The Bargain

Chapter Eight - Young Love

August 7

"So where are we bound for today?" Harry asked Ginny as they tackled the morning dishes. Harry had planned their last official date, so Ginny had volunteered to plan the next one.

Passing a wet plate to Ginny for drying, Harry watched her wrinkle her nose. "I had planned to take a walk through the village and around the countryside...." She wiped the plate dry and slipped it into a dish rack on her left. "But since we just went into town yesterday to shop, I'm not sure if that's such a grand idea."

As she spoke, Harry rubbed his soapy sponge on a handful of forks and knives and rinsed them in the running water. "That sounds fun, actually. Yesterday we had a job to do and today it's all about us," he pointed out. "The village will look much different when we're there to enjoy ourselves, rather than to pick up not-quite-ripe apples."

"Hmm," Ginny said as she dropped the wet silverware into the drying cup attached to the rack. "That might work." Then with a twinkle in her eye, she lightly popped Harry on the backside with the tip of her towel and said, "Meet me back in the kitchen in thirty minutes."

Harry lunged at her with soapy hands, but she ducked just in time. As she disappeared around the corner of the stairwell, laughing as she went, Harry called after her, "You'll get yours, missy."

Turning back to the rest of the dishes, Harry shook his head and absently thought of an appropriate method of vengeance.

*

A stray breeze blew Ginny's hair around her face as the sun rose higher over the Eastern horizon. She and Harry were taking a different route into town; one that took them past the Lovegood's empty house (Luna and her father were abroad for the week), and onto the road shared by the grocers they had visited yesterday. Poplar trees loomed over them and shaded their journey, their rustling leaves providing a backdrop of gentle noise as they walked.

Harry's hand rested comfortably in hers and the smile that split Ginny's face was wide and welcomed. Ever since their relationship had become more intimate, she couldn't help but look for black velvet boxes, or to spy out of the corner of her eye any intention for him to get down on one knee.

Such a moment had happened last night after dinner, and Ginny could still feel the bruise on her heart where it had hammered against her rib cage in anticipation. Unfortunately, he had only dropped a serviette and bent to retrieve it. The smile on Ginny's face dwindled for only a second at the memory, but the bright blue sky and happy feeling flowing up from their joined hands made it impossible to entertain such melancholy thoughts for very long.

Ginny led Harry around a corner that took them towards the old castle on the edge of town. On the right was a series of small shops, similar to the ones that contained Volker's Victuals and Mr. Trimble's Bakery. These, however, were all dedicated to the art of romance. A chocolate shop, featuring several shelves of expensive-looking truffles and creams, was followed by a jeweller's and formal dress store. At the end of the row, Ginny guided Harry to a stop in front of a narrow shop that barely had enough room for the door, and Harry looked like he clearly didn't expect there to be much of a shop behind it.

"Besides the Quibbler, it's the only magical building in Ottery St. Catchpole," Ginny explained. "This is where Mum's going to buy our flowers - for the wedding."

"Really?" he asked nonchalantly, as if there was nothing in the world less interesting than a shop full of flowers.

Ginny, however, wasn't going to allow him to burst her bubble of happiness today. "Let's go inside. I wonder if we can get a peek at what Mum's ordered."

Then, without waiting for him give any kind of reply, she pulled him into the shop and was rewarded with the most dazzling display of fresh-cut flowers she had ever seen. Roses, daisies, lilies, mums, and a dozen other varieties sprung from every corner of the room, filling her nostrils with a heady mixture of sweet fragrances. With a giddy glee, Ginny stepped over to a dozen roses and stroked their velvet petals with her fingers.

The shop itself was much larger on the inside, due to it being magically enlarged. Ginny knew that the Muggles wouldn't be able to even see the shop entrance and enjoyed having a Wizarding flower shop in her own village.

Catching a glimpse of Harry out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw him looking back at her, a casual smile gracing his lips. She turned back to the roses and was imagining Harry giving them to her for an engagement present, when a door opened at the back of the shop.

"Oh, hello," came the friendly voice of a middle-aged woman. She had a long green apron covering her from neck to knee and a pair of gloves perched in the one large pocket on its front. The name Violet was stencilled in white across the upper-left portion. "Can I be of any assistance?"

Before Ginny could say anything, however, Harry opened his mouth. "Yes, actually. We'd like to see if an order has been placed for the Weasley-Potter wedding."

The clerk's face brightened upon hearing their names. "Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley!" she exclaimed. "Oh, I was hoping that you'd come by."

"Hello, Mrs. Fawcett," Ginny said as sat on a stool by the till. "How is Sarah feeling?"

Sarah Fawcett was a Ravenclaw in Harry's year, and had been suffering from Dragon Pox since the day before Harry's birthday. "She's almost better," Mrs. Fawcett replied. "Though I expect her to be completely healthy in time to help me deliver these flowers."

Mrs. Fawcett leafed through a box of order slips and pulled out one from the back. "It's not the largest wedding I've done," she explained over her horn-rimmed glasses. "Still, it's not the smallest, either. Did you want to look at the list?"

Ginny walked forward and took the paper from her hand before Harry could. She felt him gaze over her shoulder as she read down the list. It was small, but Ginny knew that her mum wouldn't be able to eat for weeks if the total at the bottom was accurate.

"What would you change?" Harry quietly asked into her ear. "If you could have all the flowers in the world at your wedding, what would you choose?"

Her pulse quickened at the thought of an extravagantly apportioned hall at the church, festooned with all her favourites. Then she realised that the reason Harry had approached the shop-keeper in the first place was that he had every intention of altering the order, and that the list wasn't going to get shorter.

The protest that welled up inside her must have been visible, however, for Harry placed a single finger on her lips. "Remember what we talked about after the cinema? Let me pay for these? I want you to be happy, Ginny, and I know that you won't be if you're distracted by the decorations. Please?"

Harry's sincerity won out over Ginny's ingrained frugality. She was used to getting by with very little and an unbidden wave of guilt crashed over her - there was something about spending this much money on things as fleeting as flowers that seemed to go against her very nature. But the emotions visible on Harry's normally-passive expression convinced her. He wanted her to be happy, and if buying her loads of flowers would do that, then for the first time in her life, she would let him splurge.

"All right," she relented and turned back to the older woman. "We'll need to see some of your brochures." Then, glancing back at Harry, Ginny said, "This might take a while."

*

Harry walked out of the flower shop with a three-page receipt and a much lighter money-pouch. Ginny was absolutely brimming with delight and, to Harry, the money simply didn't matter as much as the bright smile on her face.

What's more, something had twigged in Harry's memory while they flipped through pages and pages of colourful and increasingly expensive flower arrangements - something to do with the ancient Wizarding traditions of arranged marriages. Hermione's research had been quite thorough and if Harry played his cards right, he might be able to prank Ginny for her cheekiness that morning.

They walked hand in hand down the lane and the businesses gradually melted into a small residential area. Small cottages and homey estates surrounded them, some with their owners busily gardening or relaxing on chairs and under umbrellas.

"Hello young lovers," said a cheery man who looked to be about the same age as Ginny's father. He had a full head of greying hair and a bushy brown beard streaked with grey. "It's a very fine day for a walk."

"Yes, it is," Ginny agreed. Her step was light and her happiness radiated into the air.

The man's wife stood up from behind a hedge where she had been pulling weeds. Several of the gangly plants were held firmly in one hand as she swatted her husband with the other. "Stop gawking at the young couple, Johnny."

Johnny wasn't perturbed by her command, however. "I'm not gawking, Caroline. They're obviously in love and a moment of staring from a dotty old man like me certainly isn't going to take any of the shine off of them."

Ginny held her hand to her mouth as they passed by, trying to hold in a fit of laughter as Harry nodded politely at the older couple.

"No," answered Caroline, "but you look at me the same way he's looking at her, and after twenty-two years I recognise mischief brewing when I see it."

Johnny didn't answer and when Harry turned back to see what had transpired, he fought off a blush and quickly faced forward.

"What did you see?" Ginny asked, resting her head on his shoulder as they continued on.

Harry cleared his throat. "Well," he began in a whisper, "if he catches her, I wouldn't expect there to be much more gardening today."

They turned another corner and were now face-to-face with the large castle from the previous day. The river coursed around the property, outlining the boundary between it and the village, and continued on to the sea. As they stood on the corner, admiring the battlements and turrets, Harry blurted, "Let's go check it out."

Ginny looked from the castle to Harry and back again. "Why?"

"I dunno," Harry answered sheepishly. "Because it's there and looks interesting?"

Giggling for no reason that Harry could imagine, Ginny nodded her head and said, "All right, but Mum will have a conniption if we're caught sneaking around there."

A flash of determination swept through Harry just then. "If Fred and George couldn't get in, then we'll just have to."

Ginny had been about to say something else when another, much older couple met them on the walk.

"Good morning," Harry said and made room for them to walk by.

"Hello, lad," the elderly gentleman said and began to shuffle past. His wife held onto his arm and followed his lead as they walked on. One of the bags she was carrying gave a stuttering ripping sound and fell from her grasp. It hit the ground with a dull thud and spilled its contents across the walk.

Harry and Ginny rushed to help them pick up their packages and Harry had to resist repairing the bag with his wand. It was hopelessly torn, but together, Harry and Ginny had enough arms to carry what was on the ground.

"Do you live close by?" Harry asked gently. "We could just carry these to your house for you."

The elderly man appraised the teens, his grey eyes matching his withered hair, and nodded. "You are very kind to offer your help, young man. I wonder what mischief you have in mind, however."

"Now, Harold," chastised his wife, with her tone and a matching severe look. "You'll take their help, or we'll have to leave our groceries strewn on the walk and come back with another bag."

Harold waved his hand and began to turn back around. "Let them help," he grumbled. "Probably going to try to rob us blind, as well."

"Never mind him," Harold's wife soothed. "He's just cantankerous and ornery. We're just up the street."

Ginny shrugged her shoulders as the older pair shuffled off and she and Harry followed them. Harry looked at how, despite his disagreeable exterior, the elderly man seemed to take extra care of his wife, and in the back of his mind, a flash of anticipation appeared - would he and Ginny be so dependent on each other when they were so old?

They deposited the groceries and left as soon as they could, but not without being cajoled into helping them with a jumble sale the following day.

"Why did you agree to that?" Harry prodded as they walked back towards the castle.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You saw them, Harry. They could barely manage running out for groceries, there's no way they could load up those boxes for the parish, let alone stand about all day selling it."

The jumble sale would be held that Saturday, the eighth, at the old parish building that served as the village's local community centre. It happened to also be the location of their upcoming wedding, three days later.

"I suppose." Harry dismissed the argument and the nervous flutter that came every time he thought about the wedding. He looked up and was once again faced with the tall, proud lines of the weathered stone castle. He grabbed Ginny's hand and said, "You ready?"

She looked up at him and planted a kiss on his cheek. "You're mental, but yes, I'm ready."

"Excellent," Harry said, and they crossed the bridge and onto the sloping lawn.

*

The castle proved to be quite difficult to enter. Apparently, Harry hadn't counted on the medieval architecture, complete with moat, drawbridge, and high, thin windows. Now he knew why Fred and George had had such a difficult time with it.

"Bugger," he muttered after they had circumnavigated the entire structure. "I'd just Apparate us inside, but I don't know what the inside looks like; I could splinch us on a tree or something." He rubbed his chin for a second more and then snapped his fingers. "I could get in there with my Firebolt, though."

"Harry," Ginny scolded lightly. "Even if there's no one inside, you can't just fly up to the battlements - the Muggles will see!" Then a twinkle lit in her eyes and she rubbed Harry's arm. "But we could slip under your Cloak, broom and all...."

His determined face morphed into a smile. "I'll be right back."

Ginny wanted to scold him again, but the thrill of doing something illicit, yet harmless, captivated her. Perhaps it was the bit of her that was like the twins, or perhaps there was some gene that she had inherited from her parents that prompted her to be risky. Maybe it had been kept secret, but lived in her mum and dad as well, and manifested itself in her from time to time. Regardless of the reason, she longed to be on the broom with Harry, under the Cloak, and agreed.

"Okay," Ginny whispered, squeezing his hand, "but don't be long."

He held her close for a second, and then disappeared with a crack.

With nothing to do but enjoy the scenery, Ginny sat down to wait.

The castle was on the top of a small rise that gradually sloped up from the river and back down, on the other side, to a glade. From this position, Ginny could see Stoatshead Hill, and to the south, a thin stretch of blue beneath a distant cloud that was the North Sea.

A light breeze blew her hair into her face and Ginny gathered it into a ponytail and used a rubber band from her pocket to tie it back. Another crack announced Harry's return and Ginny stood, brushing bits of grass off her jeans as she did so.

"Are you ready?" Harry asked, mounting his broom and tapping the front of it where he wanted her to sit. His other hand held the smooth silky material that was his Invisibility Cloak.

A familiar thrill worked its way to the tips of her fingers and she hopped eagerly onto the Firebolt.

"Stay close to me," Harry whispered into her ear, sending shivers up her spine. He whipped the Cloak over them and Ginny could literally feel them disappear from the world. "I won't be able to cover the whole broomstick like this, and I'll have to go slow to keep it from coming off."

Ginny remained silent, content to let Harry lead them. He wrapped an arm around her middle and used the other one to steer. Ginny held onto the Cloak with both hands and felt abnormally unbalanced as they lifted off from the ground.

In the air, the wind whipped at the Cloak and Ginny was surprised it hadn't already lifted off their heads. Soon, they were hovering over the battlements and descended into the courtyard.

A polished marble fountain gurgled quietly amongst an immaculately-pruned rose garden. There were statues of centaurs and unicorns on one side and topiary sculptures on the other.

"It doesn't look very deserted," Harry remarked as he wrapped the Firebolt in his Cloak.

"No," Ginny agreed, "it doesn't."

They walked around the roses and towards one of the large, oak double-doors that must have been the main castle entrance. Harry approached it carefully, and took out his wand. He muttered something that Ginny didn't recognize and a faint orange glow infused the knotted door.

"It's not charmed or hexed," Harry said and tapped the knob. "Alohamora."

The door clicked open and Harry reached out a hand to push it open. Ginny took the invisible broom from his other hand and laced her fingers with his.

A large tapestry greeted them as they entered, literally. "Hello. Who might you be?"

"Ah!" Harry exclaimed and stumbled backwards, pulling Ginny with him. "It's a wizard's castle."

The door slammed as they continued to back-pedal. Ginny began to hastily unwrap the broom so they could escape, when they heard someone yelling behind them.

"Oi! What are you lot doing here? This is private property, this is!"

They froze and turned to see a large man moving swiftly towards them, a long spade in one hand that he waved indignantly in their direction.

Harry pulled Ginny's hand and they rushed around the garden towards one of the larger statues. When they were behind it, Harry crouched low so that they were hidden and pulled Ginny close. "Hold tight," he said and Ginny felt the strange sensation that reminded her of an impending lightning strike before they were suddenly outside the castle again.

Standing abruptly, Harry made sure Ginny was all right and they took off running back towards the village. As they crossed the bridge that marked the edge of the territory, a giddy feeling washed over her and she started giggling.

They stopped and leaned against a small stone fence on the walk that led into the village and the giggles turned into laughter. Soon, Harry and Ginny were in stitches, holding onto each other to keep from collapsing.

"That was...so utterly...stupid!" Ginny managed to say between gasps of breath. "But I can't...stop laughing."

Harry just nodded his head and laughed some more. "I know," he finally said as their laughter died. "But you have to admit it was thrilling."

Ginny slapped his chest playfully and pulled his head down for a kiss. "Yes, Harry, it was thrilling, but I'd prefer to not get caught, next time!"

"Well," Harry remarked with a twinkle in his eye, "next time, we'll just have to hide in the Cloak the whole time."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "There will be no 'next time', Harry Potter. Pranks are one thing, lawbreaking is another. There's no limit to what I'd do with you for good reason, but I'm not going to break into other people's homes just for kicks. If we're going to skirt the law of the land and risk the wrath of my Mum, it'll be for something worthwhile.

"Oh?" he asked with a raised brow. "And just what sort of mischief would qualify as being 'something worthwhile?'"

Smirking her best 'I-know-something-you-don't' smirk, Ginny handed his still-invisible broom back to him and said, "You'll just have to wait to find out, won't you?"

Harry snorted and took her hand. "I'll look forward to it. In the meantime, I'm starved." Ginny rolled her eyes and they began their walk back to the Burrow.

*

After they arrived home and had a small lunch, Ginny was pressed into helping her mum make dinner. It was the perfect opportunity for Harry to enlist his friends' help in pranking Ginny, and, if it went off properly, his future in-laws as well.

Not wanting to walk in on Ron and Hermione in yet another compromising position, Harry gingerly opened Ron's bedroom door to find them...studying.

"But I've got a whole two weeks to write it, Hermione," Ron whinged. "And since you insisted that we study last week for seven bloody hours, I've already finished all the rest of my homework."

Hermione was nonplussed, however, and from her sitting position on the floor, said, "Watch your language, Ron. The sooner you get it finished, the sooner we can get back to more important - oh, hi, Harry!"

Harry walked fully into the room and gave a sheepish wave. "Uh, hi, guys. Holiday homework not quite done, Ron?" he teased.

"I've got proper motivation for doing it, Harry, but a bloke can only take so much, you know?" answered Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes and began packing away her things.

"Then you two might like to help me plan a little diversion tonight at dinner," Harry offered, hoping that he could count on them to support his idea.

"Oh?" Ron and Hermione chorused together. Then, alone, Hermione asked, "What have you got in mind?"

"It's like this..."

*

That evening, Harry and Ginny sat down at a fabulous array of his favourite foods. Roast lamb, meat pies, fresh green beans, mashed potatoes, and treacle pudding for dessert. All of Ginny's brothers were there, save Percy, and Harry was amused at the tentative glances they were all giving Ginny.

For her part, Ginny hadn't acknowledged a single time that she was still holding a grudge against them, but knowing Ginny like he did, he knew she wasn't about to diminish their fear of her quite yet.

The pudding was just about polished off and Harry noticed Molly's hands starting to edge towards the plates, her desire to get the dishes cleaning in the sink slowly pulling at her. It was time.

Harry caught Ron and Hermione's attention and cleared his throat. "So, Dad," he said to Arthur. "What would a pretty young witch cost nowadays?"

Mr. Weasley swallowed his last spoonful of dessert and placed the spoon onto his plate. "I'm sorry?"

"Well," Harry started to explain, "it's just that I was reading through some of Hermione's research on arranged marriages, and came across something interesting."

Ginny's foot pressed into Harry's and he quickly withdrew it. He knew that it was a warning and purposefully ignored it.

"What was that, son?" Arthur asked kindly.

"Back when arranged marriages were the rule and not the exception, the suitor often paid something to the family of the bride." Harry looked over to Hermione and she gave a curt nod. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ginny's lips pressed thin.

"The Bride Price, Mr. Weasley," Hermione said at once, adopting her answering the professor speaking voice. "Usually, the fathers of the couple worked out an arrangement like cows, horses, or other domesticated animals. When an agreement was reached, the deal was finalised and the wedding all but a formality."

Molly's eye was twitching. "What do you mean 'all but a formality'?" she asked in a chilly tone.

Arthur was looking between Harry, Hermione, and Molly, a look of strained surprise etched on his face. "Indeed," was all he managed to say.

Harry turned to face Molly. "Why, after paying the bride price, the bride moved in with the groom," he said with a neutral expression. "Anyway, since my father isn't here," Harry interjected, "I thought I should do the bargaining. What do you say?"

The entire Weasley clan stared at Harry as if he'd suddenly grown another head and a tense silence followed Harry's question. Finally, Molly threw down her serviette and pointed a finger at her husband. "I'll tell you what I think of this...this preposterous notion, Arthur Weasley; if you think you are going to barter away my daughter for a farm animal, you'll have worse than the couch for sleeping arrangements!" she said, turning on her heel as she left the room.

Mr. Weasley made a sour face and Harry indulged in a secret smile. Ginny's foot found where Harry had been hiding his shin and he stifled a yelp, still not daring to look at her. Mr. Weasley caught this interaction, however, and narrowed his eyes.

"You're not serious are you?" Bill piped in, his fang earring dangling jauntily from its lobe. "You actually want to pay to marry Ginny?"

Harry was getting good at dodging Ginny's foot and was satisfied to feel his chair jerk when she caught its leg instead of his. "Of course," Harry replied. "It's only fair that I at least try to compensate for Ginny's loss to your family."

"That makes sense," said Arthur, rubbing his chin in thought. "It's not like we're awash in marriageable daughters, you know. She's the only girl to be born a Weasley in six generations - that's got to be worth more than a cow, don't you think?"

Harry winced when he heard what sounded like a stack of dishes falling in the kitchen. "Well," Harry said, risking a look at Ginny, "she is quite a looker - and I've often thought she's the perfect girl for me - but - she snores." Ginny's face was gradually becoming redder and redder and though Harry didn't know if it was from embarrassment or anger, or some combination of the two, he thought she looked quite cute that way. "Besides, there's the whole temper thing."

"Too right," Charlie and Bill agreed at once. George abruptly shifted in his seat, leaning away from his elder siblings. "She's as volatile as a seasick Welsh Green," finished Charlie.

"Quiet, you two," Ginny said with a glare, silencing her chortling brothers. "I don't need any of your kind of help."

Fred and George were now whispering furiously to each other, their heads bowed together.

"Hmm," Arthur said, still playing along. "You are right about the temper.... Perhaps a bicycle then?"

Molly's voice rang out from the kitchen, "Absolutely outrageous! In this day and age!"

Fred took this opportunity to break into the conversation. "Maybe it's just me, but it seems that Ginny wants to get married to our esteemed business partner."

"So if anything," George continued, "we should be paying him."

"For saving us the trouble of making sure someone else doesn't steal her away," explained Fred.

Suddenly, Ginny stood. "I can't bloody marry anyone else, you sods!"

"But even if you could pick..." Fred rejoined.

"You'd pick ickle Harry-kins, wouldn't you, Gin-Gin?"

Ginny glared at her brothers, but to Harry's immense relief, her face turned bright crimson. "Yes," she muttered. "Of course I would."

"Excellent," the twins chorused and then turned to Harry. "You're in for it, don't you know? Even if you pay us off, I don't think Ginny'll be able to...compensate you properly."

"Fred Weasley!" screeched their mum from the kitchen and the sound of a pot bouncing along the floor echoed into the dining room.

When Harry looked at Ginny, he found that she was no longer red, but had a subtle, almost-wicked smile on her face. She did a slow pirouette and held out her skirt with both hands as she curtsied. "Don't you think I'm worth more than a bicycle, Harry?" she said in a delicate voice.

Harry gulped, captivated by the gleam in her eyes. He was about to lose his nerve when Ron spoke up. "Nah," he said nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair. "She's not even worth that. Mum and Dad will save loads once they marry her off." He began counting off things on his fingers. "She never helps around the house. Her hair is always clogging the drains. And clothes, too! At least the twins and I could wear hand-me-downs."

Ginny's gaze was furious, daring Harry to agree with Ron's assessment. Harry let a small grin slip onto his face. "Now that I think about it, I don't think Ginny's in the bicycle class. Notwithstanding the temper and the snoring, she's probably worth more than a cow and a bicycle. How about a new Muggle automobile?" Harry offered, turning to his future father-in-law. "I was, after all, halfway-responsible for losing yours in the first place. Maybe a Bentley."

Arthur's eyes seemed to glaze over at the prospect of tinkering with a new machine. Ginny's eyes softened and were beginning to glisten.

"No more cars!" Molly yelled as she came in from the kitchen, looming large at the end of the table, training her wand on everyone in turn. "You lot are absolutely barbaric - bargaining for Ginny like common chattel. I won't have it! Until you've come to your senses, I won't hear another word."

She was about to do something rash when Arthur calmly stood and touched his wife on the shoulder. "Molly, dear. They were just having us on - it was all in good fun."

"What?" she said, turning back to face Arthur. "What do you mean - having us on?"

Harry nodded and, reluctantly, told them about his scheming with Ron and Hermione. "I was needling Ginny," Harry admitted, trying to placate both Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. "We've been pranking our way through the family, so I thought turn-about was fair play."

Molly threw up her hands, exhaling noisily in frustration, and then grabbing Arthur by the arm. "Right then. Ginny, you deal with yours and I'll deal with mine. The rest of you troublemakers can clear the table." With that, she stomped off to the garden, with her husband dangling helplessly in tow.

Ginny stared at Harry, her face an unreadable mask, while her brothers started to pile dishes and take them into the kitchen. "Thought you'd have a go at me, did you?" she asked with one raised brow. "Thought it'd be funny to pull one over on me?"

"Yep," Harry said unapologetically. "It was working, too, right up to the end."

The last of the dishes were cleared and Harry was dimly aware of Bill, Charlie and the twins walking past them and into the living room. Ron stopped at Harry's side and, chuckling, said, "Best let her hex you first, Harry. She'll soften up after that." Then he, too, moved off to join his brothers.

Ginny's eye followed Ron until he disappeared around the corner. "So," she began again, "think you're going to get off easy?"

Harry licked his lips and pushed his chair back from the table. "I hope not."

They eyed each other for a moment before Ginny walked slowly over to where he sat. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't hex you." She leaned her bum against the table and folded her arms across her chest.

Harry swallowed. "Because I'm devilishly handsome and you know that I think you're dead sexy when you're angry. I really couldn't help myself, and deep down you know that it was affectionate."

Seeming to consider this, Ginny nodded her head and slowly drew her wand. Harry felt a moment of panic, then resigned himself to his fate and closed his eyes. Ginny muttered something unintelligible and Harry felt a spell hit his lips.

"That's four things," Ginny said as she sank onto his lap. "I never would have guessed that a day would come when I would think you talked too much." She wrapped her arms behind his head and Harry squirmed underneath her.

Harry tried to say something and although his lips moved, no sound came out - she had silenced him. Ginny smirked when he realized his predicament and said, "Hermione found out that the Underage Magic Office can't detect small spells performed with someone else's wand." She waved the holly wand in front of him and placed it on the table. "Besides, I did say you wouldn't get away with your prank," she said, drawing near to engage his lips while he was incapable of protest.

*

After being chased out of the kitchen a few minutes later by a sick-looking Ron, who clearly did not relish walking in on them in the middle of Harry's punishment, Harry and Ginny returned to the kitchen to tackle the dishes. Delighted by the after-dinner prank, Ginny wordlessly washed the plates while Harry stacked them. It was ironic that this had been the way they had began the day, and now, with the sun long set, and one less day until their pending marriage, they were at it again. It was daily drudgery, but she didn't mind. In fact, she kind of hoped that they'd repeat this for many years.

Ginny scrubbed the remains of their dinner from a plate and carefully rinsed it under the running tap, turning it slowly with her hands. She passed it to Harry, who had a distant smirk on his face.

She sighed as she thought about his prank. It wasn't terribly well-thought-out, but it was funny, and now that it was behind her, Ginny could appreciate what he had been trying to tell her in a stupid, awkward, clumsy-boy fashion. He thought she was worth more than what money could buy - that he felt deeply for her, and despite the newness of their relationship, she felt comforted by this gesture.

"I hope whomever you're dreaming of has red hair," she murmured and began scrubbing another plate.

Harry slid his clean plate into a drying rack and grimaced. "And if she had brown bushy hair?"

Ginny turned off the tap and faced him, making a gagging motion with her finger.

Still staring at the drying dishes, Harry pulled her into a hug. "No one but you has had much chance staying in my dreams anyway."

"Is that because of the hex, or because you really feel that way?" she asked, disengaging from the hug. The question came from idle curiosity, but Ginny found herself suddenly intent on hearing his answer.

Harry let out a breath and leaned into the counter with his elbows. "I used to think it was just a fluke that you were the only one I could daydream about for any length of time. I tried so hard to make things work with Cho, and then that bollixed itself up and I felt lost for a while."

"Hold on," Ginny blurted. "When was the first time you thought about me...you, know...that way?"

A shy smile crept onto Harry's face and his cheeks became slightly red. "Right after the, uh..." He ducked his head and mumbled.

"What was that?" Ginny asked, knowing it was hard for him to divulge this bit of information, but too interested to leave it alone.

The red patches on Harry's cheeks were larger when he raised his head again. "I said...after the Chamber. I had a dream about you that summer - one of those dreams, you know?" Ginny nodded her head to let him know what he meant. "After that, you popped into my head...I dunno, I guess every few weeks."

Ginny absently turned off the tap and turned around to lean against the sink. "So, you've been having dreams about me for five years?" she asked faintly. "How did you feel about me, then?"

Harry mirrored her and leaned against the counter, facing the pantry. "At first I thought I was a pervert - lusting after my best friend's little sister. I tried to bury those feelings and forget that I had ever dreamt those things about you. I was just thirteen, you know. I think most thirteen-year-old boys are pretty confused about girls when they first start to notice them. It got worse once you weren't so little any more."

This new information was startling for Ginny. He had fantasised about her for years. She shivered at the thought, and rubbed the backs of her bare arms. The real question wasn't so much how his feelings had evolved, or what he thought of her then, but what motivated him to feel the way he did now.

"What about...now?" Ginny asked tentatively, a sudden nervousness enveloping her. She had been so sure that he loved her only yesterday, but now....

"Now?" he asked. They were both staring at the pantry door, but Ginny could feel him shift closer to her. "Now..." he reached an arm around her shoulders, "when I'm with you, I feel complete, content. Washing dishes is mindless drudgery, but it's okay because I'm washing dishes with you."

Ginny leaned into him and willed him to know that she had always loved him, and that nothing would ever change that. He tightened his grip on her shoulder and circled her with his other hand. "I'm fairly certain that I love you, Ginny Weasley."