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Sirius could only feel relief when Harry finally re-emerged and joined the festivities he was valiantly trying to throw together in this most cheerless of houses. His godson had largely withdrawn from everyone after that first trip to see Arthur in St. Mungo’s. Neither Molly nor Mad-Eye had been able to account for the shift in mood; Sirius had wondered if perhaps seeing Arthur’s wounds in person had been too much after Harry had been forced to witness the attack itself. After all, the many ways Voldemort and his Death Eaters had mutilated his friends and allies in the first Order still haunted him, and he’d at least been out of school before any of the war’s ugliness had truly touched him like that. His godson was only a boy, who was expected to bear so much.
Now, at least, Harry sat around the long wooden table in the kitchen laughing with a veritable sea of redheads and others as they pulled crackers and feasted on some of Molly’s finest efforts. Sirius had gotten up to put his plate in the sink and now leaned against the doorframe, watching them all. This was the life he wanted for his godson, and it gnawed at him sometimes that it was beyond his power to make it a reality most of the time.
Harry was next to stand, begging off yet another helping Molly tried to heap on his plate. She was soon distracted by one of the twins summoning a dripping ladle down the length of the table and set in on scolding her son while Harry stood. Once he’d set his dishes in the sink, he came to join Sirius by the door.
“What’re you doing?” With all the boisterous conversations and the Wireless warbling on the countertop, Harry’s question didn’t carry much farther than him.
“Just stretching my legs a little.” In truth, he probably did do too much sitting around, but it was hard to do much else when he was stuck here day in and day out.
“It’s not too much, is it?” Harry wondered, eyeing him with a concern he shouldn’t need to have for his godfather, had he been a proper godfather from the start. “I mean, the Weasleys are brilliant, but—”
Sirius shook his head. “Nah. Reminds me of Christmas with your dad’s family, actually.”
“Really? It must’ve been quieter at least.”
“You’d be surprised.” He and James had been exuberant enough in those days — some would have called it obnoxious, probably — to make up for several people. “All happy families are alike. Each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”
Harry, of course, knew plenty about that, and they shared a solemn look.
“Hey, you two.” It was Ginny who said it, coming up to them with her hands clasped behind her back. “Planning on standing about all day, or are you rejoining us?”
“In a minute,” Sirius answered. “Actually, I ought to make sure Buckbeak gets fed first.”
“I can come with you,” Harry offered, and selfishly Sirius didn’t mind the idea even if it pulled him away from his friends a little longer.
“Oh, alright,” Ginny allowed. Then she brought her hands around to reveal what she’d been hiding — a tiara made of some sort of imitation silver. “But you forgot this from your cracker, Harry.”
She grinned as Sirius barked a laugh. “Reckon that was purposefully forgotten.”
“Yeah, you can have it, Ginny,” said Harry, having gone just a little pink in the cheeks when the pretty thing was pressed into his hands. No easier way to tease a teen boy.
“Come on, it’s Christmas!”
“Fine.” Harry glanced once at the table, seeming to check that the rest of them were still occupied before dropping the tiara crookedly on his head. “Happy?”
“Very,” Ginny answered as she gave a sweeping bow. Her voice came out half-giggle as she said, “Merry Christmas, your highness.”
“Yeah, that’s enough,” Harry decided, grinning despite himself as he rushed to remove the tiara before anyone else could see. He shoved it back at Ginny. “It suits you better. Merry Christmas.”
Ginny’s smile turned a touch softer, though all she said was, “If you say so.”
Sirius slipped quietly up the steps alone. There were other happy things that seemed destined to go the same no matter who it involved or how many years lay between. And he’d count himself lucky if he managed to see Harry make that realization himself one day.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The Burrow, already far quieter than its usual boisterous buzz of activity, had grown near-silent as its occupants slowly resumed their lives in the wake of Voldemort’s defeat. With Bill and Fleur having gone back to France and Charlie back to Romania, Mr. Weasley having returned to work, George and Percy having retreated to their London flats, and even Ron and Hermione having left for Australia, the house seemed almost to deflate with so few occupants left in it.
Harry might have gone with Ron and Hermione, but it seemed important to allow his two friends time to themselves now that they had taken that first step into starting their relationship. They had announced as much at dinner the same night they had let everyone know their intentions to go seek out the Grangers to restore their memories. It had been one of the first times he’d seen Mrs. Weasley smile since before the Battle of Hogwarts.
And it had left Harry with a worrying question to ponder: if he intended to resume his own relationship with Ginny, as he was fairly certain they both wanted, how should he make that known to her family?
He’d never actually brought it up to anyone besides Ron before. Harry didn’t know if any of the Weasleys besides Ron or Ginny knew he and Ginny had ever dated. And if they did? What if they didn’t approve of Harry asking Ginny if they could pick back up where they had left it? What if they felt he had toyed too much with her heart, the way Ron had accused him of doing when he’d caught them snogging on Harry’s last birthday? Mrs. Weasley had once nearly shut Hermione out for just the ridiculous suggestion in one of Rita Skeeter’s articles that she might be taking advantage of Harry’s feelings, and that had been nothing but lies. And she had been quite cool towards Fleur at first, too. What if she decides Harry wasn’t worthy of another chance with her only daughter? And what if Ginny then agreed with her mother?
The best thing to do would be to ensure Mrs. Weasley thought of him as favorably as possible before broaching the subject. For the past week, Harry had done all he could to ensure that, from accepting second and third helpings of her food without complaint to helping all around the Burrow with this and that. Where last summer it had been Mrs. Weasley hounding him, Ron, and Hermione with chores to try and keep them from planning their mission out of worry for them, it was now Harry who hardly left her alone. Never since the old days at Privet Drive had Harry done so much housework. But with Mrs. Weasley’s magic not as reliable lately due to the intense grief she was feeling, there was much to be done.
It didn’t leave him much time to spend with Ginny. He passed her on the steps or in the garden now and then while in the middle of fetching this or that, and besides the occasional arched eyebrow, she let him get on with it, seeming to decide it was best to let him work through whatever it was. She was often busy besides either writing to or meeting up with the members of the second DA that she, Neville, and Luna had coordinated. Meeting with the families of those who had been killed in the fighting, too.
So they each had responsibilities to see to first before they could be together again, even if Harry’s responsibilities were largely to her mother to prove he could be trusted with Ginny’s heart. He had followed the woman for days, and at last his patience was paying off. Mrs. Weasley was smiling more and seemed far less exhausted by the end of the day. Her initial surprise at Harry’s insistence on wanting to help had given way to an easy acceptance of his presence.
Though one afternoon as he finished hanging the linens up so they could be spelled dry more easily, when he asked what she needed him to do next, Mrs. Weasley answered, “I thought we might talk about whatever’s giving you trouble, dear.”
“Sorry?”
“Arthur’s rather the same, you know,” she told him. “Fixing things up around the house or getting me things when he’s got something he’d rather not have to say. We may as well have it out, it can hardly do much harm.”
“Oh. Er, well, it’s not anything I’d not like to say exactly. Only I wasn’t sure if you’d want to hear about it. It’s about, er, Ginny, you see. About her and me,” Harry amended.
“You mean how now that this dreadful war’s finally over with you’d like to start seeing her properly again?” When Harry’s eyes widened, Mrs. Weasley shook her head with a smirk. “Daughters do tend to confide these sorts of things in their mothers.”
“Right.” Harry could feel the heat creeping up his neck, which had little to do with the sunny June day. “And that’s, er, alright then? I mean, would it be alright if—”
“Shouldn’t you be asking my daughter if that’s alright with her first? It hardly matters what I think.”
“It matters to me,” Harry said, watching her give a start in surprise. “I want Ginny and I to be happy, and that can’t happen if her family’s not happy with this. If you thought less of me for how I’ve handled it.”
Mrs. Weasley sent the newly dried linens to fold themselves slightly haphazardly into the basket as she took two strides forward and seized him in a crushing hug. For once, Harry found himself holding back just as tightly.
“Harry Potter, there’s very little you could do to change what a wonderful young man I’ve watched you become. But you’ve kept her waiting long enough,” she added with a light swat to his shoulder as she released him.
“Yes, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry agreed, grinning as he headed back for the house. Knowing he still had a place in his favorite family, now all that was left was to make certain he still had a place at one particular member of that family’s side.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Saturday finally arrived, breezy but sunny, and so Ginny’s spirits were high as she took a bit of toast from the Gryffindor table and didn’t even bother to sit down. Nobody minded, as everyone else was just as eager to get a move on with their mornings so they could hit the village. Ginny had extra reason to hurry, of course.
To her delight, she found the reason for her hurry already waiting down by the gates which were thrown open for the Hogsmeade weekend. Harry stood talking to Hagrid, who must have taken a detour on his way up to breakfast, but he grinned wide as soon as she spotted her. Ginny swallowed down the last mouthful of her toast, then sprinted the rest of the way down the path to launch herself at her boyfriend.
“Whoa!” Harry still caught her solidly, and he held on just as tight for a long moment while Hagrid chuckled at the pair of them. When they finally let go of each other, Harry immediately took her hand. “Ready to go, then?”
“Clearly. See you down at the Three Broomsticks, Hagrid?” Ginny asked her large friend.
“Yeh might’. Only I’ve got a couple o’ me pets ter feed still. Best be on with it. Enjoy the day, yeh two!”
“Thanks, Hagrid!” Harry gave her hand a squeeze and then tugged her down the path that lead towards the village. “So, how’re NEWTS? Hermione keeping you on track?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe. Let’s not talk about schoolwork, alright?” Now that she was nearing the end, the weeks seemed to be stretching on longer and longer, as if it sensed just how badly she wanted to have it all over and done with. Ginny might’ve considered just skipping her last year like Harry and Ron did, only the previous year had been an absolute waste and would have left a dark pall over her schooldays if that had been the end of them.
Staying on a final year had allowed her the opportunity to captain the Gryffindor Quidditch team properly as well, unlike last year’s games that had been brutal and openly rigged in Slytherin’s favor. Not only that, but some scouts for the professional league had actually come out to the spring matches this year, and Ginny knew if she really wanted a shot at going pro it would’ve been foolish to waste the chance to show off for them.
“Well, how about the last match against Hufflepuff? Sorry I couldn’t get off for that,” Harry said not for the first time.
“It’s not as if you’ve got loads of free time at your disposal.” They’d decided it made more sense for him to ask off for today since she could actually spend the time with him rather than only spotting him in the stands here and there. Nevertheless, she obliged him now by describing the match in as much detail as she could recall.
Once they reached the village, they walked along one side of the high street and then the other just talking about everything and nothing at all. Neither of them were actually interested in shopping, and it was a gorgeous spring day. Ginny caught Harry up on all the ridiculous school gossip, and he regaled her with stories from his Auror training courses, which were much more interesting now that he’d started shadowing senior Aurors in the field.
One story involved a witch whose engagement ring had been found to have an extremely dark curse on it, placed courtesy of her fiancé. “It turns out, the man she is about to marry happens to already have a wife and three kids—”
Ginny clutched at his arm as a shocked laugh burst from her. “You’re joking!”
“Honest, I’m not. I wish I was, the poor witch was beside herself when it all came out.”
“Oh, I hope you let her hex him.”
Harry’s lips twitched, but he shook his head. “Wouldn’t have gone over well with Robards watching. Anyway, he was a wizard from the Continent, and it was this whole scheme to try and inherit her estate because she’s the last of this old pureblood line.”
“And I can probably guess which one with a little bit of thought. Not too many of us left, and thank Merlin for that.” Ginny could only hope that groups like the Death Eaters would permanently die out with them as wizards and witches continued to marry into families of both wizard and Muggle. “Least I shouldn’t have to worry about anyone trying to swindle me for my family’s assets,” she added as they finally stopped at the door of the Three Broomsticks.
“I dunno, I’ve had my eye on the Burrow for quite some time,” Harry mused close to her ear, grinning when she elbowed him lightly.
“Just tell me the name of your first wife so I know who to send the Howler to.”
A pair of little third-years at the end of the bar near the door looked round at them with wide eyes. Clearly they’d heard her.
“She’s joking,” Harry hastened to say. “I haven’t got any wives.”
“Not yet, anyway,” Ginny quipped, then couldn’t hold in her laughter as her boyfriend steered them towards a booth as far from the third-years as possible. “Well,” she gasped out, “that’ll keep the rumor mill going strong til the end of term at least!”
“Brilliant. I’m not even there and they’ll still be making stuff up about me,” he grumbled, though he couldn’t seem to hold his sour expression as he watched her laughing.
“Least they’ll know you’re taken.”
“Yeah, but I already was,” Harry answered in that straightforward way he had. Ginny smiled and nudged his foot with hers under the table.
“Well, every rumor’s got a little bit of truth in it.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
With his classes finished for the day, Harry got out the Marauder’s Map, making use of it to quickly locate his girlfriend. She was in the library, which made a certain amount of sense since OWL exam season was drawing ever closer for her. Harry thought about whether he ought to leave her to it — Hermione would certainly be after him for distracting Ginny from studying — but he could always stop by and then leave if she needed him to. After having waited so long to get into a relationship with her, he didn’t want to waste any time.
He was quite pleased with his decision once he found her table amongst the stacks of books, because Ginny was not even studying as it turned out. She’d dozed off, her quill hanging limply from the fingers of one hand while her cheek rested on a book for a pillow.
Harry touched her shoulder gently. “Ginny?”
“Who? What?” She sat up, startled, and looked about wildly before seeming to register where she was and who was with her. “Oh. Guess these Runes were more boring than I thought. I haven’t got any ink on me, have I?”
He shook his head. “No, you look fine.”
Ginny arched an eyebrow. “Fine?”
“Sorry, you look enchanting, of course,” he corrected with a grin.
“That’s better.” They were careful to keep their laughter soft, not wanting to invoke the wrath of Madam Pince. Ginny started packing her books away, clearly deciding she was on study break. Harry certainly wouldn’t argue that decision.
“Are Runes pretty difficult? I’ve never really had a look at the work Hermione does on them.” He’d wondered once or twice if he’d have been better off taking it or Arithmancy instead of Divination, but if the subjects were boring enough to put a person to sleep, maybe it would have made little difference.
Ginny shrugged as she pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “I can read them okay. It’s writing them out myself that’s the tricky part. And since I didn’t finish the classwork, I got assigned extra to do.”
Harry carried the books she’d been borrowing under his arm up to the returns desk. “Brilliant whenever that happens.”
“It’s basically just lines, cause Professor Babbling reckons I need to do them over and over to get them right.” Ginny put on a sort of breathier voice that he could only assume was an impression of the Ancient Runes teacher. Harry had never heard Babbling talk himself. “‘Make your practice your own personal masterpiece.’ As if I’m aiming for any higher than Acceptable at this point, and that’s probably a lofty goal.”
“Well, whatever you score on the OWL, you can always drop it next year.”
“That’s true. Something to look forward to. Anyway, enough about schoolwork,” Ginny said as they exited the library. “What did you wanna do until dinner?”
Harry looked at her. Though she was pretty as always — enchanting, even — he could see the tired slump to her shoulders and the slight redness to her eyes. He remembered feeling much the same the previous year. As much as he wanted to spend time with her, he didn’t want that coming at her expense. “I thought we could find somewhere comfier to nap,” he settled on.
Ginny smiled wide and laced her fingers with his. “Sounds brilliant to me.”
He was glad she thought so. For Harry’s part, he would happily spend an afternoon with her in his arms no matter what the reason.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“The young wizard had only just escaped the thorny clutches of the deadly Venomous Tentacula, but he was nowhere closer to defeating the dark lord who stood between him and his friends, or even escaping the frightening maze his enemy had trapped him inside. In fact, as he rounded yet another twist in the cavernous tunnels, he thought the gruesome markings on the wall seemed a little too familiar. To his horror, he realized he’d been this way before.”
“No!” Cried Teddy, his bedsheets all a tangle from how he’d been kicking out and grabbing at them in excitement.
Ginny, who had paused for dramatic effect, now had to suppress a pleased grin as she solemnly intoned, “Oh yes.”
“But- but there’s a spell! Or he could Apparate!”
“Ah, but to Apparate you have to know where you are and around how far away the place you’re trying to get to is,” she reminded him. “And the maze is Unplottable. Nobody knows where it really lies.”
“But he could be in there
forever
,” The five year-old declared. “And how can they stop the bad wizard if he’s stuck in there?”
“It’s a real problem. And it’s one the young wizard was quickly puzzling over as he gazed upon the same traps he had only narrowly avoided his first time through the corridor. How might he keep himself from going about in circles for all eternity? Where might he find the quickest way out? Slowly, an idea started to form in his mind—”
“So slow, in fact, that it would have to wait for the morning,” said a new voice, though a familiar one at that. Ginny and Teddy both looked round to see her husband framed in the doorway. “Seeing as it’s well past bedtime.”
“Harry!” Teddy groaned, flopping backwards onto the bed.
“Well, that’s a change. You’re normally happy to see me,” Harry remarked with a grin. He left his spot leaning against the doorframe and went to Teddy’s bedside to start fixing the sheets.
“Yeah, but Ginny wasn’t done with her story.”
“Sorry, Teddy, but your Nan’s going to stop letting me and Ginny have you over nights if we keep you up too late.”
“That’s my fault, must’ve lost track of the time,” Ginny said as she stood and stretched. “Should’ve realized you’d been kept long.” While he’d been fast-tracked through training, not even being Harry Potter exempted him from having to work some of the worst shifts like any other Junior Auror.
He glanced her way with an apologetic grimace. “Couldn’t be helped.”
She laid a hand against his back. “I know.” His expression morphed to one more of gratitude at her understanding.
“You’re home tomorrow, right Harry?” Asked Teddy.
He refocused on his godson. “Yes, and we can do something all three of us then. But that’s why you’ve got to go to sleep now.”
“Can Ginny finish her story tomorrow?”
“Absolutely, love,” she promised, leaning into Harry’s side a little so that she could finish tucking the covers up to Teddy’s chin. “In fact, you can help me catch your godfather up.”
“Okay.” The child dutifully snuggled deeper into the bed and closed his eyes. “Goodnight.”
She and Harry exchanged a look and both had to stifle giggles at the rapid change of heart over bedtime. Then they each kissed Teddy’s forehead and quietly left the room.
“I really am sorry for keeping him up this late,” Ginny murmured as they headed downstairs. “Suppose I was glad for the company.”
“Well, hard for you to pass up that kind of audience,” Harry pointed out. “Maybe you ought to take up writing once you’ve finished with the Harpies.”
“Well, that’s still a ways off.”
“True. Something to think about later. Anyway, what should we do with our night?” He wrapped his arms around her, and she tucked her head under his chin.
“Sleep? You’re probably exhausted, I’m still sore from morning practice, and we’ve got a small ball of pure energy to entertain all of tomorrow.”
Harry gave a sort of grunt in acknowledgment. “Who knows how Andromeda does it?”
“Well, she’s got practice.” Ginny doubted Tonks had been any less a handful at that age. It was easier to think of her fallen friend without wanting to cry with each passing year, yet even harder to believe that in a few short years she’d soon be older than the woman she’d once looked up to as a sort of big sister in a way. “Just like Teddy’s our practice,” she mused quietly, not even fully aware she’d said it aloud until she felt Harry go still. Ginny tilted her head back to meet his wondering gaze. “Something to think about later?”
Harry swallowed, then nodded. “Yeah. Later.”
Later, it turned out, came rather quickly.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Barnabas let out a heavy sigh as the lift descended. It was later than he usually went out these days, and he’d rather be home nursing a cup of tea with his feet up. But business was business, and while he left most of the day-to-day operations of the
Prophet
to those underneath him who were vying for his seat once he chose to finally retire, Barnabus still felt important matters left or acquisitions required his personal touch. And no acquisition was more important than an acquisition of talent.
The hobnobbing was already in full swing when the lift doors clanged open in the Ministry’s Atrium. Banners were strung up along the walls and trays with various hors d’oeuvres floated by at eye-level as witches and wizards stood about making small talk. Seven of the banners were emblazoned with the numbers and names of the players they were here to celebrate; the players who had been selected to represent Britain and Ireland in this year’s Quidditch World Cup.
His eyes zeroed in on
Potter 4
, his quarry for the evening. She wouldn’t be very hard to spot in the crowd, either, given that vibrant hair of hers… ah! There.
Barnabas made his way over to the couple holding court by the punchbowl. Not that it was likely that they’d intended to hold court, but wherever the Potters appeared a gaggle of admirers would congregate. Just one of many reasons the pitch he had to make tonight was so important.
“…what a brilliant way to end a career, Ginny,” one such witch gushed just as Barnabas came within earshot. “Really going out on a high note!”
“Yeah, if I’d had any regrets, this quieted them,” the woman of the hour admitted. “I even said to Harry the day they asked me, I couldn’t have asked for better.”
Naturally, it was no doubt an honor to have made the cut to play Chaser on the world stage and then gracefully bow out of the game. She had good instincts there. Barnabas cleared his throat and made his debut into the conversation by saying, “You’ve certainly timed it perfectly, Mrs. Potter. And may I extend a hearty congratulations from everyone at the
Daily Prophet
.”
She took his offered hand with a charming smile. Unlike other unfortunate players, however legendary in their own rights, she’d come away from the sport without any major facial injuries, and so it was quite the beautiful sight. “I’m grateful to receive it, Mr. Cuffe. And thank you for coming out tonight.”
“Of course.”
“Ginny, any chance the children are making an appearance tonight?” Asked another witch he thought looked familiar. Not Skeeter, of course, who he’d barred from attending tonight. She had her uses, but the acrimony between her and the Potters and their friends was well-known enough that he hardly wanted to risk putting them off by letting her loose in here. No, he thought this woman was one of the
Witch Weekly
columnists. “They must be so proud of their mum,” the witch continued.
“No, they’re at home with the oldest. Well, he’s sort of our oldest,” Ginny corrected.
“My godson,” Harry Potter put in right at his wife’s side. He was always the quieter of the two at these sorts of events, though everyone still stood to attention when he did choose to speak. “Actually, I should probably look in on them to make sure that’s going alright.” With a quick kiss to his wife’s temple, the Head Auror cut a swift path through the various clumps of wizards and witches gathered in little huddles throughout the Atrium.
Ginny Potter watched him go, shaking her head with a smile. “Always looking for the excuse. Mind, he’s right to check, otherwise we might come home to a small fire.”
A titter of laughter went up around the group that was gathered, Barnabas included. He waited until her husband was out of the room, then sidled up to her. “Mrs. Potter, I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to show me the way to the team’s coach?”
“Course.” She took the arm he offered and left the group that had formed about her. “And I assume you have a different purpose for pulling me away while we make our way to her?”
He smirked. “You’ve always been rather quick, haven’t you?” Even when he’d briefly encountered her as a schoolgirl at one of old Slughorn’s soirées, she’d seemed the sort to keep his eyes on. “Well, there’s little use waffling about it. The
Prophet
, as you may have noticed, is suffering a dearth of good Sports writers. I thought to see if you might be interested, assuming you hadn’t already made plans post your retirement from the professional leagues.”
Her eyes widened, though all she asked was, “What makes you so sure I’d be any good?”
“Well, you have commented the odd game here or there. You handle yourself well in interviews. And to be the wife of someone like your husband — I certainly don’t underestimate the poise and wit it’s taken you to remain well-regarded in the public eye all these years.”
“It’s helped that the
Prophet
hasn’t been leading smear campaigns against my husband as of late,” she replied, just a touch coolly.
Barnabas grimaced. “You make a fair point. I can hardly undo those years, but the reforms that have been put in place by the Wizengamot since then have limited the Minister’s ability to look in on my paper’s operations and have made us, I hope, a better institution than we’ve been. And perhaps pulling a salary from our coffers might, in some way, make up for some of the damages.”
They drew up to the edge of the circle surrounding Coach Moran — herself part of the winning team from that momentous World Cup back in ‘94 — and Mrs. Potter turned to face him head-on. “You make an interesting offer, Mr. Cuffe, but I’ll have to think on it.”
“Certainly.”
“Ginny, there you are.” Harry Potter had made his return, and his gaze was curious if not outright suspicious as it swept over Barnabas.
She withdrew her arm from his and settled seamlessly into her husband’s side. “Let’s walk, alright? Think I’ve had enough nibbles for the moment.”
The pair slipped back through the crowd, no doubt to discuss his proposition. There was every chance that the unfortunate history the
Prophet
had with Mr. Potter might decide things, but he was confident that Mrs. Potter would make the choice on more than her husband’s say-so. After all, one didn’t stay happily married all those years to a doormat.
His bit of business done, Barnabas snagged a bite off the nearest floating tray and made back for the lift.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Rita sighed as she finished off the last of her usual lunch in the Leaky Cauldron. The bits of idle chatter she’d picked up from the regular patrons wouldn’t fill a single column, and her deadline was coming up fast. There just wasn’t much scandal these days; Shacklebolt ran a tight ship at the Ministry, and with no war on people weren’t disappearing or dying tragic deaths so much. Which some people might call a blessing, but in her business no news was bad news.
Still puzzling over how to stretch out the drama between a clerk at Flourish and Blotts and the thief he insisted kept taking his inkwells at the front desk, Rita nearly missed it on her walk back. But then, there the answer to her problem was. The same answer as always when she was looking for a good story: Harry Potter.
The famous wizard strolled down the alley with a gorgeous blonde at his side, the girl laughing at something he’d said. She was on the younger side, Rita noted with glee. Oh, this would be
brilliant
once she broke it!
Ginny Potter was off on the Continent with the Holyhead Harpies, playing in a European Women’s League for a special summer season. Her husband, a busy Auror, hadn’t gone with her. But it seemed he was finding the time to go out on the town in his wife’s absence all the same. How about that? They’d only been apart a week, and already he had a new lover hanging off his arm.
They were heading down towards the end of the alley that held Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. Marveling at the man’s daring, Rita hurried forward while fishing her Quick Quotes Quill from her bag. “Well, what a surprise!”
She caught the roll of his eyes behind his glasses before Potter grunted something that sounded vaguely like, “Afternoon.” The woman beside him blinked at Rita in mild interest; neither of the pair seemed all that worried or even ashamed at being caught.
Before Potter could shoulder his way past her, Rita asked, “Don’t you intend to introduce your date? On or off the record,” she added, hastily trying to shoo her Quick Quotes Quill out of sight.
“My
date
?”
“And just how does Deputy Head of the Aurora clear time in his busy schedule to take dates during the workday? Readers may be curious to know, and so would a certain Mrs. Potter, I’m sure.”
“‘arry?” Asked the blonde woman in heavily accented English. “Who eez this woman?”
Rita’s excitement only grew. “Oh, so she’s French, is she?”
“She is, yeah,” Potter confirmed, his tone some cross between exasperated and faintly amused. “This is Gabrielle Delacour.”
Rita had just opened her mouth wide to fire off another question, only for it to snap shut. “Delacour?” She echoed, shoulders slumping.
“Zat eez correct,” the sister of Potter’s sister-in-law answered for herself. “And eef you are zome kind of journalist—”
“She’s some kind, alright,” Potter quipped to Rita’s ire.
“—zen I will ‘ave you know zat in France, eet eez forbidden to be taking zee quotes or zee photographs of a person without their consent. And I do
not
consent.”
“I wish it were that easy for me,” said Potter, his lips twitching. Then he checked a rather shabby-looking watch at his wrist. “Anyway, Ron and George are just down there, Gabrielle. I’ve got to get back on shift if I’m going to wrap up in time to hop over and watch Ginny crush Liechtenstein’s team.”
“Give ‘er our best,” the French girl said, blowing a kiss before practically gliding the rest of the way to the joke shop. Potter didn’t even spare Rita a glance before striding off in his own direction for the Apparation point. The nerve of him! Rita was almost tempted to make some kind of story out of it anyway…
Though her editor swiftly put paid to that idea upon her return to the office. “I’ll not have you dragging this paper into an international incident!”
At least it might’ve given them all something to write about!