Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JKR. If I had my way, this scene would be written into DH. Harry/Ginny are my favorite ship!
Harry simply stared. Gaped. Was there any other reaction? His mind could barely wrap around the fact that the half-naked witch he had been kissing just seconds before was truly his. With a toss of her fiery mane, she had broken their kiss to whisper a single word. "Ready?" she asked, eyes gleaming. She traced a slender finger down the center of his chest, as if to make sure he knew exactly what she meant.
How long had he waited for this moment? He had walked away from Ginny too many times – at first, to preserve his friendship with Ron; later, to protect her from Voldemort. Then, finally, he had defeated Voldemort. Ron had even given permission for the two to date, "as long as you two can keep your tongues in your own mouths whenever I'm around," he had added gruffly.
Yet their relationshp hadn't been able to flourish. Ginny was distraught over Fred's death. Memories of Fred whirled through her head so often that she claimed she could hear his voice teasing her and cracking jokes every time she and Harry kissed. Most days, Ginny locked herself in Fred and George's old room and cried. She recoiled at Harry's touch and snapped at Mrs. Weasley's pleas for Ginny to come downstairs for meals.
Ron spent nearly all his time with Hermione. After Harry had accidentally walked in on Ron caressing a topless Hermione, the happy couple began to spend more time at Hermione's parents' house in Muggle London and made it clear that they'd rather Harry didn't join them. Harry had had a lonely summer so far. With the older Weasleys – Charlie, Bill, Percy, and George – living elsewhere, Ron glued to Hermione's side (or lips) at all time, and Ginny sobbing over Fred's old wand or school books most of the time, Harry spent most of his tiem allowing Mrs. Weasley to fuss over him like a surrogate son and explaining how lightbulbs work to Mr. Weasley.
He didn't expect much for his eighteenth birthday. The Burrow was still cloaked in mourning. Besides the Weasleys and Hermione, his closest friends – Sirius, Dumbledore, Lupin – were gone, just like Fred. He didn't have any family left other than the Dursleys, who would rather eat live spiders than set foot in the Burrow with fully-fledged wizards and witches. No, Harry did not expect much of a birthday celebration at all.
He was rather surprised when Ron and Hermione insisted on treating him to an afternoon in Hogsmeade. Harry felt slightly guilty for enjoying butterbeer and strolling up and down Diagon Alley under the warm July sun while Ginny sat at home, most likely starting in on a new crying jag. Yet he needed to escape the Burrow. Fred had been gone for over six weeks now, and the oppressive gloom that had fallen over the Weasley household was far too depressing to handle. A fun afternoon in the glorious sun was exactly what Harry needed.
When he expressed this fact to Ron and Hermione, a knowing look spread across Ron's face.
"I get it, mate," Ron nodded. "That's why I've been spending as much time as possible at Hermione's. I can't stand the Burrow anymore."
"Er – I thought..." Harry began, thinking of the afternoon when he had walked in on Ron and Hermione together. "Never mind."
Ron understood immediately and reddened. "Ah, well, I suppose that, too. It's bloody hard to get a room with everyone milling around."
"Get a room?" Harry asked. "What exactly are you two doing at Hermione's every day?" He knew he was prying but didn't care – Ron and Hermione were his best friends. He deserved to know.
"Nothing special, really. I've been teaching Ron to use the telephone properly," Hermione said. "I've been catching up on loads of reading. There's a new edition of Hogwarts, A History that talks all about You-Know-Who's defeat."
"Oh, get off it, Hermione. We've been shagging," Ron said matter-of-factly.
"Ron!" Hermione cried.
"What, I can't even tell Harry?" Ron asked indignantly.
Hermione blushed. "I didn't think you were planning on announcing it in the middle of Diagon Alley," she hissed.
"I love it when she's mad. Sexy, eh?" Ron said, winking at Harry. "I tell you, it's brilliant. She does this thing with her tongue -" Ron began enthusiastically.
Hermione clapped a hand over Ron's mouth. She had turned completely scarlet and was unable to make eye contact with Harry.
Harry raised an eyebrow. He knew Ron and Hermione were serious, but he hadn't realized exactly how serious.
"I don't need to know all the details," he said, more for Hermione's sake than his own.
"Oh, sorry," Ron said, not looking the least bit apologetic. His smile faded as he asked, "You and Ginny – I mean, she's my sister – you two aren't... you're not shagging her, are you?"
Harry gave a hollow laugh. "Not even close."
Ron looked thoroughly relieved.
"She's really upset, Ron. Bursting into tears whenever anyone mentions Fred's name, refusing to eat, spending all of her time in Fred and George's old room... Now she's talking about not going back to Hogwarts."
Ron's face darkened. He bit his lip and looked away for a moment. "Fred wouldn't have wanted it like this." His voice faltered slightly, and Hermione gently took his hand. "He would have wanted her back at Hogwarts – Quidditch captain, raising hell, dating you..." he trailed off.
"Fred's zero for three. Ginny cries every time I try to touch her," Harry said bitterly.
"She's obviously really upset!" Hermione cried. "She's not going to go straight from her brother's funeral to your bed in a week, you know."
Harry heard her mutter something that sounded distinctly like "Boys!" under her breath.
"Give her time," Ron advised. "Ginny's always been like this – intense, emotional. She needs time to cool off, you'll see."
For what may have been the first time in his entire life, Ron Weasley had been right about girls. Harry stepped back for a few days. He stopped trying to give her good-night kisses. He advised Mrs. Weasley to let Ginny take her meals in her room. He even stopped trying to convince her to return to her seventh year at Hogwarts. Sure enough, Ginny began to cool off by the end of the first week of August.
One morning, Harry woke to the sound of his bedroom door creaking open. He sat up in bed and reached for his glasses. His eyes were still hazy from sleep, but he could make out two long, pale legs and a mane of waist-length, golden red hair.
"Ginny?"
She closed the door, and it creaked again. "I didn't want to wake you," she said softly.
"Then what..." Harry didn't want to be so rude as to ask her what she was doing in his room, especially since it wasn't even his room – it was Percy's old bedroom.
"I've missed you," she said, crossing the small room and sitting on the edge of the bed.
"I've missed you, too," Harry said quietly. "I didn't want to intrude."
"Intrude on what? My crying jags?" Ginny asked, eyes round and sad.
Harry didn't want to agree with her, but couldn't deny that Ginny had spent the majority of the summer wailing over Fred's old wand and robes. He settled for the noncommital gesture of taking her hand in his.
"I just needed time," she said, lacing her fingers into his. "I realized that I can't sit in Fred's room forever. He wouldn't want it that way. I should be raising hell at Hogwarts, Quidditch captain, dating you."
Ginny leaned into Harry and gently kissed him. She felt so soft and fresh against his lips. Harry's flesh screamed for more, but he didn't protest when she pulled away.
"You've been talking to Ron?" Harry asked.
"Yeah," she nodded.
"He told me the exact same thing, nearly word for word. It's true, you know. You can't lock yourself up forever. You're young, beautiful, the best Quidditch player Hogwarts has ever seen – Fred wouldn't want you to hold yourself back because of him." Harry didn't know exactly what Fred would and wouldn't want, but anything would be an improvement over sobbing day and night.
"Then I won't hold myself back," she said, kissing him again, more deeply this time. Without breaking the kiss, she leaned into Harry, hooking her arms behind his neck. Harry ran one hand through Ginny's silky hair and placed the other on the small of her back. He allowed it to slip lower as the kiss progressed, neither of them willing to surface for air. Their lips fit together so perfectly, one curve pressing into the next. Ginny pulled away first, slightly breathless.
"I've missed that," she said, smiling broadly for the first time in weeks. "I've missed you," she said, resting her head on Harry's chest.
Her gaze travelled from Harry's face down to their intertwined hands resting on Harry's stomach, to the disturbance under the bedcovers. He shifted uncomfortably, attempting to hide his arousal. Ginny pretended not to notice at first, but couldn't help herself. She was curious.
"We should talk," she announced after a brief silence. "About us. And that," she said, gesturing to Harry's lap.
"I didn't mean to," Harry said quickly, shifting around under the covers again. He tried to think of something incredibly unappealing – Dudley and his revolting girlfriend Fawn Watkins, Snape's greasy hair, anything besides Ginny's tongue sliding across his and her hands roaming across his body.
"No, that's not what I meant," Ginny replied with a laugh, sitting up. "I don't mind, really. I'll take it as a compliment, if you'd like. I just meant that we should talk about doing more than snogging."
Ginny turned onto her side and lay down, propping herself up on her left elbow, her right arm draped across her body to hold Harry's hand. Whether intentional or not, her right arm pressed her breasts together and they rose slightly out of her nightgown. Harry tried to focus on her eyes.
"I'd like that," Harry mused. "But only if you're ready." Ron's voice played loud and clear in his head. "She's my sister – you two aren't... you're not shagging her, are you?"
"I'm not a little girl anymore. I'll be seventeen in a few days' time. Seventeen is the age of consent, according to the Ministry of Magic."
"Just because you're seventeen doesn't mean you're ready," Harry countered.
"Pushing me away, are you? I never thought I'd see a teenage boy turn down sex," she said playfully.
"I'm not pushing you away. You're as sexy as hell, Gin, and you know it," Harry responded, willing himself to avoid staring at her breasts. "Just think about it for a few days, promise?"
"Oh, you know I'll be thinking of you," she responded with a smile.
A/N: What do you think? I've never written HP fanfiction before, so we'll see how this one turns out. The rating may go up in the next few chapters - I'll give you a hint and tell you that Ginny thinks for a few days and comes to a definite conclusion that will make Harry Potter one lucky wizard.
Liked it? Hated it? All reviews are welcome. :)