Harry stared for a moment longer in surprise before getting up and walking over to the counter. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

Draco Malfoy shook his head, a mock expression of hurt crossing his pointed features. "Come now, Potter. Is that how they taught you to respond to people? Whatever happened to 'How may I be of service, Mr Malfoy?' "

"Sorry, I don't think I heard you right. It sounded to me like you were mistaking yourself for someone important."

"What's the matter? Too good to be a civil servant?" He shook his head. "The great Harry Potter, relegated to an entry-level position in the Ministry. How my heart bleeds for you."

"Who are you here to see, Malfoy? If you have business in this department, things can't be going all that well for you, can they? Are they fitting out a private cell in Azkaban for you?"

"I was on Dumbledore's side in the last battle."

"So you say. It must have suited your ends. But someone must not believe you if you're here."

"That's none of your business, Potter."

Malfoy's face was beginning to flush pink, and Harry reckoned he must have touched a nerve. "Who are you were to see?" he asked again. "Whoever it is, maybe they'll be good enough to get you a reduced sentence."

"Hill," Malfoy grated.

Harry grinned. "Head of the division. Things must be really bad then."

"Just shut up and do what they're paying you to do. And for your information, if I was under suspicion of anything, I'd be talking to my own, private solicitor, not using one of the Ministry's."

Harry shrugged. "I just reckoned any solicitor your family had retained would be in as much trouble as you are. But have it your way. Hill's office is through that door." He indicated Hill's office by pointing. He'd be damned if he was going to lead Malfoy over to the office like some butler. "Don't forget to knock."

Draco sneered at Harry before heading towards Badon Hill's office. Harry felt a grim sort of satisfaction at the sound of knuckles on wood that reached his ears as he regained his desk. He sighed heavily. The law books hadn't magically disappeared or become any smaller while he'd been seeing to Malfoy.

He sat down again and forced himself to read about the trial of Hermenegild the Hideous, who'd been accused of bewitching Muggles to make their skin shrivel so that he could use it for potions ingredients, but who had been let off on a technicality, leading to the 1354 reform of… Harry felt himself drifting off into a stupor once more, as the words seemed to blur on the page. How anyone ever managed to stay awake long enough to get through this was beyond him.

Harry redoubled his efforts at concentration and began again. Some indeterminate time amount of later, a shadow fell across the page he was reading. "What are you doing, Potter? Trying to bore yourself silly?"

Harry sighed. Malfoy was back. "Don't you have somewhere else you need to be?" Harry asked peevishly. "I hear the holding cells down at the Auror division are quite cosy."

Malfoy looked at his watch with nonchalance. "As a matter of fact, I do have another appointment here, but it isn't for another half an hour."

"Well, you're not going to kill time by bothering me. I've got work to do."

"So I see." Malfoy turned the cover of Harry's book over so he could read it. "The Excruciating Details of Every Single Dark Arts Trial in Britain for the Past Millennium. Sounds fascinating. Do they actually pay you to sit round all day and read this rubbish?"

"At least I've got a job. That's more than I can say for your sorry Death Eater arse."

"That's what you think."

"That's what I know."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "You don't know anything."

"I know what you've got on your arm."

"And what's that?" Malfoy was suddenly rolling up the left sleeve of his robes. "There! See that?" He'd thrust his left arm in front of Harry's face. The skin on his forearm was perfectly clear and smooth.

"What did you do, Malfoy? How did you manage to get rid of it?"

"I didn't have to do a thing. It went away on its own." He was rolling his sleeve back down now. "It started fading after the battle in Hogsmeade. A few days later, it was gone entirely."

Harry stared at Malfoy but there was no lie discernible in the Slytherin's features.

"You see, there's no way of telling I ever had it." Malfoy sounded quite pleased with himself.

Harry didn't know what to say. His mind started whirling with thoughts. If the Dark Mark had disappeared from the forearms of all of Voldemort's former followers, then how was the Ministry going to be able to tell who had actually been a Death Eater and who hadn't? He suddenly began to understand what Mr Weasley and others had meant when they'd tried to explain how confusing times had been for the Ministry following Voldemort's first defeat. But then he remembered the Sincerity Charm Hill had used on him earlier. It had been a recent development, Hill had said. The Ministry could avail themselves of that and send the right people to prison this time.

Draco spoke again, bringing Harry out of his musings. "Well, it's been fun, Potter, but I really must be off. I've got another appointment, and it's probably going to take a while before I find where I need to be."

Harry watched Malfoy's retreating back, happy that he wasn't the only person who found the Ministry's labyrinthine passages confusing. He wondered what other department Malfoy could possibly have business with, and he wondered what Malfoy had been talking to Hill about. Malfoy had been right about one thing. If he was talking to the Ministry solicitors, he had to be co-operating in some capacity. And he had been on Dumbledore's side in Hogsmeade… Could Snape have somehow convinced him he was better off on that side? But he'd had the Dark Mark… Although he hadn't seemed to happy about that fact when Harry had discovered it last winter. Perhaps he had been forced into getting it. But just maybe the fact that he'd had it had put him into a position where he could name names, and perhaps that's what his meeting with Hill had been about. It might be worth discussing with Ron and Hermione that evening…

No, he couldn't do that. He'd sworn not to discuss anything that happened in this office. If he was going to work things like this out, he was on his own now. He'd just have to keep his eyes and ears open… With a final sigh he went back to his books.

It was a while before Harry got another excuse to stop reading. The sound of someone clearing her throat made him look up, grateful for the distraction. He found Delores Mutt peering directly at him from behind her spectacles. Their eyes were at the same level, Harry realised, even though he was seated and she was standing. Funny, he thought, she hadn't seemed like such a wisp of a woman when he'd met her earlier. Now she struck him as positively delicate, as if the slightest breeze might knock her over. She began to smile at him in what he thought must be a grandmotherly sort of way, as she offered him a piece of parchment.

"I have a list of files I need you to pull for me, dear," she said in a kindly tone.

Harry took the parchment from her and read it. It looked to him like nothing but a jumble of meaningless numbers and letters. He shook his head, thinking he'd become addled by his most recent reading material and hoping to clear it, but the parchment remained just as incomprehensible, reminding him of the books of runes he'd gone through last spring. He looked from the filing cabinets back to the parchment several times but saw nothing on any of the drawers that might indicate which file would be found where or indeed whether the files were stored in these particular cabinets at all.

He could feel Mrs Mutt's expectant gaze on him and felt as if he ought to at least make an attempt to find what she wanted. She seemed quite a sweet old lady, after all, and he felt as if he wanted to please her. He opened a drawer at random.

"Not that one, dear." Mrs Mutt's voice cracked through the air, causing him to jump at its sudden sharpness.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled. His surprise at her sudden change in demeanour was quickly overtaken by a rising sense of irritation that she should snap at him when he hadn't been shown how the system worked. He began to reach for the next drawer.

"No, no! Didn't St John show you anything?"

Harry's face began to burn as he turned and faced Mrs Mutt. "No, actually, he didn't. He said I could work it out on my own."

"Typical," Mrs Mutt muttered. "When are they going to hire someone who knows how to do his job properly?"

"I'm sorry," Harry replied as politely as he could, given the increasing annoyance he was feeling. "It's only my first day, and I wasn't shown…"

"Oh, I wasn't referring to you, dear." Mrs Mutt took a step closer and said in a confidential tone, "I meant St John. Between you and me, he's rather a…" -- she used a word Harry would have never expected out of Ron's mouth, let alone such a grandmotherly sort--"…isn't he?"

Harry gaped for a moment, and then he had to struggle to keep down the laughter that wanted to escape. He couldn't stop himself from grinning, however. "I've only just met him, but, yeah, I can see where you'd get that idea."

"Let's put it this way, dearie. I've worked in this office a good, long time. We've never had a clerk last as long as he did."

"No disrespect, but it doesn't seem to be the most exciting job in the world."

"No, but was he clever enough to get something else? In any case, it's an entry-level position. You're not supposed to keep it for very long. If you do your job properly and show the merest modicum of intelligence, you get promoted within a year or two. He had your job for the last fifteen years. The only reason they promoted him at all was out of desperation. We're going to find ourselves swamped with cases, dearie, you mark my words. I remember the first time it happened." Harry saw her flick her snapping eyes upwards for a second, and she gave a nod of acknowledgement.

Her words made Harry concerned about the possibility of some of Voldemort's followers escaping imprisonment due to St John's apparent incompetence. He looked worriedly over towards St John's desk, wondering what he'd make of this conversation if he knew about it, but St John's head was bent over a parchment. His lips were moving as he evidently read it over, and Harry remembered there were Silencing Charms cast about each solicitor's desk. "But if he's not qualified, won't that…"

Mrs Mutt cut him off. "Oh, if Hill knows what he's doing, and he does, he'll give St John all the easy cases, and hopefully they'll be insignificant ones as well, because he'll find a way to bollox them up."

Harry thought of Percy and how well he'd had to do on his NEWTs to get an entry-level job like this one. Then he remembered Mr Weasley's reaction to Harry's own exam results. Something didn't quite add up about St John. "But how'd he get a Ministry position in the first place if he isn't that clever? He'd've to have done well on his NEWTs."

"I wouldn't know about that, dearie. It wasn't my decision to hire him. All I know is he had some sort of family connections that helped him out. He couldn't have done well on his exams. He isn't clever enough. But, well, that's the Ministry for you," she said resignedly. "Come on then," she added abruptly. I haven't got all day. Let me show you how the filing system works, and then I'll show you the wonders of the Ministry canteen."

Mrs Mutt was the second person today who had told him she didn't have all day, but Harry wasn't left with quite the same impression this time.

*

Ginny tried to make herself concentrate on her History of Magic homework, but she wasn't having a whole lot of luck. She really wasn't any further along with it than she had been almost three weeks ago. She'd hoped to get it finished today, since the Burrow was nearly empty, but thoughts of Harry and how he was getting on his first day at work kept intruding. He'd be home soon, she told herself, and then she'd know. Until then, she really ought to be getting something constructive done.

Ron was sitting across the room from her, idly moving chess pieces around on the board. He didn't seem to be faring any better than she was. It was probably even worse for him, because he couldn't even pretend to be doing homework while he waited for Hermione to come home.

Not even the out-of-doors beckoned to either of them today. The weather was grey and blustery. There was nothing to do but sit in the house and wait.

A sudden pop in the room startled Ginny. She turned to see that Hermione had appeared looking very pleased with herself.

"What did I tell you this morning?" asked Ron. "You were fine, weren't you?"

Ginny turned away while they kissed. "How was your day?" she heard her brother murmur.

"Tiring," came Hermione's reply. "There's more to running a library than I thought. I just spent the entire day learning the intricacies of the cataloguing system."

"All the time you spent there, and you don't have it memorised by now?"

"It's not as simple as you think, Ron. I may be familiar enough with it to find what I want, but when it comes to classifying a new book, that another story entirely. Loads of them are straightforward, but what do you do with Wolfsbane, Poison or Pal?"

Ron shrugged and looked blank. "Herbology?" he guessed at last. "Wait, no… Snape made a Potion out of that for Professor Lupin, so Potions."

"Yes, but don't you remember? We studied werewolves in Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Oh, so it goes with those books then."

"Actually, no it doesn't."

"Where does it go then? Certainly not in the Care of Magical Creatures section?"

"Of course it doesn't."

"Well, where does it go then?"

As Ginny watched, Hermione started to go pink, and she didn't reply.

"You don't know, do you?"

"I haven't got that one sorted yet. Madam Pince said she'd help me with that one tomorrow. We only got to it at the end of the day when it was time to go home."

"That was a trick question then!"

"It was not!"

"Yes, it was. You didn't know the answer! But don't worry, I still love you even if you aren't as perfect as I thought."

Ginny almost choked at that, and Hermione started to splutter. But before she could say anything further, Ginny's mother walked into the living room. "Oh, Hermione, you're home," she said smiling. "How was your day, dear?"

"Just fine, thanks."

"Ginny," her mother said, "you wouldn't happen to know where I put my copy of One Minute Feasts--It's Magic, would you?"

"Sorry, Mum, I haven't seen it."

"Don't bother asking Hermione, Mum," Ron added. "She doesn't know where all the books go yet."

"Honestly, Ron!" Hermione replied, swatting him on the arm.

Before anyone could add anything else, a whirring sound was heard from the corner. Ginny looked to see the longest hand on the grandfather clock was in motion, passing from "work" to "travelling" to "home" in the space of a few seconds. She got up from her seat and headed into the kitchen to find her father emerging from the fireplace bearing a bulky package. He was followed by a tired-looking Harry, who had his arms full of books.

"Hello, Harry, dear. Why don't you put those books down. They must be heavy. What have you got now, Arthur?" came her mother's voice from behind Ginny, and it was amazing how quickly her tone had changed mid-statement. An instant later, she had entered the kitchen and was looking suspiciously at the package at her husband's feet, while Harry laid his burden on the counter.

"I'm not quite sure, actually," replied Ginny's father. "Someone in the Muggle Artefact Division of American Department of Magic sent it to our office. He thought we might be interested."

"So you thought it would be a good idea to bring it home and tinker with it? Do you even know what it does?"

"Well, no, but I reckoned if I took it apart I could work out what it was for. So far I've worked out that it runs on eckeltricity--it has a plug--and if I just enchanted…"

"No, Arthur."

"No?"

"Don't you have enough contraptions that are half taken apart in that shed of yours? How long has that laundry machine been in there gathering dust? And you want to add to the clutter? And don't think I've forgotten what happened with that car…"

Ginny caught Harry's eye and motioned with her head to come into the living room while her parents finished discussing her father's latest acquisition. Ginny was used to this argument. It always began the same way, with her mother protesting, but somehow her father always managed to keep whatever it was he wanted to fiddle with. She didn't doubt for a moment that her father was about to add to his collection of Muggle gadgets.

Harry followed her into the living room, and she had just squeezed his hand and was about to ask him how his day had gone, when something else caught her attention. Ron and Hermione had remained behind when the rest of them had gone into the kitchen, and it was now apparent why they'd done so. They were currently quite occupied.

Ginny leaned up and gave Harry a quick peck on the lips, before giving him a mischievous grin. Then she turned to Ron and Hermione and did her best impression of her mother. "And just what is going on in here? If you think this is the spot to have a conjugal visit, you have another think coming!"

Ron and Hermione jumped apart amazingly fast. "Ginny, what's the idea?" Ron demanded, his ears reddening. Hermione had placed a hand over her heart.

"Just thought someone else might want to know how it feels," Ginny replied in her most innocent voice.

"Oh, we know how it feels, believe me…"

"How was your day, Harry?" Hermione intervened before a row could break out.

"Very long," Harry replied, and Ginny thought he sounded tired. "And you'll never guess who I saw… Sorry."

"Who?" asked Ron.

"Er, sorry, I'm not supposed to say. I had to take an oath of confidentiality."

"You can still tell us, can't you?" Ron prodded.

"No, he can't," said Hermione. "He's under oath. You'd best get used to it. I imagine you're going to have to take something similar once you become an Auror."

"Can you at least tell us what you do?" Ron tried again.

"It's not very exciting. So far I've done a lot of sitting around reading law books. When I'm not fetching things for people, that is."

"Law books?" said Hermione. "I imagine there's quite a few interesting cases in them. You wouldn't mind if I took a look at them, would you? Are you allowed to show them to me?"

"I don't see why not. But they're about as interesting as Professor Binns."

Ginny was getting the distinct feeling that this job really wasn't going to prove to be a good match for Harry. He definitely didn't sound very enthusiastic about it. The idea gave her an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Ever since they'd talk things out, she'd been feeling a bit more hopeful about the future. She'd stopped worrying that she'd wake up one morning and find he'd left the wizarding world. But now that feeling was returning, seeping back into her heart like icy water. If he felt like there was nothing worthwhile that he could do in the wizarding world, and if this was truly the only job he was qualified to do, then he might still leave them. On top of that she'd be leaving for school in less than a month. She wasn't going to be around to see Harry from day to day, should he give any sort of sign he might be thinking along those lines.

She also remembered that she'd asked him to try a Ministry position and he'd agreed. What if he stayed in a job where he was essentially unhappy for her sake? She didn't think she wanted to deal with that thought either.

Her mother was calling them to come in to supper, and Ginny tried to chase her gloomy thoughts away, but they stayed with her during the meal. She played with her food while the conversation seemed to revolve around the inevitable changes that were going to take place whether she wanted them to or not. The twins announced that they'd be moving back into Zonko's and taking Pauline with them, which earned George a stern glance from his mother. While Ginny was glad her mother's ire was directed elsewhere for once, she still found it a bit ridiculous at George's age, especially when he'd been living at Zonko's with Pauline the entire previous year.

Hermione would be leaving soon, as well, to stay at Hogwarts, but she wouldn't be leaving until the following week when Ron left for Auror training. Ginny's mum had pretended to wipe a tear from her eye, saying all her babies were leaving her, but Ginny wasn't sure she was being completely facetious.

Bill was the only one who was going to remain at home for the moment. He was anxious to get back to his job in Egypt, but he was still waiting on word from the Order if his services were still required. They didn't seem to be, but he hadn't been released from duty either. Until he was, he remained in a sort of limbo.

As everyone was leaving the table, Ginny's mum suddenly said, "Oh, Harry, I completely forgot. This came for you while you were at the Ministry today."

She was holding out a letter, which Harry took. Ginny caught a glimpse of the address, but while the writing may have been somewhat familiar, she didn't recognise who had sent it immediately. Harry obviously did, for he got out of his seat, excusing himself in a rather distracted fashion, and left the kitchen.

Ginny wanted to follow him right away, but at the same time she knew she ought to let him read his letter in private. Based on Harry's reaction, she suspected it was Professor Lupin's reply to the letter Harry had written to him almost a week ago. Her mother was also asking for help in clearing the table.

Ginny soon found herself doing the washing up with Hermione. "Did you get a chance to do any research?" she asked after making sure no one else was within earshot.

"No, I had too many other things to keep me occupied. Once I've learned how everything works, I'll have more time for it. I don't really expect to get started before the first of September, though. Sorry."

Ginny nodded. "It's frustrating, isn't it? I have to sit around the house and do homework that I don't particularly want to do, and you've got a whole library full of books you could be going through, and you can't."

"September will be here soon enough."

"It'll come too fast for me. As much as I want to find a way to help Harry, I don't want to leave…"

Mr Weasley came through the kitchen, cutting Ginny off. "You're not planning on spending the entire evening in your shed, are you, Arthur?" her mother's voice called after him.

"I've got to find something I can use to make Harry a Portkey, Molly," he called back. "We can't keep going into the Ministry by Floo. It'll look funny."

Ginny's mother joined them in the kitchen. "Yes, but a Portkey?" she replied, sounding worried. Ginny exchanged a glance with Hermione. Although Harry would never complain about it, they all knew he'd preferred other means of travel ever since the end of his fourth year. Unfortunately there didn't seem to be much other choice now.

"It's the best solution I can come up with, Molly. A very small Portkey, one he can hide in his pocket or conceal in his hand, which will allow him to travel between here and the Ministry. If no one knows any differently, they'll think he's Apparating. I can set it to come out at the Ministry's Apparition point."

Ginny's mother sighed. "I suppose if there's no other way…"

"I can't think of one, can you?"

Her mother relented at that point, and her father continued out to his shed. "You go on, girls," her mother said to them. "I'll finish up in here."

It didn't take long for Hermione to disappear outside with Ron. Ginny found Harry alone in the living room reading over his letter. She wanted very much to ask Harry what was in the letter, but she wasn't sure how to go about asking him. It wasn't technically any of her business. She also wanted him to tell her how he really felt about his job at the Ministry, but she hesitated, thinking it might be better if the decision to tell her came from him for once. She'd bullied him into sharing a lot of things with her lately, and perhaps it was time to lighten up a bit in that regard.

He looked up as she sat down beside him. "Hi," she said.

"Hi yourself."

He casually draped an arm across the back of the sofa on which they were sitting. "Where is everyone? How did we get so lucky as to actually get a minute alone without your mother turning up?"

Ginny snuggled closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. "She's in the kitchen. I expect she'll turn up any moment now. I missed you today."

"Me too."

"How'd it go today. Really?" The words had come out before she could stop them.

"There's a real git in the office. Everyone else seems quite decent, though. It'll get better once I'm used to things. You've got competition, you know."

"What?"

"I got asked to lunch today. You'll want to watch out."

"By who?"

"Oh, she's really cute, she is."

"Who is she? And did you go?"

"Of course, I went. Not every day a girl like her tries to chat you up."

"You're having me on."

"I am not. I did get asked to lunch."

"There's a catch to it somewhere."

"How do you know?"

"You're laying it on a bit thick."

Harry chuckled. "Well, she's got to be a hundred if she's a day. Nice old lady though. Although I think I want to stay on her good side. You don't want to know how she refers to the git."

"Oh, I don't know about that."

Harry leaned over and whispered something in her ear that made her eyes go round with surprise. At the same time she shivered at the sensation of his warm breath in her ear. "I think I'll have to meet this lady myself just to see if I've really got competition."

"You're going to have to come into Diagon Alley for your school things at some point. You could drop by and visit on my lunch hour."

"As long as I don't find you have a previous engagement."

She'd meant it lightly but it didn't come out quite the way she'd expected. The reminder of school and their impending separation had made her voice catch slightly.

Harry's hand slipped from the back of the sofa to her shoulder and squeezed. "I was just kidding, you know."

"I know, but maybe you want a woman with eighty-odd years more experience than I've got."

"Hey!" Harry cried in mock outrage, before he swatted her with the envelope in his hand.

"Is that from Professor Lupin?"

"Yeah."

"What does he say?"

"In my letter to him I told him how I'd been acting, well, before. When we first got back from school. And I told him I didn't really like how I'd been behaving towards everyone, and asked if there was anything I could do to stop. And he wrote back and told me if I'd worked out that much on my own, I was doing a pretty good job. And he said I should just try to talk about things more…"

"You can always talk to me, Harry. You know that."

"Yes, I know, but what am I going to do after this month?"

There it was again. "Write to me. Write to Professor Lupin. Write it down, and don't show anybody, but don't keep it inside."

"He wants me to tell Sirius."

"You're going to. You've always planned to."

"No, he wants me to tell him as soon as possible. He thinks I should ask Sirius to come and see me so I can tell him."

Something in Harry's tone told her he didn't think this was the best thing to do. "Why wouldn't you do that?"

"Because there's news in this letter, too. Sirius is really close to catching Wormtail. And if I ask him to drop everything and come here, Wormtail may slip through again. I can't let that happen. Sirius is on the verge being able to clear his name. I can't take that away from him for something like this."

"He's going to want to know, Harry."

"I'll tell him, I promise. I never had any intention of keeping this from him. I'll just wait till he's caught Wormtail."

"But you don't know how long that will take. What's Sirius going to think when he learns how long you've been keeping this from him? Everyone else knows but him."

"I can't take the chance of him dropping everything for me. He's done it before. In my fourth year he came out of hiding and risked being sent back to Azkaban because I'd had a bad dream."

"He wants to be there for you, Harry. You showed me what he wrote in his letter to you. How's he going to feel when he learns you needed him and he wasn't there for you? He wasn't able to be there for twelve years, and he feels bad about that."

"Yes, and it's all because of Wormtail that he couldn't. Now he's got a chance to clear that up. I can't give him reason to drop that. There will be plenty of time for me to tell him once this business with Wormtail is over."

"You have to let him know something's up."

"He knows. He said so in his letter. Lupin told him something."

"He needs to hear it from you, Harry. You can tell him to put catching Wormtail first, but he has to know you have something important to tell him so he'll come and see you right away."

She didn't add what else she was thinking: that now that Harry was out among other witches and wizards, the chances were greater that his secret would be discovered. And if that happened, the possibility of Sirius learning of it through a third party increased, and that definitely couldn't be allowed to occur.

Harry let out a breath, and Ginny could sense some tension drain out of him. He took his arm from around her shoulders and leaned forward burying his face in his hands for a moment. Then he pushed them back through his hair causing it to stand on end. "I suppose you're right," he said at last. "If I word things properly, he won't think it's an emergency and come running."

Ginny reached over and rubbed a hand over his back. "It'll be all right," she soothed.

He turned his face towards hers. "Promise?"

"You know I can't promise you something like that."

"Humour me."

"All right then…"

He was still holding her gaze. "You know, your mother has left us alone in here for quite a while now. You think there's a chance she's forgotten?"

"Not a chance. We can only hope she's decided to spy on Ron and Hermione for once. After all, I still owe you."

"Yeah, you do, don't you?"

She began to lean in, but Harry met her halfway. She needed to keep this quick and soft in case her mother, or worse one of the twins, walked in on them, but Harry seemed to have other ideas. He took over the kiss, deepening it, and making it last longer than she'd ever intended. Ginny's heart began to race. It had been so long since they'd opened themselves and poured their feelings into a kiss like this. She felt the backs of her eyes begin to prickle, and she had to pull away.

She stared into his burning eyes, lips parted and breathing hard. A smile was beginning to break over his features. "Fifteen," he whispered.

One of his hands found the back of her neck and slid up into her hair, cradling the back of her head, holding it steady, while his other arm encircled her waist. Slowly he slid closer to her, their eyes never breaking contact, but his lips didn't meet hers right away. As she'd done to him on his birthday, he gently touched them to each cheek, then the corners of her mouth, her forehead, and the tip of her nose.

She'd long since closed her eyes, but when he still didn't kiss her full on the lips, she opened them again. At the same time she felt his forehead touch hers, and his grip on her tightened. There was a great deal more passion in his gaze than she'd seen in a long time, perhaps more than she ever had. "I've missed this," he said.

"I've missed you, Harry."

"I love you, Ginny."

The very words caused her to shudder with need, and she reached up to him and closed the final gap, pulling him down with her, and then she forgot about the danger of being caught. She let him take his time and explore, while her hands softly caressed their way down the sides of his neck, over the upper part of his chest and around to his back. Then she simply held on and sought to draw him closer. She wanted to be close to him. As close as it was possible for two people to be…

"WHAT ON EARTH DO THE TWO OF YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

Ginny's heart began to beat even further out of control but it was due to panic this time at the sound of her mother's voice. Harry pulled back from her and righted himself, while she hastened to do the same. As she sat up she caught a glimpse of Harry's panicked expression.

Ginny felt the best way out of the situation was not to behave as if she'd been doing anything she ought to be ashamed of. She hadn't been after all. So she made herself face her mother's fury squarely, but she couldn't prevent the blush that insisted on staining her cheeks in spite of herself.

"Honestly, I can't let any of you out of my sight for more than a few minutes!" her mother was continuing. "I no sooner get through telling off Ron and Hermione for the same thing outside and I come in to find the two of you tearing each other's clothes off in my living room!"

Ginny felt irritation rising in her at her mother's blatant exaggeration. "Honestly, Mum! It's not as if we were doing anything like that!"

"And if I'd waited a few minutes longer?"

"We were just kissing. What's so wrong about that? It's not as if we ever get a chance round here in any case. Someone's always turning up."

"And a good thing, too. Look what the two of you get up to when you're left to your own devices!"

"We can control ourselves!"

Ginny's mother crossed her arms over her chest. "Is that what you call controlling yourselves?"

"We weren't going to do anything!"

"That's not what it looked like to me!"

"Oh please, Mum, Harry and I haven't done half the things the boys have done. We were only kissing."

"If you call that only kissing, young lady, I can see we need to have another talk!"

"What did you see, Mum? Were his hands anywhere they shouldn't have been? Were mine?"

Harry suddenly stood up, having evidently heard all he was prepared to of this conversation. "I think I'll leave the two of you to your talk then, shall I?"

Ginny took her eyes off her glaring mother long enough to take in Harry's red face. She grabbed his hand and pulled it forcefully enough to make him sit down again. "You're not going anywhere. We weren't doing anything we ought to be ashamed of, and it's time Mum realised that!"

"No, Ginny, I think Harry should leave."

"And I think he should stay."

Beside her, Ginny thought she heard Harry mumbling something about nobody caring what he wanted, but she ignored that for now. She had to remain focussed on her mother.

"I don't know what's got into you lately, Ginny," her mother was going on. "You've changed so much."

"I've grown up, mother, that's what happened. I'm seventeen now. I'm of age."

"If you're so grown up, I'd expect you to have more respect for your father and me."

"I do have respect for you. It was just a kiss, Mum. Can you honestly tell me you and Dad never kissed when you were our age?"

"Mrs Weasley," Harry broke in, "Ginny's telling you the truth. We haven't done anything like that. We'd never think of doing anything like that under your roof."

It was probably a mistake. Ginny's mother rounded on him. "You wouldn't think of doing anything under my roof? Just where were you planning on doing it then?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "That's not what I meant. I mean, of course we've thought about it, but we haven't done anything."

"Thought about what, exactly." Each word was said with a frightening calm.

"Harry," Ginny said quietly, "you're not helping."

"You should have let me leave when I wanted," he grated back at her.

The sound of someone clearing his throat made them all turn. Ginny's father was standing in the doorway that led in from the kitchen. "Arthur!" exclaimed Ginny's mother. "You're here."

"Yes, Molly, the shouting was a bit difficult to miss. I've heard quite a bit of this, actually."

"Well, say something to your daughter."

"Molly, I'm sure she and Harry weren't doing anything inappropriate. They probably just got a bit carried away."

"Arthur! With an attitude like that, I'm surprised I'm not a grandmother already!"

"I think we all need to calm down," said Ginny's father, ignoring his wife's outburst. "I think if Harry and Ginny promise to remain in control, everything will be fine. Molly…"

"Me? What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing dear, I just think you ought to give everyone a bit more space. I saw what happened with Ron and Hermione outside. Molly, it's all this hovering. They'll take any chance they can for a kiss here and there with you watching them so closely."

"A kiss? You call ripping each other's clothes off a kiss?"

"Molly, no one's clothes were being ripped off. Look at them. They're both fully clothed. Kids, can you make that promise?"

Harry gave a small start. "Yes… yes, sir. Ginny and I won't do anything we're not supposed to. Not here, not anywhere."

Ginny elbowed him in the ribs, not quite able to believe what he'd just promised when just a few minutes earlier… He took her hand and squeezed it hard, as if he knew she was about to blurt out something that would damn them both.

"Okay, then," Ginny's father said. "That settles that. Why don't you go upstairs and see how Ron and Hermione are getting on?"

"I thought they were outside. We didn't see them come through," said Ginny too quickly, before she realised there was perhaps a good reason she hadn't noticed their passing.

"I believe they Apparated upstairs in the face of your mother's wrath," replied her father, his eyes beginning to twinkle.

"Arthur!"

"Come on, Molly. I've got something interesting I'd like to show you in my shed."

Ginny was shocked to see her mother blush. She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat for a moment, but she also felt relief that the whole embarrassing row was over with.

Beside her, Harry stood and held out a hand. "Good thing that's over with."

Ginny took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. "Yeah. I don't want to go though that conversation ever again."

"We'll just have to make sure we never get caught like that again." Ginny nodded her agreement. "And it's probably not such a good idea for us to stay here at the scene of the crime, either."

Ginny couldn't agree more, so they both headed upstairs to see how Ron and Hermione had fared. At the first landing, Harry pulled her aside. "We were interrupted rather abruptly, weren't we?"

"Harry! You just promised dad…"

"I promised I wouldn't do anything I wasn't supposed to. From the sound of things, I don't think he has a problem with a kiss or two. You still owe me, in any case."

"I do, at that."

And so she proceeded to pay off her debt.

To Be Continued…

Monty Python last chapter: Obviously I needed to fish for the names of Harry's co-workers, and most of them are Python-inspired. Several of the names are taken from the Upperclass Twits of the Year sketch, most notably Gervaise St John, but also Vivian Brooke and Nigel Jones. Deirdre Pewty comes from the Marriage Guidance Counselor sketch. Badon Hill is from Monty Python and the Holy Grail (it's not a character name, it's the name of the battle where Sir Robin wet himself). Delores Mutt is not from Monty Python; it's a name I came across a while back and thought it definitely needed to be used.