Another Harry/Ginny oneshot...although I don't really know how I came up with this but...here you go x
~Ginny~
It's strange how such familiar places can change when your perception of their inhabitants changes. Harry's dorm, for example, I spent up to four hours here every school night all the way through my first year, crying to Ron and trying to catch a glimpse of his famous best friend. So, obviously I was utterly sick of the sight of it. It was always…homely…calm colours, but never boring, wood carvings, house plants, whole bookcases full of books (always a comfort to me) and a huge comfy bed. Friendly. Walking through it now not much has changed. I stroll easily through the common room with a quick "Hello" to my ex, Dean and set about browsing the books on the various shelves in the room. To be honest there's nothing spectacular. I told mum I was going to look for a new copy of Wuthering Heights after mine "fell apart" (I never did like Austen), but in truth I was just being curious, well nosy but no heroine would ever get a book written about her if she wasn't just a little curious.
I spent what I considered to be a reasonable amount of time browsing before remarking in my best monotonnous voice (I loved acting when I was younger and the gift never quite leaves you) "Didn't Harry do GCSE English?" It's a daft question because English is compulsory; I should know being in my GCSE year myself but it attracts Dean's attention; which I'd hoped it would.
"Yes, he did. Found what you're looking for?"
"No such luck. Do you think Harry might have a copy?"
"He might. I don't think it's likely though."
"Do you think I could check? I'll be quick, only my paper's due in next week and there are no copies anywhere…I mean I've searched literally everywhere I could think of and if I don't find one I'm sure to fail."
"Well be quick then" he mutters eyeing me suspiciously, and for a moment I'm sure I've been rumbled, I'm sure that she knows my secret but then that's not such a bad thing. As far as I can tell Harry and Dean don't talk much about relationships.
"Thanks Dean!"
I bounce upstairs, keen to look the part of the innocent schoolgirl, my eyes straying once again to the painting on the wall near the top of the stairs. Below it are school photographs and baby pictures drawn with unsteady hands from baby siblings but this one is different. It was painted during a phase Harry went through of wanting to become an artist. It's called "the artist's mother" I've always stopped and stared at it, even before I realised my feelings for Harry. Art is one thing that has always eluded me, or at least being talented at art…the Mona Lisa doesn't run away from me or anything…although if she saw me in the mornings…
I snap myself out of my revere, I don't have much time, Dean will probably come and check on me in a minute. I take the last few steps in a bound and steer myself round the corner. And stop.
The door is almost closed, tiny shards of light pouring through the gap between the door and the wall. I bend closer, like a child at Christmas trying to see through the rips in the wrapping paper without opening the present. Then temptation gets the better of me. I tease the door open inch by inch, take a deep breathe and step inside. Honestly, I couldn't be any more like a teenage girl if I tried.
Peering round the room I immediatley spy what I've been looking for. One single shelf. On it is a selection of books. I ignore the first few and pass over them to the next, an Artemus fowl book and furthest away from the light a complete group of Narnia books. I nearly squeal in delight when I see them. I reach out to grab one but misjudge the distance and end up knocking the whole shelf flying. Typical.
"No! No! No!"
I fling myself onto my knees desperate to salvage the situation but one book has fallen just out of my reach. I stretch forward, determined to get it.
~Harry~
Life can really suck. I mean one day you're in school, achieving good marks and have good friends even if you're not Mr Popularity and then wham you hit 16 and suddenly there's all this pressure on you to quit school and get yourself a job... either that or kill the most powerful dark wizard of all time. Seriously. But I suppose one good thing about the store is that they hire enough of us that they can afford to let you sign off early every now and then. At least I'm home now.
Seamus' in the front room watching some rubbish on the telly. I shrug off my coat and head upstairs. Not quite prepared for what I find there. Because I definatley did not just leave my door open this morning. With a load of snooping pre-teen kids it's something you learn pretty quickly: always shut your dorm door.
I frown and burst in ready to shout my lungs off at whoever's in there. And loose the power of speech. Because there, on the floor, in my room is a pretty red head. Well, I say pretty, I can only see the back of her but she's shapely…not thin but definetley not fat either. It's not her back I'm paying the most attention to anyway. She's leaning over frozen in the task of reaching out for something on all fours but her school-style skirt is halfway up her back revealing a set of black lace panties. I can't help but gape. I am no pervert but I am a teenage boy and this isn't exactly a normal situation.
When I finally speak my voice is unsteady, deeper even than usual and somehow primitive.
"Who the hell are you?"
Ginny~
There's an edge to his voice which I can't quite define. I've heard it a thousand times but never quite like this. I wonder what he's thinking. I look in front of me determined not to look at him and try once again to retrieve the book. I hear a stifled growl and freeze.
"Your…skirt"
My skirt? Huh? I reach round to tug at the hem of my pleated school skirt but my hands meet with nothing. I reach higher, heart pounding as my hand makes contact with the Hermione of my underwear. I squeak and sit bolt up. I can't bear to move. His reaction proves he doesn't recognise me yet and although I know I'll have to face him I'm in no hurry for it to happen soon.
"Who are you?"
No comment. You don't want to know.
"Who are you?"
No comment.
"Fine what are you doing here?"
I gulp and turn slowly to face him, letting my hair fall over my eyes. I hear him gasp and then stutter.
"You? But…what…ah…no...Um…"
I pull my knees closer to my body and begin to wrap a strand of hair round my index finger. I'm strangely calm I notice. I wait for his exclamations to subside.
"Err…Harry?" I whisper uncertainly. I wanted our relationship to change…well I wanted us to have a relationship full stop. I'd known him for so long and yet the entire sum of our conversations over all those years could be added up into less than an hours worth of talk. I didn't know what to say. I had to change in his eyes. I had to grow up for him. Hey, hey, why not go for a joke?
"Were you just staring at me?" I say forcing a smile onto my face.
"No…I…"
"You were…"
I get up, suddenly sure of my movements. If it all goes wrong, I reason, I can pass it off as a joke, something I could embarrass him in front of Marko with later. I cross the room towards him in a few steps until we're almost touching.
"Did you like that?" I cover his mouth gently with my hand before he can reply.
"Did you like it? A bit…intimidated?" I lean closer and reach behind him closing the door with a flick of my hand. Reaching up I grasp his chin in my hand and push us against the wall laughing softly and pressing my body up against his.
"Intimidated?" he coughs.
"U-huh"
I trail my hands from his chin down to his chest, sliding them under his top to gently caress his skin. I pause.
"Do you want me to stop?"
No comment. I'll take that as a no then. I let my hand travel lower until they pull on the waistband of his jeans. I bite my lip slightly. I want him to think of me like a person, not a whore. And he still hasn't spoken.
"Harry?"
"Intimidated? ... Two can play at that Miss Hope."
He spun me round so quick that I felt my head knock slightly on the wall. His body pressed up against me, leaving no room between us. I gasped. This. Is. Heaven. He reaches out and grabs my neck gently, tilting my gaze up to his own. He raises an eyebrow. I bite my lip again not wanting to say yes but not wanting him to pull away. He takes my silence as positive and lets his hands roam over the contours of my body, from my face to my shoulders to my waist to my hips and to my thighs. He stops at my knee and strokes it idly before yanking it up around his waist. I can't help it. I moan. This is a better response than I could ever have dreamed of. I wrap my hands around his shoulders and kiss his neck slowly, conscious of the other people in neighbouring rooms.
The landing floorboards creak. There is barely time to exchange shocked glances and throw ourselves apart before the door flies open to expose Ron.
"Dean said Ginny was looking for a copy of Wuthering Heights?"
Harry nods numbly.
"Here take mine."
I reach out slowly for the book.
"Thank you, um" I risk a glance at Harry under my lashes "I guess I'll be going now then…"
"Why don't we call your mum…you can stay for dinner."
"Err…thanks but I kinda have to go, I'm meeting Hermioney in town in half an hour, but thanks Ron." I say as I head out of the door "Thanks Harry".
He doesn't reply but his expression says enough. I shiver slightly then make my exit along the hall my head whirling from what had just happened. Well I'm pretty damn sure he doesn't think of me as a child anymore.
Ginny~
By the time I pass the threshold I'm jogging. By the time I pass the enterance to the house I'm sprinting. By the time I pass the street sign I'm flat out. By the time I arrive at the Café I'm close to passing out. I stay wheezing in the doorway for a moment waiting for my eyes to become focused but even through the haze I can see the pixie-girl that I'm looking for.
"Hermione?"
Thank Goodness. I don't think I could stand here much longer without keeling over. Blinking rapidly I shuffle over to the table nearest to the window and stare at the girl currently occupying the only seat. She hasn't noticed me yet despite my nearly screaming the café down in my haste to reach her. I role my eyes. Bloody daydreamers. But her silence, at least gives me time to look at her properly. Her face is perfectly mirrored in the face of her mobile, her blue eyes glaring at the screen, daring it to ring. Oh, right the ex-boyfriend issue. I sigh wearily, ready for the frenzied texting to begin. Hermioney nearly always has a boyfriend. It's not her fault. She just does. I always knew this one was going to be trouble though.
"Hermione?" I coo as softly as I can manage which, seeing as I've just rung about two miles is not very softly.
"Huh? Oh sorry love" She chimes, her incandescent blue eyes awake and alert. She tilts her head to the side slightly"You alright Ginnyny?" she asks her eyes wandering from my flushed face to the ruffled hem of my skirt and her eyebrows rise comically "what have you been up to".
Despite everything I smile. Trust Hermione to cut the crap and go straight for the important thing. I laugh breathily.
"Funny you should ask…"
