The Empty Nest
Teasing and Tantalising

By Jeconais

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The morning silence in the medium sized house was rudely disturbed by a loud banging noise.  

"James Sirius Potter, Samantha Jadelyn Potter, wake up," Ginny yelled, using her fist against the door to Jamie’s room.   "You have five seconds to be up and in the bathroom before I resort to other means."  

She was actually surprised they were sleeping so hard; they had been so excited the night before, to think that they were going to go to Hogwarts for the first time the next day.   But obviously, not even that excitement could wake the notoriously late sleepers.

She sighed, then smiled suddenly as she felt a strong pair of arms encircle her waist, and a warm tongue lightly caress her right ear.

"Let me guess," Harry’s deep voice whispered, "our cubs refuse to wake up."

"Of course," Ginny replied, "They must get it from you."   She leaned back against her husband of thirteen years. "I think their five seconds are up now.   You want to get Jamie while I get Sam?"  

"Sure," Harry sighed heroically. "Ice water or tickle torture?"

"It’s up to you, as long as he gets up."  

"Ok, love.   Just don’t scare Sami too much."   He kissed the sensitive spot under her ear before walking through Jamie’s door.  

She laughed. "I won’t," she replied under her breath.   "Too much, anyway."

---

Harry stood over his son’s bed, and looked down with a proud smile.   The small boy, blessed with the trademark Potter unruly hair, was buried deep inside the duvet.   The duvet was covered in Bludgers, permanently being chased by Beaters bats.   His son was more like his grandfather in personality than his father, an almost carbon copy of James Potter, down to the mile wide mischievous streak.   The only thing missing was a pair of thick-framed glasses.   As soon as Jamie had shown signs of myopia, Harry had cured it.   He didn’t actually need glasses himself anymore, either, but preferred to wear them in public - he felt a little naked without them.   They served as a small barrier between him and the public.

With a wave of his hand, Harry conjured a bucket of ice-cold water and dumped it unceremoniously on Jamie’s head.   Jamie, awake in an instant, jumped a foot off his bed and screamed with indignation.

"Morning, son.   Awake now?"

"Morning, Dad," Jamie spluttered through gritted teeth, shivering slightly as he wiped water out of his eyes.  

"Your mother’s been trying to wake you for thirty minutes.   In case you’ve forgotten, you start school today."

Jamie’s eyes snapped open at the mention of school. "Hogwarts… today… forgot."   He bounced out of his bed and into his sister’s room at top speed.  

Harry shook his head, and cast a drying spell on the mattress, before following at a more sedate pace.

---

Ginny stood by her only daughter’s bed, gazing at the child.   She was excited that her children were going to Hogwarts finally, but would miss them being around the house and the constant stream of Weasley cousins that flooed in and out during the day.   She and Harry hadn’t wanted a large family, just one of each, and that happened the day the twins were born.  

Sami was a perfect mix of both parents, like her brother. She had inherited her mother’s temper, along with her red hair, whereas her brother got her father’s stubborn nature and black hair.   When the twins would argue, most of the time they came to a stalemate.   Either Sami’s temper or Jamie’s stubbornness wouldn’t allow a swift resolution.   The only thing that really kept the peace was the fact they were twins.  They would revert to twin speak — the abbreviated manner of speaking that only they could understand fully - and the problem would be resolved.   And once again, peace would reign in the Potter household.

The girl was curled up under a comforter similar to the one that was on her brother’s bed.   Ginny and Harry had tried to teach their children their own positions in Quidditch, but the twins ended up as beaters.   Fred and George had taught them everything they could to the point that the only competition the younger twins had in the yearly family competition was the elder set of twins.  

Ginny was about to wake the girl when a small figure darted through the door.  

Jamie leapt on Sami’s bed. "Sami… dressed... Hogwarts!" He quickly bounced back off the bed and ran toward the twins’ shared bathroom.

Sami immediately sat up, brushing her short messy red hair out of her eyes.   She saw her mother standing beside the bed.  

"Morning Mum," she yawned.

"Good morning, Sami.   How is it I can scream at the two of you for a half hour and not wake you, but Jamie can say three words and you’re wide awake?"  

Her daughter fixed her beautiful emerald green eyes, identical to her father’s, on her mother.

"Freaky twin thing?"   She grinned.

Ginny grimaced. "That’s your answer for everything.   Just remember that Jamie can’t be the one to wake you at Hogwarts.   If he tries to climb the stairs to the girls’ dorm, they turn into a slide."   She walked to her daughter’s wardrobe and pulled out a pair of jeans and a Harpy’s sweatshirt, laying them on the bed. "Sounds like Jamie’s done in the bathroom.   Go take your shower."  

---

Ginny walked out Sami’s room to find Harry standing in the doorway of Jamie’s room.   She stuck her head in for a moment. "Jamie, don’t forget muggle clothes."  

"Yes, Mum," he replied pulling on a rugby shirt in Puddlemere colours.  

She walked down the stairs and heard Harry following her.   She kept walking towards the kitchen when a pair of hands grasped her waist.  

"Just think," Harry whispered softly in her ear. "We can be home by 11:02, after saying good bye to the other parents.   We will then have the house to ourselves."  

Ginny leaned against his trim frame, as one of his hands slowly slid up her t-shirt and lightly cupped her braless breast.  

"No more multiple silencing, locking or privacy charms," she purred, in a voice that she knew he adored.

He captured her left earlobe, and sucked on it gently, nibbling tenderly.  

"Yep."   He paused in his suckling. "Hold that thought for a moment," he advised as he turned his head toward the stairs.   "Jamie and Sami, make sure your trunks are packed before coming downstairs."  

Ginny laughed softly. "Buying us some time?"  

"Of course." He casually motioned one hand towards the stairs, casting a quick privacy and silencing charm. "You do realise that once we get home today, I don’t plan on allowing you clothes for the rest of the week?"  

"I can probably live with that."   She leaned her head back against his shoulder, craning her neck to place soft kisses on his jaw.   "I don’t think we’ve ever been able to be so spontaneous," she mumbled against his skin.   "Are you sure you can keep up?"

Harry growled softly, his hands sliding down to her waist and under the t-shirt again.   He moved both hands up together, sliding over her firm stomach, till he was cupping her breasts.   He captured the soft peaks between his thumb and forefinger, lightly pinching them, coaxing them to react to him.

Ginny groaned softly, turning her head back to the front for comfort, and relaxed against him, enjoying his fingers manipulating her body.

Harry buried his nose in her hair and breathed deeply.   She smiled, knowing that he’d always loved the smell of her hair after she’d washed it. She felt him smile against her neck, and she purred, only to gasp a second later; he had tightened his fingers and pulled outwards, the pleasure dancing along the fine edge of pain.   He released one of the now engorged nipples, sliding his hand hard down the side of her ribs, over her stomach, and cupped her tightly through her Muggle style denim skirt.   His strong fingers probed against the material, forcing it to press into the soft, tender, flesh beneath.

The movements of his left hand smoothly alternated between cupping and fondling her breast, before returning to the now-diamond-hard peak and pinching it.

Ginny slowly started to pant; they’d been parents for so long that their lovemaking had become almost routine, as they concentrated on being parents, first, and married, second.   Now that the first restriction was being removed, they were both realising just why they had loved each other to start, and had no intention of ever going back to putting themselves second.

They had both seen the slight sadness in Ron and Hermione as they had done the same, only with a lot more kids.   Still, those thoughts were for another time - when her husband’s hands weren’t finding just the right spot to rub against.   His aggressive behaviour with her was arousing her far more than she would like to admit.   They’d both gone from virginally insecure, to totally loving, to being parents, with no real sexual exploration in the middle.   Everything had been rose petals on silk sheets - tender and loving.  

It was only after talking to some of her girlfriends that she’d realised that there was something else out there, and, being a Gryffindor, she had taken the brave option and talked to Harry about it.

To her surprise, he had nodded, and told her that he had been told that sex could be down and dirty as well, but the very best was combining both, getting down and dirty with someone you loved.   They’d agreed to wait the few days until their kids were finally away at school, but some research with the help of PlayWizard magazine, had meant he’d been sending her looks that pretty much turned her knees to jelly and set her mind quivering with anticipation.

"Just there," she groaned, as he forced the material harder against her.

Harry suddenly pulled away from her.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ginny half demanded, half moaned in agonized frustration.

Her husband smirked at her.   "I’m just getting you in the right frame of mind.   When we get home, I want you ready, 'cause I’m not waiting."

There were three things, at that moment, which saved Harry from a Bat Bogey Hex.   The look of pure carnal desire in his eyes, the bulge in his trousers showing that he was suffering as much as she was, and the twins dragging their trunks down stairs, being careful to make sure they bounced them on each step.

Harry looked at her for a second, and then waved his hand absently.   Her t-shirt suddenly felt rougher against her still-aroused nipples, and as she looked down, she realised that no one could see exactly how turned on she was.   She met her husband’s eyes with an amused look.

"Ok, kids," Harry said calmly, showing no outward sign of discomfort.   "We’re taking the floo to Grandma Molly’s, as always."

"Cool!" the twins shouted in unison.   They dragged their trunks to the fireplace, and were through it in a bright flash - the action second nature to the magical children.

Ginny shook her head in amusement, and started to follow them.

"Petrificus Totalus," Harry said calmly, causing Ginny to freeze in mid-step.  

"You look good enough to eat," he informed her, his veneer of normality vanishing, replaced with a white hot lust that was able to make her sweat, even through the spell.

He dropped to his knees in front of her, and slid his hands up her legs, obviously enjoying the smooth skin.   He grabbed her knickers, and drew them down her legs, before being faced with the fact that, as she was frozen, he had no obvious way of removing them.   He didn’t let that stand in his way, and a second later he threw the now-magically ruined underwear into the nearest bin.  

"Men have all these fantasies, dirty little secrets," he whispered roughly into her ear as he stood.   "Like thinking of you, standing on the platform at the station, naked and glistening under your skirt, surrounded by hundreds of strangers, knowing that there is nothing in the way of me lifting you against a wall, undoing my trousers and sliding straight into you, knowing that the slight flush in your cheeks is caused by excitement, not the rush of getting our cubs off to school."

Ginny moaned, and then found herself able to move once again, as Harry waved a hand, cancelling the spell.   She decided instantly that there was no way in hell he was going to get away with that.   She took a few steps away from him and turned.   She slid her right hand over her breast, then down her flat stomach, inhaling to give herself space to slide under the waistband of her skirt.   She lightly ran a finger between her legs, collecting the moistness that his earlier caressing and words had produced.   She pulled her hand back, her fingertip glistening in the sunlight streaming through the kitchen window.   She seductively raised her hand, and rubbed her finger against her lips, transferring her essence, before opening her mouth and sliding her finger slowly inside.   With an almost painful slowness, she sucked and licked her fingers clean, locking her eyes with his.

Harry groaned, stumbling back, and catching himself against the counter.   His eyes had a wild passionate look about them: a look she had never seen before in his eyes.

She moved closer and kissed him, feeling his tongue lick her lips hungrily.   "Girls have fantasies too," she whispered, her hand now grasping him firmly through his jeans, the heel of her palm pressing rhythmically against the head of which she could just feel the outline.  

"And payback’s a bitch," she grinned, before releasing him, and dashing into the fireplace, vanishing a second later.

As she tumbled through the floo, she was suddenly hit by a thought: 'How am I going to kiss my mother 'Hello’ now?’  

---

Stunned beyond speech, or even the ability to move, Harry Potter slowly started to smile as he remembered, once again, just why he loved the fireball he’d married so much.   He had really hoped that he’d be able to awaken that side of her in bed, and it looked like it was going to happen.

Asking Remus about his sex life had been the singular most embarrassing event in his life, eclipsing *everything* else by a mile.  

Luckily, the werewolf had proven to be an excellent choice and had offered advice that was both theoretical and practical, explaining from a psychologist’s perspective his opinion of their marriage and how they had reacted with the defeat of Voldemort - by throwing themselves into a fairytale-romantic marriage, then focusing on raising their children.   Remus had also pointed out that neither had known enough about sex and sensuality to allow them to find a middle path.

The advice from there had turned more than a little risqué, loaded with the copies of PlayWizard, and a Pensive from a firm specialising in pornographic memories.   He’d returned home to find that Ginny, as always, was right with him.

He smiled, licking the taste of his wife off his lips, and vanished, preferring to go by his own power, rather than use the floo network.

---

As the grandchildren had started to reach the age they would leave for Hogwarts, Molly Weasley had moved smartly to instigate a new family tradition.   Her entire family would gather at the Burrow for a large breakfast, before they would take a Portkey to the station.   Having Harry Potter as part of the family meant that little things like obtaining the ordinarily hard-to-create Portkeys was a snap.  

Literally, in Harry’s case, as all it took was a snap of his fingers.

The atmosphere was always festive, as Molly, with grey hair now streaking her natural red, would glorify in feeding everyone, and having her entire family in one place.   It was the only other time of the year, apart from Christmas, where she could be sure to see everyone.

After the kids had been placed on the train, the younger ones who had been left alone would spend the day at the Burrow, with their Grandparents, as a form of consolation for being left behind.   This year, only Ron and Hermione’s two youngest children, Helena and Dion, and Bill and Fleur’s twins would be the only ones staying.  

Ginny landed in the Weasley family kitchen to a jumble of sound.     Glancing around, she saw Jamie and Sami were already at the table, digging in furiously - both fully aware that if they didn’t, one of the other members of the ravenous horde would.   She shook her head, waved at her mum from across the room, and walked over to talk to Hermione.   As she did, she threw a flirtatious glance at Harry as he walked into the kitchen from outside.

---

As Harry appeared in the garden at the Burrow, two thoughts were fighting for dominance in his mind.  

Getting his kids off to school.

And then getting his wife off.  

Repeatedly.  

Unfortunately, the latter couldn’t be done before the former.

The kitchen was the usual mix of organisation and chaos, he saw as he entered.   It always amazed him how Molly managed to feed so many, while keeping track of all them at once.   He returned her smile as his mother-in-law shot him a welcoming smile.  

"I ate earlier," Harry mouthed across the din, knowing she trusted her daughter to look after him.   She nodded, and got back to work, while he walked into the living room.   He smiled back as Ginny smiled at him, and then entered into a conversation about the latest Wheezes from WWW.

---

"I did it!" Ginny whispered excitedly.

"You did?" Hermione’s excitement matched the smaller woman’s perfectly.

"Yep.   That hair-removal potion of yours worked perfectly.   My legs are so smooth now, not even a hint of stubble."

Hermione looked proud.   "It took some research, but it was worth it.   I save all that time now, not having to use shaving spells."

Ginny looked around furtively, and then leaned in closer.  

"It works everywhere," she confided.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, looking confused.

Ginny blushed lightly.   She moved a hand up to her hair, and lightly tousled it.  

"This is the only hair on my body now."

"You didn’t!?" Hermione gaped.

"Yep.   I did," Ginny giggled.   "All gone."

"What does Harry think?"

"He doesn’t know yet," Ginny smirked.   "I think he’s going to like it."

"So, what’s the plan for today?"

"As soon as the kids are on the train, Harry’s going to Apparate us straight home, and about five seconds later, I expect to be naked and enjoying what ever we start with."  

She looked around again, and seeing that no one was paying attention to them, continued, "We’ve been teasing each other all morning, revealing fantasies.   I never knew he had such a nice dirty mind."

Hermione looked a little jealous.   "You do realise that you’re glowing, right?"

"Hold that thought, Hermione," Ginny replied with a grin.   "It's time I went and teased that husband of mine again."

Hermione grinned, "What are you going to say?"

Ginny paused, "You know, at some stage, you're going to have to bring this up with Ron.   You can't live vicariously through me forever."

"I know," Hermione sighed.   "But how can I tell Ron I wish he was better in bed.   You know what he's like?"

"You think it was easy me bringing it up with Harry?" Ginny asked.   "It wasn't, but you're looking at it from the wrong perspective.   You don't want him to be better; you want both of you to improve.   You can't just lie back and think of England while he performs, you've gotta help out as well."   She paused for a second. "At least that's how I started it with Harry.   I was lucky - he'd noticed the same thing and had talked to Remus about it.   We ended up having this great conversation and made the decision that as soon as the kids are out of the way, we'd make up for eleven years of fairytale-gentle lovemaking with some proper sex.   Which is why we've been teasing each other all morning. Now, if you'll excuse me?"

Ginny turned and walked across the room, "Can I have a word with my husband for a second, Fred?"

Fred nodded and wandered over to speak to George.

Ginny pulled Harry's head down so she could whisper in his ear.   "When we get home, I'm going to tie you to the bed, kiss my way all over your naked body, then I'm gonna lick your--" she paused, her mind searching for a more adult term than 'thing'.  The PlayWizard magazine saved her. "--Cock, before taking it in my mouth."   She lightly flicked her tongue out, against his ear, and then continued.   "Just think Harry, my mouth will be moving up and down on you, while I look up at you through my hair, till you can't stand it anymore and you’ll beg me to let you cum."  

She nipped the side of his neck gently.  

"If you're a really good boy, I'll let you do it in me."

Ginny was very thankful that he had already made modifications to her shirt, so that no one would be able to see just how turned on she was at the moment.   With a saucy swing to her hips, she turned and walked away, leaving Harry locked in place.

---

Harry was locked in place, slightly stooped over, his mind blank, and his eyes unfocused.

"Are you feeling alright, Harry?" Fred asked.

"You look a little uptight," George continued.

"Are you constipated?" Fred enquired.

"He's probably not getting enough fibre in his diet," George agreed.

"You really should look after yourself a little more," Fred advised.

"Enough," Harry growled.   The last thing he needed was to be moved from an extremely nice mental place to dealing with two twits who took advantage of any opportunity for teasing.  

Unfortunately, Ginny's teasing had managed to remove part of his self-control.   Which meant his growl was accompanied by a momentary glimpse of his true magical power.

The whole room went silent for a second, looking at him with wide eyes.   One of Bill's babies burst into tears, but was quickly shushed by Fleur.

"Okay, okay," Fred and George said in unison, backing up, looking a little scared.

"Sorry," Harry apologised so everyone could hear.   "Small personal problem is affecting my self-control."   He tried to ignore the smirk that appeared on his wife’s face.  

"Now, what were you saying?" Harry asked Fred.

---

"What did you say to him?" Hermione asked.   "He looks like he's been hit by an Impediment jinx."

Ginny grinned, and then gave into the blush that had been trying to get through for the past thirty seconds.   "That I'm going to tie him up later, and well, you know..."   She made some eye movements and licked her lips suggestively.

She paused as a wave of magic hit her.   She turned and smirked as she heard Harry's apology, before looking back at Hermione.   "God, that's sexy," she muttered.

"Sexy!?" Hermione demanded with a shocked look on her face.

"Oh yeah," Ginny mumbled, her face flushing again.

"I found that terrifying," Hermione said quietly.   "We all do.   It’s the reminder that we share the room with the most powerful man in existence.   A power that’s backed up by a sense of moral courage so strong that if he decided something needed doing, no one and nothing could stand in his way."

Ginny blinked at her.  

"Harry?   My Harry?"

Hermione looked around the room.   All the kids were running around again, chasing and teasing each other, having a wild time before they had to leave for the station.   The older kids were out in the garden, laughing and joking, and most of the adults were supervising.   "Yes, Harry.   Did you ever wonder why there's been an unprecedented period of peace and prosperity over the last fourteen years?"

"Well, because Harry killed Voldemort."

Hermione shook her head, not quite believing what seemed to be a blind spot in her sister-in-law’s perceptions.  

"Sure, that's part of it, but the other bigger part is Harry himself.   So many people saw that final battle, and how Harry was trapped in that sphere with Voldemort, Lucius and the other senior Death Eaters, and they watched as Harry refused to give up, even though he was out-numbered and hurt."

Ginny lost her flush as she went pale, remembering the worst hour of her life, as she’d watched her best friend fight for her, for everyone.  

It had been then that she had made the decision to tell him that she was in love with him.   If she was fortunate enough to get the chance.

"And he won, Gin.   He beat them all.   He was like a force of nature, unstoppable.   I remember when we first saw Dumbledore in all his power.   It was exhilarating, amazing, exciting, and just a little bit scary.   Well, Harry is like that, only a hundred times more.   He walked out, exhausted, but unaided.   Voldemort and the other Death Eaters dead or dying behind him, and he walked up to Draco.   We all heard his words, even though he tried to keep his voice down.   It’s indelibly printed on everyone’s brain; the words were on the front page of every paper - while you were helping him heal, everyone else was thinking over what those words meant to them.

Ginny’s eyes went blank as she mentally returned to that day, to the speech her future husband had given.

'Take a look, Draco; take a look at Voldemort, at your father.   Look at what happened to those who thought themselves better than everyone else.   Those who thought themselves superior than others, because of their blood.   They are dead.   All of them.   I will stand in the way of anyone who tries to push their beliefs on others, in the way of anyone who decides that terror and fear is a weapon to be used.   And they will end up like Voldemort: Decomposing on a field, reviled by all.’  

Her mind snapped back to the present to hear her friend’s voice once again.   "Everyone who heard him instantly made the same decision: I don't want to stand against him, because I will lose."   She paused for a moment.   "Did you know that the Ministry shows petty criminals a Pensive of that evening, as a deterrent?"

"They do what!?"

Hermione laughed, breaking the mood slightly.   "It was Remus' idea, and it works beautifully.   They decide that a life of crime isn't for them, and move on.   Why do you think Draco's now a drag queen on the stages?   He's terrified that if he steps out of line, your husband will annihilate him."

"Harry wouldn't do that," Ginny gasped, then paused for a moment to consider her husband. "Okay, maybe he would, if he really stepped out of line."

"Exactly.   This probably shows why you two are so well suited to each other.   You've got no fear of him at all.   I have, everyone else has."

"Excuse me, Hermione," Harry interrupted, giving both women a start as he appeared at Ginny’s side.   He leant down to whisper in her ear.   "I've still got that pair of jeans, that pair that are so tight I can't wear anything under them.   That blue pair you wouldn't let me wear outside.   And that white t-shirt that fits me like a second skin.   I'm going to wear them later today, and I'm gonna push you onto the kitchen table and literally rip off your clothes, leaving you naked in full sight of anyone who walks by the window.   Then I'm going to return the favour, and kiss every freckle on your beautiful body, before licking your pussy.   I'm gonna make you scream my name, Gin-gin, make you beg, and however much you torture me, I'm gonna do you more.   By the time I finish, love, all you'll be able to hear is me, all you'll be able to see is me, all you will smell is me, and I’ll be the only thing you can taste.   I'll be everything that exists for you in this world, and in that moment, you'll belong to me like never before."

Harry looked up, shot a smile at Hermione, and walked away.

Ginny was frozen, then turned bright red, and shuddered almost imperceptibly.

Hermione's eyes opened wider than they ever had before.   "Did you just...?"

Ginny took a deep breath, and collapsed onto the floor.   She nodded once, blushing furiously, before moving slightly, making it appear as if she had sat down on purpose.

Hermione took a deep breath.   "Can I borrow those magazines you were talking about?"

Ginny, merely nodded, too busy trying to regain her self-control to talk.   "That man really knows how to press my buttons," she mumbled to herself.   "Now, how am I going to top that?"

Her friend looked at her with something akin to awe.   "You won’t give up, will you?"

Ginny, her breath now more normal, shook her head.   "I’ve known for a very long time that I can’t be a doormat to him.   Harry needs someone strong enough to stand with him through the darkness.   I am that person; it’s why I have him."   She paused and looked at her watch.   While this was a very strange place for this conversation, somehow it seemed to fit.   "How old would you say I look?"

"About twenty-four, twenty five," Hermione replied instantly, not showing any signs of jealousy.

"I went to the St Mungo’s the other day, for a full check-up.   I don’t just look in my early twenties; as far as my body is concerned, I am in my early twenties.   The medi-wizard would not believe that I am a 30-ish year old mother of twins."

"That’s not possible."

"Isn’t it?" Ginny asked.   "Look at Dumbledore, he’s approaching two hundred now and is still sprightly enough to run Hogwarts.   Harry’s a lot more powerful than him, so he’s probably going to live longer."

Hermione nodded. "That is true, but that doesn’t explain you though."

Ginny smiled slightly.   "I’m sleeping with him on a regular basis, and I’m pretty sure he’s finding a way to increase my power level to be nearer his.   I can even do some wandless magic now."

Hermione stared hard at her friend, trying to see if she was joking.   "And that’s why you only wanted two kids," she said slowly.   "Because you two are going to go on adventures, around the world?"

"Eventually," Ginny agreed.   "When Sami and Jamie are grown up; we probably will vanish for long periods of time.   Can we continue this later?   I need to nip upstairs."

With Hermione’s agreement, Ginny slipped upstairs and into her parent’s bedroom.   She walked into the closet, and pulled out a large album, opening it as she sat on the bed.   The first page was simply entitled "William Weasley."   Inside, two per page, was a photo, a small lock of hair, and the age.  

She smiled to herself as she flipped through the pages, watching Bill grow up and mature into the man he had become.   Realising that she didn’t have much time, she turned to the back, to the "Ginevra Weasley" page.

She flipped a few more, before stopping at the right page.   She’d always thought it was a ridiculous custom, and hated losing even such a little bit of her hair.   Now she was incredibly grateful, although she freely admitted that what she had in store for her hair probably wasn’t what her mother had had in mind when she saved it in the first place.

She looked down at the four pictures of herself, ranging from fourteen to seventeen, and tried to decide.   At fourteen she had just started to discover her sexuality, and Harry had featured very strongly in a lot of her fantasies, especially those under the sheets at night, when she was alone in the dark.   Still, she hadn’t really been physically mature enough to handle a sexual relationship, and the fantasy she had planned was going to definitely need her to be capable of handling it.

Full puberty had finally hit her at fifteen, and had stretched until she turned sixteen. While having her boobs grow had been a good thing, having her face covered with concealment charms to hide the spots she’d endured certainly wasn’t.

Carefully, she picked out one hair from the small lock of her hair at seventeen, and placed it in a small container she’d brought for the purpose.  

"You’re not going to know what’s hit you," she promised her absent husband out loud, a large smirk on her face.      

"Come on everyone, it’s time to leave!" Molly’s enhanced voice interrupted her, ringing through the garden and the house.

The Weasley clan gathered together around two Parking Metres - Harry had stopped the practice of making Portkeys out of ridiculous items a long time ago.  

With a wave of his hand, Harry turned them into Portkeys.   "In 30 seconds," he grinned at them, "I’ll see you there."

Because of the strong wards around the Burrow, Harry couldn’t Apparate.   The wards, a remnant from the War, had been kept up so that Harry would have a place where he felt totally safe and relaxed.   He would never have to worry about the public or the press entering.   He raised his hands, chanting in an obscure language than only Hermione recognised.   A ball of flame appeared between his hands, and he threw it to the ground where it formed a perfect pentagram.   With a smile at his wife and kids, he jumped in the middle, crossed his arms over his chest, grasping his own shoulders, and promptly sunk into the ground.

"Your dad is so cool," Dennis, George’s boy, said admiringly.

"Oh, it’s only because he hates to travel by Portkey," Jamie shrugged, completely unimpressed by the casual display of his father’s power.   After all, he saw that sort of thing pretty much everyday.  

A second later they all vanished, tumbling through space on their way to Platform 9 and ¾.

---

"Status update?" a thin voice wheezed heavily.

"His brats are leaving for Hogwarts today.   We have people moving into place around Hogsmeade, and one inside Hogwarts itself," a second voice cowered.

"In a mere week, we will be ready.   And then, that bastard Potter will pay for what he did.   This is merely the first step!" The third voice was slightly arrogant and full of confidence.

"Don’t underestimate him," the first voice wheezed.   "We need to be careful about this. If we don’t get them as hostage first, we’ll never get what we want."   The voice paused for a second.   "What about you? Are you in?"

The fourth man was looking at a moving painting of the two Potter kids.   "Give me the girl, and you’ll 'ave me 'elp."

"What?" the second voice asked, shocked.

The fourth man smiled, his shiny white teeth gleaming wetly in the dank light.   "She’s a bit like 'er ol’ man.   I like 'em young."

"But," the second voice tried again.

"Look, if you wants me 'elp, that’s me price."

"Fine," the third voice said in a bored tone, "you can have the little girl for a few hours.   You just can’t kill her."

The fourth man pouted slightly, but nodded his agreement, rubbing his hands.

"We meet again in a week," the wheezy voice whispered.   "I don’t need to remind you about the punishment for talking about this."

The other three suddenly screamed, the black scars on their left arms bursting with pain.  

The first man let them suffer for a few seconds, before releasing them.   They left as one, Apparating out of the hovel they had met in.

The first man stood and looked out of the window.   "You took him away from me; you did it.   He loved me; he needed me; he relied on me.     Well, you’ll pay for that, Potter.   Pay with everything you hold dear!" He started to laugh, a laughter tinged with insanity.

He turned and walked back, a small blade of sunlight glinting off his solid silver hand.

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