Mischief

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Chapter 1

Bad luck...or jealous pixie?

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Ginny snuck an arm around Harry and nuzzled the back of his neck.

"Hmmm. Good morning," Harry muttered sleepily, not opening his eyes.

"Morning," she returned with a sly smile.

Their first day in their new home. Man, she had so much unpacking to do.

But that mess could wait. The blankets were warm, Harry was warm, and the soft sunlight coming through the curtains was not quite bright enough to force her out of bed.

She had been disappointed when Harry wanted this place. Ginny was not a "cabin in the woods" kind of girl. But if every morning was like this, then she did not mind so much. The sounds of birds outside and the tall green trees were rather romantic.

An icy cold drop of water smacked her in the eye, rudely jolting her from her sleepy thoughts. She wiped it away with the palm of her hand.

Great. A leaky roof. But she did not hear any rain. Perhaps morning dew caused the leak?

Another droplet fell, smacking her in the nose this time. After the third drop, Ginny sighed and sat up with a groan.

Stupid cabin. Stupid nature.

She had never learned any spells for fixing roofs. She would have to ask Hermione later. Or maybe Harry knew what to do.

She rested her arms on her knees and looked about the unfamiliar place. Their room was a pig sty of boxes and hastily placed furniture. They had been so excited yesterday that they worked until they almost passed out. Now she faced the tedium of having to sort all this crap.

Yet another wet drop landed on her, in her eye again. So there were multiple leaks, and apparently none of them were above Harry's side of the bed. She huffed in annoyance, and flipped the covers off.

She had tried to talk Harry out of the old grungy cabin, but Harry had his heart set on the place and none of the cozy flats in Hogsmeade could change his mind. Well, maybe she would like it more once she fixed the roof and unpacked their things.

She sleepily stumbled towards the kitchen and, despite taking care to watch her step, she stubbed her toe on the door frame. Clenching her teeth, she hissed several fowl words and balanced on one leg while she rubbed her foot.

I take it back. This morning sucks.

If she was going to cook their first official breakfast in their new house, then the first thing she had to do was find out where the box of kitchen supplies had landed in the mess. Her toe still throbbing, she limped into the kitchen.

She raised her wand and said, "Point me, cooking stuff." The wand swung, aiming towards the far corner.

A couple minutes later she scratched her head, confused. She had searched all of the boxes, and they all contained clothing and books.

Huh. Perhaps she should be more specific.

"Point me, spoons."

Now the wand pointed towards the living room. The five boxes in the living room were not what she was looking for either. She had written "Kitchen" on the box she needed, and none of these were labeled so. But in their haste and excitement, maybe the contents had gotten mixed up somehow.

She opened each of the boxes. No pots and pans. Where had they disappeared to?

"Point me, pans!"

The wand pointed at the door. Had they left a box outside? But they had taken their things through the floo!

Ginny opened the door and peered out. Sure enough, a box with "Kitchen" written on the front sat on the front walk. How had it gotten out here? Harry was as bad as Ron sometimes.

She shivered in her thin night shirt. She should put a robe one first, but the box sat a measly distance away, and if she hurried there was no need to go through the trouble of dressing. And it was not like they had any neighbors out here at the ends of the earth.

She braced herself, and then zipped outside. The moment her hands touched the card board, a freezing gust of wind swept by. She turned to sprint inside.

SLAM!

Oh, crap.

"Damn, damn, damn, damn..."

Ginny balanced the box on her hip so that she could turn the door knob. It did not turn.

Her profanities took a steep plunge.

She fumbled for her wand. It should be in one of the large side pockets of her night shirt. She stashed it there before she came outside. She remembered putting it in her pocket. It was only a few seconds ago.

So where the fuck was it?

Furious, she dropped the box on the porch and ran around to the bedroom window on her tip toes.

"Harry?" she called, hugging herself and hopping from foot to foot.

It was late June, but that did not matter much up in the mountains.

"Harry! I'm outside! Open the door!"

The cabin was built upon a lifted foundation, so the window was too high for her to see inside. She banged on the glass.

"HARRY! Wake up and let me in!"

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The smell of freshly cooked bacon and eggs lured Harry out of bed and into the kitchen. A full plate awaited him at their little round table. He scooted in his chair and picked up the fork.

Wow! This was by far the best meal Ginny had ever cooked. The bacon was heavenly, crunchy and juicy and downright delicious. She must have gotten some tips from Molly before they left, since neither he nor Ginny had a talent for cooking. But her attempts were edible, at least, so she took on the chore when they could not eat out.

Then again, she probably brought this back from her mother's. Harry glanced around the empty kitchen, and wondered if she might still be there.

"Ginny?" he called, and got no reply.

Yes, that must be what happened.

He savored the meal, but soon he swallowed the last bite and finished his milk. Now what to do...

Moving in was simple. Settling in felt like staring at a cauldron in Professor Snape's class. Where to even begin?

The mess could wait a bit. This was his first day in his new home, and he had not gotten the time to appreciate it since signing the deed. He went back to the bedroom and put on his robe over his pajamas. Ginny must have unpacked a couple things, for he found his slippers right by the bed. He padded to the front door and stood in the frame, admiring his front yard.

Or "front forest" rather. The grassy yard extended a short ways from the front porch and then vanished at the tree line. He had not noticed before, but there were delicate blue and pink wildflowers scattered about the lawn. Two bright butterflies fluttered past his face and landed on a clump of these growing by the porch steps.

He loved this place. It was so beautiful and so free. Out here, he could do whatever he wanted, be whoever he wanted. And after serving as savior for the wizarding world, he needed some freedom to discover himself.

What do I want?

He had not been allowed to ask that question while Voldemort was alive. Now that he could ask it, he did not know how to answer. But the answer did not matter, just so long as he had the freedom to ask.

"Harry? What the FUCK?"

Harry jerked in surprise. Ginny was standing by the side of the house, glaring at him in fury. He blinked.

Shivering in nothing but her night clothes, she ran up and pushed past him, muttering a stream of cuss words as she went.

"Do you know how fucking cold it is out there?" she shrieked from the bedroom.

Harry followed after her, utterly confused. The bedroom door was shut and locked, so he leaned against it and asked, "What were you doing out there?"

"What was I DOING? I was getting the fucking box that you fucking left outside you fucking...augh! And the fucking door shut so I was stuck outside in the FUCKING COLD because my wand disappeared to wherever the fuck..."

Harry let her talk while he tried to piece together the coherent parts. Ginny embodied the Weasley temper, a trait she inherited from Molly. Most of the time the quirk endeared him, though she certainly did not act endearing when she got like this. Watching Arthur Weasley's example, he had learned that the best way to handle her mood was to remain calm until it passed.

"You got locked outside?" he stupidly asked before he could shut his mouth.

"I was banging on your window! I screamed for help! What the hell were you doing this whole time?"

"Um...eating breakfast."

Her silence frightened him. Yelling meant she was angry. Silence meant she was about to explode in flames.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart." He purposely used the pet name to try to sooth her. "I didn't now you were stuck out there! I didn't hear a thing, I swear! I saw the food on the table, and I thought you went to your mother's or something."

The door shot open, and one very pissed off red head glared at him.

"Food? I was out there getting the pots so that I could make breakfast."

Harry tugged her into his arms and rubbed her bare skin, trying to warm her. He felt guilty. She must have been out there for a long time.

"Maybe Molly stopped by," he said as he kissed her hair.

She gave in and hugged him back.

What a terrible start to the first day of our lives together, she thought. Nothing to get superstitious about. Just bad luck.

"What did Mum bring?"

"Bacon and eggs. They're in the kitchen."

Harry walked her to the kitchen. Ginny had specifically requested that her family not drop in on her for a few weeks, but she was hungry and grateful that her mother had done so this one time.

"Um, where is it?" She asked, seeing nothing but an empty kitchen.

Harry suddenly looked ashamed.

"...Whoops. Maybe...maybe that plate was meant for both of us..."

"Harry James Potter!"

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Draco bared his razor teeth in frustration. He had hoped the harlot would be so enraged that she would storm back to wherever she came from.

Well, if she was going to persist in existing, then Draco was going to persist in getting rid of her.

The stupid girl should know better. Anyone who disrespected a sprite in their territory was asking for trouble. And with the way the girl pawed at his love...

Well, she was lucky to be dealing with a kind, forgiving sprite like Draco. Most sprites were not lenient with disrespectful house guests. Which meant all of them since not-sprites, especially humans with the exception of his pretty, were barely smarter than animals.

Take the girl for instance. He had shut her out, and she still did not understand that she should leave! He would have to be more direct.

"Don't be mad," his pretty, 'Harry' the human was called, said to the harlot. "I'll make you breakfast and bring it to you in bed. Come on, let's get you under the covers."

The harlot sniffed and let him take her back to the bedroom.

"Right, as if you can cook..." he heard her say as she left.

That gave him an idea.

He hopped down from the cupboard and darted into a concealed round door by the faucet. It opened into a maze of elaborate tunnels that Draco had carved himself years ago. He raced through them until he came to a door that took him outside, right to where the harlot had left the box of human food tools. He used his magic to transport the contents of the box to their proper places in the kitchen. Then he ran back to the kitchen, this time using a door that opened out near the oven.

He danced across the stove top, making sure that the food would burn. Then he flew to the top of the refrigerator and ensured that the food would taste bland when it touched her tongue. If she had not offended him, he might have stopped there. But since she was being so damned persistent and was tricking his Harry into caring for her, he weaved one last nasty spell that would make his mother proud.

He cackled.

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When Harry came back to the kitchen, he heard a high pitched chatter and chirping noise that could have sounded like a cricket laughing. Curious, he searched for the sound, but did not find the insect.

It never occurred to him that the dishes Ginny had gone outside for were now neatly stacked in the cupboards.

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AN: This will be the only time that I ask: Please leave a review. Reviews are appreciated, but they aren't required for updates. I usually update every two weeks, sometimes faster.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.