Chapter 1 : Bottles Four, Nine and Twenty-Six
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Memories are in italics, real time is standard type...
Bottles Four, Nine and Twenty-Six
The moonlight streaming through the frosty panes of glass cast an iridescent glow on the carpet, sofa and other furniture in the carriage house loft. The same wash of light bathed the room’s lone occupants, highlighting the fine texture of their dress robes. The young couple didn’t normally wear dress robes as a matter of practice, but tonight was special. Special because for the first time in months the entire, extended Weasley family had gathered around Molly’s table, feasting on the lavish dinner so lovingly prepared by the Weasley matriarch. The dinner in and of itself was lovely, but the true reason for the gathering was a celebration of love.
January fourth was, to ninety-nine percent of the world an inauspicious day, but not for the Weasley clan numbering over twenty, or the Potter family, numbering just two. While the dinner and ensuing party was held at the Weasley family home, the Burrow, it was the Potter family that was being celebrated. The Potter family had been in existence for exactly one year, as of today, January fourth, two thousand-two. Harry and Ginny’s first anniversary was an event to be cherished. She was the only girl, of course, and he was the seventh son, the son not born to Molly and Arthur Weasley, but treated as though he were. Of course their anniversary would be reason to bring the family together.
After finishing dinner and returning Ron to his natural state, it seemed no matter the occasion George always tested some new product on an unsuspecting family member, the family retired to the sitting room to present Harry with the customary wizarding gift for a first anniversary. That gift now rested on the kitchen counter, basking in the moonlight, waiting to be opened.
Harry swayed slowly to the soft music flowing from the CD player; in one hand was a champagne flute almost three quarters full, the other lay gently against his wife’s waist, and snuggled against his muscular chest, was Ginny. She slipped a hand from around his waist and pulled the glass towards her lips for a sip. When she was finished Harry lifted their common glass to his own lips for a quick taste. He tilted his head down and the couple shared a champagne tinted kiss.
“Mmmm,” Ginny hummed as the kiss ended.
“Mmmm hmmm,” Harry murmured back as he initiated a second kiss.
Ginny’s smile broke the soft kiss. “A year, we’ve been married a year.”
“Yup, and I managed to get through another year without meeting your batty friends.”
“You do have great survival instincts,” Ginny laughed. Harry tilted the glass towards her and she took another sip of champagne. “Are you ready?”
“Sure, who should we do first?” Harry answered as he led his wife towards the kitchen counter, where a small wood box rested in close proximity to a carved stone basin about the size of a large serving bowling. The box was not much bigger than a loaf of bread; the rich walnut was carved intricately with ivy vines, leaves and grapes. The finish was glossy, hand rubbed lacquer, and small silver accents on each corner protected the corners of the delicate carvings.
Ginny set down the almost empty champagne flute and pressed the catch on the face of the box. The lid lifted on hidden springs, revealing the rich red velvet interior. Nestled safely in the padded box was a group of thirty-one small glass bottles, each bottle keeping its swirling silver contents secure.
“I think, of all the wizarding traditions, this is one of my favorites,” Ginny said softly. “It…it makes you remember your friends, and everyone who loves you.”
“So these memories are just from anyone who knew us?”
“No, the tradition is that everyone who attended our wedding has an opportunity to give a memory of one of us, or of us as a couple. The memories are gathered at the reception and then we get our first look at them on our first anniversary; tonight for us,” Ginny explained.
“So these should be romantic memories then?” Harry wondered aloud.
“For the most part they will be, but some might be funny or thoughtful.” Ginny fished through the bottles looking them over carefully. “I heard tell of a wizard that married into a wealthy family, but the bride’s parents didn’t necessarily care for him. They all gave him memories of her previous suitors.”
“Nooo,” Harry mumbled.
“I’m not sure it’s true. It sounds to me like those muggle stories we learned about, the urban legends, where the groom tapes the nudie pictures of the bride under the chairs after she cheats on him.” Ginny shrugged, checking the number of another bottle. “But aren’t all stories like that based on some part of the truth?”
“Maybe…Is this your way of telling me that I should expect the worst?” Harry asked hesitantly, now studying the glass vials very seriously.
“Chicken.” Ginny smirked. “How about bottles four, nine and twenty-six?”
“Huh? Four, nine…well how are we supposed to know whose they are?” Harry questioned incredulously.
“We don’t, that’s part of the fun. We see the memory and try to figure out whose it is.” Ginny set the three small bottles on the counter.
Carefully Ginny pulled the stopper on bottle four and poured its contents into Harry’s small pensieve. The memory swirled and shimmered before settling calmly. Harry took Ginny’s hand in his and leaned into the carved stone bowl.
Harry and Ginny fell into the memory, landing on a hard stone floor with a thud. The memory was still forming from the white mist surrounding them.
“Oww, you’d think a memory would be softer than that,” Ginny complained, standing up and rubbing her sore bum.
“You’d think…” Harry mumbled, looking around. “I think we’re in Hogwarts.”
The memory cleared and the cut stone walls of the castle shimmered into existence. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall ambled down the darkened corridor conversing about a new transfiguration textbook. The conversation continued as the professors turned the corner.
“I think this is the fourth floor, near the transfiguration classrooms,” Ginny surmised.
An oversized tapestry covered a large section of the left wall, suspended by thick bronze hooks. The nearly twelve foot tall tapestry hung clear to the floor and depicted a large medieval castle with the sun setting slowly behind it. Dumbledore and McGonagall continued on until the door to the spare transfiguration classroom slid into view on their right. While the door itself was unremarkable, the sounds emanating from the seldom used room were not.
“Hey, mmmm, careful…that tickles…” a throaty, but definitely feminine voice whispered, followed by a stifled giggle.
The professors stopped walking and stood quietly, listening to the exchange of words from behind the oaken door.
“Uhhh…sorry, didn’t mean it to tickle, meant it to feel like…” a deeper voice responded.
“Ohhh…Merlin…your hands…” the girl’s voice returned before the words stopped and the sound of soft kisses replaced them.
Professor McGonagall reached to pull the door open. “Minerva, don’t be so hasty. They are hardly breaking the rules with their…activities,” Dumbledore cautioned his peer. “And, without being too…”
The kissing stopped, and the sound of two cloaks dropping to the floor wafted from the gap between the door and the floor.
“You were saying Albus?” McGonagall questioned the headmaster.
More kisses ensued, followed by, “Ohhh, you’re so warm…smell so good…” the voice was masculine this time and quieted to the sounds of more kissing, the rustle of clothing, and the shifting of a desk.
Harry and Ginny grinned to each other as they watched their professors debate what to do.
“Well…as it is not yet curfew, do we have authority to invade their privacy? They are not, shall we say, being public…”
“But Albus…” McGonagall said, reaching again for the door pull.
“Minerva, they, whoever they are, have concealed themselves. And we have to consider exactly how they may feel if we intrude on their time alone.”
Harry chuckled, watching the memory unfold, as his headmaster tried in vain to let the couple making use of the abandoned classroom continue on with their romantic activities. Ginny held his arm tightly, laughing softly to herself, her laughter warming him from the inside. Harry wrapped an arm around her. “I never knew there was so much…discussion.” Harry whispered to Ginny.
“Ohhhh…don’t stop…please…” the boy’s voice croaked in pleasure before it faded and the kissing became more passionate. “Mmmmm…” he growled, “Merlin, your hands girl…”
“Albus, we need to, or dare I say should, protect the young lady’s virtue by halting this at once.” McGonagall pleaded.
“Minerva, I feel you are mistaken. I believe it is the young man’s virtue we should be protective of,” Dumbledore replied cheekily.
“None the less,” and without further hesitation, she pulled open the door to scold the parties involved. “Mr. Potter! Miss Weasley!” she gasped in total shock, staring at the memory Harry and Ginny. The memory Ginny had Harry pinned to a large unused desk. She was straddling his hips, his shirt was half unbuttoned and she had both hands on his chest, rubbing his pectoral muscles. Harry had one hand up the back of Ginny’s blouse and his other hand was kneading her bum, under her skirt.
Harry and Ginny both fell into a fit of laughter, watching the spectacle in the memory before them. “Look at your hair,” the real Ginny teased. Memory Harry’s hair was as sloppy and completely disheveled.
“Yeah, check yours out!” Harry retorted. Ginny’s hair was pulled partially out of its ponytail, the ribbon just barely holding on and threatening to come off completely. The wave of hair falling off her shoulder cascaded down the right side of her chest, covering the undone buttons of her blouse and most of her white silk bra.
The memory continued to play out.
“This classroom is intended for use by school administrators, NOT randy students eager to act upon their romantic desires!” McGonagall lectured the couple. Harry appeared to be mortified at being caught in a serious snogging effort, glancing around nervously. Ginny, for her part, seemed more proud of their progress than worried about possible punishment and stared at the interrupting professors unabashedly.
“Harry, Ginevra…I believe the wisdom Professor McGonagall is trying to impart on us is…There is a time and a place for everything.” He studied the two students before him, flushed with desire and longing for each other. “Obviously it is the time…it is just not the place.” The aging headmaster guided McGonagall from the doorway and closed the door, leaving the two students alone.
Live Harry and Ginny held each other firmly, laughing, and cuddling each other. “Merlin you looked sexy Gin. How did I ever resist you?” Harry’s question was left unanswered as the memory continued to unfold.
“Albus, why did you pull us away? Detention is in order for both of them!” McGonagall said vehemently. Dumbledore did not answer, leading her along the hallway in silence. “Albus! Answer my question!”
“Minerva, it appears to me that Mr. Potter has himself a girlfriend.” The headmaster grinned.
“Minerva, please…I understand detention was possibly in order, but I think, for now, that Harry should be allowed his freedom. We know his future is in doubt, he’s never had a normal life, he is seldom if ever truly happy…And if Miss Weasley can make him smile, as he just was, then I will not do anything at all to interfere.” Dumbledore stated softly but firmly.
“The boy was smiling like the cat that ate the canary wasn’t he?” she joked.
“He was...I believe Miss Weasley may be the best thing to ever happen to our young Mr. Potter.”
The memory faded to white mist and within a few seconds Harry and Ginny were returned to their loft.
“It looks so different seeing it from another viewpoint,” Harry commented.
“Yes, I always wondered why we didn’t get detention whenever she caught us.” Ginny remarked.
“So, that must have been McGonagall’s.” Harry concluded as he siphoned the memory out of the pensieve and slowly deposited the silvery strand back into the bottle.
“I think so too, ready for number nine?” Ginny asked, pouring the next memory into the pensive.
When Harry and Ginny dropped into this memory they both immediately recognized the surroundings, the Gryffindor common room. As usual, it was warm and cozy with fires blazing; the students present were all in Harry’s class or one below.
Dean, Seamus, Lavender, Parvati. Ginny, Colin, Neville and a few others Harry didn’t recognize, sat in a ring on the floor near the south side of the room. Various drinks and snacks littered the area. Among the drinks were several bottles of butterbeer, but the main drink of choice appeared to be muggle beer, being passed out by Seamus from an open case beside him. The group had been drinking for a while judging from their actions and words.
“Why are we here?” present day Harry questioned.
“Not sure, could be any one of this lots memory we’re seeing,” Ginny answered.
“Your turn Lavender,” Dean called out. Lavender reached forward and spun the bottle. Six revolutions later it slowed to a stop, pointing towards Colin.
Colin leaned forward; Lavender got up on her hands and knees and crawled to him. They kissed gently and returned to their spots.
Colin spun and the bottle stopped in front of the girl Harry didn’t know. The girl giggled and leaned over to kiss Colin.
Memory Ginny teased the girl “Marianne and Colin sitting in a tree…k-i-s-s-i-n-g.”
“What are you playing?” asked Harry.
“Spin the bottle, you never played?” Ginny responded a bit surprised.
“No, can’t say I ever did. So when it points to you, you have to kiss whoever spun it?”
“That’s the idea.” Ginny agreed.
Marianne spun the bottle and it again landed on Colin. They kissed again, longer this time.
“Berk…Damn Colin…gets more than anyone here. I think he jinxed the bottle.” Dean grumbled.
“Awww, poor Dean feels left out,” Ginny teased, punching Dean in the shoulder. “Here, see if I can help you out.” She leaned to her right and gave Dean a quick peck on the cheek. “All better?”
“Thanks Ginny…” The dark skinned boy smiled. “You know, we should go out.”
Harry, watching the memory, groaned.
“So you want to date me? You’d think a Gryffindor would be brave enough to ask,” Ginny smirked.
Colin ignored the looks being passed between the two of them and spun the bottle, it landed on Ginny. Ginny leaned over to kiss him too.
Live Harry interrupted Ginny watching the memory. “So this was before you and Dean were dating then?”
“Yes, I think about two maybe three weeks before we all raced off to the Department of Mysteries.” Ginny answered, still watching the memory unfurl. “You never played?”
“No, never…you lot had time for that stuff, I was always chasing after Voldemort, or trying to stay alive…” Harry answered nonchalantly. “So why…when a girl spins does it always land on a boy and vice versa?”
“We charmed the bottle. The blokes wanted it left to chance, they all liked the idea that two girls might kiss, until I pointed out that it was possible that two blokes would have to kiss. That ended the argument.” Ginny explained.
Ginny’s spin signaled Colin, and Colin again reaped the rewards of his good fortune. “Damn…little blondie is lucky at this,” Seamus grumbled. By this time everyone was drinking at least their second or third beer. Seamus was on his fifth and was more inebriated than any of the others. Colin spun again and the bottle pointed to Parvati. After a kiss she spun and to everyone’s surprise, or not, it once again faced Colin.
“He’s cheating…the little bugger.” Neville sighed, wincing as he saw Colin linger over the second kiss with Parvati.
Colin spun again, and the bottle pointed to another girl Harry was unfamiliar with. She spun and the bottle landed on Dean. The pair kissed chastely and Dean spun the bottle.
This time it signaled Ginny.
“Finally!” he crowed happily. Ginny blushed at his reaction. Unlike the previous kisses witnessed, both Dean and Ginny hesitated as they drew closer. This kiss was about much more than just a game.
“Bloody hell, I’m gonna have to watch your first real kiss with Dean?” Harry grumbled.
“Aww stuff it Harry.” Ginny said defensively.
Memory Ginny and Dean rubbed noses before tilting their heads and kissing sweetly. The kiss was longer than any of the other kisses so far. As the first kiss ended, Dean initiated a second deeper kiss that Ginny willingly accepted.
“Nice kiss,” murmured Dean after slowly pulling away from the second kiss. Ginny sat up straighter, smiling shyly.
Live Ginny smiled, regardless of how things worked out, that first kiss with Dean was sweet and romantic. She braced herself for the rest of the memory.
The loving moment was utterly and thoroughly destroyed when Seamus bellowed. “Tha’s not a kiss, THIS is a kiss!” He pulled Ginny around and planted an open mouth kiss on her face, his tongue lashed out across her lips and he completed the kiss with a loud slurping sound before smacking his lips closed on hers. “Now that’s how ya kiss a bird like Ginny.” Seamus gloated.
“No offense Seamus, but I feel like I just got kissed by the world’s largest flobberworm.” Ginny commented, wiping Seamus’ saliva from her lips and chin disgustedly. The rest of the group wailed in laughter.
The memory faded into white mist and then reappeared in the Gryffindor boy’s dorm.
Harry and Ron sat on Ron’s bed. Seamus was sitting between them, head down in dejection.
“I’ve blown it,” Seamus mumbled drunkenly. “Messed it all up, ruined any chance before we even get started…” he whined pathetically.
“Look, Seamus,” Ron began, “we all know how you are. As long as you apologize first thing in the morning you might still have a chance.”
“Easy for you to say, Hermione just keeps waiting for you,” Their Irish friend complained.
“Huh?” Ron responded unsurely.
“Jeanette will never speak to me again,” Seamus complained.
“Wow, Seamus was really drunk wasn’t he?” Real life Ginny observed. “When is this?”
“The party after we won the quidditch cup my sixth year,” Harry answered.
“After our kiss?” Ginny smiled. “Now THAT was a kiss.” she leaned affectionately on Harry’s shoulder. He squeezed her hand in reply.
“Yeah, later that night. You and I’d gone outside and then came back to the party. So this was close to ten o’clock that night. He’d been drinking the whole time. He was smashed.” Harry reviewed the events as he remembered them.
“What happened?” Harry asked Seamus.
“I was comin’ back from the kitchens, and Jeanette was on the sixth floor landing. I went up to talk to her, you know, give ‘er the old Seamus charm… and I kind of tripped. The tray of food slipped out of my hand and dumped all over her,” he grumbled
“Well, that’s just bad luck,’ Harry countered.
“Yeah, but that’s not the bad part. See, I wanted to help, so I pulled my wand out,” Seamus recounted the experience. The other boys groaned. “Not that wand you tossers…my magical one…and in my stupor I managed to mispronounce the cleaning charm.”
“And?” Ron gasped.
“I turned her hair green.” Seamus buried his head in his hands again.
“Look Seamus, like I said before, that’s just a run of bad luck. I’ve talked to her before, she’s a Hufflepuff, kind of tall, right?” Harry offered.
“Well, I’ll just pop over to their common room and try to explain things for you, try to smooth it over until you can talk to her tomorrow, yeah?” Harry said calmly, trying his best to cheer up his friend.
Seamus bounded from the bed and awkwardly grabbed Harry in a crushing hug. “Thanks Harry, you’re tops… you’re a beautiful man.” He finished his lofty praises by drunkenly kissing Harry full on the mouth.
“Ewwww!” All the boys cried in unison.
“Semaus, never… I repeat never… never ever… kiss me again,” Harry declared forcefully. His roommates all continued to howl with laughter.
The memory faded to white again before it shifted for a second time.
Live Harry and Ginny looked around and recognized the setting as their reception. Seamus was talking to Ron, who was holding the carved box. About ten vials of memories had been collected already.
Seamus turned to Ron. “This’ll get a rise out of them,” Seamus said through a laugh before continuing. “Harry, Ginny, I love you both. You are the best friends a bloke could have, especially a bloke like me who tends to drink too much and talk too loud. I’m happy the two of you are getting married, so you can kiss and shag all you want, whenever you want, wherever you want.”
Harry and Ginny smiled at the memory. “He is a great friend,” Ginny commented.
“He is that,” Harry agreed, focusing on the last bit of memory playing out.
Seamus grinned. “Ya know, I’m not sure how many people here have kissed both of you on the mouth, but I figure it’s a pretty exclusive club… And, sorry Harry, but Ginny kisses better…”
The memory faded away as Harry and Ginny laughed out loud at the last bit of their friend’s memory. The couple gazed into each others eyes for a second before closing what little distance laid between them and kissed; slowly at first, but then deeper. After a good five minute snog, they released each other.
“You kiss better than Seamus,” Harry joked.
“So do you love, so do you,” Ginny chuckled.
“So, number twenty-six to go then?” Harry asked as he returned Seamus’ bottle back to the box, and retrieved the third vial, marked twenty-six. He removed the glass stopper and let the silvery contents slip down into the pensieve. After letting the memory settle he took Ginny’s hand and the pair of them pressed their faces into the swirling contents.
The now familiar white mist enveloped the couple as the memory began. The mist was soon replaced by the unmistakable vision of green flames, with Harry and Ginny’s carriage house loft visible through the jade tinted fire.
Memory Ginny was busily dusting the end table by the sofa. Her hair was in a hastily piled bun, loose strands fell to her shoulders and across the well worn ‘Chasers go all game long’ T-shirt. The shirt itself was partially tucked into her faded and torn jeans.
“Msss Gineee!” Teddy squealed in delight running towards her.
Ginny quickly turned to face him and caught the small boy easily as he leapt into her open arms. “Ohhh, it is so good to see you Larry,” Ginny said teasingly.
“Uhh uhhh, I’m Teddy, not Larry!” Teddy declared.
“Are you sure?” Ginny leaned her head back and focused a steady stare at her Godson. “Hmmm, you’re right! You aren’t Larry…you’re Matt!”
“No, no, no!” wailed Teddy. “Not Matt… Teddy!”
Ginny squinted and tilted her head. “Sooo…not Matt either…maybe you’re Brian!” she laughed before nuzzling her nose to his neck and blowing a giant raspberry.
“Awww, Ginn-eee... it’s me, Teddy!” He pulled her head up until he had her undivided attention and then turned his hair the same vibrant auburn color of Ginny’s.
Ginny smiled brightly. “Ohhh, Teddy Lupin…” she replied as if the recognition was dawning on her for the first time and pulled him closer. “Hey buddy we missed you last weekend, glad you’re feeling better.”
Teddy squirmed down and chased after Arnold, whom he’d spotted near the windowsill of the large picture window overlooking the front yard. The miniature puffeskin quickly fled the area in a bid for self preservation.
“Teddy, careful with him, you’re getting awfully strong now…pet him nice, OK?” Ginny called after him.
“OK” Teddy’s voice came from the spare room.
“Hello Ginny dear, how are you.” Andromeda asked as she set Teddy’s weekend bag on the sofa.
“Fine, how are you doing?” Ginny hugged the older woman.
Teddy emerged from the spare room, gently carrying Arnold. Arnold hummed happily as Teddy carefully petted the purple fluffball.
“I’m doing well…I have a busy day, so I’ll leave you to it then. Have fun.” Andromeda smiled at the pretty young woman. “Bye Teddy, love you, be good for Harry and Ginny.”
“By Gramma,’ Teddy called as Mrs. Tonks flooed away. He turned to Ginny. “Can we make bizz-kits?”
“Sure, come on to the kitchen.”
Real Harry and Ginny watched as Teddy and memory Ginny began making the dough for the biscuits.
“Ok, so we need the flour to put on the baking sheets.” Ginny said absently, as she placed the milk in the cooler.
“Whooof! EEK!” Teddy screeched.
Harry and Ginny laughed out loud.
The memory Teddy spilled an entire canister of flour onto the countertop as he tried to pour a small bit out on the baking sheets. The large mushroom shaped cloud of white powder quickly clouded their vision.
“Teddy!” shrieked Ginny.
“Sorry… I fix it!” Teddy replied quickly and he began pushing the powder off the edge of the countertop to the floor, creating another cloud of flour.
“Noooo,” Ginny cried, let me help you. She crouched down and pulled her wand to cast a quick cleaning spell.
“Sorry, Ginn-ee, I’ll put the can away.” He tried his best to pick up the now half full canister of flour, but it slipped from his dry, powder covered hands and slid across the counter, teetering for a moment, before tilting off the edge and landing squarely on Ginny’s head.
“OW!” she yelped in surprise. She quickly popped up from behind the counter. Her bun now hung more alongside her head than on top of it, her normally gloriously red hair was now white, with hints and streaks of red. The flow of flour down her forehead covered her nose and cheeks as well, before covering her chest.
Teddy attempted to look sad, but couldn’t help himself, and giggled at her. “Ginn-ee, yer all white and messy!”
“Oh yeah mister!” she laughed back and tossed a handful of flour at him, hitting him squarely in the shoulder.
“Hey” he grabbed a handful of flour too and the food fight began.
Ginny clutched to Harry as she laughed at the memory. In retrospect it had been one of her favorite Teddy visits, and it was about to get better.
“Shhhhh.” Ginny shushed the flour covered boy. “I think I just heard Harry apparate in to the garage downstairs.” She listened intently, and nodded her head. “Teddy!” she whispered. “Grab the jar of flour and come here!”
Teddy grabbed the canister of flour and the two of them waited behind the door for an unsuspecting Harry to enter the loft.
‘Click,’ the lock disengaged, the doorknob twisted and Harry stepped though the door. Ginny immediately tackled him and Teddy doused him in flour.
“What the bloody he…” he caught himself before finishing the curse. Ginny was now wrestling around trying to tickle his ribs. Teddy was hanging on his neck giggling crazily. Another steady haze of baking flour arose as the two cohorts in crime ambushed Harry.
The wrestling continued, flour splattering and dropping all over the floor of the loft. After a good ten minutes of wrestling the trio ended up with Harry on his back, Teddy resting crossways on his chest and Ginny leaning over the two of them, all three grinning madly with white faces, hair and clothing. A slightly purple, mostly white, flour covered Arnold stood shakily on Ginny’s shoulder, licking a bit of batter from her hair.
Teddy sighed softly, snuggling into Harry’s chest. “Papa Harry, Ginn-ee… I wuv you…”
“We love you too Teddy,” Harry and Ginny replied together, each kissing the flour covered boy and squeezing him gently.
The memory was over and slowly the milky wisps of the memory evaporated, revealing the loft kitchen, with the stone pensieve resting on the countertop.
Harry smiled and wiped a tear from his eye. “You know, for all the times we’ve taken him to quidditch, or the carnival, or to the beach, or the broom races… that’s the one he remembered…just the three of us goofing off and wrestling in flour.”
“Well, they say it’s the simple things that matter, don’t they?” Ginny commented. “You know though, any time I remember that I always grin like an idiot. It was a lot of fun.”
“Yeah, it was.” Harry tipped his wand into the pensive and withdrew the memory, placing it carefully back into bottle twenty-six.
Ginny stepped forward and wrapped her husband into a hug. He returned the gesture and the couple cast a glance at the wooden box full of memories. “Well, Mr. Potter, did you have any other plans or particular ideas on how we might continue to celebrate our anniversary?” Ginny asked seductively.
“Honesty, Ginny, I’d like to see some more of these.” He gestured open handed towards the thirty-one glass vials of silvery memories.
“We can view more of them later, after we celebrate in a more…intimate way…” Ginny corrected him with a full kiss and a squeeze of his bum.
“Yeah…yeah, they can wait until…later…”
A/N so there you go. I’ll be updating this as I come up with more memories to use. As the title says, thirty-one bottles, I’d like to dream up thirty-one memories to go with them. To those familiar with Learning to Live Again, this is not the sequel promised. It is what I’m writing as I try to get that story sorted out. Thanks for reading.
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