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the-al-chemist · 6 months

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Jitters

So, it’s almost a week late, but I was told that Weasley Week is more about vibes than punctuality. Here’s the final contribution, and this one’s all about Ginny. Thank you @thethreebroomsticksfic for organising such a fun event!

Warnings: mentions of past trauma.

September 2003

Ginny Weasley prided herself on being fiercely independent. Being the only girl in a family of boys, she had learnt to take care of herself and others in a way that her brothers had never been encouraged to. And being the youngest, she had watched each of her older siblings leave home, go to school, and embark on careers, leaving her behind, a little more alone every time.

There was, of course, one time she had allowed herself to become truly vulnerable, to rely on someone else. It had backfired terribly. Ginny had been eleven years old when she had first opened Tom Riddle’s diary. She had been eleven years old when she had stopped trusting anyone, even herself.

That trust had come back, bit by bit. She had made friends, eventually. She had gone on dates, had been heartbroken, had battled, had grieved. She had carved out a career for herself, made a name for herself, had finally gotten to know herself and trust herself again.

So why, on what should have been the happiest day of her life, was she doubting herself?

She loved Harry. She had always loved Harry, even when her definition of love had been a schoolgirl’s infatuation. He made her happy, understood her in a way few others did, and loved her in spite of that. When he had asked her to marry him, her answer had come as swift and as sure as she was on a broomstick.

Right now, she was less sure. Which was unfortunate, because right now, there were only minutes to go before she was supposed to walk down the aisle and marry the wizard.

In moments like this, Ginny preferred to be alone. Declining her bridesmaids’ offers to help her with her dress, she backed out of the vestry and headed for the bathroom, where she stood facing a mirror and holding on to the edges of a sink. Her head was spinning, her heart racing, and her stomach churning. She felt unbearably hot, though the room was cold. She took several breaths, annoyed by how shallow each one was, and found that this was useless. In a final desperate attempt to cool herself down, she turned on the tap and let the water run over her hands before splashing it onto her face.

That was a mistake. Now she had yet another thing to worry about. Her make-up, which she had painstakingly spent the morning doing — she hadn’t permitted anyone else to do it for her — was now entirely ruined. And, even worse, she had left all of her belongings back at the Burrow, not thinking that she would need them over the course of the ceremony. All she could do was try to clean up the mess she had made of her own face.

As she used her wand to remove the smudges from her cheeks, a toilet flushed behind her and a beautiful woman and small girl, both with the same shade of silvery-blonde hair, emerged from a cubicle. Ginny forced a smile as the woman helped the little girl to wash her hands in another of the sinks. Her niece looked particularly cute in her bridesmaid dress, but there was no one she wanted to speak to less at this moment in time than her sister-in-law.

Fleur Delacour-Weasley eyed Ginny over the top of her daughter's blonde head for a few moments before telling her, “I ‘ave makeup in my bag, if you would like some.”

Ginny couldn’t see that she had much choice but to take Fleur up on her offer, so she nodded. Her sister-in-law passed her a dainty clutch bag, which on opening, Ginny found to be far bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside.

“Va chercher ton grand-père, Victoire.” Fleur placed one hand on the back of her daughter’s head and stroked her hair gently as she spoke, and Ginny’s niece skipped out of the bathroom with her clean hands. Ginny expected Fleur to follow Victoire, but instead she turned back towards her and asked, “Would you like some ‘elp with zat?”

“I can do it myself, thanks,” Ginny replied, but her hands were shaking so badly that she was struggling to do anything by herself.

Fleur stood stock still, watching her as she tried and failed to wield mascara with any form of precision. Ginny was growing increasingly impatient and frustrated with herself, with Fleur, with everything. Eventually, she held out Fleur’s bag at arm length and snapped:

“Fine, you do it then, if you think you can do better than me!” Her sister-in-law blinked at her slowly, her lips pursed, and Ginny sighed. “I mean, yes, I’d like some help. Please can you help me?”

Her tone hadn’t been friendly in the slightest. Fleur shrugged and took back her bag.

“Close your eyes,” she told Ginny, who did as she instructed. A soft brush swept over Ginny’s cheeks, and Fleur’s voice spoke to her. “Victoire ‘as freckles like you now. ‘Ave you noticed?”

“No.”

“Zey look quite cute, I zink. A proper Weasley, no? It is a shame zat I’m covering yours up.”

“Yeah, well.” Ginny swallowed. “I’m not going to be a Weasley for much longer. Might as well get rid of the freckles while I’m at it.”

She sounded far more bitter than she intended. She could not see Fleur’s face, but by the way her sister-in-law continued to work on her face, she supposed that she might not have noticed.

“And ‘ow are you feeling about today?”

“Great, obviously. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because it is a big change,” Fleur said. “And because you are in ‘ere splashing water on your face when you should be about to walk down the aisle.” Ginny opened her mouth to argue, but before she could say anything, Fleur instructed, “Open your eyes and look up at the ceiling.”

It was hard to focus her eyes. Ginny could almost feel them filling with tears as Fleur applied mascara to her lashes.

“How did you feel on your wedding day?” Ginny asked Fleur, trying her hardest not to either cry or blink.

“Probably the same as you. ‘Appy, but also a little nervous.”

Ginny looked down from the ceiling and at her sister-in-law. “Really?”

“Yes. I wanted ze day to be perfect, and zere was a war going on, so…”

“So, you weren’t nervous about actually getting married? You didn’t have any… second thoughts or anything?”

Fleur seemed to consider Ginny’s question. When she answered, she did so with a small and almost secretive looking smile:

“Yes.”

“You did?” Ginny was relieved, for some reason. “What about?”

“What are your second thoughts about?” Fleur asked. Ginny sighed.

“I dunno, I just… I’ve worked really hard to get to where I am, Quidditch-wise. I’m worried that once I’m married, no one will care that I’ve done that, they’ll just think of me as Harry’s wife and not my own person, because I won’t be, will I? I’ll be Mrs Potter, not Ginny Weasley, not… Not me.”

Ginny cast a look at herself in the mirror. She never usually wore white, it was too easily dirtied, and she couldn’t remember the last time her hair had been restrained in such an intricate up-do. Even her freckles had been covered with makeup. She scowled at her own reflection.

“I already don’t look like me,” she muttered. “What’s to stop me from just slowly disappearing altogether?”

“I cannot imagine zat will ever ‘appen.”

“It almost did, once,” said Ginny. Fleur was looking at her, and she avoided meeting her eye. “Back when I was younger, that year… That diary, his diary… I put so much of myself into it, I poured myself into it, and before I knew it, there was almost none of me left. I was nearly lost forever, and I…” Her voice tailed off. “I don’t want to lose myself, not ever, not to anyone or for anything.”

Fleur put one hand to Ginny’s hair. For a moment, Ginny thought she might stroke it, the way she had Victoire’s, but instead, she reached back and undid one of the clips. A strand of Ginny’s hair came loose.

“I can see zis,” Fleur said, reaching for another hairclip, “but I don’t zink it is something you need to worry about. Zat diary, it was evil. It wanted you to lose yourself. ‘Arry would never want zat for you, ‘e just wants you, as you are. It is all ‘e ever wanted.”

Ginny took a deep breath. Yet more locks of her hair tumbled around her shoulders as more clips were removed, and Fleur continued:

“Getting married, it does not mean zat you are losing yourself. You are gaining another piece for yourself, making a family zat is yours and someone else’s. It means you ‘ave to share, but you must be used to sharing, with all those brothers you ‘ave.” She chuckled softly, and Ginny felt her own lips twitch. It was true, she was used to sharing. “The only piece of yourself you are giving up is your name, which you don’t ‘ave to do. And zat was ever really your name, either. It is all your family’s name, no? And even if you don’t have zeir name, you are not going to lose your family. Especially your family. You are all very stubborn.”

In spite of everything, in spite of herself, Ginny laughed out loud. Fleur smiled triumphantly and nodded her head at the mirror.

“See? You look more like yourself now.”

Fleur was right. Ginny’s hair was now almost entirely loose, a mane of red curls framing her face. Her freckles were still invisible, but her laugh had caused her cheeks to dimple and her brown eyes to shine with mirth.

Thinking about it, Fleur was right about a lot of things. Harry was not Tom Riddle. He had nothing of Tom Riddle about him, not anymore. And even when he had, he had never once allowed it to consume him, not the way the diary had consumed her. He had never wanted anything from Ginny, except for her to be… well, Ginny. Not Ginny Weasley, not Ginny Potter, just Ginny. In all the time she had been making a name for herself, Harry had accepted her and loved her for herself.

And she loved him. Had accepted him, the way her family had accepted him as one of their own. He might not have their name, but he was still a part of them. She would still be a part of them, even if she didn’t have their name anymore. She wouldn’t lose them.

Harry had lost his family. All he had left of them was their name, the one that was written on a pair of tombstones in the graveyard behind the church in which she stood, where he was standing at the altar waiting for her. Waiting to begin their life together, to share that life together.

There was a knock on the bathroom door, and Ginny’s father’s voice sounded from the other side of it.

“It’s eleven, Ginny. Are you ready?”

Ginny glanced at Fleur, and again at the bathroom mirror, where her own face stared back at her, defiant and stubborn and entirely her own.

“I’m ready.”

#weasley week #ttb #ginny weasley #fleur delacour #weasley family #hinny wedding

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theazkabandreamer · 1 year

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Harry being quite an awkward dancer decides to get some lessons in order to help him dance with Ginny at their upcomming wedding. It all goes to pot and Harry is none the wiser when it comes to learning how to dance, but Ginny doesn’t care about that.

She likes Harry for being Harry and they have a great time dancing at their wedding along with three-year-old page boy Teddy Lupin whilst Best Man Ron is crowd surfing with Neville.

#Hinny #Harry Potter #Ginny Weasley #Hinny Wedding #Story Prompt #If you want

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ginevraweasley11881 · 1 year

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Hinnyfest

15. “Who says we can’t get married now?”

Harry noticed Ginny walking back to the burrow her cheeks as red as her hair which flew back behind her. He took the chance and sprinted, jumped and landed. Ginny let out a shriek which reminded him of the stolen hours at Hogwarts. “God you idiot!”, Ginny exclaimed with her being in her left hand and Harry’s in her right. Harry just chuckled in response. It was Christmas Eve, Ginny had just showered and Harry was sat in her room still chuckling about what had just happened. Ginny walked in wrapped in a towel complaining about how cold it was. Instantly, hart wrapped himself around her like a human blanket. Ginny giggled and buried her head in his chest. “I love you”, Harry murmured in between the snuggling. His mouth slowly made its way up her neck to her lips, when Ginny said, “ I wish we could seal our live sober, mum says you can’t stay in this room until we get married”. “ Who says we can’t get married now?”, Harry said suddenly really excited. “Ok” Ginny Google, “ Let’s go”, she stood up, through a dress on and grabbed Harry’s hand when they ran outside into the winter wonderland.

#hinny fanfic #hinny #hinnyfest #hinny fandom #hinny wedding #ginny potter #harry x ginny #ginny weasley #ginevra weasley #harry potter #harry and ginny #hogwarts

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insomniaruler · 2 years

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I want more golden trio content listen I adore the Marauders. but what’s more of a fuck you to the TERF is to take her canon characters and trans their genders, make them diverse, disabled, give soft headcanons to, and let rely on each other

Give me

Jewish/Desi Harry

Islamic Ron

Black Hermione

Dyslexic Ron

Hermione with chronic pain from Bellatrix

Autistic Harry

Trans Hermione

And he/they Demisexual Ron

walking Bisexual disaster Harry

Hermione enchanting a mug to always keep tea warm

Harry sneaking out and getting sweets for parties

Ron knitting gifts for his friends/family

Hermione being Harry’s Best Woman because Ron was in Ginny’s party

Hermione breaking down after Malfoy Manner and getting comforted by her chosen brothers

The Trio being roommates post war and comforting each other after nightmares

There is so much we could make to say fuck you to The TERF.

Anyway I adore Platonic Soulmates Ron, Harry and Hermione

#golden trio headcanons #ron weasley #Hermione Granger #Harry Potter #fuck jkr #post second wizarding war #second wizarding war #hinny wedding #ron Harry and Hermione are platonic soulmates

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alwayshinny · 10 days

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Hinny 📸

AU, where Blackinnon raises Harry - Sirius bought Harry a leather jacket for his birthday, and when Ginny's birthday came along, Harry insisted he had to gift her a leather jacket because she loved his so much… he also got her a little heart necklace. Ginny was ecstatic when she opened her present and hugged Harry tightly, tackling him to the ground and kissing his cheek, leaving him stunned and blushing with a goofy look on his face. Sirius and Marlene knew that day their godson was goner, and James's claim about Potter having a thing for redheads was 💯 true. It was the same look James had when Lily kissed him for the first time. Right after tackling Harry, Ginny gave her sunglasses to Arthur to transform into frames like Harry’s while she hurried inside to put on Ron's black t-shirt, which Molly shortened to fit her better. She insisted they had to match, and she asked Sirius to take a picture of them. Sirius had a lump in his throat when he took this photo because, just like James used to stare at Lily instead of the camera, Harry was doing the exact same thing with Ginny. It took Marlene five tries to get Harry to look at the camera, and Ginny, who kept giggling at the way Harry was looking at her with a dopey smile.

#my son was entranced #from that day on he only had eyes for her #little ginny casually told her parents over dinner how she wanted her wedding #when they asked her who the groom was she gave them a exasperated look with her hands on her hips and said... Harry obviously!#after that it was always when harry/ginny and I get married #ginny x harry #harry x ginny #harry potter #ginny weasley #hinny #harry potter ai #ai generated

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ginnyw-potter · 3 months

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Lousy wedding Written for @hinnymicrofic, January prompt 18: Lousy

“That was a lousy wedding,” Ginny let out, taking her heels off.

“Agreed. If you don’t want to have a big wedding, don’t have a big wedding!” He shook his head, loosening his bowtie. “And who doesn’t have some music?” He shook his head warily. “When we get married, we are going to have a fun wedding!”

He pulled the bowtie off and turned back to Ginny, who was smiling brightly at him.

He paused what he was doing. “What?”

“I didn’t know we had marriage plans,” she said softly, her arms crossed as she smiled.

“Of course,” he said lightly. He put his and her shoes in the cabinet and closed it and undid the top button of his shirt. “We live together, we love each other… that’s the plan isn’t it?” He walked into the living room and sat down.

Ginny followed him in, undoing her hair so it cascaded down. She look a bit tearful.

“Ginny, what’s going on?”

She chewed her lip for a moment. “I didn’t know you wanted that.”

He stood back up and was in front of her in seconds. He cupped her face. “Do I not tell you enough that I love you?”

“No…” she said.

“Or is there a part of living together and having the time of our lives that made it seem like I didn’t…” he teased lightly.

She closed her eyes, smiling. “That’s not it.” She met his eyes. “You can live together and not want to get married and you said it without hesitation, it took me by surprise.”

“Well, do you want to marry me—Wait no, I don’t mean it like that.” He breathed out. “Ginny Weasley, you absolute fool. Of course I want to marry you and if that’s not what you want then you are free to go.”

He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He kissed her.

“So a fun wedding?” she replied.

“Yes!” he told her. “Although if your family is involved it’s difficult not to have a ‘fun’ wedding to start with.”

#hinny #hinnymicrofic #fic #wedding #microfic

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ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey · 11 months

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Blue

@hinnymicrofic, something blue <3

The sun broke through the cloud cover, as though peering through a crack in the door, sending streaming light over the whitewashed brick.

“Are you quite sure this is how you want to do it, dear?” Mum asked, biting her lip. “Maybe you and Harry should give it a bit more thought, you might wish later on that you’d done something bigger–”

“We’re sure,” Ginny replied firmly. “Stop asking me that.”

“Alright, dear, but I think that it might be nice if–”

“Molly,” Dad interrupted, placing a gentle hand on Mum’s elbow. “Get on board.”

Mum squeezed Dad’s fingers. “Well, of course I’m very happy, I just–”

She gazed wistfully at the old blacksmith’s shop, tucked prettily amongst the flowers in the rolling green hills of Gretna Green. “It is quite nice,” she admitted.

Ginny smiled, and turned at the sound of the opening door.

Hermione approached them, having exited the little building. “Everything’s ready inside,” she informed them, handing Ginny a simple bouquet of white flowers. “From the garden.”

Mum heaved a great sniffle beside her, and then shrieked, “I nearly forgot!”

She hastily began removing her earrings. Ginny exchanged a befuddled look with her Dad, before Mum urged them into Ginny’s hands.

She glanced down at them and back up at her mother, entirely confused. “Er… I’ve got earrings on, Mum.”

“Wear those,” Mum insisted. “Something borrowed, and something blue.”

Ginny looked back down and found that indeed, the earrings were small, daintily set sapphires, glinting prettily in the persistent sun.

Ginny was not sure why these earrings, of all things, should impress upon her the enormity of the day, but she found herself unable to speak around the sudden lump in her throat. Wordlessly, she removed the simple pearls from her ears and replaced them with the sapphires.

“Ready?” Arthur asked her gently, after she’d handed her pearls to Hermione for safekeeping.

Ginny didn’t remember the short walk up to the building, following Hermione in her pretty green dress.

She remembered only the moment he turned to look at her when she walked in the door, standing next to Ron by the simple altar they’d conjured. Her breath hitched in her throat as she met his intense green gaze, his normally stoic expression transformed by raw emotion, staring at her like she was the sun.

Ginny blinked back tears as she and Harry exchanged a wordless understanding that she’d only ever found with him, some mutual bone-deep admiration and wonder that defied language. A wave of emotion swelled in her chest and crashed powerfully against the shore of her ribcage, drawn in by his gravitational pull.

After the years of pining, the sunlit afternoons swallowed by war, the months of loneliness and yearning, the grief and loss, they’d made it here – whole, hearts hammering, just two people trembling with type of lovely, universal anticipation that inevitably preceded marrying a once-in-a-lifetime love.

“Hi,” she said when she reached him.

He choked out something resembling a laugh, his eyes wet. “Hi.”

#hinny microfic #canon compliant #it's wedding season innit #hinny fluff

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turanga4 · 1 year

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For @hinnymicrofic Prompt 10: Flower

Read on ao3 or above and below the cut. Bit more than 500 words.

“The pink just won’t work, not with your complexion.” Fleur was clicking her tongue. Ginny wore a dangerous look that he hadn’t seen in weeks: Harry watched her snatch the notebook and spin out of the room.

If he knocked, she wouldn’t answer. She wouldn’t know it was him. He pushed the door open just a little, an offering. He’d counted to nine when she opened the rest.

Harry gestured to the notebook, still held close to her chest.

“Can I see?”

Ginny frowned. “I thought we agreed that you’d let us take care of it.”

“I thought you agreed to let Fleur take care of most of it.”

She shook her head. “Not my corsage. Not your boutonniere.”

“What even is that? Why does it matter?”

Her eyes flashed again: Harry took one step back. “I just mean…you seemed angry, there. Is it worth that?”

“The groom’s parents ought to walk with him, Harry. If my dad, then your mum. That’s the part that matters.” Ginny sat on her bed and patted the space beside her. Harry sat down.

She flipped the cream-colored pages and laid the book open. At the top of one page, the lapel of his jacket. Below, a closer drawing of the flowers to be pinned.

One simple white lily on a bed of pink carnations.

“Your mother was born in January,” she said quietly. “January…it’s carnations. But that’s not all they mean.”

A swelling in his throat as he leaned closer to her. “What else?”

“All of them mean memory. But the pink ones mean…her. The way that a mother loves her child. To death, and beyond it. I want you to wear this, when you walk down the aisle.”

Her expression shifted to almost a smirk. “And Auntie sodding Muriel will leave us alone about it, if what’s on your suit matches what’s on my arm.”

Her chest was puffed out beneath the Harpies t-shirt, brown eyes blazing. It had taken quite a while for the love he knew she felt for him to take the form of tenderness, to release that edge of anger. The way she had snatched away the notebook in the living room, the glare she’d shot at Fleur. The rows she’d had on his behalf, her small fist shaking at Malfoy as she’d barked, “leave him alone!” His mother’s love, too, had been that fierce, by necessity. The softer things still felt a bit like someone else’s life.

More comfortable, out loud at least, to meet her where she was. “Auntie sodding Muriel would never stand a chance.” He paused, passing one finger lightly over the open page, reaching then for the upward corner with a question in his eyes. She nodded and carefully, he turned to the page right before.

A corsage, she had called it. Had Luna drawn all of them? The same flowers gathered, wrapped around a freckled wrist.

Tears pricked in his eyes and he blinked them away, before setting down the notebook like it was a sleeping child. He reached for her arm and stroked it, then bent his lips to press them where the flowers would be placed.

I get it, Auntie Muriel. I never stood one, either.

#harry potter fan fiction #harry x ginny #hinny microfic #pre-wedding flangst #thanks thanks greenhouse three for excellent beta!

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sophie-hatter-jenkins · 29 days

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A collection of Hinny-centric drabbles, microfics and one-shots written for the Ginny Lovers Discord server 5-Year Ginnversary Bingo game.

Chapter 11 - Pots and Kettles

Harry and Ginny get a taste of their own medicine at Hannah and Neville's wedding.

Rating - Teen and upwards

Read on AO3 from the beginning or continue below the cut for the latest chapter (1376 words)

“Okay! Two bottles of beer, and two glasses of white wine!” Ron put the tray down on the table, then frowned. “Where’s Ginny gone?”

“She went to the loo,” Harry told him, helping himself to one of the beers. “She won’t be long.”

“Hopefully she won’t get as lost as I did,” commented Hermione, as she sipped her wine. “This place is like a rabbit warren, it’s really easy to take a wrong turn. Beautiful for a wedding, though.”

Harry had to agree. He’d been surprised when Neville told him that Hannah had set her heart on getting married at a Muggle castle, but apparently she’d grown up close by, and had always loved it. They’d been able to arrange to hire the place with no Muggle staff present (Harry still strongly suspected a Confundus charm might have been involved, despite Neville’s perfectly innocent expression as he insisted otherwise), and even an inveterate realist like Harry could see how romantic the setting was, with the ancient castle looking out over perfectly manicured lawns and rose gardens.

The ceremony itself had been held in a small chapel on the grounds, then the assembled guests had decamped to a large hall inside the main building for a banquet. Now, as day turned to night, the evening’s festivities were well underway. The furniture had been pushed aside to make space for a dancefloor, and Harry, Ron and Hermione huddled around a table close to the bar, chatting easily.

Eventually, Harry spotted Ginny making her way back across the room. He couldn’t help but admire the way her peacock blue dress set off her coppery hair and skimmed her slender figure, but as she drew closer, he realised she looked rather shaken. She dropped heavily into the chair next to him, grabbed the remaining wine glass from the tray and downed half of it in several long gulps.

“Woah there, Gin!” Harry put his hand on her arm. “Everything okay? What happened?”

“I am mentally scarred, that’s what happened,” she announced, waving her hand dramatically. “I got a bit turned around on my way back, opened a door that I thought led to the main hallway and… well, Neville and Hannah were in there. They were… Oh, Merlin, they were… consummating the marriage!”

It took Harry a moment to process what she’d just told him. “You just walked in on Neville and Hannah having sex?” he asked, incredulous.

Ginny rolled her eyes at her husband. “Yes, Harry, that is the traditional meaning of the term ‘consummating the marriage’.”

Harry clapped his hand over his mouth, then allowed it to slide down to his chin. “Oh, Merlin - how embarrassing!”

“I know!” breathed Ginny, eyes wide. “I mean, I don’t know how I’m even going to look either one of them in the face ever again.”

An awful thought occurred to Harry. “Did they see you?”

Ginny considered it for a moment. “I… I don’t think so. They seemed quite… wrapped up in the moment.”

“What did you do?” he asked, feeling her mortification radiating off her.

“I just sort of squeaked and closed the door again.” She shook her head slightly, as if trying the shake off the memory.

“I wonder why they didn’t lock it?”

“That’s what I thought!” exclaimed Ginny. “A locking charm would have taken literally seconds. I mean, anyone could have walked in!”

Harry let out a brief huff of amusement. “Anyone did!”

“And it wasn’t even the bridal suite,” Ginny told him, dropping her voice to a more conspiratorial tone. “It was some sort of laundry room, not private at all.”

Just then, there was a loud snort from the other side of the table. Harry looked up and saw that both Ron and Hermione were struggling to contain their amusement. His best friends saw him looking and when they met each other’s eyes, neither one of them could hold it in any longer, each dissolving into fits of laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Harry asked them, puzzled.

The pair of them only seemed to find that even more hilarious. Ron was laughing so hard he was gasping for breath and Hermione actually had tears running down her cheeks.

It took Ron a few moments to compose himself sufficiently to answer. “You two! Honestly, can you even hear yourselves?”

“Yes,” chimed Hermione, fishing a tissue out of her handbag and dabbing at her eyes. “Of all the people to be scandalised about catching someone in flagrante delicto in an inappropriate location!”

Harry looked at Ginny, and saw that she looked equally confused. Clearly there was something they were both missing. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Harry ventured, cautiously.

Ron looked at Harry as though he had two heads. “You’re kidding?”

Harry shrugged and shook his head. Ron and Hermione exchanged another glance

“Um,” began Hermione, cautiously. “it’s just that… Well, it’s usually you, isn’t it?”

“Us?” choked Ginny.

“Yeah,” added Ron. “I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve walked into a room and seen something I really shouldn’t have.”

“But… we don’t! I mean, we’re not…” spluttered Harry.

“Harry,” said Hermione, in a tone that Harry thought she might use with a five year old. “You do. And you are.”

“Come on, mate,” added Ron. “Remember that year when we were all living at Grimmauld? I walked in on you more than once in the drawing room, you literally never remembered to lock the bathroom door, and I lost count of the number of times I had to make a sharp exit from the kitchen.”

“And that’s only the times when we were at home!” Hermione reminded him. “You’re lucky it was me that walked into the pantry at the Burrow that time and not Molly! Luna threatened to draw a diagram of what she saw in the loo at the Leaky Cauldron at the DA reunion last year, and don’t think we didn’t all know what you were up to when you disappeared at George and Angelina’s wedding!”

Harry felt Ginny’s hand squeeze his under the table. He turned his head to look at her and saw that she had turned quite an alarming shade of pink, and was quite certain that he probably looked much the same.

Mercifully, Harry was saved from further mortification by the tinkling of a spoon against a glass. The room fell silent, as Hannah’s father announced that the Bride and Groom were about to cut the cake.

“They’ve finished then,” smirked Ron, earning him an elbow in the ribs from Hermione.

Neville led his new wife onto the dancefloor, where a large, three tiered wedding cake had been set up on a trolley. Instead of a knife, someone handed Neville a sword, much to the amusement of the guests.

Hermione grabbed Ron’s hand and hauled him to his feet. “Come on! I want to get a better view!”

Harry turned to Ginny and gestured towards the dancefloor. “Do you want to follow them?”

Ginny shuddered. “I love Nev and Hannah to bits, but right now, all I can think about is the bits of them I’ve now seen and really wish I hadn’t.”

They sat together in silence for a few moments. “Are we really that bad?” Ginny asked him

Harry shrugged. “I didn’t think so. But you have to admit, Ron and Hermione put together a pretty damning case.”

Ginny nodded. “We do seem to have acquired something of a reputation, don’t we?” After a few more beats of silence, Harry felt Ginny’s hand leave his, and meander slowly up his thigh. He tilted his head to look down at her and saw a truly wicked glint in her eyes. “I can’t help but think it would be a real shame not to live up to it.”

Across the room, there was a cheer as Neville and Hannah skewered the cake with the sword. It was swiftly whisked away to be cut into portions, and once the floor was clear, the newlyweds took up their positions for the first dance.

Harry’s lips twitched. The other guests were all focused on the happy couple. Surely no one would notice if they slipped away for a little while? “Did I hear you mention a laundry room?”

#harry potter #ginny weasley #hinny #harry x ginny #harry potter fanfiction #ginniversary bingo #hermione granger #ron weasley #wedding shenanigans

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enigmaticemperor · 1 year

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Well, this is a mess, I know. Probably doesn't make sense but it's cute....?

Written for @hinnyfest

Rated M for Hinny wanting to have 'them' time.

#7 Getting caught in the act

It was mortifying.

Or it should have been if Ginny wasn’t so bloody annoyed.

Harry hastily fixed his glasses, as she slipped on her shirt, and turned to look at her. “Maybe - ”

“No.”

“What? I didn’t say anything,” he smiled.

“They aren’t right. Ughh…I swear I’ll kill George the moment I go downstairs. Bats will be the least of worries once I’m through with him.” Her face was flushed red and her mouth was in that adorable pout that made Harry want to forget and make her forget that George had just walked in on them, though he might lock the door this time.

“Did you see the look on his face as he closed the door?” She raged. “He looked so bloody pleased with himself!”

George did have a self-satisfied smirk on his face, Harry noted, but he was more focused on making sure his clothes didn’t have any Wheezes products on them. He really didn’t want to attend his own wedding looking like human confetti.

“I know we made a bet, and it’s been a month and it’s so fucking hard, Harry,” she said, waving her hands in the air like a madwoman. “And we haven’t even had a day to ourselves! It’s either Mum with more wedding plans or Ron wanting to take you out to pick out the best man and groomsmen suits. Seriously, Harry, how does it take you three weeks to pick out suits? Demelza and I had my wedding dress and the Maid of Honour and bridesmaids' dresses ready last week!”

Harry knew Ron dragged out the selections on purpose to prevent them from finding enough time together, and while he wasn’t entirely on board, he wasn’t going to tell his fiancée that.

“If it’s any consolation, I haven’t been particularly happy about it either,” Harry said, reaching a hand out to her, which she accepted, and he pulled her down to sit on her childhood bed, next to him.

She calmed down immediately, wrapping her arms around his middle as he wrapped his around her shoulders, and pressed a kiss to her hairline.

“Ready to go down and face the music now?”

Ginny got a mischievous glint in her eyes as she looked up to meet his. “Oh, there will be music, alright.”

She looked around for her wand, before narrowing her eyes at him.

“You play dirty, Harry.”

“I’d like all my groomsmen to maintain all their body parts intact on the eve of the wedding,” he smirked.

Harry laughed as she turned on her big chocolate eyes at him and pouted. “That’s not going to work, Gin.”

She sighed and settled her head back on his shoulder. “What about after the wedding?”

“After the honeymoon.”

“I can live with that,” she said as she reached up to kiss him.

#hinnyfest #hinny #harry potter #ginny weasley #ginny potter #before the wedding #hinny drabble #it's a mess #i know #potter #harry potter series #rated m i guess #also demelza is maid of honor in my headcanon #ginny x harry #harry x ginny

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the-al-chemist · 7 months

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On This Wild Night — Part One

Notes: And here it is, the Hinny Wedding WIP. In Part 1 of 5, it’s time to attend the ceremony, but two guests are running a little late. At dinner, the Weasley brothers hatch a fun plan, and Artemis plans on having a little fun herself… A warning for mild language and some sexual references.

Masterlist — Next

Charlie perched on the arm of a sofa, tapping one foot on the ground impatiently. As the door opened, he stood up, but he was disappointed to see that the person entering the room wasn’t a person at all, but a strawberry-blonde cat, whose fur was grey around the face. Charlie sighed.

“What is taking so long?” he asked, his question directed to himself as much as the cat. He looked at his watch, shook his head, and walked into the hallway to call up the stairs, “Artemis! We are going to be late!”

“What’s the time?” a woman’s voice called back to him.

“It’s half past ten!”

“That’s fine! It doesn’t start until eleven and it only takes a second to Apparate.”

Charlie made his way up the stairs. At the top, he leant against the wall opposite the bathroom, from which he could hear the sound of Artemis rummaging through a bag.

“Artie, I don’t want to rush you, but I was meant to be there over ten minutes ago,” he said. “I’m an usher, remember?”

“I know, I know,” Artemis’ voice said on the other side of the door. “Stop nagging me, you sound like your mother.”

It was hard to argue with that, but time was getting on. Charlie glanced at his watch once more.

“Alright, are you nearly done, or should I just go on without—”

He didn’t finish his sentence. The bathroom door swung open to reveal a bare-footed woman with hazel eyes and dark hair that had been pulled back from her face into an artfully messy bun. His eyes swept her five foot tall frame, taking in the way the wine-coloured fabric of her dress skimmed her hips, and clung to her chest. The dress was low-cut, leaving Artemis’ shoulders and collarbone exposed.

“I’m done,” she said, holding her arms out from her sides to demonstrate.

“Hm,” was the only response Charlie was able to give.

“Charlie?”

“Hm?”

“My eyes are up here, you know.”

At Artemis’ words, Charlie quickly looked up at her face. She shook her head at him, before pulling her wand out of the clutch bag she held — until that moment, he hadn’t even noticed that she was holding a bag — and summoned a pair of very high-heeled shoes from the attic.

“Sorry. I like your dress,” he told her.

“Sure, that’s what it was,” she muttered, slipping the shoes onto her feet.

“Have you got the card and present?”

Artemis peered into the clutch bag, before summoning those and putting them in there, too.

“I have now,” she said brightly. “Charlie.”

“What?”

“Will you stop looking at them?”

“Sorry, I just… Well, I physically can’t.” He half-laughed, and tilted his head to one side. “Have they always been that big?”

“No, I’m just wearing a bra.”

“Do you not normally wear a bra?”

“I do,” Artemis nodded, “but this is a proper bra. Does this to them.”

She put her hands in front of her chest, pushed them towards each other, then lifted them up slightly. Charlie nodded sagely.

“I see. Very impressive.”

Artemis frowned at him before looking downwards.

“Is it too much?” she asked. “Is it maybe just a bit too booby?”

“Maybe,” Charlie said, standing up straight and stepping towards her, his face mock-solemn. “You know, I think I might need a closer look in order to tell.”

“Funny.” Artemis pulled a face, but she walked towards him anyway. Charlie placed his hands on her elbows and looked down at her, trying to keep his face straight.

“No,” he said, after a few moments. “I’d say it’s just booby enough. Exactly the right amount of booby.”

“You would say that.”

Artemis didn’t look convinced, and Charlie lifted her elbows so that her arms were on his shoulders. He dropped his hands to hold onto her waist and looked her in the eye.

“Seriously, though. You look beautiful. Really beautiful.”

The expression of amused annoyance disappeared from Artemis’ face, and a small smile began to play on her lips.

“So do you,” she told him, and he kissed her on the forehead.

He would have stopped there, but Artemis’ hands had made their way into his hair, and before he could stop her — although, he was hardly going to stop her — she had brought his face to hers. The feeling of her lips on his ruined his resolve, and as they kissed his hands moved from her waist to her lower back, down to her bum and back up to just below her shoulder blades, where the fabric of the dress met her skin and he could feel the fastenings between his fingertips…

“Charlie,” Artemis whispered against his lips. He hummed back to her. “Shouldn’t you be ushing at the moment?”

In an instant, Charlie removed his fingers from Artemis’ dress.

“Shit. Yes, yes I am,” he said. “Yeah, we really don’t have time for this right now.”

Artemis laughed. She licked her thumb and used it to wipe her lipstick from his lips.

“Shame. Maybe later,” she said, and raised her eyebrows.

“Definitely later.”

“I’ll hold you to that. Who’s Apparating?”

“You can,” replied Charlie. “It’s your fault that we’re running late, after all.”

Artemis sighed, but she held out her arm anyway. Charlie linked his own with it, intertwining his fingers with hers. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, before taking one final look down the front of her dress. He felt Artemis nudge him with her elbow.

“Eyes up, Weasley.”

Charlie snapped his head up, and the two of them disappeared with a loud crack.

Artemis took a seat on the left side of the church, in the second pew from the front of the chapel. While Charlie greeted various distant relatives and family friends with two of his younger brothers, she took a look around the room, making note of who she did and didn’t recognise.

Milling around the chapel were a few vaguely familiar faces she recognised from other events, and some old acquaintances and members of the staff from her school, several Quidditch players, and her old friend Kingsley, who waved to her from across the chapel. At the altar, the youngest Weasley brother, Ron, was engaged in a whispered conversation with his best friend Harry, who was looking incredibly nervous.

One of the most familiar faces of all approached Artemis and she stood up to greet the newcomer. He was tall and slim, with long hair the same shade of red as Charlie’s pulled back into a ponytail. He had a heavily scarred face, a flower pinned to his lapel, and a baby strapped to his chest.

“Aren’t you meant to be on usher duty, not dad duty?” Artemis asked Bill Weasley, who hugged her with the arm furthest away from the baby.

“Well, I did have to do two people’s worth of work for the first fifteen minutes,” replied Bill, with a pointed look.

“Sorry. We lost track of time.”

Bill almost shuddered at Artemis’ words.

“Spare me the details,” he muttered. “Anyway, Fleur’s gone to make sure Victoire’s ready to be a flower girl, so I’m in charge of Dominique.” Bill paused, both frowning and smirking simultaneously. “Although, it looks like I’m not the only one to have brought my two girls out for the day.”

“What? Oh.”

Artemis covered her chest with her hand and scowled at Bill. In response, he began to laugh wickedly.

“Maybe try and keep your distance from our Aunt Muriel,” he sniggered.

“I always do.”

“I know, but she still isn’t over what you wore to my wedding. The shock of this might finally kill her.”

Artemis rolled her eyes. “Wow, you look good too, Bill.”

“I didn’t say you don’t look good. You look great, it’s just…” Bill determinedly looked away from her and held his hand up to the side of his face. “Holy crap, Artemis.”

“I don’t think you’re meant to say that in a church.”

“I don’t think you’re meant to get your tits out in one either, but here we are.”

“I don’t see why not. Mary Magdalene got hers out all the time,” Artemis retorted.

Bill blinked at her. “She was a prostitute.”

“I thought she was a virgin.”

“I’m sure she was at some point, but you’re thinking of the Virgin Mary.”

“Are they not the same person?”

“Definitely not,” Bill sniggered.

“Don’t laugh at me. I’m Jewish.”

“No, your family is Jewish. Your estranged family. You, however, ate a bacon sandwich at my house last weekend.”

“Are you not allowed to eat bacon if you’re Jewish?” Artemis frowned. Bill stared at her in disbelief.

Almost everyone was in their seats now, and the three red-headed ushers were returning to the front of the church. Bill moved out of the pew to allow Charlie to sit down between him and Artemis. Charlie was accompanied by his mother, and both of them paused to stroke the tiny fingers of the sleeping baby in Bill’s arms.

“Artemis, dear. Lovely to see you.” Mrs Weasley pulled herself away from her new grandchild to place her hands on Artemis’ shoulders and pull her into a hug.

“You look lovely, Molly,” Artemis told her as she returned the hug.

“Not as lovely as you, dear,” replied Mrs Weasley. She held Artemis at arms length and looked her up and down. Like both her sons, she paused a little at the level of Artemis’ chest. Quickly returning her gaze to Artemis’ face, she raised her eyebrows and drew her lips into a tight smile. “Well, I’d better sit down, it’s going to start any minute now.”

Mrs Weasley turned away from Artemis and sat in the very front pew, in front of Bill, and Artemis sat down beside Charlie.

“Did your mum just check me out?” Artemis hissed, and Charlie shrugged by way of response.

A stunningly pretty woman with silver-blonde hair brisked down the aisle towards them, and they shuffled sideways to make room for her to sit next to Bill.

“Hello, Fleur. How’s Victoire?”

“She is very excited,” Fleur leaned across her husband to kiss Charlie and Artemis on the cheeks. “I just ‘ope zat she doesn’t get overwhelmed.”

The sound of organ music filled the air, and the congregation rose to their feet. Fleur leaned across the two eldest Weasley brothers once more.

“Artemis,” she whispered, reaching across to touch Artemis’ wrist, “where did you get zat bra? Your breasts look fantastic.”

“Yeah, everyone’s a fan today,” muttered Artemis, hearing Bill sigh and Charlie let out a noise halfway between a snort and a cough.

At the back of the church, the doors opened to reveal a tall, balding man with glasses, holding the arm of a beautiful young woman with a broad and slightly nervous-looking smile. She was wearing a white dress with long lace sleeves and a cascading skirt, and a crown of flowers was balanced on the top of her head, from which thick red curls cascaded down to the middle of her back.

The two of them started to walk through the middle of the chapel, and in the corner of Artemis’ eye she saw Charlie’s Adam’s apple move up and down. She smiled sympathetically, and placed a hand on his forearm, rubbing small circles with her thumb. Today was going to be hard for both of them, what with all the memories of the people they had lost in the war five years previously. However, while Artemis had lost friends, Charlie had lost a brother as well. Fred Weasley’s absence was going to be more profoundly felt than ever on the day his sister got married. Charlie might have been putting on a brave face and trying to stay strong, but Artemis knew that really, she was going to have to be the strong one today.

Ginny Weasley and her father continued to walk down the aisle, followed by two bridesmaids, one with bushy brown hair and the other with large pale blue eyes. Behind them walked a small boy with hair that changed colour from purple to blue halfway down the length of the church, and Artemis’ goddaughter Victoire, scattering confetti as she toddled at his side.

At the front of the church, Fleur picked up Victoire and the two older bridesmaids joined a now tearful Mrs Weasley in the front pew. Mr Weasley shook hands with the groom, Harry, and kissed his beaming daughter on the cheek.

A Muggle in robes that made him look more like a wizard than most of the guests greeted the bride, before addressing the room.

“We are gathered here today…”

After leaving the church and having some photos on the front steps, the wedding guests had Apparated away from Godric’s Hollow back to the Burrow, the Weasleys’ family home. In the back garden, a large marquee had been erected, inside which round tables had been decked with white cloths and cutlery sets, and tiny lights were hanging from the canvas walls of the tent.

Once everyone was seated at their allocated tables, plates of food appeared in front of them. Charlie sat very straight in his seat as he ate his meal, all the while making small-talk with the guest who had been seated beside him: Kingsley Shacklebolt, a family friend and now Minister for Magic. The conversation was cordial, but not entirely comfortable, at least for Charlie. As always, he couldn’t tell what Kingsley really thought of him.

On his left hand side, he could hear Artemis having an even more strained discussion with Percy’s girlfriend Audrey. He wasn’t really listening to what was being said, but he could hear the boredom in Artemis’ voice as she made her short responses. He flicked his eyes towards her and briefly made eye contact, before turning back to Kingsley on his right.

“She looks like she’s enjoying herself,” Kingsley muttered with a wry smile, and Charlie nodded, not sure if he should laugh or not. There was a short pause, and Kingsley’s dark eyes scanned the marquee around them. “Did you two help set this all up?”

“Artemis did. I would have done, but what with work, I only got back last night,” Charlie told him.

“Are you both staying at your parents’ this weekend?”

“No, we’ll Apparate back to Artie’s house. The benefit of her still having a base back here.”

“How do you like Camden?”

“It’s… well, it’s got character,” Charlie said diplomatically. Kingsley nodded, almost knowingly, and Charlie felt the need to explain himself. “I’m more of a countryside person, really.”

Artemis, either beyond tired of her conversation with Audrey or just wanting to get his attention, placed her hand on Charlie’s knee.

“You alright?” he asked her, frowning.

“I’m fine,” said Artemis. “Just remembered something you said before we left this morning, that’s all.”

There was no trace of insincerity on her face, and her nose didn’t twitch. She was telling the truth. Charlie nodded, not sure what she was talking about.

“Okay. That’s good. What was it that I said?” His question went unanswered, as Artemis flashed him a small but bright smile before turning back to Audrey once more. She kept her hand on his leg, however. Charlie shook his head and turned back to Kingsley. “I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while, Mr Shacklebolt, how much of a difference your international Floo Network has made. It’s been great, thank you.”

“Please, Charlie, you really need to start calling me Kingsley.”

Kingsley said this almost every time he and Charlie spoke, which wasn’t often, yet Charlie had yet to bring himself to call the Minister for Magic by his first name. But it wasn’t Kingsley’s political status that made Charlie so uncharacteristically nervous around him; Kingsley Shacklebolt was probably the closest thing Artemis had to a father.

Of course, his sister knew all this, just as she knew that Artemis found Percy’s girlfriend unbearingly dull. Charlie had a sneaking suspicion that Ginny had seated them like this deliberately, possibly as punishment for them being late. He wouldn’t have put it past his little sister. Still, it could have been worse. They could have been put on a table with Aunt Muriel.

The thought improved Charlie’s mood slightly, and as Kingsley started to ask him about his work, he answered his questions with less forced politeness. Charlie was pretty happy talking about dragonology, generally speaking.

His newfound comfort in the conversation rapidly diminished, however, as he found himself struggling to concentrate on what he was saying. It wasn’t his fault. It was Artemis’ fault. More specifically, the fault of Artemis’ right hand, which was currently wandering up and down and around his left thigh.

Oh, he realised, that was the thing he’d said before they left the house. But why had she chosen now of all times to… Was Percy’s girlfriend really that boring? Or was she really trying to… For Godric’s sake, he was trying to talk to Kingsley about… What was he trying to talk about?

As Artemis’ hand cupped his crotch, Charlie cleared his throat and used his elbow to push her arm away from him. Artemis stopped her conversation with Audrey and her smirk slipped from her face as she turned to look at him. Charlie shot her a very brief warning glance, and she pursed her lips, eyebrows furrowed. Charlie ignored her sulking, and continued to talk to Kingsley, once more able to concentrate on what he was saying.

At least, he was able to concentrate at first. It didn’t take long until Artemis had started to distract him in a different way. She was no longer touching him, but rummaging in her bag under the table. He tried his hardest to ignore her, but eventually he felt something suspiciously wand-like brush against the outside of his left thigh. That was alarming. Why on earth was Artemis casting spells at the dinner table?

“Will you behave yourself?” he whispered to her, hardly even joking, as she dropped her wand back into her bag and snapped it shut.

“No, that would be less fun,” replied Artemis, her smile more mischievous than ever. She reached out with her hand to take hold of his and bring it down onto her lap, where she pressed something that felt like a piece of soft fabric into his palm. With that, she rose to her feet.

“Excuse me,” she said, her hip brushing Charlie’s arm as she pushed her chair back. “Just off to powder my nose.”

Said nose twitched a little, and there was a look of triumph in Artemis’ eyes as she turned away to walk out of the tent. Below the table, Charlie ran the fabric through his fingers, and felt his face flush as he realised exactly what she had just handed to him. He pocketed the item, and considered his next move.

She’d be expecting him to follow her, of course, and he did want to do so. Merlin, he really wanted to do so. The problem was when, and how to not draw attention to himself. He couldn’t do it immediately, that would be too obvious, and besides, he really couldn’t stand up right now.

Luckily, or maybe unluckily, a distraction came in the form of his three other brothers arriving at the table, hovering behind Audrey and Artemis’ empty chair. Charlie quickly dropped a napkin onto his lap, just in case.

“I’ve had an idea,” George said, placing his hands on Audrey’s shoulders. Percy’s girlfriend immediately stiffened and sat up even straighter. “We’ve all got girls with us tonight. How about a little betting game?”

“What are we betting on?” Percy asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Which one catches the bouquet at the end of the night.”

Ron frowned. “How much?”

“Two Galleons each, winner takes all,” George suggested. He took his hands back and clapped them together. “Who’s in?”

There was a general murmur of assent, and each of them placed a gold coin into a velvet drawstring bag that George had conjured from thin air.

“What are you all plotting?”

A woman’s voice came from behind them, interrupting them. All five Weasley brothers whipped around to face their mother, trying to look as innocent as possible.

“We’re not plotting anything, Mum. We’re just chatting,” Bill said, kissing Molly Weasley on the cheek. Behind him, George hastily stuffed the bag of Galleons in the pocket of waistcoat. “Out of interest, who do you think will catch Ginny’s bouquet?”

Molly softened slightly as she considered Bill’s question.

“I’m not sure. There’s a lot of Quidditch players here today, and Fleur was a Triwizard champion. It really could be any of them.”

“No,” Kingsley interjected with a deep chuckle, “Tiny will get it, for sure. If we were placing bets, that’s where I’d be putting my money.”

Charlie looked across at the Minister for Magic, who winked at him conspiratorially before returning to his conversation with Andromeda.

“Where is Artemis?” his mother asked him, as the others returned to their own tables.

“She went to the loo,” Charlie answered, seeing his escape route. “She’s been gone a little while, actually. I should probably check that she’s okay.”

“Well, if she’s gone to the ladies’, I can—”

“No, Mum. You don’t have to do that.”

“But—”

“Honestly, it’s better if I go. She wasn’t feeling well earlier,” Charlie lied smoothly, rising from his seat. His mother frowned.

“Wasn’t she?”

“No, she was pretty sick before we left this morning. I should go. How long until the speeches? I know she won’t want to miss them.”

“Quarter of an hour or so, I expect.” Molly still looked concerned. “Charlie, is everything okay?”

“Of course it is, Mum. Won’t be long.”

Before his mother could protest further, Charlie briskly walked out of the marquee and into the garden, in search of Artemis, who was nowhere to be seen. He walked across the grass, towards the house, and as he did, he noticed a tortoiseshell cat lying on the patio, basking in the September afternoon sun. He smiled and shook his head at her.

“Enjoying the weather, are we?”

Hearing Charlie’s voice, the cat rose to her feet. A second later, Artemis stood in its place, her weight on one leg, the other crossed in front of her, her head tilted to one side.

“You took your time,” she said, with a coy smile. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to follow me.”

“Of course I was. I couldn’t exactly just get up and go.”

“I think you probably could.” Artemis held her hand out to him. “Shall we find out?”

Charlie lowered his head and laughed, before putting his hand into hers. Someday, he thought, she was going to be his downfall. Perhaps she already was.

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