In the quiet semi-darkness of the moonlit bedroom, Harry and Ginny Potter try and shift awkwardly into a more comfortable position under the blankets. Relaxing with her back against his chest and his arms around her, they snuggle close, their bodies only slightly sticky with a sheen of sweat covering the both of them.
Despite the late hour, they can hardly find the desire to enter the awaiting arms of Morpheus, so instead, he hums into her ear-he doesn't exactly know the tune, although he thinks it to be some old song of Celestina Warbeck's-and she smirks, closing her eyes and humming along.
"Do you remember the first time we met?" Ginny asks, although she knows it's a pointless question-she's already asked plenty of times, but never has her new husband been annoyed by it.
"Of course," he replies. "You wanted to go to Hogwarts with your brothers, and I was this scrawny little thing who had no idea how to get onto the platform."
"I'm sure you were handsome even then," she teases.
"Come off it."
After a few moments of silence, it's Harry who speaks again: "Do you remember that valentine you sent me in your first year?"
"Merlin, don't bring that up!" Ginny exclaims, covering her reddening face with her hands. "That was mortifying."
"I liked it," Harry assures her, knowing full and well that at the time, he was just as mortified when it had been delivered. "How did that song go, again? 'His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad, his hair is as dark as a blackboard-"
"I wish he was mine, he's really divine,"
"The hero who conquered the Dark Lord," they chorus together, and they both laugh at the memory.
"That was the greatest song I've ever heard," says Harry with a false air of solemnity, causing Ginny to twist around in his embrace to playfully hit his arm.
"Liar," she says. Harry only chuckles and buries his face in her red hair, inhaling the flowery scent he has grown accustomed to, but still makes him feel giddy with pleasure.
"I love you, Ginny Potter," he whispers to her.
"Mm...I love you too, Harry. Now come on, let's try and sleep before Ron Apparates in here to make sure we're not doing anything."
"You know he was bluffing when he said he was going to do that," Harry points out.
"I wouldn't be so sure," says Ginny darkly. Pulling the covers over her head, she turns over to press herself into her husband's chest, then kisses him slowly and deeply. Intertwined, the two stay like that, basking in the glow of newly-pronounced love and passion, the heat fueling them. Sleep eludes them that night, but it's not at all missed. Here, in this moment, all they need is each other.