*A/N: See author's note below either before or after reading story for any questions. Always feel free to email me with complaints, questions or anything else. :) Hope you enjoy...
"Hermione…blue bra or black bra?" I ask, turning to a bored looking Hermione. She doesn't look up and I cluck impatiently. "Hermione! Please focus!"
She looks up and gives me an annoyed glance. "Why do you care which bra you're wearing, Ginny? Isn't this a first date? Isn't that a bit improper?"
"Improper….Shrimpshopper," I said with a roll of my eyes. "I can't believe I don't have a single matching knicker set! I have to choose between my Quidditch knickers with all the holes in them, or the ones with the rip."
"Maybe it's time for some new knickers?" Hermione asks, not looking up from her book.
"Oh, hardy har har," I snap. She stays quiet until she can get a little dig in, then she's back to her book again, just like that. I swear. Some people.
Doesn't she realize the importance of tonight? This will be mine and Harry's first real date in over a year! This is the first date all couples go on. Our children will ask us what our first date was like. I can't tell them, Well, Mummy and Daddy went out to dinner and Mummy was in her holey underwear. That would be plain wrong!
Plus, Hermione should know more than anyone how much I've missed Harry. I've wanted this date more than I've ever wanted anything in my entire life. Even more than the breasts I was promised by Mum's bosom, but never got.
From the very moment the War ended, I waited. Patiently, of course. I had to be patient. I had to give him his time and his space and let him properly wrap his head around it. He certainly had a lot that he was going to be dealing with. The most important thing, however, was that Voldemort was dead and there was no longer the threat of him looming above our heads like a prat.
It was probably minutes after seeing Harry and knowing everything was okay, that I wanted to run to him, grab his arm and scream, "You promised! Remember? Now we can be together! LET'S BE TOGETHER!" But I knew that probably wasn't quite what he wanted to hear at that moment. So, I waited.
Two whole weeks to be exact that I waited. It nearly drove me to madness. I saw him every single day of those two weeks. We would pass each other in the hallway, our shoulders awkwardly rubbing against one another and pretend as though it wasn't killing each other not to be together.
It was even more awkward than when we actually broke up. It was supposed to be awkward then. It was allowed to be awkward then. An entire year afterwards? Not so much.
I remember those first days after breaking up with Harry. It had been murder, but at least I didn't have to look at him every single day…until he came to the Burrow. Sitting across the table from him, pretending he never had his tongue down my throat and his hand up my shirt (at the same time, sometimes) was even worse. I felt like a liar and hypocrite to say, "Pass the salt, please, Harry," and act as though I didn't want to say, "Pass the salt, please, Harry, and pretend you've ever heard me moan, thank you."
A part of me expected him to saunter up to me in front of everyone, throw his arms around me and plant one hell of a kiss on me. The kiss of all kisses. The kiss I'd tell my children about. What I didn't expect he'd do is, as he's walking past me, sigh and pat me on the head before heading up to bed. Like a dog. He patted me on the head like I was a fucking dog. I nearly killed him then and there. I nearly pulled out my wand and killed him in front of my entire family. I would have laughed my happy ass to jail, too! It wasn't until Hermione confessed to me that he didn't think it was proper to try and start a relationship with me while he was living here. He thought it might give my parents the wrong idea about us. I didn't expect him to shag me at the table in the middle of breakfast, but I did expect him to be my sweet boyfriend again. He movied in with Remus and Tonks over two months ago, so I was beginning to think that perhaps that wasn't it, either.
And then, just when I was giving up all hope. Just when I was planning on becoming a spinster and living in the Burrow for the rest of my life, taking care of my parents and watching my siblings go off towards adult-hood, it happened. Harry sat down next to me on the couch one night. He let our legs touch for the first time in a year. He let his hand graze mine the first time in a year. He turned to me and, as the room slowed to a still and all sound left except for my heartbeat thumping a mile a minute, he said, "I'm in love with you, Ginny."
I felt my face split into the widest, silliest grin I could have possibly made. I must have looked like a frigging weirdo, but I didn't care. It felt as though my face was going to slice right down the middle from pure bliss. Those sweet, sweet words had just been uttered. Harry Potter had admitted his love and it involved my name and he was clenching my hand. He had never told me he loved me. I don't even know if I thought he did or not. I couldn't remember. All I knew was that he had said it.
"I love you, too," I finally managed after what felt like a lifetime.
A look of relief spread across his face and then he leaned over and he kissed me. It had been almost a year since we had kissed. It felt so glorious and so wonderful, I could have melted right into the couch, had it not been for his grip on my arm pulling me closer to him.
My immediate want was to go up to my room and just completely give in to the aching pulse going throughout my body, but I soon realized that Harry wasn't like that. When we were together, there were so few times that we were actually alone. There were so few times where I was able to get more than a chaste kiss out of him from Ron's watchful glaring. I so yearned to return to the only memory I have of actually going any further with him.
One day after we had finished studying and doing homework, we decided to take a walk around the grounds before dinner. The farther we walked from the castle, the fewer people we saw, until we were soon the only people around. We came to a stop and sat down in the cool grass. Like two magnets that get too close, we were suddenly stuck to each other.
When we were away from everyone else, when there were no watchful gazes lingering over our heads, it was so wonderful. And, I must admit, Harry would take control and lead things along in such a fantastic manner. All I had to do was kiss back.
Well, I'll just cut to the chase. He scooted his hand up my shirt a bit and I let out the most embarrassing sound in the entire world and he didn't break up with me. Well…until he broke up with me. Three days later. I still don't think it was a coincidence.
Anyway, soon after our kiss on the couch Harry asked me out on our second first date. I happy accepted. I spent the entire day trying on everything I owned.
Now, I have finally narrowed it down to a dress with little cap sleeves or a dress with little straps that kind of criss cross in the back. Well, they don't kind of crisscross. They do crisscross. God, I'm nervous.
I yank off my shorts and pull my dress up my body. The little cap sleeves rest on my shoulder. I twist and turn in the mirror, trying to find faults. They sleeves make my arms look a bit pudgy…which in turn makes my body look disproportionate. They color (lavender) is quite flattering on my body, though. It does not clash with my wild red hair, and that is a major plus.
"Hermione? Yay or nay?" I turn around to face her. I pull at the dress, trying desperately to get it to fit me just so.
Hermione glances up from her book again and rests her eyes on me.
"Very nice, Ginny," she says with a smile. "I like the color on you."
"Better than the black dress?" I ask, glancing down at it.
"Yes, I think so."
"Ok…" I turn back to the mirror and suck in a deep breath. I turn again to my side. "Well, do you like this bra or should I wear the push up bra?"
"What does the push up bra look like?" she asks.
"This." I press my boobs together and then up, making considerable cleavage.
"Oh dear Lord," she snaps. "Harry doesn't need to see all that!"
"What makes you think he hasn't?" I ask with a slight crook of my eyebrow.
Hermione fixes me with a filthy look and snaps, "He hasn't."
I sigh. She is such a know it all. Of course Harry hasn't seen them. Yet. He hasn't seen them yet.
"Ok. Purple dress, granny bra, holey knickers." I pause. "I'm changing."
"Into what?" Hermione asks, coming off of the bed to stand next to me.
"Something sexier," I reply.
Hermione sighs. "You look fine."
"I feel like my mother picked this outfit out for me," I say, pouting just a bit. I do not own any sexy clothing. I could never imagine my Mum buying me a black lace bra or even black knickers! She says they make me look like a Scarlet woman and my worth shouldn't be measured by the color of my knickers. Easy for her to say, though! She's been married since before the start of time to a man who simply adores her. I am starting fresh with a boy I am madly, deeply, truly in love with. If I do not feel comfortable, how can I have a good time?
"Ginny, trust me and believe me when I say what I am going to say." She twists me around to face her and I do so with raised and expectant eyebrows. "Harry would still like you if you gained a bunch of weight or if you got bald or if you went blind. He likes the person that you are, not what you're wearing! He would rather you look like this, which is beautiful, than boobs up to your chin and way too much make up. That isn't you and that isn't him. You're gorgeous and stuck in this body, so you mine as well get used to it."
I smile gratefully at her. She always knows the exact thing to say.
"Thank you, Hermione," I say, touching her shoulder.
"You're welcome." She picks up my brush. "Sit down. I'll brush your hair out."
"Okay."
I sit down in front of my mirror as Hermione takes her place in back of me. She slowly begins to brush my hair out with soft, gentle strokes.
She is very much like my sister. After the War ended, she and Ron got together almost immediately. I didn't ask for all the dirty details, but Hermione has blushingly admitted that they have "done it" already. Surprisingly, I was not as grossed out as I imagined I would have been. I'm incredibly happy that they have finally gotten together. It was about damn time.
It did make it a bit hard, though, when Harry and I were trying to sort out our own relationship. They did not flaunt it in front of our faces (for that would be grounds for a beating), but they would do sweet little stuff that broke my heart. Hermione would gaze lovingly at him from across the table, or plant a kiss at Ron's temple when they passed each other. Ron would pick her flowers from the garden and give them to her, or take her for an after dinner walk by the lake.
These things were things Harry and I were supposed to do to each other and for each other. Instead, we were tip-toeing around one another as though to come too close to contact would cause a bomb to go off in the house. I know that I had to wait. I knew what he was going through and I was willing to wait for as long as possible, I'm just glad that it is finally happening.
I do not know what will come of this date. On one side of the spectrum, it could be a complete disaster and we never see each other again. However, on the complete other side, it could go wonderfully. It could be the last first date I ever have.
"There," Hermione says. "Beautiful. Want me to do your make up?"
I smile. "Yeah."
My hair is now hanging down past my shoulders in a dark crimson sheath. It looks silky and shiny and absolutely beautiful. It never looks like this when I do my hair. I let it get all mangled and messy.
Hermione nudges me. "Push your chair back a bit, please," she says and nudges me again.
I slide back and she comes to stand in front of me with a Muggle make up brush in her hand.
"Lean your head back just a bit," she says, her voice soft.
I comply and close my eyes. I feel the brush move over my eyelids and feel my body lose some of its tension. I feel it roll from the knot in my neck, down my shoulders, down my back, down my legs and out my toes.
"Ginny! Harry's here!" Mum calls from down stairs.
Suddenly the tension comes screaming back, running up my toes, legs, back, shoulder and landing back in its proper place at the base of my neck. My head snaps up and I feel the brush in Hermione's hand accidentally drag across my eyelid down onto my face.
"Oh, shoot! Don't move, Ginny!" Hermione says.
"He's here! I'm not ready and he's here!"
"Calm down! Let me get that purple off of your face."
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," I hiss. My legs start bounding around in the chair and my palms begin to sweat. "Does my face look alright?"
"Your face looks fine, like it has for the past eighteen, almost nineteen, years." Hermione rolls her eyes. "Goodness, was I this batty when I went out with Ron?"
"Worse, remember?" I snap. "I had to grab you a bag to breathe into!"
"Oh, shh!" Hermione snaps. "There. You're done."
I look past her to stare at myself in the mirror. My mouth drops open a bit. She's done something around my eyes to make the brown stand out a bit more. My lips look nice and plump and my freckles do not look as angry.
"Thanks, Hermione!" I say with a happy smile. "I look gorgeous."
She gives me a satisfied smile. "Of course you do. Now hurry up. Put some shoes on."
"Fuck!"
"What now?"
"Shoes!"
"Yeah…And?"
"I never thought about shoes!"
"For the love of Merlin! Just pick out a pair! He won't be staring at your feet!"
I run to my closet and throw it open. Shoes and clothes and other various things are scattered about in a haphazard manner. I bite my lip and look for my white sandals. I find one almost instantly, but the other hides. I rummage through a pile of clothes until I find it.
I sit on my bed and fasten both buckles. I run my hand up my legs to ensure they are smooth. I life my arm up to smell my armpits and then cup my hands and breath into them to check my breath.
"Are you all set?" Hermione asks.
"Yes. I think so."
"Come on then."
I grab my little white purse which is packed full with mints (just in case I have something garlicy or gross at the restaurant) and follow Hermione down the stairs. My heart is thudding wildly into my chest. I look satisfactory on the outside, and if it weren't for my gross, holey knickers, I'd feel a little better.
"Hi, Harry," Hermione says.
I have only a split second to prepare myself for the sight of him before Hermione steps down the last step and I am forced to look up at him.
I haven't seen him in about two days. His hair is messy as always, but it looks as though he tried a bit to tame it. He's wearing a nice button down shirt and dark jeans. My breath hitches slightly when I see him.
I walk down the last step and come to stand across from him. Mum and Dad are standing by the fireplace and Hermione and Ron are standing in the doorway of the kitchen, pretending not to be listening.
"Hey," I say, breathless. Harry looks absolutely dashing. My hand immediately goes to my hair to see if it is still smooth and soft. If all goes as plan tonight, Harry's hands should be lost in my hair tonight.
"Hi." His faces breaks out into a bashful grin that makes my stomach jump, as though I missed the last stair. "You look…gorgeous. Beautiful."
Don't tell him you've got holey knickers on, don't tell him you've got holey knickers on, don't—
"I've got holey knickers on," I blurt out. I instantly feel my face turn a bright red. Another classic case of verbal diarrhea on my part.
Mum makes a little noise of disbelief in the back of her throat, throws me a filthy look, as though that were meant to be a come on to Harry and says, "Well, you two better get going. Don't want to be late."
"Right," I say, moving forward slightly.
"I won't have her back late," Harry informs my parents.
"It's fine," Mum says with a warm smile. "No curfew tonight, loves."
I give my mother a look of disbelief. Just two days ago when I wanted to go into Diagon Alley to get a new outfit (and some new bloody knickers!), Mum had a fit!
"You absolutely can NOT go into Diagon Alley alone!" She had yelled, flinging dishes into the sink. I jumped and gave her an incredulous look.
"Mum, I'll be back before lunch! I promise! Cross my heart and hope to die!" I said, crossing my heart for emphasis. She simply threw me a furious glare.
"And what happens if some drunken bum on the streets corners you and forces himself upon you?" she asked. She looked terrified at the thought.
"A drunken bum? In Diagon Alley? At eleven o'clock on a Thursday morning?" I asked. I could have almost laughed at where her mind immediately went. "Well, I guess I'd take out my sword and stab him and turn him into fairy dust, or whatever the hell drunken bums turn into in La La Land where he apparently lives!"
"Watch your mouth!" Mum snapped.
"I won't be raped buying a new dress, Mum," I snapped back. "I have to go. This is very important to me."
She was just about to cave in (or so I thought) when Charlie walked in.
"Hey, Mum. Hey, Gin." Charlie came into the kitchen, fresh from the shower and grabbed an apple. He bit into it and leaned against the counter. "What?" he asked Mum.
I, too, wanted to ask Mum why she was looking at Charlie like that. She had a huge grin on her face and when she turned to me, I could see a satisfied look in her eye.
"Charlie doesn't have anything to do this afternoon, do you, Charlie?" she asked sweetly.
He shrugged. "Not that I can think of off the top of my head." His mood changed. "Why?" He was suddenly defensive.
"Ginny wants to go into Diagon Alley and I feel uncomfortable with her going alone," Mum said. "Want to go with her?"
I wildly shook my head no, and tried to warn Charlie while Mum had her attention directed at him.
"Uh, yeah, I guess so. I don't have anything else to—What are you trying to say, Ginny?"
I gave a growl of annoyance. "Nothing." I folded my arms moodily. "Charlie, please tell Mum that I do not need to be followed around Diagon Alley like a child!"
"I think Mum has a point, Ginny," Charlie replied. I could have slapped him in the face. "You'd be better off if I came with you. I'll even take you out to lunch."
"Really, Charlie, I don't need—"
"Ginny." Mum's voice cut through like a knife. "Go with Charlie or do not go at all." She raised one eyebrow. "If you can't buy something in front of your brother then perhaps you shouldn't be buying it at all."
I felt my cheeks tinge up with my anger and embarrassment. Mum does my laundry, so of course she knows all about my holey knickers.
The long and the short of it was that I spent the entire afternoon in Diagon Alley walking past plenty of shops were I could get sexy knickers, and had to pretend I didn't want them.
However, I must not complain. It could be worse tonight. Mum and Dad could have insisted that I be home by ten or eleven. As long as Harry has me home by a reasonable time, I think perhaps this summer may get a little more interesting.
"Ready?" Harry asks, inching towards me.
"Yes," I say. I cringe at the way my voice sounds. I can't seem to make it sound normal and instead find myself sounding rather out of breath and flustered. It doesn't help that Harry's hand is suddenly encasing mine and I'm blushing like I am twelve years old again.
"Night, Mum. Night, Dad," I say, turning back to them with a smile. Dad gives me a nod and a wave and then puts his arm around Mum. Mum looks as though she may start crying and I begin to walk out of the house a bit faster.
When we get out into the warm, damp summer air, I turn to him briefly. Feeling my eyes upon him, he turns to me, gives me a sort of embarrassed smile and then says, "I thought we could go for dinner in Diagon Alley?"
"That sounds lovely," I reply. "Did you want to go back inside and Floo?"
"No, it's alright. We can Apparate together. Piggy-back style." Harry pauses when I frown. "It's not like…sexual or anything."
I make a noise in the back of my throat. "Huh?"
"Nothing, nothing!" Harry's neck and cheeks are turning red. He holds out his hand. "We'll Apparate together."
"You know how to?" I ask. "Like really know how to? You won't drop my hand somewhere over London or leave half of me behind, will you?"
"I'll try not to!" Harry says.
"I was kidding," I reply.
"Oh." He gives a short laugh. "Ok."
I take his hand and feel my feet lift off the ground. Our shoulders knock into each other's and soon enough we come to land (quite awkwardly) in the middle of Diagon Alley. And when I say land, I mean Harry lands on his feet and I trip over my own feet and land flat on my stomach. I feel my dress fly up past my bum and before I can fix it myself, Harry yanks it back down and brings me up onto my two feet.
My face is burning red as I say, "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, thank you," I say. "Gosh, that was embarrassing."
"Don't be embarrassed," Harry says quickly. He looks me directly in the eye and gives me a comforting smile. "I've done stuff like that more times than I can count. I had my own bed in the school infirmary, remember?"
I give a small, embarrassed laugh and reply, "Yes, I remember."
We walk down the crowded streets in relative silence. Harry does not mention the holey underwear, for which I am grateful, but I know that he saw it. I can't stop replaying that moment when I fell and my dress hiked up. I cringe every time. Harry must think I am some sort of disgusting person who never buys new knickers and—
"Gin?"
"Huh?" I turn to him suddenly.
"We're here," he says.
"Oh. Right. Okay."
"I've never been in here before. It got good reviews as far as I can tell…"
He hovers for a brief moment before opening the door for me.
I feel Harry's hand on one of my shoulders as he leads me into the dim restaurant. We go to the woman behind a little podium. There is a small light bent over a book with scribbled names.
"Hello," Harry says to her. "Black, part of two."
"Black…Black…Ah, yes. Here you are." She grabs two menus from next to her and walks around the podium. Within a second she sizes up my outfit before turning on her heel and leading us through the room. I self consciously glance down at my dress and wipe some dirt off of it. I notice my knee is skinned. Apparently the burn of humiliation is greater than the burn of uprooted skin.
"You didn't use your real name?" I ask quietly to Harry as the waitress walks off.
"I didn't want this turning into a circus."
"I see." I give him a little smile. "That was probably best."
I glance around at the people around us. They are all talking quietly amongst themselves, completely oblivious that they will now always be a part of my memories. I will always remember this moment, sitting across from Harry with my skinned knee and rumpled dress. The way he is looking across the table at me is not something I'll soon forget, either.
He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it as someone approaches the table.
A waiter comes up to us. "Can I get you anything to drink?"
"Champagne," Harry says, giving me a quick look. "Is that alright?"
"Mhmm," I say, nodding. "Lovely."
"Great, I'll be right back." The waiter walks off and Harry and I fall into horrible silence.
I stare across from him and desperately try to think of something to say. There are no topics of conversation that come to my mind except WHY IS THIS SO AWKWARD WITH YOU?
I can not understand why Harry and I are off to such a bumpy start. We used to be such fun together and there was never an awkward pause or silence. It seems as though the War and the break up took a lot of what we had to say to one another. I am now afraid we will never get it back. Perhaps we were not meant to date out in the public? Perhaps we were not meant for a real relationship outside of Hogwarts?
Fuck that!
I am sitting across from the man of my dreams. This will work or I will die trying. Now say something Ginevra! Speak, God damn it!
I open my mouth to say something and Harry's head snaps up hopefully, but the waiter swiftly returns with the champagne. He places it in front of us. I watch the bubbles rise in the glass.
For the love of Merlin! Bubbles rising in my glass of champagne are the most interesting things happening tonight on this date. This is not good. Something has to be done! Isn't this like a first impression? If we do not define the extent of our relationship now, then what will happen? Will we live out our lives in awkward silence?
No!
We will not get any further than this because if we can not even feel comfortable enough to talk to one another then I am sure as hell not doing this again. We should fall right into a rhythm and a stride. I always imagined our relationship would be easy and we wouldn't have to work at it.
The waiter leaves and again we plummet into awful silence. It slowly begins to fill the air around us until it is swirling around my head like angry wasps. I watch Harry sip his drink and give me an awkward smile. He opens his mouth to say something, but seems to change his mind.
"What are you thinking of ordering?" I ask. My voice sounds strange in the silence.
"Oh, um…I'm not sure yet," Harry says.
My shoulders slump when he does not elaborate or, I don't know, begin a conversation.
"This isn't going well," Harry says suddenly.
"No," I reply, straightening up.
"Why are we being so awkward with each other?" he asks, looking at me pleadingly. "This shouldn't be so awkward! We know each other!"
"I know!" I say. I smile at him in relief. "Thank goodness you feel the same way! I was afraid you didn't think there was anything wrong!"
"Are you kidding? This is the most painful thing I've ever had to sit through!" He laughs.
"Maybe we should get the check?" I say. "This restaurant is stuffy."
"A bit pretentious," Harry agrees with a wide smile. "I have an idea that might salvage this shit night."
"Ok…" I say slowly. "What?"
"Do you like hamburgers?"
Twenty minutes later, Harry and I are sitting on the shore of this peaceful little lake with full stomachs. I'm ashamed at how fast I have eaten two hamburgers and a large fry. My vanilla milkshake it sitting in the sand. Harry conjured a blanket for us to lay on.
We lay together, our shoulders touching.
"I'm glad we're doing this," I say into the peaceful silence. It isn't as awkward anymore. Real dates like that do not need to define us, I decide. We're more comfortable in a less structured setting. I know dinner is the corner-stone of where a relationship begins, but I'd rather be on this blanket with a stomach full of burgers and chips, then in some restaurant with champagne and expensive food.
"I'm glad we're doing this, too," Harry says. His hand nudges mine a bit and then encases mine. I think he is going to lean in to kiss me, but suddenly remember the onions on the burger. My breath must stink to high heavens! What if he leans in to kiss me, but suddenly pulls back, repulsed?
Now I'm sweating.
I quickly turn my head away (ruining the moment to boot) and casually unsnap my purse. I root around for a mint and pop one in my mouth, turning my head away from him.
"Look at the moon!" I say. I drool on myself a bit and my voice sounds as though there is something in my mouth. I let the mint melt on my tongue.
"Uh, yeah. It's nice and round," Harry says, a bit bewildered.
I turn my head even further to the side and spit the rest of my mint out.
"What are you doing?" Harry asks, with a laugh.
"Nothing," I say quickly.
"What did you spit out?" he asks.
I sigh. "A mint. My breath probably smelled and if you were going to kiss me, then I didn't want my breath to be so foul."
Oh fucking hell. Did I just tell Harry Potter that I was expecting him to kiss me? Out loud? To his face? What is the matter with me? Why don't I just tell him all the embarrassing things that run through my mind when I think of him? Like how he would like lying above me, or how big he is, or whether or not he thinks of me when he touches himself? I am a bit perverted, but I think these things discretely to myself! If I start blabbing them all about like a baboon then I am in for a world of trouble.
Harry gives me an incredibly sexy look before bursting into laughter.
"What?" I say, mildly offended.
"Nothing." He turns to me. "I think I'm falling in love with you…" He says this as though he is almost posing it as a question to me. As though 'Am I in love with you?' Well, if you are asking me, then yes you are. Madly. You want to marry me and have my babies, actually, if it's being left up to me.
"You are?" I ask, my stupid little voices breaking. I can't keep that nervous tremor out of my voice. It is as though I know what is going to happen next. I can feel it working up inside of Harry. I can see him internally working up the nerve to do it. And then he kisses me.
Those soft, sweet kisses I've missed so dearly. They are not eager or persistent or rushing. He takes his time kissing me, as though we have the entire night to just sit here and kiss. Just by doing that, though, he works me into a frenzy, as per usual. Soft sweet kisses like this make my body ache for something more, and I think Harry knows it drives me crazy in a good way. Not in a cat-lady way, like in a 'I want to shag you' way.
I eagerly kiss him back and press myself against him. I grab at his shirt and press his chest against mine. We are both turned on our sides and perhaps not in the best position to do this, but it feels exactly like I would have wanted it. I feel his hand go into my hair and I smile a bit into his kiss. My eyes fall closed when his lips break from mine and kiss along my jaw line. When the reach my neck, I fall over onto my back in surprise.
Harry takes my lead and lays on top of me. He gazes down at me a bit concerned. "Is this okay?" he asks, brushing my hair back from my face. He lovingly tucks it behind my ear.
I lick my lips a bit, desperate for another kiss and reply, "Yes."
"You look gorgeous tonight," he says. His hand goes to my shoulder, and then slowly slides down my side to reach my hip. I shiver in the heat and let out a little noise. His eyes snap back up to mine and I give him a comforting smile then reach for his neck. I bring his head down to kiss me again.
I'm not sure how long we lay on the blanket kissing. Perhaps it was only fifteen minutes, but it could have been longer or shorter. All I know is that soon, before I realize it, both of our hips are moving in exact unison. I'm aching and short of breath, desperate for something more to happen. I can feel that Harry feels the same way, too.
His hands slide along my dress, which has become bunched around my hips. Finally, his hand comes in contact with my bare thigh. I let out a desperate moan into his mouth and his hand scatters.
"No," I breathe, grabbing for it. Without realizing I am doing it, I place it back under my dress. Nothing but constant kisses and nibbles from Harry could have caused such boldness. I'm a little more demanding than he is being. I do not know if perhaps I am a bit more desperate for something to happen. I have never felt this intense need to get my knickers off of my body.
Harry moans into my ear as his fingers skate across the waist of my knickers.
"They're old. And they aren't pretty and they're—" I say suddenly, embarrassed that he may actually see or touch them, despite my obvious want.
"I don't care," he replies instantly.
His hand dips below the waist of my knickers and he touches me. As though a firecracker went off from within me, my nerves suddenly exploded. I let out a low, whimpering sound and my head flew back.
"Merlin," Harry says softly. He sounds dumbfounded.
This goes on for about a minute or so, me writhing underneath him. I both jump away and push towards his hand. It is too much and not enough at the same time. I can feel this unexplainable feeling pushing its way out of me, and realize this isn't how I want it to be.
With fumbling hands, I reach for his belt buckle. I get it loose before he realizes what is happening. He takes his hand away from me and loss of it nearly makes me cry out in frustration.
"What are you doing?" he asks.
"I just…I want to be with you," I say, feeling myself blush. The sight of him in front of me is almost over powering. His hair is mussed more than usual, his eyes are dark, his lips are glistening slightly in the moonlight. With his shirt undone and half pulled out he looks, to be quite frank, fuckable.
This is what was making the night so uncomfortable. We couldn't talk to each other or look at each other because all we wanted to do was shag. It was pulsing and racing through our veins and seeping from our skin. With every breath it was like we were beckoning towards each other to shag. Not order an appetizer, not sip champagne, not make polite conversation. No. We wanted to shag because we have been in a constant state of foreplay for almost three years. This primal need to yank his shirt from his pants and rip it open and kiss his chest is overpowering me, so I do just that. Harry gasps in surprise.
I have been slightly afraid of this point in a relationship since I was aware of what actually happens. The thought that we would do something that is going to hurt me puts me off quite a bit. Why can't it hurt them? Huh? Even just a bit would be fine with me! I mean, all the guy would have to do would be to say, "Ouch, dear, that hurt!" and I'd feel tons better.
The second Harry settled in on top of me, though, it changed. There was this pulsing feeling throughout my body that I didn't expect. There was a slight ache from deep within me that seemed to grow more and more with every kiss, with every touch. I found myself wanting to do it here and now.
Harry is bent over at me, looking at me as though I have just uttered the most baffling thing he has ever heard in his life. He swallows once, then twice and shakes his head as though ridding himself of cobwebs.
I sit up and place a hand on his cheek.
"Harry," I say softly, giving his neck a tender kiss. "I love you and I want to be with you."
He lets out a groan of defeat when I slowly trail a hand down his chest to his lap and cup him softly through his trousers. His mouth finds mine and he kisses me forcibly. I gasp when we break away and let myself settle back on the blanket as Harry settles himself above me again.
He stares down at me and then breaks into a sweet smile before kissing me again. "I love you, Ginny," he says. He bends down to kiss my neck tenderly and kindly. His kisses get lower until they are resting above my cleavage. "I don't want to hurt you," he says.
"You won't," I gasp breathlessly. I run my fingers through his hair, letting my finger nails drag over his scalp. I feel him shiver and hear him let out a soft moan.
"Ok," he says softly into my ear.
He reaches under my dress and pulls the offending knickers from my body. The little golden snitches stitched into them twinkle slightly in the moonlight. I watch as he carefully places them down beside us. He looks down at me again and I give him a comforting smile.
"Take your pants off," I say, my voice sounding bold.
"Huh?"
"Take your pants off." I sit up and wait for him to follow my order. He gives me a bashful look as though he just now realized what needed to happen, but sits back nonetheless and takes his shoes off. His socks follow and then, ever so slowly, his pants are pulled down his legs and then completely off of him.
What used to be bony and knobbly, grew with him. Long lean legs replaced the chicken legs he used to have. He was still pale, but dark black hairs were all along his legs.
I gulp when I see his boxers. My bravado deflates as quickly as it came. I find myself embarrassingly fixated upon the tent in his dark maroon boxers.
One of his fingers nudges one of my fingers and I raise my eyes to look at him. He's giving me a comforting look, as though if I changed my mind now, it would be okay, he wouldn't be angry.
"Are you okay?" he asks me.
"Yes," I reply. I reach for the hem of my dress and tug it off. With shaking hands I reach for my bra and undo the snaps. It slides off of my shoulders and down my arms. I suck in a deep breath and let it fall from my arms and onto the blanket beside my dress.
I can hear Harry's sharp intake of breath and I wonder if that is a good thing or not. I dare not look him in the eyes for fear of the blush on my face showing.
We sit for maybe five or ten seconds without moving. I can feel Harry's eyes on me and then he slowly starts inching towards me. When I do not shrink back, he seems to take encouragement and kisses the side of my face. I turn my face towards him and kiss him quickly on the lips.
"I'm ready," I say softly.
"Okay."
I lay back down, my eyes fixated on the moonlight. I feel his comfortable weight settle on top of me. He strokes the side of my cheek, causing me to look at him instead. As soon as our eyes meet we both burst into nervous laughter.
It feels good to laugh. Most of the awkwardness melts away as we laugh. I am centered again. This is Harry who I will be doing this with, not some stranger. He would kill himself rather than cause me any pain. His concern and his patience is what makes me love him so much.
"You have your boxers on," I say when we stop laughing.
"I didn't want to scare you," he replies.
I laugh again. "I'm not scared."
"Alright…"
Harry lifts his hips off of mine and pulls his boxers down his legs. He settles back on top of me and I let out a soft gasp when I feel him bump against my opening. Hearing his little moan (the sexiest sound I think I will ever hear) I feel a wild sense of empowerment. I take a hold of him. His eyes widen and he sucks in a deep gulp of air that he doesn't release. I like the feel of him in my hand and slowly move it up and down the length of him until his breathing starts to shorten and become shallower.
"Ready?" he asks.
"Ready."
There is a brief moment where he tries to figure out the best angle at which to enter me. I move down a bit and spread my legs as wide as possible. He grabs one of my legs and wraps it around him. I feel him bump against me again and think I will nearly die from anticipation.
I brace myself for what I am sure is going to be blinding, screaming pain and buckets of blood. But as Harry slowly eases his way into me, all I feel is a tense, stretching pressure. It is not pleasurable as he inches inside of me, nor is it ungodly awful. I know, though, that if it doesn't feel better, it will not be happening again. It feels a bit uncomfortable at first as he starts, but when he finally fills me I let out a small gasp. My hands fly to his arms and squeeze.
"I'm sorry," he breathes into my ear. "I tried to be—"
"That was a good gasp, I think," I say. "Try to move."
And then it starts. What was building up inside of me all night suddenly starts to multiply and thunder throughout my body. I've heard horror stories and pleasure stories and nothing seems to compare to what I am feeling now. My eyes fall close and bursts of color form behind my eyes every time Harry pushes his way back in.
"Are you okay?" he asks. His voice sounds strained and he makes a loud moan when I twist my hips a bit.
"Yes," I breathe.
I look at his face, with his eyes screwed shut and a bead of sweat forming at his hair line and I realize that this is what real love is. If everyone gets to experience something like this at least once in their lives, then I don't know what everyone is so damn upset about. This is what I've been waiting for from Harry. I've felt this empty, weeping void since he dumped me which was only made worse by being around him every second of every day. Tonight, under the humid sky and under the man of my dreams, this void is filled and I feel so complete that I could cry.
Something bursts from me that is quite different from a cry. Those embarrassing moans are back. I can not stop them from coming from my mouth. Every time I open my mouth to tell Harry that I'm close to something, only a whimper or gasp or moan will come out. I guess he'll have to be surprised. Something was nudging me in the right place in such a manner that every time he pushed back into me it felt like a jolt of pleasure that grew and grew until…
"Oh fuck!" I say, pulling him against me. It is so powerful I feel as though I can't breathe or see or move correctly, as though this thing were controlling my reactions. It finally came to a tipping point and I felt wave after wave crashing over me.
When it finally ends and sets my limbs free, I am panting frantically. I can feel tears in my eyes (how embarrassing) and sweat on my body. Harry is gazing down at me in such awe that if I could have, I would have blushed. We were only at it for about three minutes or so, but trust me, it felt longer. His face suddenly twists up again and he breathes my name into my ear and then…
My eyes widen and I gasp in surprise. I seem to have forgotten a very important part of this act.
He shudders on top of me and then comes to a still. Our rising and falling stomachs touch as our breathing finds a rhythm together.
After he catches his breath, Harry slowly slips out of me and onto his side. He swallows a few times before opening his mouth to speak, but can only suck in more and more air. His hand runs through his hair.
Our eyes meet again and we both burst into laughter again. He leans over and kisses me. It is such a wonderful kiss that I could get lost in it if I wanted. We will pull back and smile at each other. He tucks my hair behind my ear again.
"That was…interesting," I say with a laugh.
He laughs. "Yes. It was, wasn't it?" he agrees. "It didn't hurt too bad?"
"Nope." I shake my head. "Even if it did, I wouldn't have remembered the beginning with a finale like that."
Harry blushes a bit and pushes his glasses up his nose. "Good. I wouldn't have wanted to hurt you." He looks over at me as though he wants to say something, but doesn't.
"What?" I ask him.
"Nothing." I can definitely tell now that he has something he doesn't want to say. "It was just a thought that ran through my head."
"Which was?" I ask. "Don't be embarrassed!"
"You'd…I mean to say that maybe you'd…" Harry turns to look at me. "…do that again?"
I nod and touch his cheek softly. "With you, always."
Mindful of the time, we do not stay much longer before getting dressed again. He takes my hand as we walk up the path. The lake we went to is only a twenty minute walk from the Burrow, and we opt to walk together than to shorten the night any.
When we get up to the Burrow, Harry gives me a last kiss.
"Can I see you tomorrow?" he asks.
I nod vigorously. "Yes."
"Around lunch time?"
"Mhmm," I reply into his mouth. "That sounds nice."
"I had a nice time," Harry says.
"I bet you did," I reply.
He seems a bit embarrassed and says, "I love you."
My stomach (which I am sure will never get used to Harry uttering those three words) flips and I smile goofily up at him. "I love you, too."
"Goodnight."
"Night. I'll flick my light so you'll know I'm upstairs safely."
"OK."
I enter the dark living room, give Harry a parting wave and close the door over. There is a fire that is just winding down in the living room as I walk past the fireplace and into the kitchen. I see a note from Mum asking that I knock to let her know I'm in safe. I head up the stairs and over to her door.
I give a soft knock. "Mum?" I call softly.
"Hmm?" Mum sleepily replies.
"I'm home safely."
"Oh, good, love! Did you have a nice time?"
"I had a wonderful time."
"Tell me all about it in the morning."
"Okay."
Obviously I'll leave out some choice details, but I'll be sure to tell her enough to ease her appetite.
I go into my room and quickly flip my light switch three times. I look out my side window and see him smile up at me before Apparating off. Hermione is asleep in her little bed by the window. She decided to spend the night so that we could talk all about my date when I got home. I shut the door over and lean against it.
"Ginny?" Hermione sits up and blearily rubs her eyes. "How was your date?"
"I'm going to marry that boy," I say, more to myself than to her.
"So, good then?"
I only smile.
A/N: Hello. I have been trying to write a Harry/Ginny story for almost a year now. I couldn't find the right angle, specifically because half the people in the books were killed in the last forty pages of the seventh book. Then, one day, I came up with what I thought might be an interesting idea. This story is going to be canon-ish, in that certain things from Deathly Hallows happened, but not a lot. I have decided to set this story in the Growing Up Potter universe. This is how Harry and Ginny came to be and then to have Elizabeth, James and then our protagonist, Roe.
Don't like it, don't continue reading it, but this is how I wanted to write this story. It will be strictly Harry/Ginny, though. A prequel if you will. There will be no Albus Severus in my story. Remus and Tonks are still alive and they will have Demi in this story. I'm just having fun with it for right now and will try to update as quickly as possible. It helps combat the boredom that is summer.
So, just read and review and complain at will about it, but this will be my pet project for now.