Chapter 6

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He visited the loo, washing up for dinner, lingering a moment staring at himself in the mirror, poking around the cupboards. Realizing he was stalling, he went out and joined his wife at the table.

"Smells good," he said.

She gave him a fleeting smile.

The two of them tucked in, Ginny not so covertly watching him for most of the meal. She didn't push, though, or pester him with questions or platitudes, which he appreciated.

"How is it?" she asked, gesturing at his plate.

"Good," he said. "I like it."

She nodded, going back to her food.

The long night with no sleep seemed to be catching up with both of them. Not to mention the long walk.

"Why don't we get you set up," she said, clearing the half-eaten plates. "I'll deal with this later."

He wanted to offer to help, but knew he'd be more of a hindrance than a help. She led him into the bedroom he'd glimpsed earlier. It was a comfortable-looking room, with a large, quilt-covered double bed.

"That's yours," she said, pointing at a chest of drawers. "Your night things are in the second drawer."

Crossing over to a closet, she lifted up on her toes to pull things off a top shelf. She set a silvery cloak on the bed. "This is your invisibility cloak." She put a leather case down next to it. "And your emergency stash."

"Why are you..." he asked, not sure why she was giving this all to him.

"I want you to feel safe," she said. "I know that means feeling like you can leave if you want. You can. I just hope you'll choose to stay. Or that you'll at least come back."

"You wouldn't worry?" he asked, biting down the immediate impulse to sweep everything up and take off just to prove he could.

"Like crazy," she admitted, letting out a weak laugh. "But I know you probably won't sleep without them."

She pulled some clothes out of a dresser and collected a few things from the attached bath.

"I'll be in the next room," she said.

"I don't mean to put you out," he said. "I can take the other room."

"It's your bedroom, Harry."

"Ours," he blurted. "Isn't it?"

Her lips pressed together. "Yes. You're still recovering. I want you to be able to rest without...worrying. Maybe it will help, being in a familiar place."

He didn't have anything to counter that, knowing he couldn't very well ask her to stay. Sharing a bed would just be too weird.

"Feel free to poke around as much as you like," she said. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, uh, Ginny."

She winced a bit at him stumbling over her name, and he felt like an arse for that.

The door closed after her, and Harry glanced around the space.

"Right," he said to himself and set about checking what exactly he had in his stash.

It was a rather thorough collection of potions, various types of money, a couple of charmed identity papers. A moleskin pouch. Various small notebooks filled with careful notes. And tucked away all the way in the bottom, a scant collection of letters and photographs.

He eventually settled down on the bed to rest, but still didn't sleep particularly well despite his exhaustion. He tried to ignore the thought that maybe he just wasn't used to sleeping alone.

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