Chapter 5 Hold Fast to Dreams


Harry decided that for this one weekend, he would put real life on hold. He would not accept any owls, he would close off his hearth to the Floo, and he would not think about things like careers or even the future. Except insofar as it included Ginny.

It was as though they had never really known each other. They talked all through lunch about common memories, and Harry discovered that Ginny had a perspective on things that he had never considered. They talked all through dinner about their dreams for the future, and Ginny made it all sound so real, so possible, that he knew his heart would break if it didn't happen just the way she said.

And he couldn't stop touching her. This was Ginny, he kept reminding himself, this was the girl he had touched a million times and never had sparks ignite. He had never felt like this around another woman, or that he couldn't breathe right if he wasn't holding her hand. He had never felt that each kiss caused him to teeter on the fine line between reverence and lust. She was the most precious thing he had ever known, he wanted to take care of her and make sure she was never hurt. But at the same time he felt a base need to get his hands on her naked skin, to lick and suck and thrust himself into her. The two feelings warred within him constantly, coming to a head when he kissed her good night on Saturday night.

He carried her shopping bags through the Floo for her, then placed them carefully on the table in the Burrow's kitchen. It was late and Molly, Bill, and the twins had gone to bed. He looked at Ginny in the candlelight and caught his breath.

"Why did this take so long?" he wondered out loud. "I mean, we've known each other for years, for half our lives."

Ginny smiled at him. "I don't know. Maybe the time wasn't right before now."

Harry stepped closer and closed his hands over her shoulders. "You're so beautiful, Ginny. I love you so much."

Her eyes grew wide, then filled with tears. "You do? I mean--it seems so soon!"

Harry shook his head. It didn't even matter if she didn't love him back yet. Well, it mattered a little..."I don't know. It's like...like everything has been leading to this."

She nodded and wrapped her arms around his waist. "That's exactly how I feel. Like all the pieces are falling into place. I just didn't think you could love me already. I thought it must just be me."

He blinked at her. "You thought it was just you? Are you trying to tell me you love me?"

"Oh, er, yeah," she laughed. "I am. I do love you, Harry."

For some reason he was awed by her declaration. It amazed him that she knew him so well and loved him anyway. He bent to place a soft kiss on her mouth, but when their lips met it was as though a switch had been flipped, and he felt his need for her rush over him. He kissed her roughly, plunging his tongue into her mouth. She moaned and pressed herself against him and his hands found the firm muscles of her arse.

He stumbled forward until she was pressed against the kitchen table, and he raised her up to it and set her on it. His hand covered her breast as he tipped her backward, trying to get her lying beneath him on the table. All that mattered was getting her body under his. She gasped and wrapped her legs around his waist, her hands pulling him down to her. His hips thrust against hers, seeking her heat even through their clothes. He had to get to her skin. He reached under her shirt and began to tug it up, his hands shaking with his need as they skimmed the skin of her sides.

But then she was pushing him back. Her breathing was coming very fast. "Stop, stop," she panted. He didn't want to stop, couldn't, and he kept kissing whatever parts of her he could reach, her knees, her belly, her shoulder...

"Harry, please," she said weakly. "I don't want my first time to be on the kitchen table."

Harry drew in a breath and stopped. "Your first time?"

She nodded, her face turning a bit pink. "Yeah."

He still wanted her, but now he was flooded with the protective emotions that always lurked somewhere nearby. "I'm sorry," he said huskily. "We should wait...I'll try to control myself better."

She glanced up at him. "I like it when you can't control yourself."

Lust surged in him again and he squeezed his eyes shut. "Oh."

She sighed, and he removed his hands from where they rested on her thighs. It was not a good idea to touch her right now. On her thighs, her firm, smooth thighs...he shook his head to make himself stop thinking about her thighs.

"It's just...I always said I would wait..." Her face grew very red, and he knew she meant "wait until marriage."

He bent his forehead to hers again. "I know...it's fine...it's good...we can wait..." He took a deep breath, and then said, "Will I see you tomorrow?"

"I have to take care of the girls tomorrow."

"I'll come over here, then, all right?" he said. "We can take them on a picnic or something."

She gave him a brilliant smile. "All right, then."

And he Apparated home to his lonely flat above a shop. But he didn't care. He knew now that it was temporary.



On Monday morning Ginny sent an owl, and then turned back to the kitchen to make breakfast for herself and the twins. The twins chattered on about their birthday and their presents, but Ginny wasn't really paying attention. It wasn't until Harry's name came up that her thoughts were dragged away from...well, Harry.

Claire was looking at her with a very serious look for someone who was only four. Ginny raised her eyebrows. "What did you say, Claire?"

"I said," said Claire, and for a moment she looked exactly like Fleur, "are you going to marry Uncle Harry?"

Ginny started. "Er...well, I don't know," she said carefully, resolutely ignoring the leap her stomach took. "I mean, he hasn't asked me."

Claire frowned. "Well, you can't, Auntie Ginny. You just can't."

"I can't?" Ginny asked. "Why not?"

Victoria piped up, "Because she's going to marry Uncle Harry, and I'm going to marry Daddy."

"Are you?" Ginny asked. Both girls nodded vigorously. "How did you come to that conclusion?"

"Because Uncle Harry and I are the only two who don't have red hair," explained Claire, rolling her eyes at her aunt's obtuseness, "so we match."

"Oh, I see," said Ginny. It made perfect sense to her. Then, taking a deep breath, she asked, "What if I do marry Uncle Harry?"

"Then I'll have to fight Victoria for Daddy," said Claire matter-of-factly, "and you're always telling us not to fight."

She was so wide-eyed and innocent that Ginny had to laugh. She had seen that look on Fred's and George's faces a hundred times; it always spelled mischief at the very least.

Ginny got the girls dressed, giving Molly a chance to wake up more fully and spend some time in her garden before the day got too warm. It was a routine that worked for them both, since Ginny didn't have to be at Quidditch practice until one o'clock. She sent the twins out into the yard to play with their new birthday gifts, and was surprised to find that Molly was in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea, rather than working with her herbs and flowers.

Molly gave her a very direct look over the top of her tea cup. Ginny did her best not to blush under her mother's scrutiny, but it was a struggle.

"So," Molly began, a smile playing around her lips, "are you going to marry Uncle Harry?"

"Mum!" Ginny said crossly.

"You can't keep secrets from me, young lady," Molly said firmly. Ginny's face grew hot as she thought of the encounter she and Harry had had here in the kitchen Saturday night. She fervently hoped there were at least some secrets she could keep from her mum.

"Mm-hmmm," said Molly, with an all-knowing smile as she watched her youngest child go red in the face. "Something changed the night of the party, Ginny."

Ginny sighed, then found herself grinning a goofy grin. Good Lord, she must look just like Ron. "I don't know, Mum," she said. "It's just happened so fast, but it's perfect. He...he says he loves me." She couldn't help it; her smile blossomed at the thought.

Molly nodded. "Then I expect he does," she said. "He's not the kind of man to use those words freely."

Ginny shook her head. "I know. But don't you think--I mean, it's awfully fast."

"Do you doubt it?" Molly asked.

Ginny twirled the end of her plait in her fingers while she took a moment to look deep into her feelings. She tried to be as honest as she could, but there was nothing there but the strength and purity of this new love. It was a little strange, a little scary, but it was real. She shook her head. "No, Mum, I really don't doubt it."

Molly sipped her tea calmly. "This has been coming for a long time, Ginny," she said.

"It has?"

Molly nodded. "It has. Sometimes our hearts are working out things that are kept secret even from us until the time is right."

Ginny glanced over at her mother. She didn't know what to say to that. Was that what had been going on with her and Harry?

At that moment an owl landed on the windowsill and Ginny looked away from her mother to walk over and retrieve the message. She let the owl drink from her mug of tea while she skimmed over the letter in her hand.

Molly was watching her inquiringly, but Ginny just smiled. "Mum, Bill and I won't be here for dinner Thursday. Can you watch the girls?"

Molly blinked. "Of course. But where will you be?

Ginny shook her head. "I don't want to say just yet, in case it doesn't work out."

"All right," Molly said, giving her best long-suffering sigh. "Fine, don't tell me..."

"Thanks, Mum."


On Monday morning he told Kingsley he needed until Victory Day to come to a decision about the promotion. Kingsley looked at him suspiciously, but granted his request. Then Harry sent Hedwig off with a note before meeting with his unit to yell at them about last week's screw-ups. But he wasn't really yelling. He knew he should come down harder on them, but he was too happy for that. He was in such a good mood, in fact, that several of the people in his unit gave him strange looks. But he didn't care. Nothing could ruin his happiness today.

Hedwig returned just before lunch, so he read the note and slipped it into his pocket. The minute his lunch break started at twelve o'clock, he ran to Kingsley's office to use the secure Floo. In his eagerness to make this call, he slammed the door behind him, leaving several Aurors out in the hallway shaking their heads and wondering what was going on with him today.

He dropped to his knees, yelled, "The Burrow!" and stuck his head into the green flames. "Ginny!" he called. "Oy! Ginny!"

In a flash the three most beautiful girls in the world were kneeling on the floor in front of him. Ginny and the twins had come running, amid shouts of "Uncle Harry! Uncle Harry's here!" Harry noticed to his pleasure that Ginny gave him another one of those brilliant glowing smiles, but it was a moment before she could calm the girls down enough to send them back to their lunch so she and Harry could talk.

"Er...hi," he finally said, then kicked himself mentally for sounding like an idiot.

"Hi," Ginny responded cheerfully. "How's your day?"

"Fine," he said. "But I miss you. Listen, will you have dinner with me?"

“Yes,” Ginny said, her face going pink. “That’d be great.” Merlin, how was she going to go seven more hours without seeing him?

“Will you spend the night?”

“Harry!” Ginny said, half shocked, half laughing. “My mum is right here!”

Molly bent down and gave him a cheery wave. “Hello, Harry, dear.”

Harry’s face went red, but he grinned. “Oh, er, hi, Mrs. Weasley. I was only kidding about that last.”

“Mmmm-hmmm,” Mrs. Weasley said skeptically, righting herself again.

Ginny turned back to Harry. “I have practice until six, though. Can I just come to your place after?”

"Yeah," he said, smiling. Ginny smiled back and they sat there gazing at each other until Ginny heard someone yell, "Potter!" far in the background.

Harry winced. "Sorry, gotta go. See you tonight."

"Bye," Ginny said, but he had already gone.


She knew Coach Ollerton was watching her, but she wasn't worried about it. In fact, she played her best, energized by her new-found feelings for Harry. Everything in life was enjoyable today, everything made her happy and gave her pleasure. She whooped as the Quaffle she had tossed sailed past Zabini and into the center hoop; she wished the exhibition game were tonight, right now, because she felt like she could take on the world.

Besides feeling like she could take on any first-string team, she was glad she was playing her best because wasn't sure she was ready to close the door on Coach Lynch's offer to move up. She didn't think she could stand it if Harry took that job in the Auror department just for her, just so she didn't have to play Quidditch if she didn't want to. And he would do it, too; she knew him well enough to know that he would make that sacrifice for her if it would make her happy. Well, forget that, she thought as she went into a steep dive, trying to catch the Quaffle before it hit the ground. No way was she going to have him gone eighteen hours a day just so she didn't have to work. He wanted a home, and she'd be damned if she'd let him give up on that dream for her sake. If she played Quidditch, she'd bring in a lot of money, and Harry could do whatever he wanted for a living.

She caught the Quaffle and came smoothly out of the dive as Coach blew her whistle. The team hit the ground and headed for the locker rooms. Ginny narrowly avoided Zabini by tossing him the Quaffle then ducking into the women's locker room. He was going to ask her out again, she was sure of it. Git. She took a quick shower, then threw on a nice robe-- comfortable but attractive-- and took her time applying her makeup. She didn't usually wear makeup, but she wanted to look nice for Harry tonight.

That thought made her laugh at herself in wry mockery as she applied some light mascara. As if Harry hadn't seen her a thousand times at her very worst. Half dead in the Chamber of Secrets, pale and sick from the pain of her broken ankle in the Department of Mysteries, bleeding and burnt from the final battle, sick and retching from crying when her father died.

Well, that didn't matter. He'd see her at her worst again, she was sure. But for now, she wanted to look nice. She pressed her lips together to blot her lipstick, stuffed her uniform in her locker, and Disapparated.

She Apparated outside of Harry's awful little flat, and knocked. The door opened as soon as her knuckles hit the wood, and Harry reached out to grab her and pull her in. Before she could say hello, before she could even think, he was kissing her. Her lips, her cheeks, her neck, her ears. She turned her face toward his and returned his kisses gladly, and then urgently, her hands roaming all over him--shoulders, chest, hips-- pulling him to her as though he were oxygen and she would drown if she didn't inhale him.

Harry was nibbling on her neck and he muttered something, but she didn't understand him. "Hmmm...?" she asked breathlessly, then ran her tongue down the line of his jaw. Oh, God, he tasted so good, like sweat and water and skin, with just a bit of roughness from evening shadow. She bit him lightly and he groaned. Her mouth traveled down the column of his neck, which tasted even better.

"I said--" he began, then broke off as her hand slid inside his waistband. "Oh, God, Ginny..."

He pulled her to him roughly, and just then there was a knock on the door. Harry didn't stop. Neither did Ginny, but the knock came again. "Harry--" she gasped. "Door..."

"What?" he said distractedly, his word muffled due to the fact that his mouth was against her breast. "Oh--"

He stepped back and shook his head rapidly. They were both taking deep gasping breaths, and Harry shoved his hands into the pockets of his robes. Then he gave her a crooked grin, and she started for him again, but the knock came again. He stepped around her and opened the door.

"What took you so long?" said an irritated voice. "Been standing out here for ten minutes."

"Sorry," said Harry. "Here, take this. Sorry for your trouble." He stepped back in the door with his arms laden with carryout bags.

"I got Chinese," he said. "I figured if I tried to cook you'd never want to see me again."

Ginny smiled at him fondly. She knew he couldn't cook more than the basics. That was all right with her; she could cook. She wanted to cook for him, to take care of him.

They sat on the floor and ate directly out of the cartons, talking and laughing and sharing their day. By unspoken consent they kept their hands to themselves, for the most part, though she could not resist occasionally resting a hand on his knee, or leaning up to kiss his cheek. She laughed when he always seemed to stutter and lose track of what he was saying in those moments.

The next two days followed the same pattern, and Ginny felt she had never been so happy in her life. Harry would call her at lunch, and they would make their plans for the evening, and Ginny would go on to Quidditch and play better than she ever had before. Then Harry would meet her at the door and she'd fall into his arms. They pushed each other to the edge of their control, and sometimes a bit past it, before they broke apart again, half-dressed, panting, more frustrated and more in love than ever.

Thursday morning Harry sent Hedwig to Kingsley's office ahead of him to tell him he would be late. Harry knew Kingsley wouldn't complain too much; Harry had put in twice as many hours as necessary in the past few months. There was no way Kingsley would get after him for taking an hour or two.

He spent his free hours in the jewelry shop below his flat. It was Thursday; he had been in love with Ginny for nearly a week, and he couldn't wait any longer. The truth was, he had been ready to ask her last Saturday night, after they'd spent the day together, after he'd nearly torn her clothes off and taken her on her mother's kitchen table.

God, he was growing hard at the memory. Thank Merlin for wizard's robes, he thought, adjusting himself subtly. Stop thinking about that, he ordered his unruly mind. You're here for something important. He wandered through the store for another hour, choosing rings and discarding them, trying to be patient while the salesman extolled the virtues of each one of his choices. But none of them was right; he would know the right one when he saw it.

And then he did see it. It was a ruby, small enough to be elegant, but big enough to be noticeable. It was in a gold setting, and he thought that the red and gold Gryffindor colors suited her. His heart sped up; he felt like it was in his throat, making it hard for him to swallow. This was for real. It was scary, he admitted, but it was right. She was his home. She was his dream come true.

He held out the ring for the salesman, and then laid a large handful of Galleons on the counter. He had done it. He turned and walked out of the shop, then ran up the back stairs to his flat. He flung open the door and ran to the hearth, sliding on his knees as he threw a handful of powder into the fire.

"Ginny! Ginny!" he called, and he had to smile when the twins came running and flung themselves down on the floor. They were no longer in their birthday outfits; Victoria wore jeans and an orange Cannons' jersey, and Claire wore a long flowing pink skirt with a ruffly lavender blouse. Harry noticed Claire even carried a handbag and had her nails painted a delicate pink, while Victoria's nails were caked with dirt.

"How are my best girls?" Harry asked, and both girls started in on long involved accounts of their day, which, as far as Harry could tell, involved trying to put lipstick on the cat. His back and knees had started to cramp up before he could get a word in edgewise. "That's great, girls. Er...is your Auntie Ginny around?"

Claire sighed dramatically. "Yes, Uncle Harry, I'll go get her." She stood up and walked out of Harry's sight.

"She's just mad because she wanted to marry you and now Nana says that Auntie Ginny is going to marry you," Victoria explained in one breath.

Harry blinked. "Nana says that, does she?" Victoria nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but just then she squealed as she was lifted up out of Harry's sight. The next second Ginny knelt down in the place where the twins had been.

"Hi," she said, giving him that smile he loved.

"Hi," he said, catching his breath. God, she was beautiful. "Er...sorry. Got distracted. Let's go out tonight, shall we? Someplace nice?"

To his surprise, her smile faded. "I'm sorry, Harry, I can't go out tonight. I have some other things I have to do."

"You do?" His heart sank. Did she think it was easy for a bloke to get up his nerve to ask a girl to marry him? "Well, I can come along with you, then. We'll eat later."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Harry, I can't."

A terrible thought struck Harry. He was moving too fast, he knew it, and she had decided to see another man. "What's going on, Ginny?" he asked, and was gratified to see her eyes widen at his angry tone.

"Nothing," she said, frowning. "I just can't go out tonight. I'll see you tomorrow, though, all right?"

"No, it bloody well is not!" Harry shouted. "Who are you seeing, Ginny? Going out with that Slytherin you play Quidditch with?"

"Harry, don't be stupid," Ginny snapped at him. "You know I'm not going out with anyone else. Let's go out tomorrow, all right?"

"I can't," Harry snarled. He should shut up, he knew it, but his fear and insecurity were driving his anger, making it impossible to control his temper. "I have plans tomorrow night. Maybe Zabini can keep you company."

"Knock it off, Potter!" Ginny yelled. "You're being so immature! I'm allowed to have one night in a week to myself, you know!"

"Fine!" he shouted. "Have them all to yourself, see if I care!" He pulled his head out of the fire and leapt to his feet, though the movement was not as graceful as it usually was because of the cramping in his knees. For a moment he paced, full of anxiety that he channeled effectively into anger. He spun and punched the wall. The crunch was satisfying for a moment, until the pain set in. That only made him more angry.

He Apparated from his flat to the Ministry. Stalking into the Auror department, he let the door slam behind him. He should get his broken hand fixed, but he was still too angry. Grabbing a passing member of his unit, he snapped, "Call the unit together. We have to go over last week's mistakes again."