Harry Potter and No Trace Of You

Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

They settled into a quiet pattern over the next couple days. It still felt like a strange holding pattern only instead of waiting for an antidote, now they seemed to be waiting for a miracle. He woke each morning to the disappointment of nothing changing. Even the healer conceded that there was no reason for Harry to come in more often than every other day at this point. The levels never changed.

So they went for runs and he spent afternoons with Ron when he could and they visited family. He even convinced Ron to take him out to the old mill where he was found after his memories were wiped, but as Ron had said, there was nothing of note there, and seeing it didn't miraculously bring anything back. Harry scribbled away in his notebook, only to fill it with more questions than answers.

He also took up the cooking, which was nowhere near as disastrous as he would have expected. It was a small accomplishment really, going to the store, making a meal, watching Ginny eat it with pleasure. It felt like at least one thing he could control.

Ginny always insisted on doing the dishes, it being only fair in exchange. Harry usually stayed to help. He'd been trying to stop avoiding her, knowing it wasn't fair to her.

Of course, his cleaning spells were not the most reliable. At least that's his excuse for the pot slipping, splashing back down into the water-filled sink. Suds flew everywhere, splattering Harry's face.

He cursed, Ginny dissolving into laughter somewhere nearby.

Taking off his glasses, he wiped at them, glaring at his still chuckling wife.

"You look ridiculous," she admitted.

"I'm glad you find this so amusing," he grumbled.

She smiled, reaching out to wipe at the bubbles still clinging to his cheek. Her fingers lingered as she stood there looking up at him like he was still that man she knew. He'd only caught snippets of that look, but it was enough to make him almost jealous, as stupid as that sounded.

"Ginny," he said, feeling so overwhelmed by the rush of feeling that he couldn't help but lean back.

The laughter on her face dimmed, eyes left looking bruised.

She turned to walk away, but he grabbed her arm.

She paused, taking a deep breath before turning back to look at him. "What?"

He just wanted her to be happy. To make her stop looking that way. Without giving it much thought, he leaned in and kissed her.

She stiffened, clearly caught off guard, and he was about to pull back and apologize when she let out a soft sound, leaning into the kiss. He hadn't really thought past kissing her, just a little simple press of his lips to hers, only this was anything but.

His hand cupped her jaw, her lips parting as she deepened the kiss, her fingers curling into the front of his shirt. It felt way more right and familiar than he was prepared for, leaving him out of breath and flustered as he pulled back from her.

"Harry," she said, voice wavering slightly.

Everything in his head was reeling.

"I just wanted to know," he blurted, only to immediately regret the thoughtless words, the way he made it sound like an experiment rather than an impulse he couldn't control. Rather than admit that he wanted to kiss her again and again.

"I see," she said. "And did that miraculously bring everything back?"

He shook his head.

She gave him a tight smile, stepping back away from him. "Well, then. Now you know."