The first kiss...
Summary: it's basically Harry and Ginny's first kiss from Ginny's perspective.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
As I grasped the cold metal cup in my shaking hands I was deafened by the roars of triumph coming from my fellow Gryffindors, a strong pair of hands grabbed me by the waist and lifted me above the screaming crowd. I looked down at the sea of ecstatic faces surrounding me and knew that I should have felt overjoyed; however the absence of one particular face was enough to cause a bleak, dejected feeling to sweep through my body. It was a painfully familiar feeling, one that I had grown accustomed to throughout the past five years. It was the same feeling I got every time I watched him talk to another girl or when he walked past me in the corridor without even noticing I was there. It was the same feeling I got whenever I reminded myself that the brave, beautiful Harry Potter would never want me even half as much as I wanted him. Suddenly, I wanted to be alone. The smiling faces all around me just made me feel worse, like they were mocking me for my stupid, adolescent fantasies. As whoever was holding me put me down I was seized by another pair of hands, 'NICE ONE GINNY!!!!' Roared Ron as he swung me round. 'WE DID IT!!! JUST WAIT 'TILL I TELL HARRY!'
'Yeah' I forced a smile, 'here.' I shoved the cup into his hands and turned away, winding my way through the crowd as I tried to get towards the girls' dorms. I didn't feel much like celebrating, isolation washed through me like a bucket of ice cold water.
Just as I reached the staircase to the girls' dorms I was distracted by a sudden eruption of sound, so loud it shattered the bubble surrounding me. Through the portrait hole a tall, dark, tousle haired man emerged, the look of shock on his beautifully sculpted face so endearing that my previous feeling of elation returned, but stronger, so strong in fact that it seized control over my entire body and I found myself running towards him. As I drew nearer our eyes met and I noticed something shift in the way he was looking at me, it was as though he was seeing me for the first time and liked what he saw. I threw my arms around him, breathing in his warm, familiar smell and felt his arms close around my waist. It was as though time had slowed, I could feel our faces drawing closer and closer, I could feel the pressure of his body against mine, I could count the different shades in his dazzling emerald eyes as they bore into my own. Then suddenly, his soft lips were pressing against mine, and I felt as though something had just clicked into place inside me, this was 'it'. This was what everyone on the planet wanted, what people for millennia have sang songs about, told stories about, dreamed about. What some people never get to experience and what others are lucky to experience more than once. 'It' was a feeling. A feeling of unity. Like two halves of the same being, Harry and I are meant to be together. This is why I never gave up on him, why I watched him from afar for all these years, why none of our other relationships worked out. Love, but of colossal proportions.
Joy surged through me, I felt as though I was flying, although I was sure my feet were still on the ground. His lips were soft, yet firm against mine; I moved my hands from around his neck and ran my thumb along his jaw-line, his cheek was rough with stubble but his skin was smooth, his lips pressed mine hard for a second then he broke off. I opened my eyes slowly and looked up at his face; he was looking over the top of my head and wearing an expression that was a cross between apprehension and shock. The room, which only a matter of seconds before had been alive with activity was now silent apart from some idiot who I could hear wolf-whistling. I turned my head to see what Harry was looking at and saw poor Ron looking as though he had received a bludger to the head, his mouth was hanging open and the cup hung loosely from his fingertips as though he had forgotten it was even there. Then he gave a funny little jerk of his head which I took to mean, 'well, if you must'. I turned back to Harry, he was grinning down at me, a look of exultation dancing across his face, I felt a great, swooping feeling throughout my whole body as he held open the portrait hole for me and stood to the side to let me pass.