, Ginny. I’m not intimidated by questions thrown back at me. I also know those aren’t answers.”

Ginny winced inwardly. Those tactics did have a tendency to distract her brothers, although Ron’s Auror training had been making it more difficult. “I fancied a fly with Harry earlier,” Ginny explained. “We went for a ride together.”

“And you needed to hide your broom in a handbag?” Hermione looked sceptical.

Ginny shrugged. “So, what, are you here on Ron’s orders to interrogate me?” Ginny asked, sitting down next to Hermione on the bed.

“Not exactly,” Hermione began. “I will admit, there are some strange things going on,” she said. “I didn’t believe Ron at first, but the coincidences are starting to stack up.”

Ginny’s heart picked up its pace a little. “Like what?”

“Well, we can start with Harry’s evasion a few nights ago. Then your mysterious absence the last several days. The clock downstairs says you’re “At Work” but you’re not with George at the shop.”

Ginny thought fast. “What do you mean?”

“George never mentioned you working there,” Hermione said. “I would have though he would have mentioned it.”

Ah ha! Ginny thought. Hermione hadn’t actually been to the shop… yet. She could fake this for a little longer. “It must have just slipped his mind. Everything’s so busy right now. You know how it is.” Ginny waved airily.

Hermione looked at Ginny suspiciously, but didn’t respond to this. “So nothing’s going on with you and Harry?”

“Define ‘going on’,” Ginny suggested. “I mean, because, if you’re talking about the amazing way he kisses…” Ginny trailed off, grinning.

Hermione glared at her. “Don’t try and distract me,” Hermione ordered. “You may be able to scare off your brother with talk like that, but I’m immune. I don’t care that you and Harry are snogging each other silly… of course, if you’re shagging, that would certainly qualify as ‘going on.’ I wouldn’t care if you are, but that might explain why you’d be reluctant to talk about it…”

Ginny laughed. “No, Hermione, we’re not shagging. Not yet, anyway. Mum Floos Harry’s flat if I’m there for more than fifteen minutes, and you know that Harry’s too busy at the Ministry to sneak off during the day.” Which wasn’t entirely true…Harry had sneaked off to see her several times this week, but it certainly wasn’t to shag.

Hermione pursed her lips. “This is true.” She sighed. “So nothing’s going on?”

Ginny laughed. “No, Hermione. Now, go tell my brother all is right with the world, okay? I’ve had a long day, and I want to get ready for bed.”

Hermione nodded. “Goodnight, Ginny,” she said, rising from the bed.

“Goodnight, Hermione,” Ginny replied, and Hermione Disapparated.

Ginny sighed and flopped backward onto her pillows. Her brother was a pain in the arse.

-- -- -- --

Harry’d been avoiding Ron for most of the week, but towards the end, Ron finally cornered Harry alone in his cubicle at the end of a workday.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Ron accused unceremoniously.

“So?” Harry said, not looking up from his paperwork. “I’ve been busy.”

“What’s going on with you and my sister?” Ron asked bluntly.

“What do you think is going on with me and your sister?”

Ron looked at him warily. “I don’t really like to think about it, honestly. But something odd is going on with you two. You’re hiding something.”

“Really?” Harry looked up in surprise. “Gee, we must be doing an awfully good job. I wasn’t even aware we were hiding it. What do you suppose it is, Ron?”

Ron reached over and swatted the back of Harry’s head. “Don’t get cheeky with me, Potter.”

Harry glared at Ron over the top of his glasses. “Don’t make me hurt you, Weasley.”

Ron snorted. “What are you going to do about it?”

Harry looked at him. “Oh, I could stop by the shop on the way home, I’m sure George could fix me up with all kinds of things to make your life absolute misery.”

Ron paled a little at the thought of this possibility.

“Or, I could tell Ginny that you’ve been a prat, and let her handle it…”

“Hey!” Ron exclaimed. “That’s not fair…”

“Or…” Harry cut across him, “…I could tell Hermione…”

“Harry!” Ron protested loudly. “That’s not…” Ron sputtered to a halt, glaring at Harry.

“You were saying?” Harry prompted.

With effort, Ron drew himself back to the topic. “What’s going on with my sister?”

“What makes you think anything’s going on?” Harry asked innocently.

“You two have been acting really funny lately,” Ron accused. “I think you’re hiding something.”

“And what on earth do we have to hide?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ron looked like he’d swallowed something sour, and Harry watched him, interested to know what Ron had percolating in that suspicious mind of his. “You aren’t going to scandalize Mum by running off and eloping, are you? I swear to God, Harry, you deny her her only daughter’s wedding, and there’ll be Hell to pay.”

Harry thought fast, inwardly grinning. They could play this to their advantage. “What makes you think we’d do that?” Harry said, allowing his voice to rise a few notes.

Ron gave him a look. “Because it’s what you’d do,” he said. “If it meant avoiding the humongous blow-up, out of control circus event your wedding is bound to be as the Man Who Lived Twice.”

Harry had to admit, Ron had a very good point there. But he doubted that, when the time came, he would be allowed to even consider the possibility. “Well, we’re not,” Harry said, in what he hoped was an unconvincing tone. He signed his name to the report he was finishing with a flourish and rose from his desk. “I have to take this up to Kilborn,” he said, and brushed past Ron on his way out of the cubicle.

-- -- -- --

When Harry told Ginny that evening about Ron’s suspicion, Ginny nearly fell off the sofa laughing.  “The great ruddy prat actually thinks we’re planning to run off and elope?” she roared with laughter.

“I did a few things to encourage this suspicion,” Harry said, chuckling. “I thought it might make a good red herring.”

“Oh, certainly,” Ginny responded immediately. “And I fully intend to lead him on a merry chase.”

Over the course of the next several days, Ginny delighted in pretending to slip up in front of Ron, suggesting that Harry and Ginny were making plans to travel, that their destination was somewhere warm and tropical, or that they needed to “finish paperwork”, or “pick up the stuff” in Diagon Alley.

Ron became darker and grumpier as the week progressed, and Harry went ahead with avoiding him if at all possible, and not responding when Ron tried to question him. Ginny reported that Hermione kept popping up at odd times, trying to suss more info from her. Ginny said Hermione suspected that they were trying to take the mickey out of Ron, but couldn’t figure out what they were actually hiding.

Molly had a standing dinner invitation for Saturday nights at The Burrow, and so there was bound to be some kind of confrontation there, as all four of them would be present.

Harry was concerned that it would be a disaster, until Ginny returned Thursday afternoon with a beaming smile.

“Well, I guess that solves that problem,” Harry said. “Ready for tomorrow then?”

“You bet, Harry,” she grinned. “You ready for the final phase?”

-- -- -- --

Harry and Ginny showed up to The Burrow a little late, together. On purpose. Ron and Hermione were there, Ron looked nearly thunderous, and Hermione was hissing at him rapidly. He seemed to be glaring at Harry and Ginny’s linked hands. Harry couldn’t help but let a little smirk play across his face.

Molly didn’t seem to notice the tension that was developing in the garden, listening instead to George regaling her with stories from the shop. Arthur seemed to note something off, but didn’t choose to comment on it.

Dinner progressed naturally, without any outbursts.

Toward the very end, Harry caught Ginny’s eye and she nodded. Harry cleared his throat. “Ginny has an announcement to make,” Harry said.

“I knew it,” Ron roared, jumping to his feet and knocking over his chair. “You… you…” he spluttered, and somehow he had his wand out, levelled at Harry. “I told you…”

“Ron!” Hermione and Mrs. Weasley exclaimed at once.

“What on earth?”

“Merlin’s beard, Ron, put the wand away!”

“What the hell is going on here?”

“Them!” Ron shouted. “They ran off yesterday and got married, I knew it! That’s why Harry took the day off yesterday, and Ginny wasn’t at the shop and she wasn’t here, and…”

“Married?” Mrs. Weasley looked shocked. Mr. Weasley looked taken aback. Hermione put her head in her hands, groaning and shaking her head.

Harry and Ginny, meanwhile, hadn’t moved, and were continuing to eat as if nothing was going on out of the ordinary around them.

“You… you!” Ron spluttered again. “Harry, how could you?” Ron demanded.

“Ron,” Harry said looking up calmly, “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Ron lost steam momentarily. “What… what? You… and Ginny… you ran off and got married… didn’t you?”

Harry and Ginny exchanged a look. “Well, Ron,” Ginny stated calmly, “I think I would have noticed if Harry and I had got married.”

Ron began to pale a little. “Then… then… what?”

Ginny looked up. “The Holyhead Harpies invited me to training camp. Yesterday, I made the team.”

For a long moment, there was silence. Then George began to laugh. He began to laugh so hard, he fell off his chair.

Ginny and Hermione began to giggle. And then laugh. Mrs. Weasley began to smile. Mr. Weasley guffawed.

“You two!” Ron sputtered finally, pointing. “This is all your fault!”

There was more laughter.  “I’m not sure how you came to that conclusion, Ron,” Ginny chuckled. “Seems to me this is all your own doing.”

“But… but…”

“Ginny’s right, Ron. You did start it,” Hermione said. “Remember? You’re the one who got all paranoid in the first place…”

“But… why?” Ron pleaded. “Why all the secrecy?”

“I didn’t want the stress,” Ginny explained. “I didn’t want the pressure. I figured I’d tell you all when it was over, one way or the other.”

Harry grinned. “And then, when you became convinced that Ginny and were going to elope… well, it wasn’t a far step from there.”

“You dug this pit for yourself, Ron,” Ginny said sweetly.

Ron stood, glaring, for another moment, then looked helplessly from Harry to Ginny, to Hermione; looking for what, Harry did not know.

Finally, slowly, a smile cracked Ron’s face, as George gasped on the floor. “I guess I was a ruddy great prat, wasn’t I?”

“Yes,” Ginny, Harry and Hermione all chorused.

“Honestly, Ron,” Hermione said, “do you really think that Harry and Ginny would deprive your mum of her only daughter’s wedding?”

“Well,” Ron said sheepishly, putting his hand up and rubbing his neck.

“I think we’re missing an obvious point here,” said Mr. Weasley suddenly. “We have a professional Quidditch player in the family.” He flicked his wand and a bottle of Firewhisky came zooming in from the liquor cabinet in the living room. “Congratulations are in order!”

Dinner at that point dissolved into a raucous celebration, as Ginny was congratulated, and then prevailed upon to describe try-outs, her new teammates and her famous coach. By the time the celebration had wound down, everyone was thoroughly exhausted. It being Saturday, Harry had consumed slightly more Firewhisky than he would have normally, and Mrs. Weasley benignly offered him use of one of the empty rooms upstairs to sleep it off.

Ginny helped him up the stairs. He had his arm around her shoulders and was drinking in her proximity like a man in the desert soaked up water.

“You know, we won’t be able to elope, you know that,” he said. “Which is too bad, because our wedding is going to be a circus.”

“You realize of course, you have never actually asked me to marry you, Potter,” Ginny pointed out, sounding very amused.

“Oh, but I will… and when you least expect it,” Harry said, tripping over one of the stairs and stumbling.

“Right.”

“Maybe I’ll have them put it up on the scoreboard at one of your Quidditch matches… I already bought season tickets… in a private box.”

“When did you do that?” Ginny asked, blushing a little.

“Yesterday, on my day off,” Harry replied, hiccoughing a little.

Ginny guided Harry into Percy’s old room, and gently set him on the bed. “Get some rest, Harry. You need it.” She kissed his forehead.

Harry groaned and leaned back on the pillows. “I’m going to hate myself in the morning, aren’t I?”

“Probably,” Ginny agreed. “Go to sleep. I love you.” She kissed him gently on the lips.

“I love you too.” He looked up her hopefully. “Any chance you can stay a while?”

“Are you kidding? Mum will probably be up here in five minutes flat, just to make sure neither one of us is taking advantage of each other.”

“You can take advantage of me anytime, Miss Weasley,” Harry said, waggling his eyebrows in what he was sure was a ridiculous manner. He was drunk, though, so it was okay.

Ginny rolled her eyes, but she smiled at him. She kissed him gently again. “Goodnight, Harry.”

“Goodnight, Ginny.” Harry watched her go. He called to her just as she reached the door. “Ginny?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“That was fun,” he said. “The whole, let’s freak Ron out thing… have to do it again sometime.”

“Of course, Harry.” She flicked her wand and the light went out, and the door shut behind her.

Harry took off his glasses and set them on the bedside table. He fell asleep smiling.

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