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Ginny woke gently, easing from her dreams to the soft morning light that filled the bedroom at Grimmauld Place. The slow morning was the complete opposite of her usual routine, with its abrupt alarm and getting dressed in the dark so she could apparate to training on time.
But this morning, she had a whole, glorious week off ahead of her. A week of lie-ins and (if she had her way) her husband in minimal clothes at all times. Yes, technically they were meant to use their time off to look for a new house since they both craved fresh air and space after starting their lives together in London. But Ginny figured there would be plenty of time for that after she had thoroughly taken her time to enjoy her husband.
Speaking of said husband, his side of the bed was sadly empty, the sheets cool to the touch when she stretched her arm out. She frowned softly and sat up; he wasn’t anywhere in the bedroom or the connecting bathroom.
She slumped back into the pillows with a frustrated sigh, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face and did nothing to keep the pout from her lips. She had been looking forward to spending a long, lazy morning in bed with Harry on the first morning of her holiday. She’d had some pleasant ideas of how they could spend that time.
Turning her head to the side, her gaze landed on his empty pillow, still dented in the middle from where his head had been resting, and then to the clock on his bedside table, which told her that it was well past ten in the morning.
Harry had never been good at a lie in.
She grabbed her wand from its spot on her bedside table, it was easy to draw forth a memory from only two months earlier to cast her patronus. The image of Harry’s eyes lighting up as she walked towards him on their wedding day filled her mind and the gleaming horse sprung from her wand, prancing around the room before stopping in front of her, pawing at the ground impatiently.
“What’s a girl gotta do to get a cuppa and a biscuit around here?” she asked, already imagining his exasperated laugh when he heard the message, before sending her patronus off with another wave of her wand. She settled back under the covers, bare legs rubbing against the soft cotton in anticipation of Harry’s arrival.
As expected, it wasn’t long before she heard his footsteps on the stairs, and the bedroom door opened to reveal a disgruntled husband, his hair sticking up in every direction and just begging for Ginny to sink her hands into. She just grinned at him, her eyes dragging down his body, taking in the Harpies shirt she knew had Potter emblazoned on the back and enjoying the way his joggers clung to his thighs.
“Really?” he asked, moving with the tray hovering before him as he directed it to the bed. “You couldn’t come downstairs? I’ve got breakfast on the stove.”
“Why would I, when I have a husband to tend to my every need?”
He hummed, unconvinced, but didn’t stop her when she grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him in for a soft kiss. “Thank you,” she said sweetly.
He kissed her once more before pulling away. “I’ll be back with breakfast in ten,” he said. Ginny really was pleased to have nabbed herself a man who, amongst his many other talents, kept them both well fed.
She released her hold on his shirt, pointedly letting her gaze drop so he knew she would be watching his arse as he left the room. He winked and left with an extra swing of his hips that made her laugh. Only once he was gone, did she turn her attention to the tray he’d brought, which as well as the requested tea and biscuit, bore a potion vial.
“Oi! What’s this?” she called after him, despite knowing exactly what it was. She sniffed it delicately and screwed her nose up at the smell.
“Your vitamin potion!” he shouted back up the stairs. “You keep forgetting to take it!” he added, teasing sarcasm dripping from his voice. He knew just as well as she did that there was nothing forgetful in her decision not to take the vile potion.
She heard him run back up the stairs, and raised her eyebrows when he popped his head back in. “Don’t throw it down the sink again, you know it doesn’t like it.”
It was true, the last time she’d tried to get out of taking the foul tasting potion, the bathroom sink (which had a mind of its own) had spat it back in her face.
She held the vial up to him in a silent toast, pinched her nose and downed it in one. She groaned at the taste, quickly taking a large gulp of tea to rid it from her mouth.
“Our new house is going to have a muggle sink without an attitude,” she said, face still screwed up from the aftertaste.
Harry smirked. “You’ll still have to take your vitamin potion,” he pointed out before disappearing again. “Our new house isn’t going to have so many stairs!” he called back up to her.
Ginny laughed and plucked a biscuit from the tray, dunking it into her tea as she settled back against the pillows. She’d make sure their new house had some stairs. They were doing great things for her husband's arse.
She reminded him of that ten minutes later, when she pulled him back to bed, breakfast left forgotten as she took full advantage of the long day they had stretched ahead of them.