Finding Happiness

It was a hot Saturday night in July, and as usual music was pounding from the speakers of Moonshine, Diagon Alley's most exclusive club. The line out the club's door traveled the block, but everyone knew that the people who mattered always came through in the side. That was, at least, how Ginevra Weasley had come to be lounging in the corner with her flat mate, Lavender Brown. Weasleys and ex-members of the famed Dumbledore's Army did not wait in lines.

Ginny bit the olive off of the plastic stir stick that had been lying across the rim of her martini glass. The humidity was suffocating, but the throngs of people crowding the rooftop dance floor didn't seem to care. Ginny herself preferred cooling spells to the heavy summer's air. Bored, she let her eyes wander from body to body, rarely pausing for more than a moment to catch an old friend's eye.

Lavender frowned, her own drink in hand. "You seem distracted Neva. What is it?"

Ginny had adopted the nickname Neva after the war, from Ginevra. No one seemed to want to call her her full name, so she had told people to call her Neva, her reason being that it sounded more mature than the childish "Ginny."

"Nothing Lav, nothing." Neva sighed, pausing to stir her drink.

Lavender raised an eyebrow. "Fess up. I can tell when you're lying, and I know that something's got to be bothering you."

Neva sighed, placing her drink down on the low table. "Harry and Lizzie broke up."

"They broke up?" echoed Lavender, shocked.

Neva nodded.

Lizzie and Harry (known to the world as Larry, a name even Neva had to giggle over), had been going out for eight months.

"Seems a bit strange, Nev, seeing as you and Pete broke up just last week," Lavender continued, a smile taking over.

Neva would have snorted had she been one to do such things. Pete was the boy she had been seeing for the two months. He had actually lasted an extremely long time given Neva's track record. Actually, she had not dated a boy for over two months since but the short and passionate three months she spent as Harry Potter's girlfriend. Of course, Lavender took this to mean that there was no one other than Harry that Neva could last for more than two months with. Neva was not childish enough to believe that. She simply thought that she had not found the right person yet, and was no really all that eager to.

Neva sat back in her chair, putting her drink down on the wooden table beside her armrest. "Yes, Lavender, the planets must have aligned and decided that we must be together."

Lavender looked hurt, but Neva knew her well enough to know that the expression was empty. "All I'm saying is that you might want to at least talk to him."

"You know I do! He still comes to all of my mother's dinners."

"Please pass the potatoes doesn't count Neva," Lavender informed her, eyebrows knit and condescending.

Harry and Neva had never really spoken about resuming their relationship after the war. Rebuilding was no small task, and Harry was in the middle of it. Neva had been naïve enough to assume that when it was over, Harry would come running back into her arms. She had always been a physical person, one who required tender care. When Harry was not there for her in the way she needed him to be after her brothers and so many of her friends had died, she sought refuge in the arms of others. Many others. Neva had never dared to ask Harry what he wanted. In reality, she was too proud. The last move in their relationship had been hers; the next should be his.

"Fine Lavender," she sighed, vowing to herself that she would speak to Harry about the weather, or something equally dull. "I promise I'll go out of my way to have a conversation with Harry the next time I see him. Happy?"

"Happy," Lavender smiled wide. Too wide.

"What?" Neva asked, annoyed with her roommate's obnoxious grin.

"Oh nothing Nev," Lavender smiled even wider, reaching for her drink.

"Tell me," the red head growled.

Lavender bit the olive off of her toothpick slowly and chewed it thoughtfully before swallowing. "How eager are you to have this conversation with Harry, would you say?"

"Not very," Neva replied, narrowing her eyes.

Her roommate chuckled, "Then I suggest you don't turn around."

Neva's curiosity got the better of her as she turned to face the opposite direction.

Standing at the entrance to Moonshine was Harry Potter.

Neva turned, narrowing her eyes at Lavender, "How the hell did you know he'd be here? He never goes partying."

Harry had never been the most social person, and after the war the fame he had acquired turned him into sort of a recluse.

Lavender smirked, putting down her drink, "The planets were aligned."

Neva flipped her the finger just as two men began to approach them. One was blonde, the other brunette. They held two martinis; the same drinks most men knew Neva and Lavender were partial to.

"Would either of you ladies care for a drink?" The blonde asked, offering Neva the stemmed glass.

Neva grimaced. She hated the throngs of men who would come up to her in clubs. They were all sleaze bags who wanted nothing more than to sleep with Ginevra Weasley. Of course, Neva had a reputation of sleeping around, but she slept with men she chose to sleep with. She preferred the hunt to being stalked as prey. Still, she had learned early on that it was better to accept drinks than to argue. It was far too time consuming. Lavender, on the other hand seemed to enjoy the attention. She lived to tease.

"Thank you," Neva replied, standing and taking the glass.

"I'm sorry boys but my friend Neva here has someone she has to go see," smiled Lavender, accepting her own drink from the brunette. "But feel free to keep me company until she gets back. If she gets back, that is."

The boys did not seem too disappointed as they made themselves comfortable on either side of Lavender.

Neva eyed the brunette and the blonde distastefully.

Lavender looked up at her through heavily lined eyes. "Don't you have somewhere you need to be?"

Neva narrowed her eyes. She raised the drink in her hand to her mouth and gulped it all back in one sip. Dangling the toothpick between two fingers, the redhead bit off the olive and began to chew.

Lavender raised her eyebrow. I'm going to kill her, thought Neva as she placed the drink back in the blonde man's hand and made a beeline toward a certain dark haired saviour of the wizarding world.

Harry was surrounded by a flock of absurdly dressed girls, but the crowd quickly dispersed when Neva appeared. Harry looked at her, eyes wide with apparent shock.

"Ginny," he said, taking her in from head to toe. Because he rarely ever went out to clubs it was very possible that he had never seen her looking the way she did just then.

Harry had to admit she looked amazing. Her hair was down in soft, dark red waves, somehow managing to look tame and wild at the same time. Touchable. She wore dark eyeliner and layers of mascara. Her eyes were the colour of caramel with flecks of gold. Her skin was bare, and freckles could be spotted easily across the bridge of her nose, forehead and shoulders. Her lips were painted blood red, and parted slightly so he could see the small gap he used to find so adorable between her two front teeth. Her cheeks were flushed pink with a natural blush that bloomed from the heat. She wore a silver strapless dress that hugged curves Harry knew had not been there during the time they had dated. The top hugged her breasts and the bottom ended abruptly, leading down to legs that never seemed to end. Hell, she looked more than amazing. Harry had never been in such close proximity to anyone else who oozed sex. She looked fucking edible.

"Hello Harry," she smiled, displaying her white teeth. "I'm sure you've heard it's Neva, though. It's been three years."

It took a while for him to realize that she was talking about her name change, not their relationship.

"Right."

She smiled, pulling her hair from one side to rest so that it fell down only one shoulder. "I know this isn't the most opportune place to chat, but how have you been lately?"

She frowned to herself, wondering what had happened to talking about the weather.

"I'm alright," Harry smiled. At lease she hadn't said she was sorry for the breakup. He had gotten enough of that. Maybe she didn't know. "You?"

"I'm great," she smiled again.

Ginny hoped that her mask of confidence was holding up. Being so close to Harry had made her remember all of the little thinks she used to love about him. The dimple on his right cheek, the exact colour of his eyes, the one hair that always seemed to be out of place, the birthmark on his neck, the hollow of his throat where she used to kiss him and he would shiver… Then there were new things. The most obvious would be the stubble brushed across his face, and the recently acquired sharpness of his jaw line. But there were other things too. Like the way he smiled now. It seemed so much more carefree than it had during the time of the war. The worry line in between his eyebrows had disappeared. He seemed happy. And she was happy that he was happy. Harry was an extremely attractive man, and any woman would say so, but to Ginny he was much more. He was unattainable. He was the one man Ginny refused to hunt. The one man she would act as prey for. She knew it, and it scared her.

Harry coughed, interrupting her assessment.

"Do you want to dance?" He asked, biting his lip. He did that when he was nervous, Ginny remembered. Perhaps she wasn't the only one after all.

Sure," she nodded.

As he led her onto the dance floor she was free to stare at what many considered to be Harry Potter's greatest feature. His perfectly shaped, sculpted ass. She sent up a short prayer thanking Harry for having chosen such tight pants to wear.

Harry held Neva's hand in his and remembered how small it was, but how well it had always fit in his palm. He felt his hand go clammy with a combination of the hot night's air and nervous sweat.

He was about to dance with the girl he so often dreamed about. Since his sixth year at Hogwarts Harry had known that he was in love with Ginny. Their affair had been short but heated and passionate. They had never made love, but he had longed to in a way that he never had with another girl since.

On the eve of Bill and Fleur's wedding he had been unable to sleep, and wandered downstairs searching for something to cure his restlessness. Silently, she appeared in the living room and attempted to seduce him with her eyes, and her body, and the sound of her voice. She looked angelic and more beautiful than anything he had ever laid eyes on. He wanted her with a burning passion that scorched his skin. He kissed her and touched her, and he had almost given in when he remembered that that could not happen. Not for them. He loved her, but she was too fragile. She needed to be protected. Protecting her meant staying away from her. He could not allow himself to succumb to his body or his emotions. One day, he said. She left with tears in her eyes.

Sometimes he wondered if things would have been different had they made love that night on the floor of the Burrow. Maybe she would have waited for him.

Harry and Neva reached the middle of the dance floor, both lifted from their vivid memories by the pulsing music. They began to dance.

Ginny's body fell into a natural rhythm. Her hips swayed back and forth to the music, her feet moving ever so slightly. She moved beautifully. Not necessarily as graceful as some of the other girls Harry had danced with, but with a fiery elegance and a sense of urgency. Watching her dance was like watching her have sex.

At first, Harry danced cautiously, as if he were afraid of people watching him. He moved his feet from side to side, but he body remained stiff. People were indeed watching the attractive couple, but after a while, Harry stopped caring. He put his hands on her waist and drew her closer.

Ginny felt her body respond to his touch as a spark moved up her spine. She could not believe that Harry, the clumsy man she thought she knew, could dance like he was dancing then. Sure, she was had had more talented partners, but dancing with Harry was like dancing with her reflection. He anticipated her every move, and responded. He did nothing to put her off balance, and never attempted to lead. He was not dancing with her and she was not dancing with him; they were dancing together.

He turned her around by the hips and she put her arms around his neck. Harry moved his hips to grind his erection across the small of her back and her ass. They fit together perfectly. She lifted her arms and placed them around his neck, caressing his hair with her fingertips. He rested his head on her shoulder and she let her head fall back and eyes close. Harry felt his body take control of his actions. For the very first time, he gave himself over to his feelings and did something he knew would change everything. Harry kissed her on the neck.

Suddenly, Neva was all too aware of her surroundings. Terror gripped her body as her breathing became irregular. Harry Potter had kissed her. He had kissed her right in the place he had discovered years ago. The place that made her shiver and moan and beg for more. More that she had been denied. Memories flooded back, of Harry neglecting her after the war, of her crying to Hermione and asking when he would come back to her, of her realizing that Harry had once again been reduced to a fantasy that she could only dream of. The air felt too hot and her skin felt too tight. The dance floor was claustrophobic. Untangling herself from her partner, she fled.

Harry closed his eyes. The dancing had been electrifying, but could have been passed off as friendly. They could have forgotten about it. The kiss was something different. It was something Harry knew they could not ignore. As he opened his eyes the people around him seemed to move in slow motion. The music hummed beneath the surface. None of that was important. The most important thing was to find Ginny. We have to talk about what happened, Harry thought to himself, realizing he meant a great deal more than just the kiss.

Neva pushed through the crowd with a sense of urgency she had not felt since the final battle. She had to get out of there. She had to move. She reached the exit and began to descend the flights of stairs to the side door. Her shoes clacked loudly against the metal, and the sound played over and over again in Neva's ears. At the first landing her heels got stuck in the grate, and with exasperation she slipped her feet out of her shoes and continued barefoot. She laughed, remembering a story about a princess who left her shoe at a party. She was no princess. When she reached the bottom of the stairs Neva twisted the handle of the red metal door and stepped into the night.

Harry shoved his way through the throngs of people in the cramped nightclub, asking if anyone had seen a girl in a silver dress. A bouncer pointed him toward a door covered by a velvet curtain. Harry thanked him and headed toward the VIP entrance. He flew down the first flight of steps and puzzled, picked up a pair of black high heels on the platform. Continuing, he ran down through the door and the street below.

The redhead was up ahead, walking barefoot.

"Ginny!" Harry called, running towards her.

She turned and he saw the tears in her eyes. "It's Neva, damn it! It's Neva!"

Panting, Harry stopped in front of her, "Neva."

Her beautiful face twisted in agony, her hair was wild and mascara ran down her cheeks. Her caramel eyes were glossy with tears.

"Do you know why I asked people to stop calling me Ginny, Harry?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

Harry shook his head.

"It's because that night, you know, at the Burrow before Bill and Fleur's wedding, when we were lying on the floor together and you were telling me that I couldn't have you because you had to go save the world… You kissed me once before you got up. You kissed me and said 'Ginny.' Like it was a prayer. Like it was a sacred word you were terrified to speak out loud." Neva inhaled, closing her eyes, "And all the time you were away, I replayed that memory. Of you just… saying my name with so much love… That's what got me through the war." She stepped away from Harry, wiping a tear from her eye, "I renounced the name Ginny when I realized you would never say it that way again."

Harry felt as if someone had torn out his heart. His head was spinning with more emotions than he could manage. He remembered that night. He remembered that last kiss and the word that came after it; her name. He knew it was the most precious word he would ever utter because it belonged to her.

"Why didn't you tell me that to start with?" Harry yelled in agony. "How can you say that? How did you know?"

"You didn't come to me," Neva shrugged, wiping her cheeks dry. "The war was over and you still didn't want me."

"That's not true!" Harry replied, tears now falling from his emerald eyes. "I waned you more than you could ever know! But every morning the Prophet wrote about who you'd been with the night before! And you would come to the Burrow with a new boyfriend every week!"

"That was after!" Neva cried. "I waited for you for months! After a while I got tired of pining! It was embarrassing! People would look at me and think, oh that's Harry Potter's ex-girlfriend, she still thinks he's going to come back to her!"

"The war didn't end right when Voldemort died! We were rounding up Death Eaters! Helping the wounded!" Harry yelled, growing more and more frustrated. "I couldn't just leave!"

"Well you should have done something!" Neva replied. "Something to let me know that you hadn't forgotten me completely. Something to show me that you still loved me as much as I loved you. Instead, when you were done with the war effort you started dating Lizzie!"

"I'm sorry, God damn it! I loved you!" Harry cried stepping toward her, cupping her damp face in his hand. "I still do," he whispered, lowering his face to hers in a kiss.

As Harry kissed her Neva felt as if her body was on fire. The first kiss had been shy and tentative. This kiss was hot and passionate. It was Like the kisses they had shared in the distant past, but with greater skill and an underlying sense of urgency. Ginny felt Harry's tongue beg to enter her mouth and she obliged, deepening the kiss. Neva had kissed a lot of people, but this kiss was different. This kiss felt right.

Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, they broke apart. They were both breathing heavily.

"Ginny," Harry breathed like it was the only thing that mattered, because it was.

Ginny's eyes once again filled with tears, realizing that he had said her name just as he had those three years ago. She reached out and straightened his glasses.

"Want to come see my flat?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes."

And without a second thought they apparated away.

That morning Harry awoke to find himself alone in Ginny's queen-sized bed. He smiled, remembering what had happened the previous night. Finally he and Ginny had had sex. Harry finally understood why it was called making love. He inhaled deeply, cherishing Ginny's scent; strawberries, freshly cut grass, and cinnamon, he decided. Finally, Harry sat up and wandered into the kitchen without bothering to put on any clothes.

Ginny was at the stove, flipping pancakes, naked. Harry crept up behind her and put his hands on her bare hips. She jumped and hit him lightly on the shoulder, smiling as she turned to greet him with a peck on the lips.

"Sleep well?" Ginny asked.

"Better than I have in ages," smiled Harry.

"Same here," Ginny smiled back.

"I love you," Harry said happily.

Ginny laughed, "You said that a few hundred times last night."

Harry chuckled, "Yes. And see, there are these four words you always seemed to respond with…"

Ginny scrunched up her nose and pretended to think.

"Fuck me harder, Harry?" She asked playfully.

Harry laughed, "No, the other thing."

"I love you too," Ginny smiled, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him on the nose.

"Good," he grinned back.

They stood there, smiling and looking into one another's eyes for a while before Ginny turned quickly and yelled, "Think fast!"

A pancake flew through the air, and just before it hit his face, Harry picked up a plate from the island beside him and caught the hot frisbee.

Ginny laughed, "I'd forgotten about your crazy seeker reflexes."

The two ignored the kitchen table and went into the living room to eat their breakfast on Ginny's couch. They ate with his arm around her and smiles on both of their faces.

"So all of those men meant nothing?" Harry asked, probing her eyes with his.

"Nothing," she replied. "And Lizzie?"

"Broke up with me because she realized that after all this time I was still in love with you."

"Really?" Ginny's eyes widened in shock.

Harry nodded, "She sent me to Moonshine last night because she knew you'd be there. She told me it was time I had a talk with you."

Ginny laughed, remembering what Lavender had said to her the previous night. "Maybe the planets really were aligned."

"Maybe, Neva," Harry replied.

She frowned.

"What?"

"Don't call me that," she replied. "My name's Ginny. Using the name Neva was just a way of forgetting you."

Harry laughed, "Ginny it is."

Ginny smiled. Finally, after so many years, she was happy.

Written for the Hogwarts Online prompt of the day: "why didn't you tell me that to start with?"

Fun side note: the song playing in the background during the club dancing scene was "Get Together" by Madonna from the album "Confessions on a Dance Floor." Also, Ginny says that Harry said her name "Like A Prayer"... Basically the theme of this oneshot was Madonna! I'm not sure why, but that's how it turned out!

Hope you liked it, please please leave a review! It would make my day.