Do it…Just do it…now!

Harry opened his mouth. Then closed it again.

He swallowed.

It had been almost two years since the name 'The Boy Who Lived' had 'officially' stuck. Two years since darkness turned into light. Two years since Voldemort's final downfall. Two years since Harry had been in the same room with Ginevra Weasley.

More.

It seemed so strange.

To be with her.

Alone.

Harry was more afraid of talking to his best friend's sister than tackling a handful of Dementors, Death Eater or the darkest wizard to have ever roamed the earth.

They were alone.

A rare moment.

A 'now-or-never' moment.

Harry stood up and rolled back his shoulders. He dragged his leaden legs over to the corner of the couch Ginny was curled up in. He stood right in front of her and cleared his throat.

'G-Ginny?'

'Uhm?' she said, not looking up.

Harry felt a pink tinge appear.

'I – um – I want to – er – have…you…'

'I am not a possession, Harry.'

Harry felt his cheeks burn.

'Oh…I mean, I want – uh – you to – um – have…me?'

'You are not a possession either Harry.'

'Well – I hope that were – what do call it? – an item? Well…just…just something…anything?'

'We, Harry, are not "things".'

Harry started to get desperate. 'Then who – when – what are we?'

'Well,' said Ginny, putting her book on the side table, 'Mister Potter, let me think.'

'Ginny looked up and Harry swore that that smirk was due to the expression on his face. Without any warning, her hand shot out and dragged Harry into a kiss, by the chest of his shirt.

She brushed her lips against the corner of Harry's mouth.

Harry forced his stiff back to bend so that the Weasley girl didn't have to strain her neck for something that was supposedly enjoyable.

Ginny contracted her back and Harry lent his back even more. If anyone walked in on them (which Harry prayed that no one would) they would have seen Ginny kissing a some weird T-square.

Sometime during Harry's musings – or whatever it was called – Ginny had snaked her arms around Harry's neck. Oh no! thought Harry. He tried to relax, hoping that the girl he was kissing – the girl kissing him, more like – did not notice the tension in his neck and shoulders. He had is arms out (Now I look like a plane too…), just to stabilise himself, in case this…girl?...made anymore sudden movements.

Those moments came.

Harry was jerked down and he flung his arms onto the back and side of the couch so that he would not squash Ginny. She was on her back now…lying on the couch. Which meant one thing.

And awkward position for Harry.

What was he supposed to do? He doubted a man – a what? – was supposed to let the lady do all the work – the what?

Harry thought back to his Hogwarts years for some help.

Well … in sixth year … he and Ginny didn't do anything much, as Ron was always around.

Ron and Lavander. Well there was a lot of … activity and chewing gum…but that wasn't as awkward as now. Well, not in Harry's books anyway.

If I just put my leg in between hers – wait – that's just wrong…I'll just put that on the inside…but how am I supposed to get in there without kicking her? I'll justput it on the outside then.

Harry lifted his right leg onto the edge of the couch.

There was one limb left on the ground.

Great, I'm doing stationary tai-chi now.

Ginny deepened the kiss and Harry found it hard to keep his mind on positioning his awkward self so that he would be comfortable, and so would ginny.

In the end, Harry just let his left knee drop to the floor. His hands were still funny though. His right was on the back of the couch, and his left was on the arm rest.

She's touching you, Harry. I mean, her hands are around your neck. Just put your hands down.

Where?

On her waist you thickhead!

Harry didn't know if he could do it. His hands were normally kept to himself. They hadn't touched – held? – a girl's body before. Sure, his best friend, Hermione, hadhugged him before, but that was after something tragic or something and – well, they had been young then…and…body parts hadn't started to grow yet.

Alright hands, on the count of three, smoothly remove and replace yourselves on Ginny's waist. Okay…breathe…one…two…three!

Harry lifted his hands and –

'I've finished thinking.'

Harry gave a small yelp and fell off the couch.

Why – oh why – was he so stupid with women? Where was that stupid Thirteen Unforgettable Ways to Get Witches book? Or whatever it was called. When Ginny had sat up abruptly, Harry bumped his head against her – well, he had made contact with that part when Hermione hugged him, but they…were…small…

Harry lay on the floor for a few moments, giving Ginny time to…soothe her pain (Harry was very sure that he had caused one).

Slowly he raised his head and saw Ginny sitting on the edge of the couch.

She saw him too.

Damn.

He couldn't pretend that he had been knocked unconscious from a two foot drop.

Harry stood up, with his head bowed, admiring the toes that didn't belong to him.

'I've finished,' said that owner of the subject in Harry's view again.

Harry looked up. She was now standing. 'Huh? What?'

She raised an eyebrow. 'you asked who – where – what we are.'

'Oh – yeah – right,' mumbled Harry, lowering his gaze again.

'And I've finished deciding what we are.'

Harry's head shot up again.

If this kept going on, Harry would need acupuncture.

He jerked his head, indicating for Ginny to go on. To tell him. To provide an answer of the longest mystery to have existed – EVER.

For the second time (Harry's life seemed to repeat itself, but with slight modifications) Ginny kissed him.

He made an attempt to put his hands on her waist.

He succeeded.

About time too.

He pulled her body closer to his, bathing in her presence, her warmth – her love. Hopefully.

A hand – or two – or was it three? – ran through Harry's untidy hair. He copied, running his and along her waist and up and down her back.

I need air! Harry though after a few minutes of (dry) snogging. I can't breathe! I'm going to die kissing! If his eyes were open, and if Ginny were too, he'd see her eyes widen as his face turn blue. Harry needed too breathe, but he wanted to still have this someone's saliva making contact with his mouth, but he didn't want to breathe while kissing – he might derive Ginny from her breath.

Come to think of it, Ginny would need to breathe too.

Harry tilted his chin backwards, breaking contact with her lips.

'What are we?' he murmured, taking hyperventilate-like breaths, but trying to keep them quiet.

Her reply made him feel that he'd never need air again.

'Together.'


Lol, still a while from my other story...oh well, i deacided to just have the one chapter to finish it off...two is too much...it's getting boring (in my opinion) yeah.

Pada pendapat say this is random, ( I need humour in my life right now...so many assessments, thankfully, theyr nearly all finished)

We are so dead.

We wrote a three word story, about HP and included some stuff you wouldn't normally show teachers, and it got confiscated...

'...Harry was thumping the table with his...private parts...'

'I've had enough of this...nakedness...'

Dobby kissing Hermione.

Dumbledore and Bill/Monsuier Delacour/Moody arguing whose 'stick' is more magical...and you wouldn't want to know

Now, in your opinion this story is...