Recuperation - 8

Harry scowled, pulling himself out of the bed. "I think I might need help reaching my back," he said, pouting.

"You'll manage. Besides, I didn't say we couldn't do our snogging down on the beach," she said before sprinting from the room, her laughter brightening the hallway.

After a quick shower and change, Harry met Ginny in the kitchen where they took the lunch Tuggy had prepared for them and brought it outside. The section of beach where they wanted to go was further down the road than their usual spot. Harry tied the picnic basket on the back of a worn old bicycle that was kept at the house. Ginny perched precariously on the handlebars while Harry pedaled down the lane. His arm really wasn't strong enough to support them, but he quietly cast both a Balancing Charm and a Motion Spell that allowed him to ride with very little effort.

Harry had been very wary about using any magic when he'd first arrived. He liked both Ted and Andromeda very much and wanted to stick to their rules. After the first few days, Andromeda had pulled him aside and basically told him not to be an idiot. She said not to do anything blatant in front of Muggles but to definitely use any spell to ease his comfort during his recovery. 'What's the use in having magic if you don't use it when you need it?' she'd asked. Harry thought it was rather rich coming from her since she was the one who'd told him not to use it the first place.

After the spells were cast, he and Ginny began their trek to the beach. He enjoyed their ride and could have spent the entire day just pedaling around – and that had nothing to do with the magic eliminating the work. He liked the way the sun warmed his skin, the carefree laughter he and Ginny shared, and the complete lack of aim or purpose. They'd get there when they got there, and it didn't really matter when. Harry thrilled at that newfound freedom.

It was later in the day while they were eating the elaborate meal that Tuggy had packed for them that a stray memory worked its way into his thoughts. He and Ginny had spread a blanket on the sand, and Ginny was digging through the basket as if she'd found a pirate's treasure. As Harry was well aware, all Weasleys liked to eat.

Ginny was wearing a very small – very sexy – black bikini that he knew wasn't on Mrs. Weasley's list of approved beachwear. His mouth had hung open, and he'd stood there gaping like a fish when she'd first removed the shorts and t-shirt she'd worn for their ride. The supremely satisfied smile on Ginny's face told him she appreciated his reaction.

He was exceedingly happy that Ginny was sneaky enough to keep the tiny bikini well hidden from both her mother and Ron, because Harry was enjoying watching her wear it immensely. When she pulled some chilled Pumpkin juice out of the basket and proceeded to pour it into gold-plated mugs, a shiver ran down Harry's spine. He shifted uncomfortably as stray thoughts and images flashed in his mind, making him feel dizzy as he tried to piece them together.

"All right, Harry?" Ginny asked, dropping one of the mugs so its contents spilled everywhere. Ignoring the spill, she moved to sit next to him, watching him closely. "What's wrong? You've lost all your color."

"Those mugs," he said, still staring at the gold while trying to make sense of his memories. Images flitted rapidly through his mind, making his head spin.