Chapter Text
She felt dizzy from the moment she woke up, slung over the bed as though she had fallen into it, which she had, in a way. She felt uncommonly hot, and she found herself blinking down at her own bra, that lay on a carpet unfamiliar to her. She frowned at it.
With great effort, because she really did feel as though she were going to throw up, she rolled over and found herself looking at the back of a dark head. She blinked stupidly.
The memories came rushing. Lips and heavy breathing and grasping hands and giggles and being rolled over in bed and gasps and amazed thoughts of, ‘well I didn’t expect that from him.’
But no, they couldn’t be real. They were ridiculous. They couldn’t be…
She sat up, the thick, pillowy duvet bunching between them as she peered over the man’s shoulder. Her stomach plummeted. She knew that face. Irritating and handsome and expressive, all dark hair and straight eyebrows with warm eyes and a large striking grin.
‘Oh my god,’ she mouthed to herself, briefly burying her face in her hands. Cringing, and wondering what on earth this meant for her career (she supposed she must find a new one now), she silently shifted back to her side of the bed, and sat on the edge. Her head was pounding. Her queasiness felt worse when she leant down to pick up her bra.
It was as she was pulling on her dress that there was movement. She glanced uneasily over her shoulder. She didn’t want to look at him completely.
‘Er… hi,’ mumbled James.
‘Hello,’ she muttered back.
‘Erm…’ he sat up, running his hand through his rumpled hair as he looked down at his knees. ‘Wow, so, er-’
‘I should go,’ she said quickly.
‘Right, yeah…’
She zipped up her dress, and stood, grabbing her heels.
‘Erm, my parents are probably downstairs,’ he said, glancing at the clock on his bedside table.
She gaped at him, horrified. ‘This is your parents’ house?’ she hissed at him.
He at least had the decency to look embarrassed. ‘Yeah…’
She closed her eyes, trying to find the right words to say. ‘Oh my God, everything about you is so immature,’ she whispered. He blushed, and she briefly wondered if that had been a low blow - she remembered now, a few months ago, him complaining that now he had been dumped again he’d have to find somewhere else to live. She supposed that rather than live alone, he’d gone back to Mum and Dad. ‘How do I get out without them seeing?’ she asked.
He shrugged helplessly. ‘Hope that they’re not up yet? Go quietly? The front door is at the bottom of the furthest stairs - don’t take the ones outside this room because they go down into the living room.’
‘Right,’ she whispered, nodding. She glanced awkwardly at him. ‘This doesn’t have to be… We can just forget about it.’
He tried for a cocky grin, but she saw his shoulders sink a little. ‘I thought it was pretty good,’ he said. ‘Not sure I want to forget.’
She stared at him for a moment, and then swallowed. ‘We’ll discuss this when I’m not hungover,’ she said eventually. She turned, then sighed a heavy, shuddering breath, and turned back to him. ‘I can’t believe I’m expected to sneak past Harry Potter,’ she said. ‘Can I at least borrow your cloak?’
He grimaced. ‘I really would say yes, but I left it at the office.’
‘Fucks sake,’ she hissed at him. ‘Fine.’
‘Bye,’ he said quietly, as she slipped out of the door.
***
Ginny hadn’t woken when Harry had crept into bed beside her last night, and the alcohol and slight ringing in his ears from the music had knocked him out for the count right the way through to morning, so that when he woke it was to an empty space where she usually lay.
Yawning and shoving his glasses on clumsily, he plodded downstairs in just a shirt and boxers, finding Ginny already at the kitchen table in her dressing gown, munching on her toast with the newspaper and a glass of orange juice in front of her.
‘Morning,’ he yawned.
‘How was the Christmas party?’ she asked.
‘Oh, you know, the usual - I left as soon as people started to get a bit drunk to save them the embarrassment of their boss seeing them like that.’
‘You’re a good boy,’ Ginny said, waving her wand as he sat. A plate of toast and a jar of jam floated over to him. She eyed him carefully as he wrestled off the lid of the jar. ‘And how was our son?’
He raised his eyebrows at her and sighed. ‘Fairly tipsy,’ he said. ‘As I was leaving, he and his friends were saying they were going to go to a Muggle club.’
‘Mmm,’ said Ginny wryly. ‘Yes, I think he might have done. Came back at half three.’
He tutted. ‘I told him to remember it was a work event.’
‘I think he brought someone home with him,’ said Ginny delicately.
Harry winced. ‘Oh, good grief, really?’
‘I definitely heard a woman giggling when he got in - thankfully I think there was a silencing charm on the door.’
‘D’you reckon she could be a Muggle?’ He looked around their kitchen. ‘We’ll need to hide a few things. Or-’ he winced again. ‘Oh, he’s been flirting with that Law Enforcement Patrol witch lately, it’s been unbearable.’
Ginny frowned. ‘He swore he wouldn’t go with anyone connected to work again, not after that researcher-’
‘The LEP is on the other side of the building, though,’ Harry pointed out. ‘He’s not forced to work with them quite as much. Though…’ he sighed heavily once again. ‘If he’s apparated some tipsy Muggle girl here, that’s going to be a fiasco to sort out with the Muggle Liaison Office.’
Ginny snorted. ‘That’ll teach him a lesson, won’t it? Explaining to his grandad why he had to break the statute of secrecy to someone he’s known for a few hours.’
Harry shrugged. ‘She might be all right with it all.’
‘Yes, but I don’t think a muggle club is the start of a blossoming romance, is it? We’ll have to end up doing a memory charm eventually, and what a nightmare that will be.’
‘Well, as he reminds us often - we’re very old now, Ginny. It might be-’ Harry broke off at the sound of a creak from the base of the stairs. Both he and Ginny automatically looked through the doorway to the hall.
The young woman was frozen there, her face scrunched up in an embarrassed grimace, holding her strappy black heels in one hand and a glitter clutch in the other. She was wearing a sequined golden dress, which looked ridiculous at half past eight in the morning.
‘Hello, Hazel,’ said Harry.
‘Hi, boss,’ she whispered, staring, mortified at the floor. Then, with the terrible, aching silence laughing around them, she continued softly along the creaking floor to the front door, treading as lightly as though they still hadn’t spotted her.
Harry turned slowly back to Ginny, still holding his toast in his hand.
‘How awkward is it?’ Ginny asked.
‘They share a desk.’ He bit back a smile. ‘I’m conducting her appraisal in the new year.’
‘Well,’ said Ginny briskly. ‘Let’s hope it works out then, shall we?’