Part Six – Harry's Gift

Harry awoke slowly, rolling over as his arm searched for…something. Blinking sleepily, his eyes popped open when he felt the sheet being tugged out from under his rear. He sat upright, panic setting in when he spotted Ginny at the foot of the bed wrapping his sheet around her bare body.

"Good morning," she whispered, smiling nervously. He really did not like the scared bunny look on her face one single bit. "I have practice in half an hour. That's just enough time to apparate home to grab my things before I need to be at the training pitch."

"You have to go?" he rasped out, his mouth feeling rather like sandpaper. "Stay, Gin, and let me make you breakfast. Something simple, or at least a hangover potion."

Her eyes filled with tears and her lower lip started to tremble, much to his dismay and confusion. "You – hangover? Oh, no. No, I really have to go. Gwenog will see me benched for the start of the next match if I'm not there on time. I'll see you…later, Harry."

"Wait, Gin!" he pleaded, climbing out of the bed. At her blush, he grabbed a towel from the back of a chair to wrap around his waist. "Gin, I think we ought to talk."

"Yeah, I know," she sighed, glancing toward the bed with an almost wistful expression. "But I really can't right now."

"Right, practice," he sighed in frustration. "Of course, you should go." He peered closely at her, and although he wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms, he did not. "Is everything okay, Gin? Are…are we okay?"

She blinked at him, her eyes again filling with tears. "Yes, everything's fine. Alright, I really should go. I – I'll see myself out, Harry. Um…" She glanced around the room, painfully biting her lower lip, as she struggled for something to say. "I guess I will see you later. Probably dinner on Sunday."

Before he could even protest that he would most definitely be seeing her before then, she dashed out of the room and down the stairs. A few moments later, he could hear the distinctive pop of apparation. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, Harry Potter tried to figure out what had gone wrong the morning after the very best night of his life.

"Bloody damned hell," he muttered, rubbing harshly at his eyes with the heels of his palm. What had he done to upset her so badly? He'd asked, more than a few times, if she was sure, and she had been most emphatic in her agreement. He knew it had hurt her the first time, but she had assured him that she was fine each time after that. God, had he hurt her and was too big of a prat to actually realize it? He kicked angrily at the door, barely noticing the throbbing pain that resulted in his foot.

He stepped into his bathroom to rummage through the medicine. Fantastic, he didn't even have a single hangover potion on hand. Just bloody superb. Not only had he apparently made a royal mess of things with Ginny, but he was going to have to suffer through this bloody headache, too. Or worse, he'd have to suffer the indignity of going to Ron or George for on which would only lead to a most miserable question and answer session. He was just not up to that today, and luckily he didn't feel quite bad enough to suffer through the indignity.

He ought to get moving and go into to work, but there was no way he wanted to do that. No, today was not a day where spending time around the people at work would be good idea. But there was also no way he was going to be able to handle sitting around his house, not now that it seemed so filled with her presence and spirit. Everywhere he looked around this room alone he could see her. To make it worse, he could definitely still smell her on his sheets, and wow, did he ever need to get out of this house.

He quickly dressed and as soon as he located his wand, he turned and disapparated on the spot. He sucked in a deep breath of fresh air as he glanced around, taking in his surroundings. Harry was standing outside the gates of the small cemetery in Godric's Hollow where his parents were buried. He visited sporadically and never when he was feeling like this, at his worse, but today he just wanted to feel close to them.

Maybe it was because he'd just looked through their pictures last night or maybe it was because he felt for Ginny the way his parents felt for each other. Whatever it was, he just knew this was where he needed to be right now.

He made his way slowly through the stones and markers, barely noticing the bright sunlight that was filtering through the trees. He shook his head as he realized he should have brought flowers or something. Leave it to him to be so focused on himself that he couldn't even be bothered with the normal customs.

Harry sank down to his knees between the two small markers that identified his parents' final resting place. "Hi Dad, Mum," he said softly, his voice breaking as he addressed them. "I really wish you were here right now. I mean, that is something that I've always wished, but maybe now more than ever. I guess that really says a lot, right, considering the prophecy and Voldemort, but I guess that Ginny really is that important to me.

"And I messed up with her. This certainly isn't the first time that I've done that, but I'm afraid that this is the worst yet." He huffed out an angry breath, hot tears stinging his eyes. "It's really not fair that you aren't here; I could really use some advice and I have no one else to ask it of now. Sorry, that's not fair; I know that you would both be here with me if you could, and I know that I'm only still here because of your sacrifices. I just miss you which is stupid because how can you miss what you never had? But I do, and I especially miss you right now."

He paused, pulling his wand out and cleaning the area around the markers. "I love Ginny. I love her with everything I am, everything that I have, and she makes me so happy. And you would both love her, too; everyone does. She is smart and funny and beautiful and caring and I think she could love me, too. Maybe that's just a wish on my part, but I was really beginning to believe it. She – she stayed with me last night, and it was special and right and good. But then this morning, she was upset and panicky and couldn't get out of my house fast enough. What did I do wrong?

"Maybe I pressured her too much. Maybe she didn't want to be with me at all. She kissed me first, but maybe that was all she wanted. Merlin, if I hurt her, I would never forgive myself. See, Dad? I wish you were here for this. I bet you would have some advice since it took you so long to get Mum. Maybe you could at least convince me that I haven't lost her forever. I don't think I could live with that," he admitted, an ironic chuckle escaping his lips. "Can you believe that? After everything, losing Ginny would be the thing that broke me."

Harry sighed, leaning forward and tracing his fingers over his mother's name where it was engraved into the stone. "I want to marry her and make babies with her and grow old with her by my side, and if I blew it by pressuring her too much – I don't know what I'd do. Hell, I don't know what to do now. She's probably going to avoid me, and…well, I guess I mentioned how I feel about that."

He stood up suddenly, a grin on his face. "You know what? It doesn't matter, does it? I'm not giving her up, not when I haven't even told her how much I love her. If I could let Voldemort kill me so that I could destroy him, I can certainly tell Ginny what she means to me. I just have to prove to her that we are good together. I have to figure out what I did wrong and fix it. And – and I can do that. I can make her see that I love her and show her that she's my family, my heart.

"Thanks. For listening, I mean. I suppose that you don't really have a choice, but still. I showed Gin the pictures I found in the family vault last night, but I didn't get to show her the rest of the stuff in there. I think she was glad to see what we got through, though. I hope she knew that there is no one else I could have or even wanted to share them with. That's part of the problem, isn't it? All this time, I've made her feel like she was less important to me than Ron and Hermione, and now I have to prove otherwise. But I can do that; I don't know how, but I'll figure it out. You guys don't have to worry about me. Not anymore."

He paused, scuffing his shoe through the grass. "I'm sorry I don't visit more often. I know that I should, and I don't even have an excuse for not. I'll do better now though, and one of these days, I'm going to bring Gin with me. But until then, I'd better go. There is someone else I can talk to about this, and I think he can help me a lot. Not like you two would have, but he can still help, I hope." He smiled wryly as he used his wand to transfigure several small rocks into white lilies. "Should've done that when I first got here. Sometimes it is still hard to believe I'm a wizard. Alright, I had best go. I – I love you both very much."

With that, he set the flowers down before taking a step back before turning and disapparating to the designated area of the Ministry. Rather than take the lift to the Magical Law Enforcement offices on the fifth floor, he pressed the button for the eighth. Once the lift stopped, he walked to the back corner of the building, stopping at the desk of the secretary of the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department. Senior Head, that was.

"Hello," he said as pleasantly as he could manage. "Harry Potter to see Mr. Weasley. I don't have an appointment, but I'm hoping he has – "

"And you never need an appointment," Arthur interrupted jovially as he came out of his office. "None of my children ever needs an appointment, and neither do those who are as good as. Now, come in, come in."

Swallowing the emotional lump in his throat, Harry followed him into his office, stopping to shut the door securely before sitting down in front of Arthur's desk. "Thank you for seeing me, sir," Harry smiled, trying to relax. It certainly wasn't every day that he did something like this. "I need to talk to you about something that is rather important to me, so I really do appreciate it, Mr. Weasley."

Arthur smiled widely at him in response. "Harry, as I said, this door is always open to my children, and Molly and I both certainly do consider you to be a part of that pack. Now, please, do start calling me Arthur. There is no need for formality between us."

"Erm, alright," Harry agreed, nervousness settling in. "I went to see my parents this morning. Their graves, I mean. While I was talking to them, I realized that I needed to speak to you as well. See, Mr. – I mean, Arthur – this is about Ginny."

"Ginny?" Arthur echoed, a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "Is everything okay with my one and only daughter, Harry?"

Harry flushed a bright red at the reminder, not picking up on the teasing lilt in Arthur's voice. "She – as far as I know, she is just fine. She's at practice now, but she said she was fine when she left my place."

"Left your place?" Arthur repeated, his tone as mild as ever.

"Yes, Arth – erm, Mr. Weasley, I'm love with your daughter," Harry said in rush, "And that's a shock, I know, but it isn't sudden and I am very sure of my feelings. Now I want her to be sure of them, too. I – I'm pursuing a relationship with her, and I – I'm having a hard time of it."

"Please continue to call me Arthur, Harry," he encouraged with a grin. "May I say that it is about time? Molly and I have been wondering how long it would take you two to figure things out. She is going to be just as pleased as I am."

Harry blinked in surprise. "You – you're pleased?"

Arthur laughed, nodding enthusiastically. "Of course we are! Harry, while it may not have been obvious to anyone else, Molly and I could both tell that you are enamored of Ginny, and that she – well, we knew. It is quite a delight that you two have worked things out. Oh, are you here to ask permission to marry her?"

Harry started at the question. "Well, yes of course – no! I mean, no, I can't ask that yet. She doesn't even know that I love her."

"I see," Arthur nodded, obviously fighting another smile. "Were you asking permission to tell her that? Because I'm not sure my daughter would believe there was a need for that. In fact, I daresay she would probably not appreciate it."

Harry groaned, shaking his head. "I'm not asking permission, sir. I love your daughter very much, and she is the only I would take a 'no' from. No, I'm just here to talk. I imagine you probably don't want to discuss my, erm, personal feelings for your daughter, but I don't have anyone else, and…you are the only person I could imagine talking to about this."

Arthur leaned forward, resting his arms on his desk. "Harry, you can talk to me about anything. There is no reason to go into great detail, as that will help make it a little easier on both of us, but if I can help you, I would be very glad to do so indeed."

"I wish I didn't have to bother you with this, but I need to talk about it, I think. I – I don't have a father, but you've felt like I what I'd imagine having one would feel like for a long time now," Harry rambled on. "I'm not good at this kind of thing, and dating Ginny my sixth year is my only real relationship of any significance. I'm just afraid I'll mess this up."

"Can I offer some advice, Harry?" The young man nodded eagerly. "The best thing that you and Ginny can do for yourselves is talk to one another, openly and honestly. That's a very hard thing to do before – or even as – you establish a relationship, but it is also the most important thing you can do."

"We do talk a lot. Just last night, I showed her things of my parents that I had never shown anyone. I know that she's the one I want to share my life with."

"I don't doubt that, Harry," Arthur smiled kindly. "What I'm trying to say is a little different. It's wonderful that there are things you want to share only with her, but I mean that you need to discuss your feelings for one another and expectations for your relationship. You have to be open and honest. It isn't easy; I wouldn't lie to you and say that it is. But I believe that you can do it; together you and Ginevra can do it."

"I can't tell you how much it means to me that you believe that," Harry told Arthur with all the sincerity in his heart. "I was prepared to go on without anyone's blessing, but it makes it easier that you, Ron, and George are all okay with me pursuing Ginny." He smiled ruefully. "Now I just have to convince Ginny that I didn't mean whatever it was I did to upset her and that we belong together."

Arthur grinned. "Harry, I'd like to say that that should be easy as pie considering you beat Voldemort, but knowing my daughter, you just might have your work cut out for you."

Thinking on it for a moment, Harry nodded and then his face broke out into a huge grin. "Yeah, but it'll be worth it."

"That it will, son; that it will."


Ginny Weasley was not in a pleasant mood. It was a remnant from her horrible morning Friday, and it had carried over into what should be a perfectly good Saturday, too. And that only made her that much more irritated. It was not a good look on her.

She wanted to let things go, to stop agonizing over them, but she was finding that difficult to do. Harry had been drunk when they'd made love, so drunk that he had spoke of needing a hangover potion when they woke up. She was just convinced that he had been so drunk that he probably hadn't been aware of what they were doing, even though he hadn't really seemed drunk at the time.

"Bugger it," she muttered, throwing her covers back and climbing out of bed. It was early, not yet eight, but she found she did not really care. What was the point of staying in bed when she could be miserable just as well upright?

She stumbled her way into the kitchen, swishing her wand to turn the lights on. She just wanted a glass of water; maybe if she got that, she'd be able to sleep. Then again, the second she closed her eyes she would just see him. That wouldn't do any good, so why bother? Once she had her glass filled, she moved out to the living room, curling up in one corner of her sofa.

Glancing down at the shirt she'd pulled on before collapsing into bed last night, she sighed. So what if she was wearing his t-shirt? It's not like anyone else would ever see it and realize how pathetic she was. It was just her and…her. No one else was around to even care. Not even a bloody pet.

How miserable. She was miserable, her life was miserable, and her stupid inability to shake her lifelong love for Harry James Potter was miserable. That boy probably did not even have a clue as to how much she fancied him. Then again, it would probably only be worse if he did. Did she really need his pitying looks or to see the guilty expression in his eyes? Those would be there, and they'd only make things far, far worse.

Things had seemed to be going so well, too. That was the part that hurt the worst; they'd been going well and she'd let herself begin to hope and dream and…plan. And naturally, it all fell apart, and it turns out that she had to get him drunk to get him in bed. Did he even remember anything from their night together? It probably wasn't even legal to sleep with someone who was inebriated.

She wanted to floo-call Hermione, but she was too humiliated even for that. Her mother was out as a sounding board; even though Molly would probably be supportive, Ginny did not want to deal with the disappointment her mother would in her failure to work things out with Harry. She couldn't really talk to her brothers as they loved Harry as though he was one of them, and she refused to ruin that for anyone. There wasn't anyone else that she could trust with Harry's privacy, so she'd have to settle for keeping it to herself.

Ultimately though, the only person that she really wanted to talk to about anything was Harry. It hadn't even been a full twenty-four hours and she was already missing him and his company. She supposed that wasn't surprising; she had spent half her life missing him in some way as she survived in various states of longing for him. And now she was clearly destined to spend the rest of her life in that same way.

Logically she knew that it was stupid to be so pessimistic, particularly since she knew he had feelings for her, but this was an emotional problem, not a logic puzzle. Rationality was probably not going to be much of a factor in this. Besides, she was still way too engaged in self-pity to have the ability to put a sunshine spin on things.

She sighed, lifting her wand and using it shut the curtains tighter. The darkness definitely suited her mood and was even comforting in a vague sort of way. She dragged a throw blanket over her legs and curled into a ball. Maybe she could stay here forever without being bothered. Before she could even mentally chide herself for that silly thought, the door to her flat swung open, admitting the reason for her agony, Harry James Potter.

Harry did not spot her immediately; no, that would have been awfully hard to do around the sacks of groceries he was carrying. She hadn't forgotten about the bet and her breakfasts in bed, but she hadn't given them any thought either. She certainly had not been expecting him to show up here, food in hand, to make her breakfast. Not after what happened; not after she took advantage of him like that.

He took the groceries into the kitchen, wincing when an apple fell out of one of the sacks and bounced off the table onto the floor. It barely made a sound, but Harry still froze, peeking down the hall towards her room. When he was satisfied that he hadn't awakened her, he turned back to his task in the kitchen. She was content to have a few moments to just watch him work before she absolved him of his responsibilities set forth by their bet. There was no reason for her to expect him to show up on Saturdays to feed her, and he certainly should not feel obligated.

"Harry," she called softly from her safe spot in the corner of the sofa. "You don't have to do that, you know."

He started at the sound of her voice, hastily turning to face her. "Give a bloke some warning next time," he grinned, ignoring her offer of escape. "You could cough or something. Or let me know you're out here right when I walk in."

Ginny hugged her knees tighter to her chest. "I mean it, Harry. You shouldn't feel obligated to finish out the bet, not after what I did."

That brought him up short, and he stopped his ministrations in the kitchen. Harry walked the short distance to her sofa, sitting on the edge of the table in front of her. "What on earth are you on about, Gin? What did you do?"

"Y – you're going to make me spell it out?" she asked, blanching at the thought. "Harry, I – you were drunk, and I took advantage of that and I'm so sorry. I know that you're probably very angry with me, and I understand that, but maybe – "

"Gin – Ginevra, stop!" Harry exclaimed, a grin on his face. "You think that I'm angry with you? Are you kidding me? Oh, Gin, I've been in agony thinking that I hurt you or forced you into something you didn't want…I didn't do either of those things, did I?"

Ginny arm's relaxed their tight grip around her knees, falling down to her sides. "I – no, you didn't," she said softly, staring intently at him, trying to confirm the veracity of his assertions. "You were drunk, Harry. And I – I pushed you, and I'm sorry if – "

"No! Don't be sorry. If you don't regret it, then I'm not sorry. Hell, Gin, that was – well, that was the best night of my life, and I don't want to take it back. I really don't want you to want to take it back, either."

"You don't want to take it back?" she asked, her eyes meeting his. "Harry, you don't have to say that; you don't owe me anything."

"Well, I guess we will have to disagree on that," he said softly. "Someday, I'll explain all the things that I owe you for, Gin."

She eyed him skeptically, but just ended up shrugging. "It doesn't really matter, does it?"

Harry looked her in the eye, not shying away. "It matters to me. A lot. I don't ever want you to think that I don't recognize and appreciate each and every amazing thing you have done for me. Because I do, and I'm rubbish at saying thanks – I think we all know that, but you have to know what you mean to me. You – everything means so much to me."

Ginny sighed, trying to quell the little thrill she felt at his words. "You know that you never have to thank me for anything, much less things that I don't even know what you are talking about," she stated lightly, trying to inject a smidgen of humor into the conversation.

Harry grinned sheepishly as he ran a hand through his untidy hair. "You make me laugh, Gin. There have been times – loads of them, really – where you were the only one who could even make me smile. Even when I was a horrible moody git my fifth year, you helped me. You helped me and I didn't deserve it, but you did it anyway. I can share things with you, open up to you, because I trust you."

"You don't have to say those things or – or feel obligated just because we slept together, Harry," she sighed miserably, giving voice to her worst fear. She looked down at her hands, unable to meet his eyes.

"Gin, look at me. Ginevra," he said sharply when she didn't immediately comply. She looked up slowly, cringing at the confused frown that marred his forehead. "Is that really what you think of me? That I only care about you because we m-made love?"

It cost him something to ask her that, she could tell, and she knew that he wouldn't use that terminology lightly. "No, of course not," she exclaimed immediately. "I know you better than that. I'm sorry I acted otherwise."

He shook his head, giving her a shy smile that she found completely endearing. "You don't have to apologize. I suppose we should have talked things over before we, erm, made love rather than after, yeah?"

Ginny had to smile at that. "Well, it certainly wouldn't have hurt," she agreed, shifting nervously.

"Do you think that we'd still have gone through with it?" Harry managed to stammer out. "It's just that, erm, that is to say that I would've wanted to go through with it, even if we stopped to talk."

She cursed herself as she felt her ears and cheeks get hot. "Me, too," she agreed, wishing she had her usual boldness. That would certainly come in handy for this conversation. "It wasn't a question of want on my part, Harry."

Harry looked at her with bright eyes, his hands fumbling nervously as he tried to put his thoughts into words. "I don't regret it at all," he said, almost defiantly. "As long as you wanted it, too, then I don't regret it at all. I was…well, we didn't talk much about it, but it was probably obvious anyway." She looked at him blankly, unsure where he was going. "It was my first time, too. I should have mentioned it, but you were…well I couldn't keep a thought in my head."

"Thank you for telling me," she said, giving him a soft smile. His admission that she drove him to distraction was a welcome balm to her wounded pride.

"I was afraid I'd done something wrong," he admitted, flushing all the way down to the neckline of his shirt. "I thought maybe I had hurt you or it was horrible. Was it? Did I?"

Ginny bit her lip, smiling sheepishly at that. "I'm sorry I gave you that impression, Harry. It wasn't like that at all." She glanced down at her hands. "It was good, actually. Very good. Erm, after the first time, I mean. So just don't think for a second that it was anything less than wonderful."

"So we agree then that it was wonderful?" he asked cheekily as he tried and failed to appear nonchalant. "Because I think it was wonderful and brilliant. And you don't know how relieved I am that I didn't hurt you. I – I don't know what I would have done, Gin."

"Well, you didn't," she tried to assure him, her face again flushing brightly. "And it was brilliant. You shouldn't feel guilty about it. Obviously neither of us should."

"You're right. You are absolutely right, Miss Weasley." He grinned, standing up. "Let me go put breakfast together. It will only take a minute since I made everything at home. And yes, I did remember the warming charm on the food."

Ginny smiled at that, drawing her knees to her chest as she watched him walk across her small living area into her equally small kitchen. It was a little surreal to her, sharing these small moments of domesticity with Harry. She relished them though, perhaps out of the fear that it was all fleeting. She'd been here before with Harry, in the place where everything seemed fine and that Harry seemed interested. It was blown to Hell before, and the fear that it would be again gripped her heart.

She didn't want to feel that way, and she knew that thinking his interest was only temporary was a disservice to them both. As much as she knew that, it was still hard to set the fear aside. As much as she loved him, she was still afraid to give herself over to him completely. She was his, without a doubt, but a part of her was still rather terrified of letting him know that.

But despite the fear, she could not let go of her hope. It had lain dormant for a long time, but it was back and she didn't think it was going anywhere any time soon. It would be so much easier if the hope would go away again, but no one ever said that the easy things were the ones that were truly worth it, truly appreciated. And she would, she knew, be able to truly appreciate it if she and Harry could make a go of it now. She already cherished and appreciated and loved him, and she could only imagine how amplified those feelings would be if their relationship became deeper.

She had a choice at this point. She could let go of all of that hope and give up on Harry forever, or she could continue to pursue a relationship with him. In her heart there was no question that she wanted Harry, and as she watched him move about her kitchen as thought he lived there, she resolved to go after him. Even if it came down to her standing in front of him and point blank declaring her love for him, she would do this.

Gathering her courage, she took a deep breath and quietly called his name. When he glanced up at her with a questioning look, she smiled widely at him. "I just wanted to say that I-I've really enjoyed spending time with you lately, arry. I hadn't even realized how much I have missed you until being with you again reminded me." He was staring at her intently, a faint smile playing about the corners of his mouth. "I want this to continue, Harry. Not only have I had a brilliant time, but I feel as though we have grown closer recently, and I do not want to lose that."

Harry set down the plates he was holding and looked at her closely. "You won't," he said, he voice low and husky with promise as he regarded her solemnly. "Trust me, Gin. I like this, too. I love spending time with you, and us becoming closer means a lot to me, too. More than you can know. I wouldn't change any of the time we have spent together lately, and I want to continue spending plenty of time with you going forward, as well. I've enjoyed every second we've had together."

Unable to help herself, she winked lasciviously at him. "Some seconds more than others, right?" She laughed when he threw a croissant her way, reaching out to catch it easily. "Thank you."

"Maybe you should go play seeker for Oliver. You obviously have a knack for it," Harry grinned, looking more at ease, just as she was feeling. "I'm serious, Gin. You'd be amazing, and would likely have Puddlemere winning championships in no time!"

"I think that I'm happy where I am," she smiled, clapping with delight as he levitated a tray towards her. "Oh, it looks amazing. And the peonies, those are my favorite flowers. Did you know?"

He smiled widely at her, looking surprisingly proud of himself. "I can be very observant when I want to be," he noted, winking as he settled the tray atop the small coffee table in front of her. "There are some things I think it is important to know, such as the favorite flowers of the ladies in your life."

She had to fight back a giggle at that. "I see. Well, they are really lovely. Erm, what are Hermione's favorites, by the way?" she asked, unable to resist teasing him. She was quite sure he had no idea that their friend preferred Gerbera daisies above all other flowers.

Harry frowned at the question, sighing heavily as he sank down beside her on the couch. "Honestly, that's Ron's problem. No matter how badly I hack her off, Ron will always do something worse and therefore needs to be the one buying her flowers."

"I see," she nodded solemnly, fighting hard to hide her smile. "So, who else's favorite doe you know? My mum's? Fleur's?"

"Just yours," he admitted quietly, leaning forward to busy himself with the tray of food. "You are the only woman's whose favorite flower I need or care to be aware of, Gin. It's just you."

There was a moment of silence between them as they both let that statement sink in. "Harry? Thank you for knowing my favorite flower. They're so beautiful, and I really appreciate them. It means a lot that you know what I like, too. Thank you."

"You're very welcome," he smiled over his shoulder as he fixed her a plate. "Here you go," he said, straightening up to hand her the plate of her favorites. "I hope you enjoy your second breakfast-in-couch, I guess."

"Yum, I'm so hungry all of a sudden," she enthused, clapping her hands together happily.

"That's a Weasley thing," Harry said knowingly, a teasing smile on his face. "Enjoy!"

She beamed at him, immediately picking up her fork and digging in. "Oh, so good!" He relaxed a little, leaning forward to fix a plate for himself. "Harry, thank you. Not just for breakfast or the flowers, but for everything. I can't even tell you how glad I am that you came here today. I would have really missed you if you hadn't."

"I missed you yesterday," he admitted quietly, his fork pushing the food around his plate, "And I missed you last night, too." She looked up at that, her gaze intently focused on his face. "I did, Gin."

"Me too," she agreed, completely meaning it. "I don't think anything has to change. I mean, they shouldn't change in a weird way, an awkward way. Oh, bloody hell. I mean that I like – a lot – how things have been going, and I don't want either of us to feel that has to change, that we have to pull back."

"Good, I like how things have been going, too," he grinned back at her, relaxing a little. She did the same, leaning into his side. "How's the food?"

She glanced his way, biting her lip pensively. "Actually, I don't know how to tell you this, but these aren't my favorite anymore."

"Oh, no?"

She shook her head. "No, my new favorite is strawberry French toast, served by you, in my bed."

Harry stared at her hungrily for a moment before shaking his head and smiling. "For a second there, I really thought that you didn't like these anymore. You shouldn't tease me like that; I am very sensitive, you know."

She lifted an eyebrow at that, a sly look on her face. "Oh, really? How can I make it up to you, then? I'd really hate to offend your delicate sensibilities, Mr. Potter."

He laughed at that, slipping his arm around her shoulders. "I'm sure we can think of something that you can do to make it up," he murmured huskily into her ear.

"I'm sure," she agreed, blushing hotly at what they both were insinuating. They had both all but declared they wanted more, but the insinuations were still enough to make her blush. She tried to focus her attention on her plate, but she found that she was not very hungry anymore. Especially when watching Harry eat was so much more interesting. She knew that she should not be ogling the poor man while he tried to eat, but she really was having trouble looking away from his mouth. His sexy, enthusiastic, talented mouth.

To stifle the groan that tried to bubble up and escape her lips, she shoved a piece of toast in her mouth, taking a large bite. Harry, after taking a sip of his tea, smiled widely at her. "Do you, ah, have any plans today? Maybe we could spend some time together this morning?"

She smiled just as huge in return. "Well, I had planned to spend the whole day wallowing about this place in my pajamas, but I suppose that I could be persuaded not to wallow…out of my pajamas."

His eyes darkened at that in what was unmistakably lust. He took a deep breath, moving to set both of their places down on the coffee table. "Please tell me that I may kiss you now."

"Oh, yes," she breathed, giving him a brilliant smile. "Please."

"Thank Merlin," he chuckled, shifting to face her. "I've been dying to kiss you ever since I woke up yesterday morning. It's just gotten to be a more intense need since."

"Then do it already," she encouraged, shifting towards him.

He nodded as he leaned in closer. "I was just savoring the moment, but…"

After that, nothing was said for a very long time.