Fic: Substitute My Coke For Gin (1/2)

[lightofdaye]

Title: Substitute My Coke For Gin
Pairings: Harry/Ginny, Harry/Parvati, Harry/Ginny/Parvati. Mention of Ron/Lavender.
Summary:A secret from Harry’s schooldays stirs up trouble during his engagement to Ginny.
Rating: NC-17
Length: 16,369
Content:Underage sex (participants under 18), bisexuality/femmeslash as part of threesome.
Author's notes: Thanks to hollywoodlawn for the Beta and suggesting the title. Originally written for dragyn_42 as part of smutty_claus 2011.

~

In his heyday, Harry Potter had gone through many terrible trials of body and mind but after the war had ended and peace supposedly reigned he found himself facing his most arduous ordeal yet—spending a month away from Ginny Weasley, or rather; Ginny spending a month away from him. Before she went for tryouts, Ginny had shared her worries that that training with the Holyhead Harpies was supposed to be hell. Harry had smiled, and encouraged her to go for it anyway. After all, he’d thought she’d meant it’d be hell for her.  Boyfriends, Harry thought, were the unsung heroes of the League-topping team’s success.

The day that Ginny was due to arrive home, Harry could not sit still at all. A boundless energy emanated from the pit of his stomach, and he wandered aimlessly about the stairs and halls of Grimmauld Place. Foolishly, he’d booked the entire day off from the Auror Office, despite the fact Ginny wasn’t actually scheduled to arrive until the afternoon. He was forced to keep himself busy by fiddling with and dusting random oddments of furniture.

Approximately two thousand years later, however, the door bell rang, just as Harry was examining the underside of an old fashioned desk that he hadn’t known he still had, situating him about as far as he could be from the front door. The dull thump and curse echoed around the empty room before Harry hurtled down the stairs at breakneck speed to reach the front door. As he approached, it sprung open as if by magic, and so he skidded to a stop at the threshold.

And there was Ginny, hair pulled back in a practical Chaser’s pony tail, carrying a couple of bags and wearing a smile.

Of course, she was wearing other things too, but they were quite unnecessary as far as Harry was concerned.

“Why, hello there, young lady,” Harry said, unable to keep a grin from spreading across his face.

“Hi,” Ginny said breathlessly.

Harry decided that he was going to be a complete gentleman and took her bags from her, although this left him unable to hold her as she tried to crush his ribs in a bearhug.  Quidditch training was obviously good for her muscles; Harry had not been hugged quite so hard in a long time.

“Uurgk!” The sound erupted from Harry involuntarily as she attempted to squash him flat.

“Ooops!” said Ginny, laughingly

“Let’s get these to your room, shall we?” Harry said.  “Does your mother know you’re back from training yet?”

Ginny made a disgusted face. Whether it was at the mention of Mrs Wesley or her room, Harry didn’t know. Molly Weasley had been especially nervous since the end of the war and the idea of her own daughter leaving home to live with her boyfriend was not one she had accepted gracefully.  Even though the daughter was a fully grown Quidditch player and the boyfriend was a trusted family friend. Harry had had to formally propose—distracting Molly with the prospect of wedding preparations—before the matriarch let Ginny live in Grimmauld Place, and even then it was on the strict arrangement that they weren’t to be sharing a room.

So Ginny had her own room, which always looked as clean and pristine as if it wasn’t actually lived in.

Ginny’s disapproving expression quite amused Harry and he couldn’t resist poking fun at her by taking the bags all the way up to her official room, next to the master bedroom which he used now. They trekked up two flights of stairs in what Harry liked to think of as companionable silence. By the time they’d reached her room, Ginny was looking at him strangely, her puzzlement there in her soft brown eyes. Harry realised he was actually supposed to say it.  He was relatively sure she knew, anyway, but he had to say it nevertheless.

“I missed you,” he said, and then pulled her into tight hug, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding on to her like he never wanted to let go.  “I missed you so much.”

“I know,” Ginny murmured into his chest, her words shattering the slight air of awkwardness that was omnipresent for the young couple.  “I missed you, too.”

Harry’s head tilted down as Ginny looked up at him. Inevitably they kissed, their lips meeting softly playing over each other in a slow dance as she sucked on each of his lips individually. Her excited breath filled his nose and lungs, her intoxicating scent urging him onwards. His hands cupped her face as he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth, and Ginny pressed up against him so tightly that her pleased moan reverberated through both their chests. Harry’s fingers tangled in Ginny’s ponytail, hopelessly caught up in it until her hair tie came loose and her fiery locks cascaded over Harry’s hands, the ends tickling his face and neck.

They were both panting by the time the kiss ended, Ginny’s breasts against him. Harry realised the four poster in the master bedroom was just too far away from them right now—hell, the bed on the other side of the room seemed too far. But it would have to do, in any case. They’d tried floor sex once and the friction burns from the carpet had taken a lot of complicated charms to clear up.  Harry tried to catch his wind again, resting his forehead on Ginny’s as she attempted to do the same.

“I need you,” Ginny said softly. If there were sexier words a woman could say, Harry didn’t want to hear them.

Driven to immediate action, Harry leant down and scooped an arm behind Ginny’s knees, carrying her the three metres across the room to drop her squarely—Ginny emitted a surprised squeak upon landing—onto her pristine bed. Harry grinned as he moved to lean over her slender form, her vivid red hair spreading across the sheets in every direction like wild fire.   But his view was short-lived, for even as the mattress springs were still bouncing, her arm shot out and she pulled him down next to her.

That was when Harry’s lack of multitasking skills began to show.  He wanted to passionately kiss Ginny, undress her, and undress himself, and while trying to do all three at once, he completely failed at all of them.  Ginny just laughed and batted his clumsy fingers away from her top, which she peeled off herself. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her perky tits bounced in their new found freedom, her rosy nipples looking painfully hard with arousal.

Harry’s fingers scrabbled at his own buttons, tearing off his shirt to match her. There was a flurry of activity as they both discarded their clothes as quickly as possible and then they were kissing again, the taste and sensations exploding in his mouth.  The two of them pressed together flesh to flesh, until Harry could feel the thundering of her pulse. Ginny lay back, her arms pulling him down on top of her as her legs spread.  After a month apart, any more foreplay was completely unnecessary.

However long it had been, though, however gripped by lust, Harry remained gentle with her. He was totally in awe of the girl stretched out beneath him. She trusted him entirely, he couldn’t hurt her. Taking himself in hand, he positioned himself carefully at her entrance before very slowly thrusting into her. She was so slick that the head of his cock disappeared without an ounce of resistance, just a sharp intake of breath from Ginny. Every time they did this Harry was struck anew with the beauty of Ginny’s face, especially as she was penetrated. He pushed forward again, leisurely so he could watch the way her eyes fluttered, and see her teeth biting into her bottom lip. His hand found hers and he squeezed it encouragingly, their fingers entwining as finally they became interlocked, his dark pubic hair meshing with the coppery curls that decorated her mound.

They lay motionless for a second, trying to regain some control over themselves.

“God,” Harry murmured, “you’re perfect, Gin.”

“Don’t—” Ginny gasped “—don’t stop.”

She bucked her hips, just a little. Harry got the message and started to rock his hips, working them in slow gentle arcs. Ginny’s free hand found its way to the small of his back and helped to show Harry the pace she wanted. He lengthened his strokes, pulling more of him out of her and pushing it back in. He felt it when her breath suddenly caught as the head of his cock brushed against a certain spot inside her.

“Oh!” Ginny’s eyes widened as the small noise escaped her.

Harry smirked and shifted himself slightly to move in again, starting up a winding motion so that every inwards plunge hit that same spot inside her.

“Oh!oh!oh!” went Ginny, automatically lifting her hips in time with his thrusting. Their bodies collided with increasing force and their moans and gasps filled the air.

Harry feasted his eyes on Ginny’s enraptured expression; her face had become weather-beaten during training and seemed to have picked up an extra patina of freckles while she was away. Harry examined them, trying to memorise the new pattern as a way to distract himself from the growing tension in his prick and the tightening of his bollocks, but the sweat beading across Ginny’s face and the waving motion of her red hair only served to turn him on further, urging him to keep up the fast tempo even as their breathing became ragged and they began to reach the end of their endurance.

It was only when Ginny came that Harry could appreciate the new found strength that her Quidditch practice had given her. Her hips hefted them both up a couple of inches from the mattress as Ginny’s hand clenched around his in a white-knuckled grip. This immediate evidence of Ginny’s pleasure set Harry off as well. He surged forward, burying himself inside her as he pulsed in orgasm with such ferocity that his vision blurred.

Ginny exhaled a long sigh and as she did so she seemed to lose all her strength, slumping back down into the crumpled bedding. Harry couldn’t even vocalise that much and just rolled half off her to lie on his side and look at her flushed perfect visage.

“You know of course, Harry,” she said after a long pause, “that you’re only encouraging me to go away more. Just to get this homecoming.”

“Don’t you even joke about it.  You know I can’t cope without you, my love,” Harry said.

Ginny smiled and snuggled up to him.

“You’re just a big sentimental softie aren’t you? I love you too, silly.”

With that, her eyes half-closed and her breathing evened out as she dozed, pressed up against Harry on top of the covers.  He gazed down on her fondly. The cold air of the room seemed to be closing in now, and goosebumps started to rise on their damp, sweaty flesh. Harry wanted to wrap the covers around Ginny but he didn’t want to disturb her slumber by moving her or himself—her makeshift pillow. Luckily for Harry, he was a wizard.

“Accio,” he muttered, summoning his wand from his discarded trousers. With its aid, he easily moved the blankets from underneath them to on top of them without disturbing Ginny.  She let out a pleased but sleepy noise and snuggled up closer against him, her arm pulling the blankets securely around them both.

Harry’s head fell to the pillow with a satisfied smile. He was warm and comfortable, he was going to start working with a new team of Aurors tomorrow, and he’d just had mind blowing sex with the love of his life, who was tucked up safe and sound in his arms.

For once, it seemed like a perfect moment.

~~

Harry went into work the next morning with a silly grin still plastered on his face.  As a junior Auror, he didn’t work out of the main Ministry building, which was only for the top level Aurors who liaised with other departments, made policy or advised the Minister directly. Trainees and rookies were secluded in a number of facilities in outlying locations. It made sense to Harry.  After all, when you were teaching excitable young wizards how to punch holes in things with their magic, you didn’t want to do it near anything that you didn’t mind having a hole punched in.

Still, since the end of the second war, the Aurors had had a dramatic upshot in their recruitment, in part owing to Harry’s own ambitions and partly because of Kingsley Shacklebolt’s policy of waiving the entry exams for any witch or wizard who’d fought in the Battle of Hogwarts. The practical upshot of this was that there were many new wizards who’d been trained in other units, and whom Harry had never met. Which was what today’s little reshuffle was about—Shacklebolt had handed down a directive that all the Aurors were to be as familiar with as many of their colleagues as possible.

When Harry reached the briefing room that was his first port of call that morning, there was only one other Auror there: a fellow rookie named Maximus Ramble whom Harry had trained with. He was a head shorter than Harry and possessed sandy hair, hazel eyes, and an incongruously cheerful outlook on life for a law enforcement official.

“Morning, Harry,” he said cheerfully.  “You on Auror Essington’s team as well?”

“Oh god, not you,” Harry said, sliding into a chair at the front next to Ramble, “and here I thought I was supposed to be meeting new people.”

“Don’t be like that.  You know you love me, really.”

“Well, yes, that’s true, Max,” Harry conceded.  “But only because the more you’re around the more I look like a genius by comparison.”

The pair of them continued to banter while they waited for the rest of the group to assemble.  Though Harry knew he should really try and greet the newcomers as they arrived, it proved an irresistible lure to appear to be deep in conversation with Max when others entered the room.  For one thing, it distracted him from the regular annoyance of awestruck faces and the all too familiar raking gaze across his scarred forehead. There’d be plenty of time to actually get to know people during the line of duty.

This tactic worked quite well until the entrance of one particular Auror caused Maximus’ brain to derail halfway through a sentence. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Amused, Harry turned to get a better a look at the newcomer—and felt a slight jolt in the region of his stomach when his gaze met that of a tall, dark-skinned witch that he recognised instantly. The jolt became a full-blown lightning strike as memories flooded through him, and he started to get out of his seat as he turned towards her, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“Hello, Parvati,” he said excitedly.  “It’s been quite a while.”

Auror Parvati Patil looked back at him impassively. She inclined her head the barest fraction of an inch towards him.

“Auror Potter.” Then she swept past him and settled herself in a seat several rows behind him, leaving Harry frozen in place and half out of his seat. Max tried to stifle some very un-auror like giggles as Harry sat down with his face falling into an expression of confusion.

“Soooo….,” Max drawled.  “Friend of yours?”

“Shut up, Max,” Harry muttered.

“I mean, I’d ask for an introduction but it looks like I’d do better without a good word from you.” 

“Shut up, Max.”

~~~

Harry’s perplexity at Parvati’s cold shoulder only intensified as the morning wore on, and confusion steadily transformed into annoyance. Any friendly gesture or glance in her direction was met with stony silence or an icy dismissal, which did not lead to the kind of friendly, easy-going atmosphere that made the tedium of a junior Auror’s work bearable. The kind of work which—much to the disappointment of everyone who had talked to Harry about it—had yet to include daring twilight chases of miscreants over roof tops, noon duels with unrepentant dark wizards, or any kind of femme fatale. What it did include was a very large amount of paperwork: both the filling of forms for the department and the poring through records and financial statements of potential suspects to try and spot irregularities.

There was, however, a bright spot on the horizon. As was usual for the common working stiff, this meant lunch. Though for Harry, it was not just the prospect of getting out of the office and into the fresh air as he walked down to the local sandwich place that cheered him. It was that Ginny was in town and thus, they could both apparate to their favourite little café and have lunch together.

Ginny was radiant.  Her fiery hair was unbound again and she was wearing a bright summer dress. Harry slid into a chair opposite her and she immediately read his heart from his expression.

“You look grumpy,” she said simply.

“Do not,” Harry replied, grumpily.

“Do too.  You’ve got a very dark expression.”

“This is not an expression. This is just my face.”

“I know. Not my fault your face looks grumpy.”

Luckily for Harry, that was the moment the food that Ginny had ordered for them arrived, which completely derailed her line of questioning.  A fact that Harry was quite pleased about because the cause of his current moodiness was something he wasn’t sure he wanted to broach with Ginny anytime soon.

“So… whatssup?” Ginny said, through a mouthful of baked potato. 

“Nothing,” Harry said, “I just think you’ve been spending too much time with Ron, that’s all. His table manners have rubbed off on you.”

Ginny stuck her tongue out at him and then loaded it with cheese for the return trip, making a big show of chewing and swallowing before speaking again.

“Not getting along with the new people at work then?” she said.

Harry started. The downside of having a fiancée that you felt secure telling everything to, was that it was very hard to keep secrets from her since she already knew everything.

“No. No. Everyone’s fine. Doing their jobs well.”

“But ...?” She left the word hanging there. The pause gathered tension about itself as Harry shifted uneasily.

“Well, Parvati Patil was there,” he blurted out, once the silence became unbearable.

“She became an Auror?”  Ginny raised an eyebrow.  “I didn’t expect that.”

“Me, neither. But she is and she’s been giving me the cold shoulder.”

To Harry’s very great surprise, Ginny started to giggle.

“What?” he asked, put out by her jovial attitude.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Harry,” Ginny forced out between giggles.  “I mean I know Parvati’s proud but”—she put a hand to her face to stifle her laughter—“but really she’s still put out about it after all this time?”

Alarm filled Harry. Squadrons of butterflies started formation flying through his intestines. Ginny couldn’t mean what he thought she meant, could she?

“W-what?” he stuttered.

“It’s been a decade,” Ginny said in the air of someone stating the obvious.  “And she’s still put out about you being a lousy date at the Yule Ball?”

“Oh, yes,” Harry said, filled with both relief and renewed furtive tension.  “Yes, I expect that’s what it is. Silly isn’t it?”

And he devoted himself to eating his food. It was, after all, less dangerous than talk. 

~*

Though the rest of his conversation with Ginny had remained guarded, Harry returned to the office in somewhat of a better mood, settling back into the briefing room in a relaxed state.  Auror Essington was a blocky man with hair that looked like a close approximation of steel wool. He was disgruntled by the whole re-organisation process and spent most of the morning grumbling about it rather than outlining his group’s focus and current projects, which was why they were back in the briefing room for more talk.

The team seemed mostly concerned with the most famous task of Aurors - dark wizard catching.  And there were a great deal of them to be caught. Chiefly, of course, were the remaining Death Eaters, many of whom had survived the Battle of Hogwarts and escaped capture to remain unrepentant. Harry found it impressive, albeit in a thoroughly disturbing way, that there were so many left; it took someone with a fervent belief in their ideology to continue so long after all chance of victory had fled their cause. There were others who had turned to dark magic independently, though, and used it to service their own goals and low ambitions.

Essington’s team however was mainly concerned with the former: Death Eaters that were deeply in hiding and needed to be ferreted out.

“So,” Essington began.  “We have these Death Eaters in hiding. How do we go about finding them?”

The group remained silent while Essington leaned back in his chair and said nothing.  Everyone shifted in their seats.  Thus far, Auror Essington had not given the impression that talking back was something he at all encouraged, and even though he now was asking for it, they were still wary of the man’s acerbic attitude. Harry realised no-one else was going to speak and so, opened his mouth.

“Well, someone must know where they are.  I mean, they have to get food and supplies from somewhere,” he said.  “So we find out who their suppliers are and then we follow them back to the Death Eater’s hideout.”

There was a pregnant pause, like the whole group was collectively holding their breath. Then Essington gave the slightest of nods.

“That would be one approach,” he said, grudgingly.  “Thank you, Harry. Shacklebolt said you’d be up to the heavy lifting.”

“Heavy lifting?  Harry?” Parvati echoed in a loud whisper that Harry could hear from the couple of rows that separated them.  “Not unless he’s bulked up a lot in the last few years.”

Essignton’s gaze found her and sharpened.

“Something to add, Patil?”

Parvati didn’t miss a beat with her response.

“Only that if we can’t find the Death Eaters, how are we going to find their suppliers, anyway?”  She plunged ahead, not waiting for Essington to comment.  “And in any case, Auror Potter is assuming that these suppliers even exist. Most Death Eaters come from a privileged background and probably have House Elves to gather their supplies . Via apparition. Which, of course, is notoriously difficult to track.”

The corner of the senior Auror’s lips quirked upwards and Harry’s furious counter-argument was stifled when Essington suddenly spoke up…

“An interesting analysis. Thank you,” he said.  “You shall both get to find out who is right, as you work on this assignment ... together.”

Harry and Parvati’s jaws dropped.

“B-b-but I just slated the idea!” Parvati objected.

“Indeed.” There was definitely a smile playing across the Auror’s face.  “I always find it is best to assign people to projects they are passionate about, one way or the other.”

Parvati’s jaw was clenched so hard by that point that Harry thought it was a wonder he wasn’t hearing the grinding sounds from across the room. On his part, he felt more optimistic—if they worked together, things would probably come to a head and he might find the cause of Parvati’s inexplicable hostility.  Either they’d work things out or they’d kill each other.

Right now, he felt like either one might do him fine.

*

What little optimism Harry had at the start of the week had slowly drained away by its end. Whatever problem Parvati had inexplicably developed with him did not make itself clear to him, but Harry had started noting things about her, all the changes she had gone through since their schooldays. While she’d never been shy, Auror training had increased her confidence in herself and her abilities to the extent that it had become visible in her posture and the confident strut of her walk. She looked different as well—she still took care of appearance but practicality now won out over style. She still had her long plait of hair but instead of hanging to her waist and being decorated with golden wire, it barely reached past her shoulders, was pulled tighter to her head, and was without ornament.

None of this, however, made her any more fun to be around. For the first time in his career, Harry found that he was dreading going to work; the constant anxiety was actually starting to cause physical problems for him, a tension in his muscles that he could not relieve no matter how much he tried to relax.

Ginny was the one bright spot in his life at that moment, as the Quidditch League was between seasons.  The Harpies were alternating between intensive training sessions and copious amounts free time for their players, so Ginny had, for the moment, an idyllic and carefree existence. To Harry, it seemed like she flittered in and out of his presence like a brightly coloured bird, enticing yet elusive.

That evening, though, Harry had reached his breaking point. He strode into Grimmauld Place and upon seeing Ginny, he planted a kiss on her lips. This was not the light peck that characterised their usual greetings but a harder, hungrier affair. His arms encircled Ginny and pulled her close. As the kiss ended, Ginny smiled and seemed to be trying to say something when Harry kissed her again, more deeply. His tongue surged forward into her mouth excitedly. Ginny’s eyebrows shot up in surprise even as she moaned appreciatively at his ardour.

“Goodness, Harry, what’s got into you?” Ginny gasped as they broke for a second time.

“Hmm. I thought it was me who was supposed to get into you.”

Ginny coloured nicely at the comment.

“How can I say no to that?”

The closest room was the lounge, and the couple practically charged in there to fall atop the settee, quickly embracing once more.  Kissing urgently, Harry’s hands worked their way to the straps of Ginny’s dress and bra and slid the garments down beneath her breasts. Ginny gasped in surprise and then groaned as Harry’s mouth immediately dropped to start kissing and sucking on her breasts, his tongue swirling eagerly around her rapidly hardening nipples.

Ginny clutched at Harry’s head buried against her chest, but he was not done there.  His hands had drifted lower and quickly moved under the hem of her dress as Harry’s fingertips played over the fabric of her knickers, rubbing against her entrance. Overwhelmed with sudden sensation, Ginny slumped backwards against the armrest of the sofa, spreading her legs to give him better access.

Driven on by her pleased gasps, Harry’s fingers curled under the waistline of her knickers and pulled them down her legs with such speed that they disappeared across the room when he let go of them. Ginny lay spread out before him, her remaining clothes were bunched around her stomach, leaving her best bits exposed to his gaze and glowing with energy.  Harry fumbled with his belt and trousers, pushing them down as he hastily climbed on top of her.

Hands braced on either side of Ginny’s head, Harry pushed with his hips so suddenly that Ginny gasped again, and her fingers clawed at Harry’s back as he drove himself into her with one smooth, quick stroke. Her nails dug deeply through his shirt. Her grip didn’t loosen when he dragged his cock back; it only intensified her eagerness for him to plunge back into her.

Harry started to pump, quickly ratcheting the pace up to a fever-pitch. His body was awash with conflicting sensations; the pleasure of Ginny’s pussy clinging to his shaft and the sharp pressure of her nails scraping on his back. His brain was quite muddled until he couldn’t tell one from the other, his view of the world shrunk until it just consisted of these sensations. He was vaguely aware of Ginny’s increasingly breathless moans and squeals of pleasure and the convulsions of her body but they were secondary to his need to keep moving inside her.

Relentlessly Harry continued to move even as his pleasure mounted rapidly, each thrust needing more effort than the last. Soon he was teetering on the edge of eruption and he felt a name come instinctively to his lips and he almost said it before realising in  a moment of absurdity that it was the wrong one,

“P—” he started, wrenching it into a different word with great effort, “--loody Hell!”

Muscles finally relaxed, he managed to shift himself to lay by Ginny’s side.

“Bloody hell?” Ginny asked, turning to Harry and smiling. “I think you’ve been spending too much time with Ron, dear.”

Much later, Harry lay awake in bed. Ginny slept soundly beside him and had thankfully not inquired too much about the frantic nature of their coupling. Harry kept remembering those last moments in his head again and again, wondering just what the hell was wrong with him? Was it just that Parvati’s attitude was plaguing him even now? Or was he just a fool who always wanted most what he couldn’t have? He couldn’t tell and thus he couldn’t sleep, his brain working at the problem by uselessly going in circles.

*~

“Looks like our stupid plan is turning up a lead,” Harry said, a week later.

Parvati remained eternally unimpressed.

“Let me know when your stupid plan actually turns up some results.”

Harry’s jaw tightened at the jibe but, mustering his best attempt at professionalism, he tried to continue as if the witch hadn’t said anything else.

“Eldyn Sankey,” he said, throwing down a picture of grubby looking wizard on Parvati’s desk. It had been taking with a muggle camera, so the subject couldn’t walk out of the frame. “He’s a regular visitor to Knockturn Alley.”

“You realise that’s not actually illegal, right, Potter? Lots of fine, upstanding witches and wizards go there every day without consorting with the black powers. ”

“Perhaps, but Mr Sankey has visited the Alley every month, like clockwork. He visits the same four shops, in the exact same order.”

“So the man likes his routine.”

“And he visits various shops in Diagon Alley at infrequent intervals, where he gathers normal supplies. His visits to Knockturn don’t fit the same pattern. Clearly, they’re arranged according to someone else’s schedule.”

“Still, that’s awfully flimsy evidence to haul a bloke in on.”

“Which is why we’re trailing him instead,” Harry said more quickly, getting annoyed by Parvati’s glib tone despite his resolve to remain calm.

“And how did you find all this out, anyway?” Parvati asked.

“I have my sources.” A faint trace of smugness crept its way into Harry’s voice.

“Browbeating things out of Mundungus Fletcher doesn’t count as ‘having a source’, Harry.”

“Oh, well then,” Harry started snidely, his temper getting the better of him, “we’ll just not follow him then, thereby not achieve anything so we can keep working this case together.”

Parvati jumped to her feet ready to go.

As it turned out, Sankey was a small, grimy man, who reminded Harry of none so much as Argus Filch, the Hogwarts caretaker. Harry and Parvati spent most of the afternoon trailing him doing his rounds for whomever it was he did rounds for and as this procedure. necessitated that they remain together in close proximity, this had only frayed their tempers further.

“Well so far, he’s bought bad incense, some minor trinkets from the amulet shop, and cheap rum from a street peddler. Clearly, he is a menace to the wizarding world,” Parvati commented dryly during their third hour of stake out.  

“It’s not what’s he buying, it’s who he’s giving it to,” Harry shot back. 

“Of all the stubborn—” Parvati bit back harsher words.  “He’s not giving it to anyone. He’s just an innocent man.”

“Right.  An innocent man wandering Knockturn Alley every month.”

“Let’s just ask him about it then,” Parvati said, far too loudly. “As Aurors we’ll allowed to question people.” 

“We’re here to track the guy, Parvati, not confront him.”

“What’s the matter?” Parvati held a nasty glimmer in her eye. “Afraid?”

“What?”

“Your killer rep would go down the toilet, if some two-bit chump got the better of you. And there’s no prophecy covering your overrated arse these days, Potter. Some of us don’t need to worry about that, though.”

Harry spluttered at the sudden venom in her voice and failed to object as Parvati stepped out of their hiding place and into plain view.

“Oi, you, Sankey,” Parvati said in a loud, authoritarian voice. “Can we have a word?”

The grubby wizard’s eyes bulged as Harry stepped up alongside Parvati. Then he scarpered.  He managed such a fast pace that the metal pins holding his boots together threw up sparks as they scraped the pavement. Harry noticed with fleeting satisfaction the surprise on Parvati’s face. As a rule, innocent men didn’t run.  He had actually been right—Sankey had something to hide.

The two Aurors took off after Sankey in hot pursuit. He may have surprised them with his quick dash for freedom, but it quickly became clear that he was not a good runner.  By the time he ducked into a side road leading off Knockturn, he was already wheezing and they were only a couple of steps behind. Still, beneath the heavy breathing and thunder of boots on cobbles, Harry just managed to catch another sound, a tinny, clattering noise. A sudden feeling of foreboding swept through Harry.

“Wait, Parv … ”  He reached for her as they both rounded the corner but she took no notice.

Then Harry saw it.  One of the pewter amulets Sankey had purchased was glowing red hot. Grabbing Parvati by the back of her collar, he pulled her back with an adrenaline-fuelled yank just as a great gout of magical flame erupted from the alleyway entrance.

By the time the smoke cleared, Sankey was gone.

Essington didn’t stop yelling at them for quite some time after they reported in.  They stood ramrod straight in front of his desk while he paced behind it, yelling and gesturing vociferously. After about half an hour, he suddenly turned on them with a demand.

“And what do you have to say for yourself?”

Harry suppressed the urge to glance at Parvati and instead said the only thing possible- the only answer that had even the slightest possibility of not setting of another hour of ranting.

“No excuse, sir,” he said, forcing his voice to remain even.

“Damn right, you’ve got no excuse!” Essington bellowed. “Never in my life have I heard of such sloppy work! Not only did you fail to get any information of real worth, you tipped off Sankey! He and whoever he works for—if anyone—will be on their guard and doubly harder to find. And to think that Shacklebolt had high hopes for you.  Instead, you’ll both be spending the next six months on desk duty and considering yourselves lucky. Now, get out of my sight.”

Harry and Parvati marched out of the office and along the corridor with near military precision. They were half way down the corridor and out of earshot of Essington’s office before he acted. He grabbed Parvati’s arm, and in one quick dash, dragged them both into the nearest room—the walk-in stationary cupboard.

Parvati was outraged and turned on Harry with fist raised. The expression on Harry’s face, however, brought her up short.

Harry looked quite demented, his fury rolling off of him like molten lava in almost visible waves. Soot was still daubed over one cheek and across his right sleeve, and a great chunk of his hair was missing, the ends charred black.

“I was fine with your pissy attitude, Parvati. I didn’t understand it but I could live with it. We’re Aurors, after all. Professionals. But that was before you almost got me charred to a crisp and ruined our case. So I’m going to ask you finally.  What the hell is your problem?”

“My problem?” Parvati snarled. “You’re saying you don’t have any idea why I have a problem with you?”

“No, I don’t. I had nothing but fond memories of you until you showed up here with a chip on your shoulder.”

“How about the fact that every time you fucked me, you were thinking of your ginger crush?” 

“What?” Shock rippled through Harry, shattering his anger and leaving him awash with confusion. “That’s not how it was.”

“Of course it was. No sooner do you stop shagging me in class rooms than you’re snogging her in full view of everyone. You didn’t keep her a secret, did you?”

Realisation of what Parvati meant poured through Harry, leaving only guilt. In a way, she was quite right, but he’d never realised she’d known or cared about that. It had just been a bit of fun, hadn’t it? But obviously now he was faced with the fact that she did care and his carelessness had left a dear friend deeply hurt. The knowledge left a deep ache in Harry’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” he said.  It was the simple truth. 

“Save it,” Parvati growled and turned to leave.

“Parvati, wait!”  Harry caught up to her with a couple of long strides. His hand found one of her arms and pulled her around. As he did so, a sense of déjà vu struck him with enough force that he felt dizzy and suddenly he and Parvati were face to face again, his eyes glimmering with a manic light. Parvati tried to pull away but Harry held on tight.  He had to make her understand, had to make amends. She could punch him or she could kiss him but he wasn’t letting her go again.

The tension between them shattered. Long forgotten lusts plunged to the front of Harry’s mind as her lips crashed down on his and she seized a handful of robes, pulling him close. They started to snog passionately and Parvati pushed forward until Harry’s back was against the wall.  They brought their lips together in a series of quick hard kisses.

“W-we. Shouldn’t.  Be. Doing. This.” Parvati gasped out one word at a time between lip locks.

It was true, Harry thought, but it was also the sexiest thing he’d ever heard.

The realisation of what he was doing hit Harry like a punch to the gut a second later. He was betraying Ginny. Practically cheating on the love of his life for what? Nothing more than an irrational, animalistic attraction.

He tore himself away from her and staggered back.

“You’re right. We can’t do this,” he said shakily. “I’m so sorry.”

Then he fled.

*~~

When Ginny returned home to Grimmauld Place (and she did now consider Grimmauld Place home and not The Burrow), it was after a long day of shopping, dining, and meeting of old friends, and all she wanted to do was have some of Harry’s cooking then curl up on the sofa with him for the evening.

As soon as she entered Harry’s grand old house, though, it became clear that this was unlikely to happen. There was an aura of gloom about the place that was not at all helped by the dim lighting throughout the house. The only light that appeared to be on was coming from the lounge; it cast a single stripe of gold light across the entrance hall’s floor through a crack of the doorway.

“Harry?” Ginny called in curiosity, but there was no audible response. Abandoning her shopping bags just inside the door, she approached the room, moving slowly and cautiously on an instinct she couldn’t quite explain. Her eyes widened at what she saw inside.

Harry was sprawled slumped down in an armchair, with soot smeared down one side of his face. His Auror robes and tie lay discarded in another chair and his shirt was half unbuttoned, showing off a dark blazon of chest hair standing out against pale flesh. Most surprisingly was the large glass tumbler he held loosely in one hand and the open bottle of firewhiskey on the end table next to him.

“Harry? What on Earth are you doing?” Ginny said taking a couple of quick steps towards him.

“Hi Gin!” Harry said, apparently only just becoming aware of her presence, and he waved with the jubilance of the tipsy.

“Harry? What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong.” Harry smiled, “I just knocked my career back by about a year”

“What?” How?”

“Oh, and I found out why Parvati was so mad at me.”

That seemed like a complete non sequitur to Ginny but it seemed important to Harry.  She sat down next to him.

“Well why don’t you tell me about it then?”

“Oh no, you don’t want to know about that,” Harry said.

Now Ginny knew Harry very well, so when he said that she wouldn’t like what she heard, she knew he was telling her the truth. On the other hand she could also see the worry and fear that were eating away at him. Even after all these years, he still felt the need to protect her from things, but if he was hurting, driven to drink by something, she wasn’t going to stand for that. He had to tell her and then they could work through whatever it was, together.

“Harry,” she said firmly, taking his hand in hers, “tell me what happened.”

“I kissed her,” He whispered, “I mean, she kissed me. I mean there was mutual kissing going in. It’s confusing.”

The world spun. Confusion filled Ginny.

“I-I think you’d better explain Harry,” She forced herself to say.

So Harry began to tell his story…

Part II