GINNY fluffed her hair and scrutinized herself in the mirror. She was not altogether dissatisfied. She had put on a little flounced, empire waist dress for the first time. Made of a rich brown gloria, it was much girlier than anything she owned, and far better quality, too. Ginny loved the beautiful garment, but as she traced her fingers around the delicate hem and neckline, she felt ridiculously self-conscious.

Ginny rarely dressed up, but Dean had wanted to take her out for a fancy dinner date at Hogsmeade, and Ginny had nothing else to wear. When Aunt Muriel had given her this dress she had tried it on and had blushed to imagine Harry gloating at her, but - there was no point in thinking that way. Dozens of girls at Hogwarts were head over heels in love with Harry, and she felt very insignificant as she remembered that she was just one of them.

She applied the sheer pink lipstick she had borrowed from Hermione - lipstick was the only thing Ginny knew how to put on - and tried to banish the vision of Cho's heavily mascara-ed lashes and soft purple eyeshadow. She would never exude the glamour Cho had, with her array of stylish silken-blouses and fitted pants, but Ginny smiled at her reflection and reminded herself that some boys found her fairly decent date material.

Like Dean. Ginny couldn't help feeling a wave of warmth and gratitude as she threw her robes over her shoulders and ran down the girls' staircase to meet him. His face lighted up when he saw her - this dimunitive, but strong girl, with her smooth red hair and her pale, serious face. Was she really his girl? He crushed her in his strong arms and kissed her tiny features hungrily, slobbering on her cheeks and eyelids. Ginny pushed away to wipe her eyes, but catching the hurt look on Dean's face, she merely muttered a cleaning spell under her breath and slipped her hand in his.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"S'okay," Ginny whispered, giving him a tiny smile.

She didn't want to hurt his ego, and frankly she had never expected Dean to be the world's greatest kisser. But Ginny thought it was her fault that she felt nothing when his lips touched her, and other than that she had enjoyed every minute of Dean's company. He was easily the nicest boy Ginny knew.

"Are you all done your herbology paper?" she asked, refusing to dwell on awkward subjects.

"Yeah, I polished that rascal off last night. How did your Transfiguration test go?"

"Alright, I guess. I'm so glad it's over, though. I skipped Quidditch practice to study last night, and I hate missing practice. I don't know how Hermione does it. I'd be absolutely batty if I had to sit in the library all day. I like school just fine, but Quidditch is - life, you know? "

"Yeah, I totally know what you mean. When I'm flying up there, I feel alive. There's nothing like it. I've nothing against playing muggle football on a day when it's nice out, like today, but I'd play Quidditch anytime."

"Are you still cut up over not making the team?"

"Nah. Gryffindor needs our best players, and wizards like you have been at it a lot longer than us muggle-borns."

Dean referred to his blood-status without bitterness. His muggle family was a world apart from his Hogwarts life, and Ginny knew they had never been overly keen on his being a wizard, but like herself, Dean was too practical to dwell on things- on the surface, at least. Ginny admired his down-to-earth, sincere attitude.

"Have you seen the new Nimbus?" he asked Ginny excitedly. "It came out last Saturday. Let's go look at it after dinner."

"The lovebirds are here!" a flying cherub knocked open the door of Madam Puddifoot's in front of them. Ginny tried to duck as another cherub sprayed them with pink confetti.

"Um, Dean, we aren't going in, are we? Madam Puddifoot's is quite my idea of a romantic dinner." Ginny protested sarcastically.

"Oh my, It's Ginny and Dean, sitting on a broom,
K-I-S-S -- Merlin, they need a room!"

shrieked another golden cherub, whizzing around their ears.

Dean's nose wrinkled in disgust and it was evident he did not endorse this display of cheese. Ginny caught his eye, and they both giggled.

"We're going in - but you'll see." Dean lead the reluctant Ginny to a corner of the teashop, cluttered with tea sets and cast-iron tables and Grecian urns. Dean counted the Victorian tiles and then tapped expertly on one, revealing a small passage. He helped Ginny climb through.

Ginny found herself in an entirely different atmosphere. In utter contrast to the tackiness of Madam Puddifoot's, this hidden apartment was an elegant restaurant set out with gleaming white tables and dim candlelight. Veela music filled the room, and the ceiling was enchanted with the blue sparks of the brightest constellations. Couples were drinking wine and conversing quietly at the other tables, but as there was ample space between them, Ginny did not pay them any heed.

"What is this place?" she asked in amazement.

Dean grinned. "Madam Puddifoot's real restaurant: the teashop isn't all she runs. She's half Italian and she really has better taste than that. I found out about this from Seamus because his girlfriend is Madam Puddifoot's grand-niece - you see, usually only seventh years know about the restaurant. This place stretches to accommodate every couple, so it's never crowded. How do you like it?"

"Oh, it's ... simply lovely."

It was lovely. Ginny ordered pumpkin gnocchi and had never tasted anything quite like it: dear, little golden dumplings with a sweet buttery sauce. Dean had a delicious wild boar risotto. Ginny wasn't sure about ordering wine, but she took sips of Dean's. They shared a chocolate molten lava cake and a baked alaska for dessert at Dean's suggestion. The conversation never lagged. Ginny felt perfectly content. Dean was really wonderfully thoughtful and sensitive. When the meal ended, he helped Ginny wrap her robes around her shoulders, and Ginny felt a wave of warmth and appreciation wash over her again.

-----------

IT was in Dervish & Banges when they were admiring the Nimbus 3500a that things started. Ginny was stroking the broom handing fondly, and Dean was touching the silken broom hairs and devouring her with his eyes when she wasn't looking.

"It's beautiful." Ginny ached as she turned it over again and again.

"You're beautiful." Dean gushed with unprecedented warmth, and impulsively he wrapped his arms around her. Ginny really didn't mind, in fact, it was quite nice to feel his muscular arms around her and he had a nice, long body to snuggle against.

Out of the corner of her eye Ginny espied a figure she would recognize anywhere: tall, curly black hair, with thick glasses. Her heart skipped a beat. There was a flock of Romilda's girlfriends around him. At the far end of the room she heard Cho's shrill giggles.

Suddenly she pulled Dean into a soft kiss, gently probing his lips with her tongue until his mouth opened, and then urging him to delve deeply into her mouth. Dean's hands were sweaty and clamped to her waist. Ginny brushed herself lightly against Dean's chest, swaying rhythmically so that Dean's hands finally roved up and down her back as they continued kissing. As much as Ginny tried to focus on making a good snog, she could still hear Cho in the background, so with a seemingly careless foot-pop, she knocked a rack of broomsticks over at Cho.

The Ravenclaw seeker had her wand out in an instant, and the storeowner wielded his to reshelve the brooms.

"Can't you witches be careful? Brooms en't cheap." he grumbled. "Put that wand down, Miss Chang. You en't fightin' in my store."

"We're sorry, Mr. Banges." Dean apologized. "And Cho, I hope you're alright," he added nicely.

"Oh, the brooms didn't fall on me." Cho gave a nervous titter and pocketed her wand.

Dean still had his arm tightly around Ginny, the kiss still burning through his every vein. His skin was hot, and there was fire in the eyes that looked down at Ginny. Wow, Ginny thought, he likes me way more than I imagined.

They said nothing but Dean planted chaste kisses on her head all the way down High Street. Ginny wondered if Harry had noticed the broomstick fiasco. When they passed Hogsmeade station, Dean said, "let's go look at the lake," and Ginny still said nothing. She was leaning heavily onto him and didn't want him to let go.

Down beyond the thrushes they sat down in a patch of moonlight. Dean's hands were in Ginny's hair and he tried to kiss her again, turning her head with his hand. His palms were hot on her shoulders and the rough pads of his thumbs pressed on her neckline. Ginny could feel a hardness rubbing against her thighs and stomach.

"Dean." Ginny said, shifting to find a comfortable position so that she wasn't twisting beneath his weight, and weeds weren't scratching her legs.

She ended up kneeling for his next kiss, while he held her. As they deepened the kiss Ginny found herself in his lap, her small thighs straddling his waist. Something hard was tenting in his trousers, prodding against the cloth of her panties.

So that's what it feels like, Ginny thought, rubbing herself down on it a little curiously.

"Ginny," he groaned huskily. "You don't know what you do to me."

It was too dark for Dean to see Ginny's expression, but she clung to him.

"Ginny. I love you."

That undid Ginny. Dean loved her, far more than she loved him. But who was she to deny him the fulfillment of his dreams? If in her wildest dreams, she had come this close to Harry, she would barter her soul to be with him. And Dean burned with passion for her, as she burned for Harry - and Harry for Cho or some other girl. You couldn't please everyone, but Ginny was rapidly making up her mind to be Dean's sun, and moon, and stars for a night.

"Let's go back to the castle."

She thought Dean was frowning in the dark. "It's still early." he pointed out, hopefully.

"I know. I just don't want to be cold. I was thinking," she suggested nervously, "we could go to the Room of Requirement."

Her meaning was unmistakable. Dean's erection throbbed harder under her skirt. His face was hot with a blush she couldn't see, as he kissed hair and ears and neck and shoulders, murmuring, "Ginny, I love you."

"Could I carry you back?" he hesitated.

Ginny fit herself against him as he lifted her up. She still felt a little uncomfortable as his ribcage vibrated against her side, and his belt buckle dug into her back. It was just too bad that she didn't find Dean as sexy as Harry Potter, because he was really very good to her.

------------

"ARE you sure you want this?" Dean asked tremulously as he set her on her feet in the Room of Requirement.

Ginny turned her face to him with a brave smile and nodded. She had waited years for a boy to caress her, and what did it matter if Dean wasn't exactly that boy? She was tired of waiting. She wanted to know the touch of someone who loved her. Deftly she slipped his shirt buttons off one by one, kissing softly where she had unbuttoned, closing her eyes and determined to make her first time good, something to drive away her unsated daydreams of Harry.

"I just can't believe you're mine." he breathed intensely. He found her zipper and opened it to reveal the bare flesh of her back and her soft, white shoulders. Ginny stood on tiptoe to slide his shirt off his chest, then stepped back so that her dress dropped to her ankles. She knelt to remove her sandals, then stepped out of the clinging brown dress.

Dean had never seen a girl this naked before. His muggle family was religious, and his childhood friends wore modest bathing suits at Bible camp. He had never even seen a girl in a bikini, except occasionally in a movie, and then his mother had made him cover his eyes. And here was Ginny before him in a crimson bra and cotton undies, her skin white and glistening... Dean was afraid to touch her.

"You're nervous, aren't you?" she teased coyly.

"I- I've never done this before." Dean stuttered.

"Neither have I."

"But you're - you're -" Dean choked back his surprise. Everyone knew that half the Hogwarts boys were dying for Ginny, and there was a running bet on how many boys Ron would beat up to "protect" his sister this year. Dean blushed and froze awkwardly.

Ginny rubbed his arms comfortingly and he felt a cool, soft cheek against his dark chest.

"Tell me you love me," she coaxed, drawing circles down to his naval. She lingered over his abs. How did he have such nice, evenly toned, rippling abs? Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Ginny," his hands caressed her hair lightly. "You're the sweetest girl in the world."

Oh Gods, Ginny thought frustratedly, he's petting my head. We're never going to get anywhere. Her own fingers hesitated at the rim of his trousers. Ginny had heard many, detailed stories in the girls' dorms, and was titilated by fantasies of good sex. On the other hand, Dean seemed clueless, and she didn't want to lose his respect by acting like a slut.

She reached for his hands and cupped them over her breasts. She danced her fingers over his, until his thumbs were in the valley and finally slid under her bra.

"I'm all yours," Ginny said with a grin. To dispel his nervousness and her own, she pushed herself on tiptoes to kiss him as he caressed her breasts, kneading them gently until they were soft, warm, and pulsating in his palms. She felt one hand leave her left breast to cup her buttocks, easing her up to grant her better access to his mouth. Ginny's feet came off the ground and she wrapped them around his waist for support.

"You're beautiful," Dean moaned over and over again.

The other hand had found her nipple under her bra, which hardened under his touch.

"Am I doing this right?" he asked anxiously.

"You're perfect," Ginny reassured, kissing his jawline distractingly. She reached his earlobe and flicked her tongue over it, sucking below his ear. She must have found a sensitive spot, for Dean quivered and rocked her against him.

His right hand now followed her bra strap upwards, slipping it free of her shoulder. He reached along her back and brushed free her other shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he unhooked her bra.

Her hands had trailed down his long torso, still slightly pudgy with baby fat, soft, and beaded with sweat. She thought his left hand was beginning to timidly caress her butt cheeks, so she tightened their embrace, and as his right hand left for her lower body, her soft breasts came into contact with his bare chest for the first time. Shivers of delight rippled through both bodies.

Ginny was amazed when his strong hands cupped her bottom and raised her, as if she were as light as a feather, so that his mouth was on level with her chest. He took all of her small right breast into his mouth, suckling softly as Ginny kissed his the crown of his prickly, closely razored head.

"Oh, you're perfect." Ginny gasped with delight. He moved to the other breast and his hands were kneading her butt cheeks with a fervour of their own. Ginny hooked her knees on his broad shoulders to free his hands, which were now roving down the back of her thighs towards the wetness of her inner thighs. She arched her breast fully into him as she nibbled down his ear to the nape of his neck.

"So are you," Dean groaned. Desperately he reapplied himself to her breast. Her legs splayed further under his touch, and when his left hand closed against the wet fabric of her panties, his right trailed up to warm the breast that was hardened and exposed.

"Ginny... I've never felt anything like this before. This... is... the... most... amazing... thing... I've discovered." Dean breathed, panting.

"Better than Quidditch?" she laughed into his ear. "Don't stop."

Ginny never felt such disappointment as when he lay her down on the bed. Coldness engulfed her in the drafty castle room. Her skin longed for human touch and warmth. "I need you," she moaned.

Dean stood back to admire what he had been holding. Her auburn hair fanned out beneath her. Her dark eyes dilated with desire. Her lips were open and aroused. Her small breasts heaved. Her body was small and waif-like, and her legs, though thin, were well-sculpted and shapely. He knelt down to kiss each of her pink shelled, unbelievably tiny toes. Then he raised her hips and reverently slid her wet underwear off. She gave another soft moan.

He longed to touch her, but his own need was pressing. Groaning, he threw open his pants and kicked away his shoes. Suddenly realizing that he was fully naked before her, he panicked.

"Ginny, I don't know what I'm doing."

Ginny was studying his erect member. She had never really seen a boy's penis before - not counting her pre-pubescent naked brothers, memories she did not relish - so she couldn't judge if Dean was "big." It looked longer and thicker than anything that would fit in her, but she had a feeling it was only average-sized. She wondered if it was true that boy's penises were proportional to their shoe size - because Harry's feet were larger than Dean's.

"Can I?" she asked, getting down on her knees. Dean nodded nervously - what on earth was she doing?

She only kissed the tip of his penis lightly, but his hipped bucked. She put her two small hands gingerly on his length.

"Fuck, Ginny." he shrieked.

"I'm sorry," he added contritely, but the fingers that grazed her cheeks were hot and almost rough.

Ginny was filled with sheer terror when she found him looming over her on all fours. She involuntarily clamped her thighs together. Dean only parted her legs raggedly and his fingers pressed into her folds, searching urgently. A minute later he had positioned himself over her.

"Go slowly," Ginny pleaded.

"Ginny... I can't... I can't," Dean heaved. In frustration, he rammed into her.

Ginny tugged at his shoulders and screamed with pain.

"Harry!" she cried. "Oh God, Harry!"

-----------

TEARS were streaming down her face in pain and regret. Dean rolled down beside her, cupping her face in his hands.

"Ginny, you didn't have to do this." his deep voice vibrated with emotion.

Ginny continued crying.

"Come," he said kindly, but awkwardly. "Let's just forget this happened and...we'll...I'll get you your clothes."

"Noooo!" Ginny wailed.

Dean had started to slide off the bed when Ginny suddenly clutched his neck and buried her face in his chest.

Her soft, white breasts were pressed against him and Dean could feel his crotch twinging. He struggled to control himself, to return the hug, gently smoothing her red hair from her temple to her shoulder. His hands never went her below her shoulders, save on her lower back, but her skin was now touching his inch for inch: abdomens, thighs. A tear trickled from her face onto his nipple. He kissed her forehead, and willed his cock to stay away from the aching folds it was so magnetically attracted to.

"Dean, I'm sorry." she mumbled.

"I know, I know. I thought you said you had gotten over him."

The red tresses at his chest shook sideways.

"Ginny, don't go to bed with someone you're not in love with." he had cupped her chin again.

"I need you." Ginny arched tautly into him.

Dean held her back, and his face darkened.

"You aren't using me, are you?" But how could he resist her? This soft, nymph-like redhead so close to him.

"Please, Dean."

They had both been unsated from the previous attempt. So now, very gently, Dean touched and caressed her, and Ginny did not object at her: all her desires for mad passion had ebbed in the sadness she felt. The whole act was a betrayal, she didn't care anymore, and she was willing to let Dean do whatever he wanted. But as he kissed her, oh so gently, Ginny quivered, and under his feather light touch her skin tingled. He kissed her from her mouth down to her navel on the right, and from her toes up to her pelvis on the left. When his hands grazed her inner thighs, she trembled and parted her legs just a little. He stayed amongst her folds for a long time, his fingers brushing and parting layer after layer. When he positioned himself to enter her, he caught her mouth in a long kiss.

She was so absorbed in the kiss that she did not notice when he first slid into her. Then, her walls tightened and she felt waves of heat mounting. She moaned, and raised her hips to urge him on. He moved slowly, but with every inch she felt pure pleasure. They climaxed into one another with his lips still on her.

Later, she fell asleep in his arms. He was surprised at how well her soft curves fit against his hard body.