Sticks & Stones

Harry and Ginny came out of the Floo in the back room of Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes. After picking themselves up and dusting each other off, Harry headed for the door to the main shop, but Ginny stopped him; “Harry, we can’t go that way!” she said. “Scrimgeour’s probably looking for you, remember?!”

Harry ground his teeth. “Yeah… Damn it, I’m so sick of this! It was bad enough when people were accosting us about the marriage and the ‘Chosen One’ nonsense! I just want to be able to walk down the street like a normal person!”

“I know, Harry,” Ginny said with a sigh. “Unfortunately that’s probably never going to happen. Let’s just focus on staying alive for now, okay? We can worry about your adoring fans later.”

Harry smiled reluctantly when he saw Ginny’s lip twitching. “Fine. Apparating to Gringotts, then?”

The two of them appeared just outside of the white marble building, and hurried through the doors before anyone saw them. Harry noticed that Diagon Alley looked practically deserted—a huge contrast to only a month earlier, when wizards and witches were swarming the shops looking for ways to safeguard themselves from the coming storm.

Since they had an appointment a goblin came to help them immediately. Harry and Ginny were separated and subjected to extensive magical testing to determine that they were who they said they were, and that they were acting of their own free will. It was actually similar to the Veritaserum tests that the D.A. used, but a lot more unpleasant. Harry was very reluctant to split from Ginny, knowing how much the goblins unsettled her, but he had no choice.

When they were reunited, Ginny clamped onto Harry’s arm. “I really hate this,” she growled. “From now on you can do all the trips to our vaults!”

Harry smiled sympathetically. “Maybe once the war’s over it won’t be so bad.” Ginny looked skeptical, but didn’t say anything.

A goblin escorted Harry and Ginny to another room, where they boarded a cart to take them down into the tunnels to the first of their vaults. It was their first time visiting the Black family vaults—they’d had the goblins retrieve the four Invisibility Cloaks and bring them to the surface for Harry and Ginny to collect—and Harry and Ginny got a surprise when, in taking some tunnels they never had before, they passed by several dragons being restrained by magical fields. Harry even saw a Hungarian Horntail—he wondered if it wasn’t the one he’d flown against during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. It certainly looked at him as if it remembered. “Are—are they always here?” he weakly asked the goblin driving the cart.

“Of course,” the goblin answered casually. “Your vaults are in the highest area of security, Mr. Potter. The magical barriers are only in place when people with access are passing through.”

“No wonder no one ever steals anything from Gringotts,” Ginny mumbled.

“Except the Philosopher’s Stone,” Harry murmured in her ear.

Both Harry and Ginny were profoundly relieved when the cart rolled to a stop next to a platform. “Do not move, please,” the goblin said, and stood up. He drew out what looked like ordinary sand from a pocket; he waved his hands, recited several phrases in Gobbledegook and scattered the sand on the platform. The sand vaporized before it landed, causing Harry and Ginny to jump. “Please step off the cart,” the goblin said.

“Uh… Are you sure it’s safe?” Harry asked.

“For you,” the goblin replied patiently. “Until I scattered the sand, anyone would have been charred to a cinder. Now anyone allowed access to the vaults may step safely, although until you do I cannot.”

Harry exchanged a nervous glance with Ginny, but stood up and tentatively placed a foot on the platform. He felt a sort of rushing sensation, but no adverse effects. Once his foot was firmly on the ancient wood, the goblin leapt out of the cart without hesitation. Ginny seemed to take that as an all clear sign, and got onto the platform herself.

The double doors were so large that they dwarfed even the doors to the Great Hall at Hogwarts. When Ginny asked why they were so big, the goblin only answered “Some things will not put up with being Shrunk.” He stepped up to the doors and tapped a finger against it; a hidden grate opened, revealing two oddly-shaped holes. “You both have your keys?” the goblin asked. Harry and Ginny both nodded. “Bring them over, please. Both of you.”

Harry was confused, since technically Ginny’s keys were supposed to be identical to Harry’s, but he and Ginny both pulled out their key rings. Each had seventeen keys; one for Harry’s parents’ vault, one for Sirius Black’s, and fifteen for the fifteen various Black family vaults. Harry didn’t know how to identify the right key, so he raised the ring for the goblin to see. “That one,” the goblin said immediately, tapping one key with a long, pointed nail. He did the same for Ginny’s. “Inside the holes you will find slots for your keys,” he said, indicating the holes in the door.

Harry realized what the holes were—they were sculpted to fit the odd shape of a fist holding a key. Harry caught Ginny’s eye and inclined his head toward the door; she shrugged and stepped forward, slipping her hand into the hole with the key pointed forward.

The metal folded around her arm, pinning her to the door. “Harry!” Ginny yelped, pulling, but the metal held fast; Harry tried to help but her arm wouldn’t budge.

“Now you, Mr. Potter,” the goblin said calmly. “It will release you both together.”

Harry was extremely reluctant to put his hand into a hole that would trap him as it had Ginny, but he didn’t see any other choice—he couldn’t leave Ginny stuck. She was clearly frightened and it was getting worse by the second. “Hang on!” he said to Ginny, and thrust his hand into the other hole. He felt the key slide into place, and the metal closed around his own arm. There were clicking and grinding noises from the door, and then a loud THUMP—and the metal retracted, sending Harry and Ginny both sprawling onto the platform. They watched in dumb shock as the huge doors swung inward, revealing the vault.

Harry helped Ginny up. She was clearly shaken, but angry as well. “So if Harry hadn’t been here, I’d have been stuck like that?” she demanded furiously.

“If Mr. Potter had not been here,” the goblin answered, “only one hole would have appeared in the door.”

The goblin seemed to be waiting, so Harry and Ginny cautiously walked forward. No other magical safety devices appeared, and they both breathed sighs of relief once through the doors. “Is it like that on all of our vaults?” Harry asked.

“All except two,” the goblin answered, and Harry figured he was referring to the vaults of Harry’s parents and Sirius. “The previous owners of these vaults requested the highest possible level of security. However, now that you are sole owners you may make any changes you wish.”

“We will be,” Ginny responded darkly.

The goblin bowed. “I will wait for you here. If you cannot find what you are looking for, call and I shall come. When you are finished, return to the entrance and we shall proceed to your next vault.”

Harry and Ginny both forgot about the rattling incident as they wandered through the cavernous vault. Almost anything Harry could imagine seemed to be there, and some that defied description. Harry felt rather like he had on his first wonder-filled trip through Diagon Alley. Everything seemed new, as though they’d entered a new world, and even Ginny, who was a pureblooded witch and had lived her entire life surrounded by magic, was struck dumb by what they saw.

Finally Harry found his voice; “That’s pretty,” he said, gesturing to a clear fountain they were passing. “There must be an Unbreakable Charm on the glass.”

Ginny peered at the fountain. “There’s no glass, Harry,” she said, smirking.

“What?” Harry looked closer, and sure enough, and sure enough there was nothing there—the water was fountaining and maintaining its shape all on its own. “Wow,” he said. “I wonder if I’ll ever get used to magic.” He reached out to touch the water, just to be sure it really was doing what his eyes told him was impossible.

“NO!” Ginny shouted, grabbing Harry’s arm and dragging it back.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Harry, this is the Black Family Vault,” Ginny said pointedly. “I know that Sirius was a good person, but generally speaking the Blacks were very like the Malfoys. For all you know that ‘water’ is really acid!”

Harry swallowed. “Bloody hell, you’re right. How can I risk touching the objects we suspect are… um, the objects we came looking for if they might harm me?”

Ginny hesitated a moment, and then called out “Hey! Come help us?”

The goblin appeared beside them instantly. “You called?”

“Is there any way to determine whether the belongings in these vaults will harm us?” Ginny asked. “We’ve decided that we would rather keep all of our fingers and toes.”

The goblin blinked. “As owners of the vaults, nothing stored here can harm you. It is a service Gringotts guarantees its clients.”

“Oh. Good,” Ginny said. She turned to Harry. “Do you have the lists?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, and fished out two lists; one had the items they thought had a chance of being the final Horcrux, and the other had the Mermish Water Stunner and a few other items of interest to them.

Ginny took the lists from Harry and handed them to the goblin. “These are the items we’re looking for,” she said. “Could you lead us to them? I suspect if we try it ourselves it will take weeks.”

The goblin took the lists and scanned each page once. “Follow me,” he said, and walked off.

Harry and Ginny followed the goblin as he led them from one item on the list to the next. He only had to glance at each written item once and knew exactly where to go, which certainly saved them a lot of time. Harry pretended to consider each object, turning them over in his hands, even though he didn’t know what half of them were—but none he touched made his scar burn.

When they’d found everything stored in that vault they moved on to the next, and then the next. The goblin didn’t seem at all perturbed that Harry chose not to take the items with him—Harry suspected that other patrons of Gringotts had behaved even more strangely. They did Shrink the Water Stunner once they found it, and Ginny pocketed it. When she did, the goblin made a note which automatically updated the vault ledgers.

Around the eighth vault they came across something unexpected—about halfway through the vault, just past a huge collection of Quidditch gear, an arch was curtained off, and when Harry pulled a rope to retract the curtain it revealed a large, grassy meadow; there were trees and birds, and where the ceiling should have been was a vast blue sky with puffy white clouds and a bright sun. “What in Merlin’s name is this doing here?” Ginny asked in confusion.

“I don’t know,” Harry said, glancing around.

“It’s a nice change from the weather outside,” Ginny said appreciatively. Harry agreed; it was a very cold late November, and the skies had been hinting at snow for days. It really was a very pleasant scene—he wondered if the weather in the meadow was as warm and inviting as it looked, but he couldn’t tell—nothing passed the boundary out of the summer scene.

“How long has this been here?” Harry asked the goblin.

The goblin snapped his fingers and a large tome appeared on a pedestal just the right height for him—it was Gringotts’ copy of the vault ledgers. He thumbed through it a bit until he found a certain page. “This item has resided in this vault since 1744,” he said.

“Item?” Harry repeated. He looked back out at the meadow. A deer had wandered into the clearing and was eating some grass. “You mean the entire meadow is listed as one item?”

“Yes,” the goblin said. “It was placed here by the Lady Catherine Guinevere Black in 1744, and has remained since.”

“Is it—I mean, is it real?” Harry asked. “Could we… walk into it?”

“The Lady Black did so on numerous occasions, according to our records,” the goblin said.

Harry took Ginny’s hand. “Come on,” he said, feeling slightly giddy, and stepped over the boundary.

The warm breeze hit him instantly and he smiled at the scent of the clear country air. He could see for what looked like miles, and there were no signs of human civilization anywhere. Turning, he saw that Ginny had hesitated on the other side; she was still holding his hand, but wasn’t crossing over. “Come on,” he said. “It’s fine.”

Ginny looked skeptical and a little afraid, but she took a deep breath and jumped over, landing in Harry’s arms and making him stagger slightly. “Oh!” she said, her face lighting up as she looked around. “This is amazing!”

“It kind of reminds me of Fred and George’s portable swamps,” Harry said. “Except it’s even better magic, and a lot more pleasant.” He turned to the entrance, which from that side looked like a portal standing upright in midair. The goblin was watching them from the other side. Harry walked over to the edge, but didn’t cross over. “Is this a real place, or just magic?” he asked.

“It is a real place, and it is magic,” the goblin answered.

“Thank you, that’s very helpful,” Harry said sarcastically. He glanced at his watch; it was almost one in the afternoon. “I think we need a break,” he told the goblin. “Oh damn, I wish we’d thought to bring something to eat…”

“I can obtain a meal for you, if you’d like,” the goblin offered.

“That would be great, thank you!” Harry said. “Oh, and a blanket if you can find one.”

The goblin disappeared and returned in less than five minutes with a picnic basket. Harry was mildly surprised that the goblins knew about picnics, but he was happy to take the basket along with the enormous, cushy blue blanket the goblin offered. “I shall return for you and Mrs. Potter in one hour,” he said.

“Oh—thanks,” Harry said. “But, um… her name’s still Weasley—Ginny Weasley.”

The goblin looked over at Ginny, appearing slightly confused. When Harry glanced at Ginny she seemed to be embarrassed, and wouldn’t meet his eyes. “As you say,” the goblin answered finally, and disappeared.

Harry frowned at Ginny, who was absently shaking out the blanket and laying it on the grass. “What did that mean?” he asked her.

“It—oh hell,” Ginny exclaimed, sitting abruptly on the blanket and putting her head in her hands.

“Ginny, what’s wrong?” Harry asked, sitting on the blanket in front of her. “Are you okay?”

Ginny looked up at Harry; to his surprise she looked close to tears. “I wasn’t going to bring this up,” she said quietly. “I—Harry, remember right after we’d spoken to Luna’s father, and I told you I was going to meet Pansy and giver her my opinion on some items in her vault?” Harry nodded. “Well, that was a lie,” Ginny admitted. “I didn’t meet Pansy, and I didn’t go to Gringotts.”

“Then—then where were you?” Harry asked, confused.

“I went to the Ministry,” Ginny answered. “I took our marriage license, and I had them change my name. To Ginny Potter.”

“You—you did?” Harry said dumbly. “But why?”

Ginny gasped. “B-because… because we’re married!”

“No, that’s not what I meant!” Harry said quickly. “I mean why now, Gin? You haven’t been in any hurry to get it changed, and it’s really just a formality—”

“To you it’s just a formality,” Ginny interrupted. She looked Harry right in the eye. “I know you don’t really understand, Harry, which is why I haven’t been pushy about it, but names have power for wizards and witches. I don’t mean politically or socially—I mean real magical power. A wizard marriage has magic wrapped up in every part of it—it’s a true binding in every sense of the word, and taking on your name is the final seal. Until was done, we weren’t really—complete as a couple. Haven’t you noticed in the last week how much more… together we’ve been? How we haven’t spent practically any time apart?” Harry hadn’t really considered it, but now that Ginny pointed it out, he realized she was right. He nodded. “It’s because the final binding between us is complete now; it makes us more—um, close.”

She dropped her eyes to her hands, which were wringing a corner of the blanket. “But it’s a lot more than that, Harry. You’re closing in on a big confrontation with Voldemort. Everyone knows it, and you and I both know it’s going to be soon. You’re going to be walking a knife’s edge, and it won’t stop even after Voldemort’s gone, because every former Death Eater will be at your heels looking for revenge. You’re going to need every bit of help you can get in order to survive, and the absolute best thing I can do to ensure that happens is to commit myself to you completely—even symbolically. And especially in this way, since… Well, I don’t know how much of it you’ve heard, but there are countless people out there who think I only married you because of your fame.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that,” Harry growled. “But the people whose opinions matter know that’s not true, so who cares what everyone else thinks?”

“I care, Harry. I can say it doesn’t bother me as often as I want, but it’s just a lie because I can’t stand it—it makes me sick to think that anyone could doubt that I really love you. I honestly don’t know how l-long we’re going to have together; I want to carry your name as a—as a symbol. As a sign of how I feel about you. I want you to be able to look at me and know that I’m yours in every way—because knowing that might save your life.”

Harry swallowed. “Power the Dark Lord knows not,” he recited softly.

Ginny nodded. “I d-don’t know if it means love or not,” she whispered. “All I know is that you have to l-live because if you d-don’t it’ll kill me.” She wiped her wet eyes on her sleeve. “When Neville was attacked, and you disappeared and I d-didn’t know what happened to you… I almost f-felt like I’d died right then. And now every time you leave my sight it terrifies me because I’m half-certain I’ll never s-see you again.”

Harry pulled Ginny to him; she curled into his embrace, burying her face in his neck and clinging to him. “I wish I could give you some sort of guarantee, Ginny,” Harry murmured to her. “All I can tell you is that no matter what happens, you never had to prove your love to me. I’ve known for ages how deeply it runs, and that I feel exactly the same about you.

“I want to survive. I want it more than I ever have—even when I was fighting Voldemort in the graveyard, I didn’t feel the desire, the need to live the way I do now. There’s nothing noble or honorable about it—I just want to live so I can spend a life with you.”

“That’s what you’re going to get,” Ginny insisted, her voice thick but determined.

They sat silently holding each other on the blanket for a while until Harry spoke; “Ginny Potter,” he said thoughtfully, as though testing it out to see how it sounded. “Ginny… Potter.”

“Do you like it?” Ginny asked, almost hesitant.

“Of course I do,” Harry said fondly. “But I think it’ll take some getting used to.”

“You’re telling me?” Ginny retorted, and they both chuckled lightly.

“Ginny… Are you going to be okay?” Harry asked. “I—I know there’s not a lot I can do to help…”

“You are helping, Harry,” Ginny insisted. “I warned you a while ago that I would need cheering sometimes. I do feel better, so you haven’t been a total disaster.”

“Oh good,” Harry said ironically. “Just you let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

“Well… there is something, actually,” Ginny said slowly.

Harry nodded, recognizing Ginny’s seriousness. “Sure… anything.”

Ginny sat up and looked around. “You know what this place really reminds me of, Harry? The field near the Burrow we played Quidditch over.”

A bit confused by Ginny’s non-sequitur, Harry considered the field they were in. There were trees that created a kind of closed-in feel, and there wasn’t a single home, wizard or muggle, visible anywhere. “I sort of see what you mean,” he told Ginny. “It’s pretty secluded, and we haven’t seen anyone else—for all we know there isn’t anyone else here.”

“Exactly,” Ginny said. “That’s why I thought of the field near the Burrow. And that reminded me of, um… something else.”

Harry noticed that Ginny was blushing lightly, and got a sneaking suspicion he knew where she was leading to. “What’s that?” he asked.

“Ever since you first came to visit the Burrow I had… well, daydreams about you,” Ginny told him. “I used to go to that field, lie back and look up at the sky, and imagine what would happen if you suddenly appeared and—and kissed me.”

Harry grinned. “Just kissed?” he teased.

“Well I was only ten the first time I had that daydream,” Ginny pointed out. When Harry kept grinning she wrinkled her nose at him. “But yes, fine—as I got older the daydreams grew more… adult.”

“How adult?”

“As adult as your raunchy mind is undoubtedly thinking, Harry!” Ginny retorted, blushing fiercely. “I had a crush and you know it!”

Smiling, Harry got up on his knees and put his arms around Ginny. He turned her slowly and laid her down on the blanket, so she was looking up into his eyes. Ginny licked her lips and smiled back in anticipation. “Okay,” Harry said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Wh-what?” Ginny pushed up on her elbows as Harry stood and walked toward the portrait still hanging in midair. “Wait a minute!”

“Lie back down, Ginny,” Harry said, chuckling. “Look up at the sky.”

Understanding dawned on Ginny’s face, and as Harry trotted away he saw her lay back and put her hands behind her head. Grinning even wider, Harry hurried to the portal and stepped through it. Then he jogged over to an area of the vault they’d passed only a moment before, and when he arrived he couldn’t help but preen a bit at his idea.

In front of Harry was a mannequin, on which was a full set of Quidditch gear. The style was quite old, but it had been preserved with a spell; the leather of the guards looked brand new, and the suit was only slightly big for Harry. And clutched in the hand of the mannequin was an old but serviceable racing broom.

It took less than a minute to remove his everyday robes, and one minute more to don the Quidditch outfit. Harry threw his robes over his arm, grabbed the broom with the other hand and ran back to the portal. He hung his robes on a cabinet so he could find them later.

It was only as he stepped back into the meadow that Harry thought to wonder whether the broom’s flying charms would still work—judging by the style of the gear, it was roughly one hundred fifty years old. But knowing that nothing from the vaults could harm him drove away his hesitation, and he mounted the broom and kicked off.

It was a rough ride, but the broom did what it had to, and after a few adjustments Harry had it under control. Floating about four feet off the ground, he set the broom drifting slowly toward where Ginny was still lying on her back on the blanket. He put on a slight burst of speed when he got close, and before Ginny knew it he was hovering over her. “Harry!” she squeaked in shock. “What—where did you get—?”

“Back at the broom shed, of course,” Harry said, and Ginny’s eyes widened—the Weasleys locked all their brooms in a shed behind the Burrow. “You shouldn’t be out here all alone, Ginny.”

“I was hoping I wouldn’t alone for very long,” Ginny said coyly, playing along with Harry’s game. After all, it was her fantasy.

“Well, it looks like you got your wish,” Harry said. He let himself slide off the broom, keeping his left arm and hand gripping it; Ginny yelped when Harry appeared to be falling, but he ended up dangling with his face less than a quarter of a meter from hers. “I was hoping I might catch you alone, anyway.”

“It looks like you got your wish,” Ginny teased. “You wanted to catch me, did you?”

Harry answered by tugging on the broom just so; it dipped down so Harry’s body covered Ginny’s and his lips met hers. As soon as his knee was on the blanket Harry let go of the broom so that he had both hands free to focus on the girl beneath him.

When Harry finally pulled away he began removing Ginny’s clothes. “Harry! Harry, we mustn’t!” Ginny gasped in an exaggerated protest, pretending to weakly fend off his advances. She was clearly fighting not to grin. “What if my parents come, or one of my brothers…”

“No one will come,” Harry insisted, tugging on her trousers. “I can’t stand it, Ginny, I have to have your right now, right here!”

A snort of laughter snuck out of Ginny at Harry’s dramatic proclamation. “Oh Harry, I’ve waited so long to hear you say that!” she gushed.

“Okay, now you just sound vapid,” Harry chuckled. He finally got her trousers off and tackled her back onto the blanket, kissing her again.

“Mm, yes, well my crush on you wasn’t exactly based on intellectual attraction,” Ginny mumbled. “Just your messy hair and your gorgeous eyes—” she gasped as Harry’s erection pressed against her through his own clothes. “And the sight of you in Quidditch gear!” she added. “Harry, please, I can’t be revealed like this!”

Harry sat up long enough to undo his own trousers and cast the Anti-pregnancy Charm. Pulling Ginny’s knickers to the side, he grinned predatorily at the Firebolt tattoo she sported just above her cunt. He pinned her arms above her head with one hand, forced his way between her legs (which was tricky, since Ginny’s legs were quite strong) and plunged inside her, filling her completely. Ginny yelled but Harry covered her mouth with his free hand; “Quiet, Ginny,” he murmured in her ear. “You don’t want anyone to hear.”

Ginny whined as Harry ground his hips forward, working his cock deeper inside her. “I don’t care, Harry!” she exclaimed, struggling to free her arms. I give in! Take me now, I don’t care who sees!”

Laughing, Harry let go of Ginny’s arms, braced his hands on the ground and thrust down hard. Ginny moaned and clutched two fistfuls of his shirt, spreading her legs as far as she could and rocking her hips to meet Harry’s thrusts. As worked up as Ginny was in fulfilling one of her long-time fantasies (sort of), she only lasted a few minutes before she came, wrapping her legs around Harry and grinding her clit against him. Harry only lasted another half a minute more before erupting inside her.