Chapter 2: Secrets

Ginny felt heady sensing Harry's breath inhaling the scent of her hair. They lay frozen for a long time with a mere hint of life in the subtle movement of Harry's head, as he was trying not to miss out on breathing in a single strand cascading over her shoulder on to his face. A good while later Ginny realized that Harry was lost, yet again.

She called him in by turning her cheek firmly against his nose and ended up getting a soft kiss just under her earlobe as Harry dropped a heavy breath and snapped out of his trance momentarily before he continued his respiring ritual again. Ginny had never imagined breathing would render her so breathless. She took a deep breath, brought one hand to Harry's cheek and slid the other into his hair.

Harry's eyes were still half closed as she leaned in to bring him back with a hard kiss on his partly open lips; within no time he was awakened to a far engaging diversion.

Aeons later both were left heaving nose to nose with Ginny's head cushioned on one of Harry's hands on the grass; the other hand clutched tightly at her, now somehow, bare waist.

"Let's take a walk around the lake." Harry raised himself from Ginny's supine form and moved away presto taking deep calming breaths.

"Chicken, are we?" Ginny got up quickly and placed a soft hand on his arm. She was thrilled to see Harry in such turmoil knowing that she was the cause but a far greater satisfaction came from knowing that she alone was the calming balm. She wanted him to look at her then …with eyes burning with desire; years of longing would get dissolved in that one look of desperation on his handsome face. She had yearned and prayed for six long years; she was definitely not letting it go.

"Don't push it Ginny. You have no idea." Harry fought hard not to turn to look at her knowing that she was thoroughly enjoying his predicament and was smug beyond satiation by his response to her mildly passionate kiss. He prayed she would let it go at least for now. Living his dream for the short few minutes was enough to take him through a few more lifetimes of longing for Ginny Weasely.

"Ok, walk we will….if you tell me your secret." Ginny pushed anyway.

Harry knew exactly what she was talking about.

"I have no secrets," he replied innocently trying his best to ignore the soft touch on his arm.

Ginny's hairline and ears were still tingling with the residual caresses of his nose. She had no idea her mane would evoke so much wistfulness within him. She instantly knew that he had done this before not just once but many times. Her dreams were merely banal compared to what had just transpired. She wanted him to come clean and make it corporeal.

"Okay, then tell me about the sniffing ritual." Ginny was not the one to give up easily, rather at all, in such circumstances.

Busted! Harry couldn't help but laugh. This was Ginny after all. Now, his Gin.

He wanted to give her the joy of his confession. He knew she would not laugh it off although it was just that - utterly and completely laughable. To see her face light up with happiness out of pure contentment, and her eyes tender with reciprocity, when he admitted to his obsession with her hair, would be a prize memory to keep forever. But he wanted something more.

"If I tell you my secret you have to tell me yours - a secret for a secret. That's the deal. Take it or leave it." Harry persisted challengingly to her mirthful brown eyes.

"But I have no secrets to tell or no hair sniffing rituals to talk about." Ginny gleamed defiantly, engaging his green eyes in an unyielding lock.

They had begun their walk around the lake. The sensation of their occasionally brushing fingers was as much as Harry could take at this time. Ginny did not try to hold his hand in hers.

"Everybody has one." Harry wasn't relenting. "And I want to know yours before I tell you mine, Gin," he added softly, spanning her eyes.

What on earth was he on about? And how was it a secret if he already knew about it? Beat that!

Ginny's brain got busy churning out happenstances that one would categorize as secrets.

Could it be he knows about THAT!? …or that! …or that! Jesus! She was screwed. What all does he know? He definitely knows something…at least one thing.

"Well, if you want me to invent one, I sure can." Ginny countered keeping her gaze fixed not missing the swaying of his eyeballs. She was Gred and Forge's sister after all.

Harry sensed the fever of panic behind the façade of a deliberate smile. Ginny was trying hard to hide behind the curtain of nonchalance she was struggling to weave over the fragile walls of vulnerability accumulated over a long, long time of six years. Harry felt angry at himself for the pain he had unintentionally and unknowingly inflicted upon her, during these past six years that saw their relationship grow from a mere acquaintance to a close friendship, and ultimately, exploding into an attraction that was beyond the control of either individual involved. He wanted to give her every possible reason to feel the kind of happiness that would blast away every single cloud of sadness that had ever shrouded her heart. His own delirious soul had been longing for the companionship of her fiery spirit, for quite some time now.

"No doubt you can, but I will know it is so. Try the original, Gin.". Harry was enjoying this thoroughly now. A much-needed distraction from his earlier frenzied pursuit.

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