Hello there! Here's a nice little two-shot I thought up. I hope you all enjoy it! Reviews are always appreciated.

I don't own anything, only the plot.

Harry Potter entered his apartment and threw his coat down with as much violence as he was physically capable of. Which, it should be said, was a considerable amount of violence. Much more than the coat deserved.

But the coat didn't really matter, as he'd already stepped over it and toed his boots off, one at a time, and launched them as far as possible across the room. They made individual thumping sounds that were both rather satisfying to a man in Harry's state: irritated.

I thought I'd gotten past all this when I moved on from training! He thought, viciously ripping the knot of his tie away from his throat. I can't do a bloody thing without someone getting in my way! They're suffocating me.

He continued slamming random things through the living room as he made his way to the master suite of his apartment: a book there, some old quidditch magazines here, a trainer-

Wait, a trainer? No, that can't be right. Harry thought, but he bent down and knew that his assumptions were spot on. The limited-edition, color-specialized shoe was one that he'd seen before. And it was much too small for his own foot.

With considerably more stealth than he'd had before, Harry crept into the open door of his room to see…well, just about the best thing he'd seen in ages. Ginny Weasley was sprawled across his bed, taking up more room than should be possible, considering her small size and the bed's sizeable width.

But nonetheless, there she was. Wearing one of his old quidditch shirts and blinking sleepily up at him.

"No use being quiet now." She mumbled, turning her head more fully towards him. "You've already woken everyone up…" Her eyes began to drift closed. Harry's eyes travelled to the empty cage of the only other "everyone" that could be in his flat.

"Everyone? Ariel's an owl, love. Owls are already nocturnal…" He smiled when Ginny just flapped a hand at him.

"I thought you were supposed to be in Ireland?" He asked, sliding his shirt off and unbuckling his belt. As much as he wanted to respect her schedule and her sleep, Harry also wanted her. He wanted her in a way that made other priorities slip down the list very rapidly.

"Cancelled." Ginny muttered, even softer than before, but reaching for him when she felt his weight on the bed next to her.

"Cancelled?" Harry mused, paying a bit more attention to how she felt against him than their conversation.

"Rain or something. Waste of a week's intensive practices." She grumbled, burrowing her nose into his neck and hooking her leg over one of his. "You smell cold."

"Gin, I'm not sure that's a real smell."

"Sure it is." She inhaled again and sighed. "Where've you been?"

"Somewhere cold." He replied, scowling.

"You sound mad." Ginny said. Her eyes blinked open enough to see what he was mad at. "Are you mad at me? I can go back to my place-" The rest of her words were cut off by Harry's vehement 'NO!', and her breath wheezed out a bit when he pulled her tighter to him.

She breathed on him understandingly. "Work again?" She asked.

"I'm just…I dunno. It's a rough time starting out a new job anywhere. It's not like I should complain." He said.

"You're Harry Bloody Potter. You can complain about anything you want."

"That's the problem, Gin! I'm Harry Bloody Potter. All my superiors think I'm after their jobs and all my peers won't work with me! This one bloke, Rogers, he can't even talk to me to tell me about cases. And it's all because…Oh, I don't know. They're…"

"They're scared, maybe?" Ginny's voice had lost all traces of sleep and she was gently stroking the skin of his chest and stomach. "You're a legend. They must be intimidated."

Harry sighed. "I guess. But I just wish it were different. I want to do as much as I can, but people keep getting in my way or mollycoddling me."

Ginny snorted at his word use and both suddenly found themselves thinking, inexplicably, of Molly Weasley's chicken soup. Ginny was the first to shake the image.

"I'm sure it'll be just like Hogwarts. Just like camp. Remember everyone always freaks out when you're around and then one day they just accept you and move on."

"It wasn't quite that way at Hogwarts." Harry said dryly. Ginny made an impatient sound in her throat.

"Well, if you would've stopped saving the world and taking on these incredible feats…"

"They weren't, really." Harry told her, and continued when she gave him a look. "No! They weren't. Look something had to be done, I was the one to do it. I was literally born for it! There wasn't much choice, was there? If I had my way, nothing bad would have ever happened and I'd live out my life in complete anonymity. There's nothing good about being famous. I hate it."

Ginny only scoffed. "Please. Think about it this way: if you hadn't had any fan-girls chasing you around, you wouldn't have me! That's something good that's come out of your fame."

Harry peered down at her, knowing that Ginny couldn't care less about the fame or any of it. But he played along, grateful for the distraction.

"Are you one of my fans, then? Only dating me because I'm famous? Going to 'freak out' when I'm around? Faint and sigh and try and spike my pumpkin juice with love potions?" This got the desired effect and Ginny laughed.

"Please, Potter. I'm Ginny Bloody Weasley. I don't need potions! I'm the youngest chaser to sign on the Holyhead Harpies' first string in nearly four hundred years! And they say I'm the most attractive player—"

Harry nuzzled her ear. "I'd certainly say you're the most attractive player."

"-And my poster sales are by far the highest of all the other players."

"Poster sales? When did you get a poster?" Harry squinted into the dark, trying to figure out how he hadn't noticed huge pictures of a practically naked Ginny being sold around Diagon Alley. "Did they use the one when you're in the summer uniform?" He asked suspiciously.

"Of course they did! It's nothing but a bit of spandex and a tank top. According to the marketing department I'll be up in every Hogwarts boy's dormitory by Christmas."

Harry groaned. "You might as well be wearing your knickers in those, Gin! They're…they're indecent!" But at this, Ginny only snorted, burrowing closer one last time as her voice turned dreamy again.

"No worries, Potter. You're the only one that gets to see my knickers."

"Good!" Harry paused, stroking his hand up Ginny's back. "Are you…going to sleep?"

Ginny had to laugh at the hopefulness of his voice. She was tired, but he had just had a bad day, and he smelled so good and…

"Not at all, Potter. You?" She wrinkled her nose at him and rolled so that she was on top of him. His fingers travelled up her thighs as he kissed her hard, almost desperately. Ginny had already lost herself to his lips when he pulled away suddenly.

"Ginny?"

"Mmmm?" She frowned at him, trying to lean forward again, but his hands squeezed her bum and stopped her.

"Ginny, where are your knickers?"

She grinned up at him. "They must be there somewhere…Perhaps you should look a bit closer. We'll have to find them." She kissed him hard as he flipped them over so his body was covering hers. "It might take all night…You sure you're up to the task?" She mumbled between kisses. Harry laughed.

"I'm Harry Bloody Potter. I can do anything…"