Author's Note: I like this setting challenge. I like the prompts. I like my two OTPs. So I am doing them both, with different settings. This is one for Harry and Ginny, and the setting is The Burrow. I'm sort of excited to try writing both pairs at the same time, with the same prompt words. Should be fun! x


i. convoluted

He thinks that it's an incredibly lovely day for Quidditch. It's sunny, but the soft white clouds drifting lazily through the July-blue sky block the sun just enough to keep it from hindering his vision and causing glare on his glasses. It's the best sort of day, actually, and he thinks that perhaps his view on the subject has been a bit affected by the fact that he's getting to play Quidditch with his girlfriend who has been blissfully inclined to wear a very short pair of cutoff shorts today, providing him a wonderful view of her long, freckled legs.

"Oi!"

The yell comes from across the field and Harry ducks just in time for a bludger to brush over the top of his head. He glares at Ron, who is smirking at him proudly, a bat held in his crossed arms.

"Maybe if you'd stop ogling at my sister you would have been able to dodge that one a bit better," he shouts over the steady wind, though the corners of his mouth are tilted upward. Harry scowls and looks over at Ginny who is flying at his level, and she meets his eye, a large grin on her face. She winks and his stomach swoops pleasantly.

"Sod off, Ron," she says loudly, but she's still looking at Harry and the swooping in his stomach becomes more pronounced.

"Bloody hell, you two," Ron groans, flying over next to them and rolling his eyes, "Do you want to play or not?"

Harry swallows and tries to answer, but finds himself strangely unable to form words as Ginny winks at him again, her red hair breezily whipping around her face.

"Oh forget it, I'm going to go see if mum's made lunch," Ron mutters, and descends to the ground, making a show of stomping off towards the house. Harry watches him for a moment and then turns back to the girl who is hovering in the air next to him.

"Guess we better put this stuff up," she says, gesturing to the quaffle tucked under her right arm and Harry nods, beginning the drop to the ground.

Harry wrestles the single bludger to the ground fairly quickly, and Ginny pockets the snitch that she had zoomed after and caught quickly. He follows her to the broom shed, the black ball struggling under his grip, and he brushes off his hair absentmindedly as a few spiders fall from the ceiling when he passes through the door.

The shed is much too small for the both of them, and it makes his heart hammer a bit faster, but he tries to focus on the cracks in the wooden walls and not on the way her arse looks as she bends down to strap the balls into a case one at a time. She finishes, straightens up, and turns to Harry, a manic smile on her lips. He doesn't have time to wonder why, because in a second she has him pressed against the wall and her lips are on his, sweet and soft and insistent and he feels quite as if that bludger had whacked him in the head after all. He falls into her rhythm quickly, however, and lets his hands glide down her back, resting just where her shirt has ridden up above her jeans to reveal a patch of skin. She sighs into his mouth and he's overwhelmed by the scent of flowers that always seems to ride on her breath and in the strands of her hair. Harry finds all at once that he's not at all concerned that the broom shed is much too small, and that there are probably a dozen spiders in his hair, or that he's had to position himself in a convoluted, bent over sort of way to better reach her neck, because when he kisses her on the patch of skin just below her ear she shivers despite the summer heat and he really can't imagine a better way to spend a day like this.

Not even Quidditch would be better.


Heheh hehehe hehehehehee. I haven't written Ginny and Harry in awhile but I love them and I am re-reading HBP right now and having a lot of Hinny feels so ANYWAY. This is happening. *continues to giggle madly*