Title: A Dance
Cannon: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: Nope, Harry and co aint mine. Just ask Rowling.
Pairings: Harry/Ginny
Genere: Suspense/Supernatural
Rating: R for actions.
Summary: Viginette. Harry dances with Ginny in promise.
He asks her to the dance and she questions him where he learned. He hasn't so she teaches him herself. It isn't long before he is enjoying it, and even afterwards they're learning more dances together, proving how close their bodies can get without the world seeing them.
The first time they make love, they're danceing. Spinning and spinning in the Come-and-Go room and pulling their partner around. He tugs her and her body reacts to his touch as if they're one. Her back is pushed up right against him and they hear nothing but the heart beating in their chest reflecting in their ears.
A leg sneaks around to his back while the other reaches down, down to the ground. But he's taller and stronger so she doesn't fall or stand. He holds her complete and neither are really sure where one ends and the other begins. She turns what must be her head and kisses him. She kisses him and though he's shy and knows so little about living and loving he takes in her tongue and forces a duel. She can feel his erection pressing against her back and automatically pushes further into him. He groans into her mouth and this is how it starts.
Hours later when they're sweating and complete, both bodies as one are stilled on the ground. "Come back to me," she whispers softly, and he kisses her as if he'll never let her go.
No one really knows how it happened. It hit too fast and historians will always wonder and scream at one another about what they think happened at the Final Battle. You can practically taste the captials and the meaning that is hit with those words. Most are enjoying a Halloween at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and WIzardry.
A high pitch noise fills the hall and everyone is either outside or esconed in their common rooms. Ginevra Molly Potter is left alone in the Great Hall to hold the wards high while everyone she loves goes outside. To fight or to die remains to be seen and she fears the answers.
She can hear teh essence of Avada Kedavras as they fly free on the field of battle of grass and between halls. The falling of metal shields and enchanted soldiers clangs through the school and children gather and cry, try to shield themselves from what is happening despite the fact that they would run from it if they could. The battle was like a train wreck-you couldn't look away however much you might want to.
Acid feels the nostrils of blood and death and hate and bad things that make her skin crawl. Professor Weasley-Potter must stay behind to hold the wards she is famed for as the new Runes professor. She tries her best not to cry but tears run down her face as sounds hit the air and she wonders who has already perished; if red hair or brunette locks lie on the floor or if green emerald eyes remain open staring up at reptilian features.
Whether it is a moment or an eternity passes the same.
Her strenght wanes.
The sounds around her have stopped and the wards around her that protect the students flicker. She takes in a deep breath when the pain hits, a tearing pain that feels like half of her has been cut away, a bond by a knife of hate and terror. A keen reaches out of her throat that she later wont remember but it shatters what is left of unbroken glass and the living wince.
She lies on the floor of the Great Hall for a long time, and the pain dulls to the back of her mind enough to convince her that she can stand. She crawls to her knees and then stands.
Ginny thinks to make her way about to a chair where she can breath when someone, something, comes up from behind her. She moves as to strike when the creature grabs her up and flattens her back at something. She acts before her self knows what she is really doing. Ginny's left leg comes up and curls around the back of the being...
...the man.
Her heart beats wildly against her chest in fear and her lungs pull in great heaving breathes before she can make no more. A hand, a man's hand her mind supplies, curves from her right leg and up to her flattened belly and to her heaving chest. The skin he touches prickles but she refuses to believe what is going on.
"I keep my promises, Gin." she hears whispered in her ear. And she cries in relief when the bond doesn't pain her any longer. And they reinact their dance from the beginning.
End.