Unchained Desires

Chapter One

*~*

Ginny Weasley

Hermione Granger-Weasley smiled warmly as her sister-in-law, Ginny, apparated into the mud room of the Burrow. Hermione had just left the crowded kitchen to move the newest batch of Christmas presents into the family room when she caught sight of the red head.

Ginny returned her smile brightly. "Hermione! How have you been?" She immediately moved forward to help lighten the heavy load of presents Hermione had been carrying.

"Well enough," she answered, leading the way into the family room. "Molly decided that it should be a witch's day and sent the men off. They're watching the kids while we wrap all the gifts."

Chuckling, the red head said, "I can almost pity them. I hear that Amber and Marcus are trouble now, bet that they make their way around."

Hermione sighed, "So Alicia and Lisa keep telling me. Arthur does a pretty good job of keeping his sister out of things, but no one really pays much attention to Marcus."

Setting down the packages Ginny straightened with another grin, brushing aside a strand of dark red hair. "I bet you just can't wait until you and Ron start having to worry about a little one. Mum has practically been hinting all year, you know. It's been three years since the wedding and she's starting to expect her next grandchild soon."

Hermione scowled at her. "I really don't see where it's anyone else's business," she commented with a sniff, moving back towards the kitchen.

The younger witch laughed. "You better inform Fred and George. They've already taken out tabs on the announcement date."

She said the last bit as they entered the kitchen and five women looked up.

"Ginny!" Molly Weasley exclaimed, rushing over to give her daughter a hug. "What took you so long dear?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You know, Mum... work."

Molly looked at her skeptically, while the other women in the room exchanged knowing glances and burst into giggles. Ginny gave them a pointed glare and Molly frowned.

"Aw, come on, Gin," George's wife, Patricia, teased. "Do you really expect us to believe that? I would be willing to bet ten galleons that you were with Harry."

Ginny blushed furiously, muttering something about putting away her cloak, and made a hasty retreat. Molly, on the other hand, seemed perfectly happy with the excuse and started humming as she set out a kettle for tea. Of all the Weasley children only two had managed not to get married over the years, Ginny and Charlie. Their lack of spouses, however, was something that Molly Weasley attempted to tackle at every family gathering.

The women at the table had come to recognize the feral look their mother-in-law could don whenever plotting. It usually resulted in either another married Weasley or another grandchild; as if they didn't have enough already.

When Ginny returned, she seated herself next to Lisa. "Somebody hand me something to wrap."

Fleur obliged her request and the kitchen was soon silent, everyone bent with devotion over their task.

"So what are George and Fred betting on again?" Patricia demanded, referring back to Ginny's last comment.

"I think the correct question would be what they aren't betting on," Alicia huffed. Her own husband, Fred, was a terrible gambler, especially when he engaged in anything involving his twin. Alicia had forbidden him from ever gambling with George, when the last time they had ended up with a whole shipment of blast-ended skrewts in their kitchen.

"The usual," Ginny answered with a smile, obviously remembering the memory. "Last I heard they were betting on when Ron and Hermione would announce the arrival of their first child."

"They wouldn't!" Molly exclaimed, shocked.

Turning to Hermione kindly she patted her hand gently.

"Not to worry, dear, I'll set them straight. I'm sure that it's nothing..." her sentence trailed off significantly and everyone couldn't help put notice the hopeful gleam in her eye.

Irritated, Hermione busied herself with the wrapping, slowly counting to ten. As much as she adored Ron's mother she couldn't stand her meddlesome ways, particularly when they intruded with her marriage to Ron. The table fell into an awkward silence until Fleur, tactful as ever, changed the subject.

"Anna and Gabrielle have decided to spend Christmas at Hogwarts," she informed them. "Something about a holiday ball."

Bill and Fleur's two twin girls were the oldest of all the grandchildren and currently in their fourth year at Hogwarts. Bill had been furious when neither one of them made it into Gryffindor. In fact, Anna had become a Ravenclaw and Gabrielle a Slytherin, shocking the entire Weasley household who had been placed in Gryffindor for decades.

"It's what he deserves," Fleur had informed Hermione shortly after the scandal, "I wanted them to go to Beauxbatons."

"Not Arianna," Patricia commented, interrupting Hermione's thoughts, "she's only a first year. She's been talking our ears off at home for the past week."

"I can't believe their in Hogwarts already," Ginny said with a sigh. She suddenly made a face before adding, "It makes me feel so old!"

Alicia laughed, flicking back her wispy brown bangs with a finger. "Thanks for the compliment, hon. Think how it makes the rest of us feel."

"Twenty-seven isn't old," Ginny protested.

"Yeah, well neither is twenty-four," Patricia shot back with a wink.

Laughing, the witches talked the afternoon away with school tales and memories. It was much later in the afternoon when they finally completed all the wrapping and retreated to the family room to admire their handiwork. Presents covered every inch of one wall and made it impossible to even reach the Christmas tree, which was currently mumbling about the enchanted ornaments they had decorated it with.

"You could have at least picked good carolers," it mumbled, shaking its limbs so that the gathered ornaments screeched in alarm, bringing their song to an abrupt end.

Used to the traditional, Muggle tree, Hermione could never quiet get over wizarding trees. Ron commented that she was obsessed when he found her up late one night, attempting to hold a conversation with their small one at home.

Hermione giggled slightly at the memory as Ginny walked over with a steaming mug of cocoa. "Thanks," she said, accepting it.

She watched with interest as Ginny fiddled with a bracelet nervously, hovering near Hermione hesitantly. Nervous was hardly a word Hermione would use to describe her youngest sister-in-law. At the age of twenty-four Ginevra Weasley had become a very appealing woman. She had matured into an elegant beauty that wasn't devastatingly gorgeous, but very becoming.

Her air of confidence had been acquired over a range of years after Hogwarts and added to the lure of her appearance. Not to mention that Ginny was always immaculate; no hair was ever out of place and she always dressed in sensible, but flattering attire.

Hermione honestly couldn't remember the last time she saw her nervous.

"Hermione..."

"Yes?"

"Could we speak for a bit?"

Curiosity piqued, she nodded and motioned to the seat next to her on the couch.

"In private," Ginny added.

More confused than ever, Hermione agreed and followed her out onto the back porch that led to the garden. Ginny cast a hasty warming charm around them to stave off the cold and she raised a brow as the red head also added a silencing charm to it.

They moved towards the porch swing and sat there sipping their cocoa silently. The Burrow was really very beautiful in the winter, with the snow covered hills and the bare forest beyond a sleep enshrouded garden. It was just beginning to darken outside as the night followed the sun's quick descent into the horizon. The night was quiet, except for the occasional chuckle of a garden gnome as a snowball flew across the garden.

Ginny finally stirred beside her and moved to look directly at Hermione, her expression serious.

"Are you happy, Hermione?"

Startled at the abruptness, she answered, "Of course!"

Appearing frustrated, the red head persisted. "No, I mean really and truly happy."

Looking at her friend dubiously, Hermione paused for a moment to consider, before saying, "Yes. Shouldn't I be?"

Ginny shrugged and looked away, a light breeze blowing strands of red hair across her face. "I suppose."

Worried, Hermione reached over to envelope her friend's hand with her own. "Are you okay, Ginny?"

"Oh yes," she answered, sarcasticly, "just peachy!"

Hermione frowned, sometimes Ginny was really too much like her older brothers.

"Yes," Ginny finally admitted with a sigh. "I'm supposed to be, aren't I? It's been three years since the Dark War and He is now gone. I have the perfect job among the Aurors, the perfect family, and the perfect life."

By the way Ginny spat out the word perfect, Hermione had a feeling that it was a touchy subject for her friend. "Those are good things," she replied slowly, careful to not flare up Ginny's temper.

Over the years, the newest family additions had all noticed that hot tempers were lasting characteristics that Molly Weasley had bestowed upon all of her children.

"Merlin knows that it took us five years of relentless fighting before we were able to end the war. That alone nearly destroyed us. Why shouldn't we deserve a few well earned things in life?"

"It's not that, exactly," Ginny explained. "It's just that sometimes I get so tired of things."

Hermione felt that she knew exactly where this was headed. "Ginny... if this is about Harry-"

"Bullocks, Harry!" her friend interrupted, throwing up a hand in exasperation. "Why is it that everyone seems to think my world revolves around him? I know he's a bloody war hero and all, but still..." she never finished, and instead let her words trail off.

Suddenly looking very sad she said, "Mum is expecting an engagement you know. It's only me and Charlie who haven't managed to tie the knot, yet. She doesn't understand my relationship with Harry."

Hermione wasn't surprised. She was their best friend and she barely understood their relationship. They had been dating for two years and yet... they weren't. One day they would be together, laughing and having a good time as they double dated with Ron and Hermione. Then the next they both would bring separate dates to a party and proceed to spend the night in another person's arms. It wasn't a healthy relationship and Hermione had pointed it out to them numerous times over the years.

Ginny had once explained it as a "free" relationship; they dated, yet occasionally saw other people.

"You mean you have affairs," Hermione demanded.

Ginny scowled at her. "No," she replied huffily. "But then I wouldn't expect you to understand. You and Ron live in your own perfect little world. Oblivious to everything even closely related to reality."

Since that discussion over two years ago Ginny had proceeded to be seen with dozens of wizards, and never with the same one twice, aside from Harry. Most of them consisted of the same characteristics as well; rich, handsome, charming, all complete with shallow personalities.

When Ginny had brought her latest one to a family dinner one night, Fred had joked that if he didn't know better he would have thought his baby sister was a gold digger. Harry and George had found it all extremely hilarious and Ginny spent the rest of the weekend going out of her way to pretend as though they didn't exist.

Dispersing her thoughts, Hermione asked, "Is it so bad that your mother expects you to marry Harry?"

"Don't you mean that everyone expects me to marry Harry," Ginny grumbled angrily.

Knowing that it was the truth, Hermione didn't answer, causing Ginny to scowl.

"I am so tired of doing what everyone expects of me, Hermione," she confided. "This morning I woke up and realized that my life was all so predictable. Even way back during Hogwarts when I used to followed you, Ron, and Harry around, although you all hardly noticed I was there."

Hermione went to protest but Ginny cut her off with a look.

"You did ignore me, Hermione. Not intentionally, but I was left out in a lot of areas. But since I was always tagging along at Hogwarts, everyone assumed that I would continue to do so, so I did. I became an Auror like the rest of you, except that you had all been emerged in the war much longer than me.

"Throughout it all everyone fought their best, but in the end it was really only Harry, Ron and you that mattered. You were the ones who defeated Him anyway."

"You were the one who killed Bellatrix Lestrange, one of the best Dark Arts witches of our time," Hermione added gently.

Ginny shrugged and took a sip of cocoa, her eyes became distant. She winced at a sudden memory, and having suffered her own flashbacks, Hermione stayed silent.

Beside her, Ginny shifted uncomfortably before stating, "I wouldn't have been able to defeat her without all those DA meetings and my own personalized training by Dumbledore would I?"

Waving away the brunette's response she said, "Don't bother answering. I need to get this off my mind."

Settling in once more she continued, "When the war ended, what was there left to do? It had practically enveloped our entire world into it and for a while I don't think anyone knew how to adjust... not really. Harry retreated into seclusion for a year, which I can hardly blame him. The war took more out of him than any of us. Ron proposed to you."

She smiled over at her sister-in-law fondly. "As for me? I became a Dark Arts master and specialist and now train all of the Auror trainees, sometimes I occasionally take assignments. When Harry returned he enlisted with the International Committee's spy network, which was probably the perfect job for him and then we started dating..." she trailed off, silently brooding.

Hermione could understand some of Ginny's feelings. Ron confided a lot of the same things to her. She supposed that it came from living in large families; the youngest were always having to live up to someone else's image.

And it was true, that once pointed out, Ginny had done pretty much what everyone had expected of her. After two years of training with them in the DA, Hermione would have been shocked if she didn't progress to an Auror after Hogwarts.

"Is it really all that bad?" she asked quietly.

"No," Ginny admitted, "but I hate it. It's so predictable."

She looked at Hermione with listless brown eyes, the most unanimated her friend had ever seen those cinnamon depths.

"Do you know what I see for myself?"

Hermione shook her head, unsure if she even wanted to.

"I see me eventually marrying Harry, although neither of us will truly love each other that way. But it will be expected and it wouldn't do to disappoint will it?" She smiled bitterly. "I see me down the road a few years with a passel of brats, stuck at home, and completely bored with my life."

Ginny's bitterness and glum mood was oppressive and weighed down on Hermione depressingly. Her friend did have a point at the predictability, but she had never truly seen it that way before.

After the war it was impossible to not be recognized where ever she went. She, Harry and Ron had become beloved war heroes after Voldemort's demise. No longer feeling challenged as an Auror, Hermione had proceeded to become a Charms expert and headed the research foundation at the Ministry while also investigating older tomes and remains for the Egyptian Gringotts Vaults.

She lived her life as carefree and independent as one could within a marriage. It was something that Ron has always constantly complained about.

"Sometimes, I feel as if all you need me for is the money," he joked months ago after she had informed him of her decision to accept an assignment in Egypt.

Hermione laughed. "Of course not, darling. I have enough of that on my own." She winked at him.

"Oh?" he declared, moving forward to encircle his arms about her waist. "So what do you need me for?" He lowered his head to her neck and planted a light kiss beneath one ear lobe.

Smiling, she answered innocently, "Well, the sex is quite good."

The memory still brought a smile to her face. Even though her marriage to Ron had been one expected by practically the entire wizarding world, it was something she never regretted. They hardly ever saw each other during Ron's game season with the Chudely Canons and she was constantly occupied with work. But they worked through it, and now they were about to take the next biggest step in their lives.

Looking down at her now cooling cocoa Hermione said, "Ginny," she bit her lip nervously, "I'm pregnant."

The red head stiffened beside her. "Hermione! Why that's, that's... that's bloody brilliant!"

She jumped up to envelope her in a tight embrace. "Why haven't you said anything?"

Hermione smiled at the joy in her sister's face. "Ron wanted to wait until Christmas." '

Ginny laughed.

"Fred won't be too happy." At Hermione's questioning glance she added, "His bet was for New Years, George was all for tomorrow. It seems as if my brother might be sleeping on the couch tomorrow. Alicia has been telling him not to fall for our brother's bribes."

The two witches chuckled together before an uncomfortable silence fell among them once more.

"Hermione," Ginny began uncertainly. "I didn't mean to make it out that your live is so-"

"Predictable?" the brunette interrupted with a smile. "It's okay."

Ginny frowned. "I just get so frustrated sometimes."

"I understand," Hermione sympathized. "At least I think I do in some way. It'll work out."

A sudden commotion in the house drew their attention before more could be said.

"We do NOT cackle, Fred Weasley!" Alicia could be heard scolding her husband.

Stretching, Hermione said, "Sounds like the men have returned with the kids."

Standing, the two witches embraced fondly. "Thanks, Hermione," Ginny said softly.

"Thank you," Hermione retorted, "I am glad that you and I are still able to talk to each other."

Arm and arm, they entered the now lively house. Enthusiastic nieces and nephews ran about the room, examining their multitude of gifts as the wives greeted their husbands.

Percy, forever the most proper of the boys, blushed slightly when Lisa gave him a firm kiss, plucking their three year old daughter, Amber, from his grasp. Hermione smiled at the sight of them, before her husband spotted her and waded through the crowd.

"There you are," he said, walking over to slip an arm around her waist. He glanced between her and his sister quizzically, "Everything all right?"

"Fine," Ginny answered, moving past him to greet Harry, who had some how managed to arrive with the others.

He lounged against a nearby doorway, dressed completely in black as he watched the children in amusement. Looking up, he grinned as he saw Ginny approach.

After her conversation with Ginny, Hermione couldn't help but watch, interested. Harry straightened just before Ginny reached him and leaned down to plant a kiss on her lips, one of his hands moving to rest possessively on her hip.

"Hello, love," he greeted, when he broke off the kiss.

Ginny smiled at him brilliantly. "Hello yourself, Mister Potter."

They would make such a perfect couple, Hermione mused silently.

"Hey, Potter!" George yelled into the hallway. "Either break it up or get a priest!"

"GEORGE!" Patricia and Molly chorused together, causing the wizard to wince at the lecture to come.

Harry and Ginny laughed as Molly began a well brandished lecture. Hermione wondered if she was the only one who noticed the tension behind a certain pair of cinnamon eyes.

*~*

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather come back to my place?" Harry whispered in Ginny's ear.

After saying good night to her family, and promising that she would see them bright and early in the morning, Harry had followed her into the mud room. He currently had her trapped against him with his hands warm on the small of her back.

Ginny smirked up at him, unable to stop herself from studying his handsome face; firm jaw line, straight nose, dark green eyes, and charming smile. Brushing away a strand of his slightly too long raven hair, she brushed her lips across his own. He tried to deepen it and she evaded him quickly.

"Not tonight," she said finally. "I'm tired, grumpy, and craving a hot bath and glass of wine," catching a humorous sparkle in his eyes she added firmly, "by myself."

He sighed comically. "Are you going to leave a bloke lonely on Christmas Eve?"

Moving away from him to claim her cloak Ginny asked lightly, "Whatever happened to Miranda?"

"Gareth Nimenth happened," he answered.

"You don't mean head-of-Nimenth-lawfirm-Gareth do you?"

"The one and only," he groaned jokingly.

"How in the world did she get someone like that?" Ginny pondered out loud, clasping the catch on her cloak.

Harry chuckled and moved up behind her, arms wrapping around her. "Worried about the competition?"

"Hardly," she admonished with a humorous snort, "Gareth is old news now. Richard Fringe, now that's a catch."

Harry laughed and kissed her temple, "Happy Christmas Eve, Ginny."

Leaning back into the comforting warmth of one of her closest friends Ginny smiled sadly, it was too bad that nothing could ever amount between them. "You too, Harry," she whispered quietly before apparating.

Seconds later Ginny arrived at her flat in Diagon Alley. The room around her was pitch black, seeing how she had left during the day, and she twitched her wand at the nearby candles. They lit up with a flare around the walls, illuminating the nicely furnished room and revealing a tall figure lounging in one of the chairs.

Masking her surprise, Ginny raised a brow at the wizard.

"What are you doing here lurking in the dark?" she demanded, walking briskly into the room to deposit her cloak in a chair with her pumps next to it.

Moving over to her table, where a Ministry owl had dropped off her mail, she said, "Scratch that, how the hell did you get in?"

She was aware of his eyes watching her hungrily and tossing her mail pack onto the table, she turned to meet his devouring gaze.

"I thought that it would be obvious for someone as well connected as myself," he answered, displaying a devilish smirk.

Rising elegantly, he moved towards her with purpose, his movements fluid and graceful. Ginny crossed her arms as he paused before her, and glared at him angrily.

"I don't appreciate having my privacy intruded upon," she replied. "Although I guess I could hardly expect someone like you to understand that."

She brushed past him, fully intent on slamming her bed room door in his face, when a strong arm snaked around her waist and pulled her against his warm body. Temper rising, Ginny wiggled against him.

"Not tonight, okay," she slapped away one of his hands as he lowered his head, hair brushing her cheek as his hot breath invaded her senses.

"Why not?" he asked huskily, running his other hand up and down her back.

Of all the men Ginny had been with, none of them had ever evoked the same reactions out of her as he did. It was as if he was born knowing exactly how to touch her and it seemed that no matter what she did she couldn't help melting into his caress. Sensing her relenting, he pulled her even closer until she was pressed against him firmly, the evidence of his determination pressing against her hip.

Their relationship - or whatever it was that was going on between them - had lasted longer than any of Ginny's other affairs. It was now bordering on four months and she had assumed that he would at least grow tired of her. But he showed no signs of it, and to tell the truth, Ginny wasn't complaining.

As he began to press wet kisses along her neck and collarbone she mumbled, "Do you ever take no as an answer."

She felt him smirk against her skin, his tongue darting out to touch a sensitive area, making her to gasp.

"No," he replied deeply.

"But then again, why would you," Ginny retorted, sarcastically, "your fiancée' has absolutely no idea."

The arm around her waist tightened painfully and pulling back he looked down on her with an expressionless face. "Enough," he commanded harshly. He picked her up swiftly to proceed down the hallway to the bed room.

As he then continued to lavish attention on her Ginny couldn't help put succumb to his ministrations and met his kiss with a fevered one of her own. Smirking against her lips, he pushed her back onto the bed. The last coherent memory she had was that of his amused laughter, rumbling somewhere in the darkness around her.

When Ginny woke up the next morning she stretched languidly, content to stay in her nest of warmth forever. Unfortunately, her family (mostly the nieces and nephews) would not wait to open presents until forever.

Moving to get up she noticed with expectation that she was alone. He never stayed long enough for them to wake up together, and personally she was grateful for that. It would seem so much more real waking up with him in the light that streamed in from her windows, other than late at night, in the flickering weak light of candles.

A glint from the neighboring pillow caught her eye, and grinning she picked it up. She admired the beautiful diamond earrings with appreciation. They must have cost a fortune, but then he could afford it. It was a shame that she would have to return them.

He always left her some trinket on her pillow after they had spent a night together. The first time she had confronted him about it he had laughed, his chest rumbling beneath her.

"It is payment, kitten," he drawled, nibbling on an ear lobe, "for services well rendered."

Needless to say, after that Ginny had always returned his gifts. Ginevra Weasley was no whore!

True, she had slept with some wizards outside of her relationship with Harry, but it was a mutual arrangement they had. Besides, she had only been with a few and they never lasted as long as this one had.

At first, her paramour had been rather shocked that she didn't want the trinkets. He then seemed amused at her reluctance and became more persistent and costly with his gifts, thinking that if they were more expensive she couldn't possibly return them. It was a game that they constantly played with each other.

Yawning, Ginny closed the jewelry box firmly and tossed it onto her night table. She'd have to give them back later, but first she needed a shower, breakfast, and then to tackle her large, rather merry, family.

One hour later, her night escapade forgotten, she walked into her family's living room to the jubilant chorus of, "Happy Christmas!"