“Harry, dear! Go sit. I just need to have this cream whipped. We’re setting up in the garden. I think Ron and George went to the orchard.�

Harry bent so that Molly could kiss his cheek while her hands were busy commandeering several pots and bowls at once. He wiped his glasses with his shirttail and stared bemused at the unusual chaos in the Burrow’s kitchen. He shook his head. No, it was always like this when Molly cooked. And as it was Sunday brunch, it was worse. The woman liked making feasts and though she was good with doling out chores, she was too kind-hearted to ask anyone to tidy. It was easy enough to do afterward by herself anyway. No, the laden counters and the heat haze were not out of the ordinary.

It was Molly’s lilac robes and hat. She had only worn that once. Christmas. When he was eighteen. Five years ago. The set had been given to her by — but he tried not to think of her too much. Before falling asleep and after waking up and every other minute was enough.

“Harry! I was almost afraid you wouldn’t come.�

He almost bumped into Hermione. She hugged him and manoeuvred toward the cupboards in one smooth motion. He followed her and helped get plates and cutlery.

“Why wouldn’t I come?� he asked her, puzzled. He had never missed Sunday brunch. He turned to take the plates he had stacked in her arms and caught her blushing.

“Oh, nothing, I only thought – you’ve been so busy, haven’t you? Come on, it’s so hot in here.� Hermione led him out the door, in her most evasive. Sure enough, she went to the opposite end of where he’d laid the plates on the pretence of steadying a table leg.

Angelina, who was sitting at the table, kissed his cheek after scrutinising his face for half a second. Something was up.

He spied two red-headed men returning from the orchard. Ron saw him, turned to George and asked him something, and only after George answered did Ron seem relieved, and grinned at Harry.

Something definitely was up.

“Where’s Arthur?� he asked Hermione.

She didn’t answer.

He turned from laying down the cutlery to look at her. She was now right beside him. But to his surprise, she was fidgeting with a plate as though there were lines not to be crossed on the table.

“Hermione! Are you alright?�

She gave a start and chuckled nervously. “I’m fine, why do you ask?�

Harry raised his eyebrows. “I asked you a question. You were probably with the house-elves and centaurs. Wasn’t she, Angelina?�

Angelina only laughed from the other end of the table. “Arthur’s somewhere in the hill, fetching Bill and Fleur and the kids. They’re arriving by one of those newfangled Maternity Portkeys that still can’t be set nearer homesteads, ironically.�

“Really? They’re coming?�

Harry was surprised because Bill and Fleur had just joined them last week, and there was usually several weeks’ interval before their next visit. Fleur’s mother liked visiting on Sundays. Bill and Fleur stayed with her since they were already living in England anyway, able to pop in at the Burrow and receive the Weasleys by Floo any time. He jumped out of the way and out of his musings as a parade of laden, mouth-watering platters and bowls hovered their way to the table preceding Molly.

“Charlie, too,� Angelina continued. “He’ll also be arriving by Portkey from Moldova. Percy was already here, but had to run somewhere for something or other. He’ll be back.�

“Today’s brunch is special,� George said in singsong, plucking the bowls of salad from the air and placing them on the table. Harry frowned at him in bewilderment. In his peripheral vision, he saw Hermione glaring at George.

“What’s up?� Harry grinned at her. He had a pretty much sure inkling now. Hermione and Ron had been very enigmatic lately. He glanced down to check Hermione’s fingers. But then, what was the point with the suspense before the announcement if she wore the ring beforehand, right?

“Mate, why’re you late? We thought you —� Hermione shot Ron her patented warning glance here — “thought you mightn’t come.�

“I’m not late! I just had some paperwork to finish.�

Ron snorted. “You mean, delegate. You always forget that word. You should delegate.�

Harry dismissed that with a wave. “So why were you and Hermione both so anxious about my coming?�

They exchanged looks. And then Ron almost succeeded in acting fondly exasperated with Hermione. Almost. “Oh, was she? I don’t know about that. As for me, well, you missed the game.�

It was Harry’s turn to snort.

“There they are!� Molly cried, her voice a notch above the usual tremulousness when seeing her first grandchildren, Victoire and Louis, aged four and eighteen months respectively. Molly looked like she wanted to run to meet them, but she only smoothed a hand down her robes. She had doffed her apron.

The babies were on the point of being passed around when Percy Apparated behind his father and elder brothers.

“Am I late? Has she — oh, good. Hey, little man!� Percy stuck his hand out to his nephew. He always lapsed into doing that.

Charlie was saying something about rumours of a new Firebolt soon to be released. Harry listened with one ear while inclining the other one toward Hermione beside him. “Is Audrey coming? Why didn’t they arrive together?� he asked.

Hermione only uncharacteristically gaped at him and scooped away Louis from Percy. Harry scooped the baby in turn. “What’s gotten into you today, Hermione?�

She turned to him and squared her shoulders. However, just when she’d taken a deep breath to speak, there was a distinct POP from around the bend in the garden. Molly shrieked. Chairs tipped backward onto the grass as everyone jumped to their feet. And without knowing why, Harry found himself rushing with them to the source of the Apparition crack.

He made it several steps and then froze. He was barely aware of having babbling Louis in his arms.

He should have known. Molly’s robes and hat should have clued him in. Along with Bill, Charlie and Percy all being there.

“Is that my first nephew?�

She came to him in a rush of red mane, flowery perfume and green silk. He caught his breath.

“Harry.�

“Ginny. It’s been a while.� It was funny and incredible he’d managed to get those words out past the Bludger straining for room in his chest.

“It has.� She looked at him from under her dark lashes with that half-smile that haunted him.

He took a deep breath of her scent. It was like—he couldn’t name what it was like. He only felt it when she was with him, and he wasn’t good at naming things. “Come here. You look too smart and lady-like. You need some drool on you.�

The half-smile turned into a grin. She stepped into his arms.



~Two old sweethearts who fell apart
somewhere long ago...



“I could do with some drool, I guess.�

He was taller. Gods. She could just skim his chin with her forehead. And she was wearing cork wedges rising three inches from the ground. She kissed Louis on the cheek and kissed Harry’s chest — subtly. Everyone was watching.

“So how was the season?�

She stepped back and smirked. “You don’t know?�

He smirked back. “You don’t know? I don’t like keeping up with Quidditch these days. It’s not recent either. It’s been... oh, five years, that I felt that way. So everyone knows not to talk about it when I’m nearby.�

Someone wisely took Louis to safety. She followed the arms and traced it back to Ron, beside whom Hermione stood with an apologetic expression. Ginny stopped gritting her teeth, turned back to Harry and countered his glower with a smile.

“You can’t blame me for being surprised with that. You did play Quidditch at school, got chased by a rogue Bludger, fell fifty feet... No, I really don’t see what you’re saying. How could the wizard who conquered Voldemort suddenly be squeamish about Bludgers and feints and rolls?�

“Because a fine way to die, isn’t it, by feint, just when Voldemort’s gone?� He bellowed.

“No, no, don’t mind them, little guy! Ring-o-ring o’ roses, a pocket full of posies!� George danced Louis away.

Ginny couldn’t help it, she giggled. An odd giddiness was taking over her. Perhaps it was from simply being there, or him being there.

“This is just unbelievable,� she mused aloud, looking from one face to another except the one fuming in front of her.

“We were all worried about you, dear,� her mother scolded.

Ginny smiled, ignoring that, and only met his glare head on. “You’re just hungry.�

They were standing toe-to-toe, so it didn’t take him much to do what he did. Bent down and kissed her. Stole her breath and stripped her mind of thoughts. Rendered her numb except to his taste and touch.

“Yes, I am. Starving. It makes me grumpy. Add to that a stubborn girl —� He marched off.

Of course she was still too breathless and senseless to react to that. When she could think again at all, disbelief at what he just did was first to come to her. She wanted to smile at his audacity and daring, at the gasps he’d wrung from her family. Only when he was several yards away walking back to the table did his words return to her. Only then did she growl. And by this time, Hermione and her mother were restraining her by the arms.

“Give him time, Ginny. I don’t know what you were expecting, either, springing your return on him like this. You should have written him about it. Hermione was distracted all morning, fearing George told him and that Harry wouldn’t come at all. I don’t want to meddle and I won’t prod, but it was clear to me you did something or didn’t do something when you left to play with the Harpies. He wasn’t pleased with you. The look on his face – and you goading him like that—�

“Oh, he’ll be pleased,� Ginny interrupted her mother’s diatribe with a fond squeeze. She had missed the gentle nagging. For Hermione, she also gave a squeeze of gratitude and reassurance.



~She’s back in his life
and it feels so right!



“Cider or mead?�

Harry only glared at Ron, who shrugged with the flagons sheepishly.

“She wanted to surprise you. None of us were supposed to tell, on pain of bat bogies. Of course George had to be an arse, made like he let it slip to you. That’s why me and Hermione were jittery.�

Harry rolled his eyes and sat on one end of the table. When Hermione passed, he grabbed her arm and sat her down beside him. When Ron made to sit next to her, Harry fairly transplanted him to his other side instead.

But Ron was plucked right back to his feet. “No, Ron, why don’t you sit next to your fiancée-to-be? Is it still fiancée-to be, by the way? You should get a move on.�

Sputtering, Ron obeyed Ginny while George, Charlie and Arthur laughed. Hermione did her customary hand-flapping to dismiss the teasing and Ron’s embarrassment.

Harry stiffened and averted his head from all these and from her. Her scent and silks were engulfing him. As did her very presence.

“Gwenog Jones is getting married, is that right, Ginny?�

“Yes, to a widower from Brittany with a house to match Gwen’s ego.�

“Will Jules recover from the...er, unusual cobbing you gave him?�

“They’re still looking to restore his gonads but he’ll live, Dad.�

“No talk of gonads on my table!�

“It’s only anatomy, Mum, like, say, liver.�

“You’ve lost many freckles. What did you do to them?�

“I sent them to Ron.�

Laughter was constant with the chatter as they passed the food and drinks. Harry barely kept up. He mechanically took some of everything passed to him but just kept them untouched on his plate.

“We came from Lisbon. A friendly match. And then there was another with the Falcons. From Cornwall, I took a Portkey to the team offices in Wales before I Apparated here.�

Silence greeted this announcement. Harry looked up from glaring at his peas (he had been playing with them but stopped when he heard the ‘Falcons’) to see Ginny leaning her chin on the heel of her hand, looking at him.

“Maman, uriner!�

“You mean you have to go, you can’t command your mum to,� Bill said, chuckling and infecting everyone else with mirth as Victoire stuck her tongue out at him.

It broke the tension. Ginny removed her elbow from the table, turned away from him and answered something Angelina asked her. He regretted that. He’d missed those brown eyes. He had almost forgotten how much they shone, almost forgotten how translucent her skin was, how much that pert chin begged to be touched.

The brunch went on like any other. Harry even almost forgot about his initial panic about the ‘friendly’ match with the Falcons. Anecdotes of the babies were told and made much of. Percy often relapsed to bragging and always braked midway and suddenly pointed attention to Ron’s and George’s expansions of the shops, or inconsequentially wondered what Audrey might be doing just then. Normally, Harry found this hilarious and he never tired of Victoire’s and Louis’s antics either, but today, as she sat there beside him after five years’ worth of missing her or her just missing him at brunch or tea, it was too much. She was all he could take in. He was half happy and half furious. Because she would soon leave again.

It was like cruelly showing a cask of water to a parched man and giving him the smallest sip.

“When are you leaving?�

He’d said that quietly but all chatter ceased as if all of them had been listening for him to say something even as they bickered over the last tart and carved huge chunks of chocolate gateau onto their plates.

Ginny propped her elbow beside her plate again and cradled her cheek with a hand, smiling at him. “I’m not leaving. Didn’t you hear me say I went to the team offices? When is the one time a player goes to his or her team’s offices, Harry?�

“Oh. You quit the Harpies. You’ve been pirated by another team.� Or, Merlin, had she been drafted into the national team? His insides vanished at the mere thought.

“I quit the Harpies. Period.�

His insides returned, rejoicing, jumping up and down and jiggling his ribcage.

“I’ve had enough of your surly letters and I didn’t think the team could afford wasting any more prime tickets.�

It hurt him, how she sounded so sad when she said that. “What did you expect my letters to be, Ginny? First, you didn’t tell me you’d tried out for the Harpies, and then when you were drafted, you didn’t let me get a word in edgewise. You just went on and on about how we should explore our horizons for a bit—�

“I didn’t let you talk because if you so much as hinted you didn’t want to me to go, I would have stayed without question. And that’s so unfair since you were able to leave me during —�

“Not that again, you understood our position then! You think it’s been easy?�

“And do you think it’s been easy, enduring your absence then and during all my matches?�

“You think I want to come watch you being ogled and aimed at with Bludgers?�

She sighed exasperatedly. “I just told you I won’t be ogled and aimed at with Bludgers anymore. Happy?�

“Yes! Now settle down and marry me.�

“Fine.�

“What?� His insides had vanished again. Probably jumped too much and dropped somewhere past his legs.

“I said, fine, I’ll marry you.�

Molly choked on a sob.

Ginny heard and blushed.

Harry heard and all his blood followed his insides to his feet. He and Ginny had completely forgotten where they were.



~She’s smiling like she used to smile way back then,
she’s feeling like she used to feel way back when
they tried but something kept them...



“Right, let’s see you and Hermione top that, Ron.�

“Shut up, George!� Hermione, Angelina and her mother all snarled. Ron laughed.

Ginny bit her cheeks. The enormity and absurdity of what they’d just done sunk in and amusement replaced the mortification. It didn’t help that Harry looked whiter than Louis’s bib. She failed to hold it in and held on to the table as she shook with giggles.

When she could breathe and see again, Harry was no longer pallid but pink.

“Laugh it off, Harry.�

He flushed harder. “I was serious.�

A half-frown mingled with her grin. “So was I.�

“Don’t think you can get off either, Potter. We’re all witnesses,� Charlie mock-growled.

Ginny scowled at her brother but decided to take hold of Harry’s cheek in case he went and attempted to suffocate himself on his plate of potatoes and gravy. He was mortified, it was plain to see. He had blurted in anger something she’d bet he’d have preferred to ask. And not in front of her family and his friends, and on Sunday brunch.

Yet it was perfect though the question had been a demand. She felt blissful. She felt no compulsion to even wish what had happened to happen any other way at all.

“Saved us an awkward announcement, Harry,� she said, grinning. Under the table, she squeezed his hand, conveying—despite her jocular tone— sympathy, understanding, love. “Saved you from agonising over what won’t matter in the long run. And look, none of them seem murderous. Dad’s gone to the kitchen though. We don’t know what he might be fetching from there.�

Predictably, his head snapped up to look toward the kitchen in alarm. Ginny bit her cheeks again.

Arthur came out holding... not a cleaver. A green bottle. Unless he was planning to clobber Harry with it, it wasn’t lethal. With a wave of her father’s wand, flutes were filled and distributed to everyone.

“Well, to Ginny and Harry and their coming wedding!�

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to ask her! I mean, I did mean to ask her, I’ve always done, and I’m glad I asked her. But not like that. But I didn’t really ask her, did I – that was stupid, and —�

“Harry! For goodness’s sake. It’s fine.� She could feel the blood pumping in her face. It didn’t help that though Hermione was laughing fit to kill at Harry’s face and babble, she was also tapping a spoon on the side of her champagne flute.

After a moment in which Harry was laughed at while Arthur clapped him on the back and Molly wrung a napkin to death in sheer gladness, he obeyed the musical tapping, and Ginny was back in the Gryffindor common room, wearing Gryffindor Quidditch robes, fresh from winning the Cup for him. Only this time it was her family making noise in the background, though it was the same overwhelming exhilaration in her, at winning something much more immense and intense than a Cup.

And then they were walking again, hand in hand. Not to a lake, but to the pond. They strolled along the bank.

“I was punishing you, you know.�

“What?�

Ginny felt her face warm again. “No, of course not, I’m only—�

He squeezed her hand, understanding and accepting. “Go on, tell me.�

“Well, I wanted to get away a little, I did tell you. I needed some distraction after Fred. We all did. And being drafted to the Harpies seemed so perfect. I’d be going places and training. But I felt so bad and guilty. I missed you so much. I came home not a week after I left, hoping you’d be there. You weren’t. And I was still too afraid to see you alone in case I crumple and ditch my contract. After that, I always seem to miss you when I come and I always beg them not to call you to come when I’m the one to arrive first. When I received your first very surly letter though, what I thought was, ‘it’s your turn’.�

Relief flooded her when he just grinned. “Well, we’re even now, aren’t we?�

“No. We will never be even. You’re Harry Potter, after all— let me finish! One time while we were training, a meteor zoomed past right in front of me. No one else saw it. It was cloudy. But I saw it. It was mine. I felt disbelief and I felt so... special at the same time. That’s how I feel right now. I love you so much. I’m being a ninny again. I sound like I’m fifteen—�

He caressed her chin with his thumb. “And I love you. You’ve never been a ninny, Ginny.� He laughed at that and she had to grin, blush notwithstanding. “Remember what I told you in the lake? That I’d never notice anyone else?* I don't see who I am or what I've done at all, alright? I only see you. It's much the same with your meteor. A pity it didn’t collide with you and burned you to a crisp, though. I was so mad with you.�

He said that with a straight face. Ginny smacked his hand away from her chin and pretended to stalk off, grinning. He followed her, grabbed her hand, lifted their laced fingers so he could put his arm around her shoulder, and kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips.

“I was so mad because you presumed I wouldn’t let you go, that I’d keep you from something that would make you happy. And you’re wrong about me being absent in all your matches. I didn’t miss even one. I spent my own money to watch you, that’s all. Always on the top box. I always go to the VIP lounge outside your locker room, too. Erm, cloaked.�

He didn’t duck in time.

What with pummelling and kissing him, Ginny couldn’t be blamed for not noticing the ring until her mother spotted it, shrieked, and gushed over it.