Two weeks, not 'weeks'! Oh well. Fine. You get another post. (*cough* Thank me on bended knee!!)


:cat:


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"I always thought Auror College would be the obvious choice," Ginny sighed, playing with a piece of wood she had picked up from the ground, "but that was before all of the fighting. I feel like I can't do that anymore; I don't want to anymore. I've had enough. Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't just open a bookshop or an Apothecary or something. But then again, I'd probably be bored out of my mind by the time I reach the age of twenty-five."

"No offence, Ginny, but I can hardly picture you working in a store like that," Harry laughed. "Unless it was the twins' Wizarding Wheezes, a shop seems a highly unlikely place for you to work in."

"And what do you know about it?" Ginny asked, eyebrows raised. "Maybe I'm exactly the type for that?"

"You're not."

Ginny started acting as if she was advertising products in a shop, then pulled out her purse and started counting the change for her fictional customer. Harry grinned, shaking his head. "You're not that type, Gin."

Ginny stopped in mid-gesture, looking at him queerly.

"What?" Harry asked apprehensively.

"Nothing," Ginny said slowly, still staring at him. "I just can't remember when you called me Gin for the last time."

Harry blinked, gazing back at her. "We haven't had much contact recently."

"No," Ginny replied, "we haven't." She paused, giving Harry time to reflect on her observation. He hadn't really thought about it. To call her 'Gin' had come naturally in that moment, like when he had first started calling her that, a few years back. She was playing with the twig again when she spoke. "Maybe we should change that."

"We should," Harry said, "definitely."

Ginny smiled at him, tucking a curl of her red hair behind her ear. "That's settled then."

"We only have to find a suitable job for you now."