Ron looked the least bit pleased as Harry and Ginny entered the kitchen hand in hand. His petulant attitude was in stark contrast to Hermione's delighted smirk, emphasizing her continued belief that the two standing before her were 'meant to be.'

Ginny and Harry promptly sat at the wooden table without looking at one another. They were each bracing themselves against the onslaught of vicious words from Ron. Looking at each other would have reignited the flame within, which was barely even restricted at the moment.

"Would either of you care to explain?" Ron said through clenched teeth. The muscles in his jaw were hard with fury, the amount of pressure he exerted to 'maintain his cool' caused a bulbous effect of the muscles at his temples.

"What exactly is it that you would like us to explain, Ronald?" an exasperated Ginny replied. For years Ron had tried to intrude upon her relationships and she was tired of it. She was an adult and she now wanted everyone to treat her as so. She never commented on his antics with Hermione so he had no right to suggest anything about her tenuous relationship with Harry.

"What? You want to know what?" he sputtered out. "How about explain why you and Harry were practically fornicating on the back lawn."

"That's none of your business!"

"None of my business?! It's my business when my baby sister...," but he never got the chance to finish because Ginny interrupted in a furious retaliation.

"I'm no longer a child, Ron! What I do is no longer of concern to you, so drop it and leave me be!" To emphasize her point, Ginny grabbed Harry by the back of the neck and pulled him into a brief, passionate kiss as Ron sat looking flabbergasted. She pulled away after a few moments and looked towards her brother.

Ron's face was a brilliant shade of red. He was severely angry and would have had steam rolling out of his ears if it were possible.

"Ginevra Weasley! If you don't stop, so help me, I'll tell..." again he was cut off but this time by Hermione who had stamped on his foot under the table.

"Leave it be," she said quietly under her breath.

They all sat silent for a moment. Ron desperately wanted to vent his anger but held his tongue because he did not want to anger Hermione further. Hermione Granger was just not a witch one would cross or get in a duel with. Inside her sweet exterior was the fury of a lion that, when pissed off, would maul until no survivors remained.

Harry sighed finally, breaking the tangible silence. The other three looked at him waiting for what he had to say.

"Ginny," he began softly as he looked into her face, "we need to talk, privately."

Ron made a sound as if he wanted to reject such an idea but one look from Hermione and Ginny kept him silent. Two deadly witches were enough to keep even his hottest anger subsided.

Ginny got up from her chair and quietly made her way back out to the yard as Harry followed. She was curious to see what he had to say, but she mostly just wanted to be alone with his so they could finish what they started earlier.

When she reached the old oak tree some twenty feet from the door, Ginny stopped and turned to stare at her raven haired companion. She took in his thoughtful expression which caused his very kissable mouth to pout and his brow to furrow.

She was the one to break the awkward silence first. "I'm sorry about Ron, but you know how he is. He never quite knows how to put a stopper in it."

"I know "Harry began," but Ron's right." Her face fell at his words, she had no idea how he could possibly agree with her pig-brained brother. "We can't do this, Ginny. You...well you..." he couldn't get out the right words so he lapsed back into silence.

"Oh, God!" She turned away wrapping her arms to her chest as if she were standing there in the dead of winter instead of on a bright, sunny day. "What have I done?"

He heard in her voice the hopelessness he had once felt himself and a feeling like that was never forgotten, so that empathy reared an unexpected head. "Ginny..."

She turned back and all she could see were the hard planes of his face, the sunlight casting shadows over his features, his eyes glittering bright as he stared down her. "What?"

"You did nothing wrong. I'm sorry I lost control like that, I promise it will never happen again," he held up his hand silencing her protests. "Nothing...I can't let anything happen to you so it's best if we just aren't together. I know you don't understand that, but please, I beg you, listen to me. It won't always be this way, let's just see how it goes, shall we."

She nodded, biting her lip and hoping he didn't notice the hint of tears which threatened to spring up at the back of her eyes. For a moment, neither of them moved and Ginny felt the slow burn of unwanted desire. Because the frustration at the situation she found herself in was bubbling up into another kind of frustration. A frustration she knew that Harry was never going to satiate.

He opened his mouth as if to say something only to shake his head, like he was talking himself out o speaking, and turned away. He sighed as he made his way back to the house, leaving Ginny with her conflicting emotions.

One moment she wanted to cry, the next she wanted to run after him and force him to lover her, and the next she wanted to tear him apart. The emotions continued their cycle as she stood under the tree. As the minutes passed, the pain slowly ripped her heart out, piece by bloody piece.

Days passed by without one touch, glance, or stolen kiss from Harry. He kept to his word so the days turned to weeks, and the weeks became a month. Never once had his eyes strayed or his mind wandered. He had mad a promise to Ron, and himself, that he would never touch Ginny like that again, so the hours ticked by.

If he was completely honest with himself, he would admit to his mind wandering occasionally. There had been that one July day when he had watched her leave to go for a walk. She had come into the living room to inform Ron, who hadn't let her out of his sight for more than a minute, that she would be gone for a little while. Harry had watched her graceful movements as she swayed out of the room, the pert line of her bottom thrusting with tantalising appeal against the floaty material of her dress. At that moment, he had wanted nothing more than to tear that dress off with his teeth so that he could once again witness the beauty of her slim body. Abruptly, he turned away and refocused his mind on the Daily Prophet he had been reading, trying to stifle the twitching in his pants.

On another occasion, he had been pondering his past when she had walked up behind him. He had been walking around the back yard when he had started heading for the lake which was really a confection of water, shaded by trees, so that the sunlight dappled and glinted on the surface. He had been thinking at that time of the Weasley's specifically Ginny, and how they had something he would never have- even if he did become the most powerful wizard in the universe. They had a sense of continuity, of generations going back as well as generations who were yet to come. And through it all, the house, however haphazard it looked, remained, solid and enduring- a symbol of past, present, and future.

He had watched as Ginny walked over to join him. The sun was behind her, shining through her, so that she looked like someone caught in a spotlight. The sun had created a halo effect on her with its brightness, outlining the lush, young body beneath the summer dress she wore. She looked exquisite, like a goddess. It had taken all of his willpower to walk away, leaving her there alone.

Despite his few slip-ups, he continued to have as little contact with his brazen beauty as possible. He knew he would be unable to control himself again if they were alone with each other for even a millisecond. So he was intensely grateful to Mrs. Weasley who kept the four young wizards constantly busy around the house.

Even though Harry pulled away every day, Ginny continued to cling to the hope that he would waver and return to her once again. She wouldn't give up until she had him, but as the days passed, she couldn't help having her hope be bashed and bruised when nothing occurred.

[scene]

Ginny rolled over in her bed and buried her face into the pillow. It was dark in her room causing her to question why she had awoken from such a sound sleep when everything was perfectly quiet.

Then from somewhere in the house she heard a deep, low noise. She sat up in bed suddenly, straining her ears in the darkness, wondering what it was. Could it be a burglar? she kept asking herself because it was only her and Harry in the Burrow tonight.

The rest of the Weasley's had left. Hermione had gone home to visit her parents, Ron was staying at Fred's apartment in Diagon Alley, Mrs. Weasley had scheduled a holiday to her sisters a month ago so that Mr. Weasley would be home to watch over them, but he had received an immediate summons from work about a mirror that would trap anyone who looked in it inside of its small confines, muggle or wizard. With every person gone the house had almost been too quiet for Ginny to go to sleep. Had these circumstances presented themselves even a week earlier she would probably have jumped at the opportunity to have Harry all to herself with no time had take its toll, her energy on the matter was completely spent.

Then the noise came again, sounding like a mangled scream. She grabbed her cotton robe, slipping it on as she hurried toward the direction of the strange cry. It came from Harry's room. Now what was wrong? Her heartbeat quickened. Even though Harry appeared to be over the fight, it was obvious to those closest to him that there were some demons he was still fighting, causing him to be in low spirits. He tended to be moody and short with everyone lately. At this point, Ginny despaired that her and Harry would ever evolve into something more because of his resigned and temperamental attitude that caused him to avoid others and keep to had all but decided that he had forgotten about that day down by the lake or had gotten distracted by Ron's sudden interruption.

She sighed as she opened Harry's door. He would probably be furious at this invasion of his privacy but she didn't care. She refused to leave him alone making those terrible, bestial sounds.

He was sitting up in bed, his knees drawn sharply under his chin. Perspiration ran down his face and drenched his neck and chest. With shaking hands, he pushed back his hair to look at Ginny through glazed eyes.

"Harry! What is it?"

"Could you get me some water?"

"Of course." Moving swiftly, she went through the hall to the only bathroom in the entire house. Grabbing the sparkling glass on the edge of the sink, she filled it with cool water. When it was filled, she hurriedly made her way back to his room.

She handed him the water and her drank it in one gulp. She sat down on the edge of the bed, taking the empty glass from him, and putting it on the bedside table.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I don't know." He was trembling violently. "There're some little white pills in my top drawer. Could you get me a couple?"

"Of course."

She retrieved the pills but stood by the edge of the bed holding the bottle. It was blank, there wasn't a single mark indicating what it held.

"What are these?" she inquired curiously, shaking them lightly.

"Sleeping pills," he responded rather weakly, his face was still very pale making him appear as if he were some sort of specter haunting the night.

"Why not take a sleeping draught?"

"I stink at potions and it leaves a horrid taste in your mouth afterwards. I prefer to take the fastest way out."

She handed over the bottle reluctantly.

"I heard you scream." Ginny put her hand on the warm damp flesh of his arm.

He rested his elbows on his knees and pushed at the hair that kept falling across his face. "It was just a nightmare," he told her, and he smiled rather shakily. "They're relatively common after any traumatic event," he added knowing most would automatically assume something was wrong with him.

She stroked the hair back from his damp forehead, "Can I get you anything else?"

"No, it's okay."

He leaned back against the pillows and his eyes closed sleepily. Ginny gently pulled the sheet over his taut body.

Although he seemed to be resting peacefully, she didn't want to leave him. It could happen again, but next time she might not hear him.

Quietly, she took off her rove and slipped into the bed beside him, this way if anything happened she would be close by. She snuggled down beneath the covers leaving space between them. Even so the warmth of his body penetrated her. A shudder of longing and desire shot through her. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. She rolled on her side and closed her eyes. Harry moved restlessly against her. His arm encircled her waist protectively. Ginny turned over and made herself comfortable against the hard length of his body. She'd get up early in the morning. He'd never know that she'd stolen these few moments of ecstasy.

[scene]

Butterfly kisses flickered against the soft skin of her cheek. Warm lips burned a pathway down her throat toward the cleavage of her breasts. Ginny moved restlessly in her sleep and opened her eyes. Harry was leaning over her.

"Morning," he whispered.

"M-morning." Ginny suddenly remembered where she was and why. "H-how are you feeling?"

"Much better thanks to you," he murmured with a slight smirk upon his lips.

She touched his forehead with trembling fingers. "You feel much cooler."

"Maybe on the outside," he said, his voice slowly starting to get husky and low.

She tried to move form beneath him, but his arms had her pinned against the pillow. His nakedness and the warm smell of him were sending tremors of passion through her. She took a deep steadying breath.

"I should get up," she told him. "I didn't mean to stay this long."

"I'm glad you stayed." His eyes were warm with desire. He leaned forward and opened her mouth with his lips, moving over her so that his entire body weight was pressing her into the bed. Pushing aside her thin nightgown, he caressed her breasts. She thrust her body towards his. Her hands found their way to his shoulders and lightly moved down the hard contours of his back. His lips left hers for a moment to touch her ear. "You're lovely," she heard him whisper, before her world shattered to a glorious kaleidoscope.

Ginny savoured the feeling of his lips on her body and his strong hands grazing her most sensitive parts. She had never thought that such a perfect first time would exist for her, but Harry proved her so very wrong. She whimpered in pleasure as he thrust into her for the first time, sending a burning fire throughout her entire body. The pain was suppressed by her unending desire and need for the man atop her. Ginny felt as if she had found a piece of heaven on Earth and she never wanted to let is loose.

[scene]

Sunshine shimmered through the light blue curtains and Ginny turned over sleepily wondering where she was. Then she saw Harry's raven-black head on the pillow next to hers and smiled. With tentative fingers, she reached out and touched his hair. He rolled over and looked at her, his green eyes soft. Last night he had thrown caution to the wind and let his body take over. He was sick of fighting off his feelings because it was the 'right' thing to do.

"I'm sorry," she whispered softly.

"What for?"

"For waking you up."

"I've been awake for a long time," he told her, "watching you." He reached out and wound a strand of her ginger hair around his fingers, "You don't regret making love with me?" he asked.

"No," she told him, stretching luxuriously beneath the sheets. Then suddenly a thought struck her, "You don't regret it, do you?" she asked worriedly looking into his face.

He smiled and reached out for her, rolling her so that she was lying on top of him. He thought it would be easier to show her his answer rather than tell her. His lips explored her neck and throat while his hands enticed the creamy whiteness of her breasts. Soon his hands began to stray possessively over her again. She felt desire flame through her again. As her body met his, awareness filled her. For the first time in her life, she felt like a woman. His woman...