Author's Note: So here it is: the long awaited chapter. Okay, so the wait wasn't as long as I expected it to be. I just couldn't stay away. And like they say, write when you have inspiration. So we get into Ginny's head now.
I just wanted to take a moment and say a big thank you. When I first posted this story I never expected that so many people would read and enjoy it. :)
1. to all those who follow my story. It really does mean the world to me.
2. to all those who have favorited. It's really humbling that I could write something that could speak to you. I'm honored that this is a story you want to come back to.
3. To everyone who comments: thank you, thank you, thank you. Have I said thank you yet? Your feedback is so appreciated and exceedingly important to my story writing. Especially to those who leave a few reviews. I love to see the continuity of your thoughts. For those who don't, I strongly encourage you to have your voice heard. I do listen.
Without further ado:
...
Ugh. My head is going to explode. I turn over in bed, and pull the covers over my eyes. If I refuse to acknowledge that the day had come, then maybe it would take pity on me.
"You're up," comes Della's voice from somewhere back in the real world. With a grunt, I pull her heavy blankets away and face reality. Della is standing in her doorway with two glasses in her hands.
"I think I'm dead." I tell her. It felt like there were ice picks in my skull.
"Well you look a bit like death. But unfortunately, you're not dead, just really hungover. Here," She tells me, coming into her room and handing me one of the glasses.
"What's this?" I ask, pushing myself up to sit, crossing my legs in front of me. I take the glass and sniff it. It smells horrible.
"It's a hangover potion. Believe me, it may smell foul, but it does the trick." She answers, with a nod.
"Cheers." I say, and pinch my nose closed and gulp it down. The taste is far worse than the smell! I drink it in two long swigs, and I swear it's going to come right back up. But instead, I immediately start feeling better.
"Blech, that may be the worst thing I've ever ingested. But I think it's working...Thanks for letting me crash in here last night. What time is it, anyway?" I ask, looking at the sunshine that shone through her bedroom window.
"It's no problem, and it's 10:30. And speaking of last night, how's Harry doing?" She asks me with raised eyebrows, settling her back against the tall footboard.
"How did you know?!" I ask her surprised and mortified. Could she read my mind? Had I mumbled something in my sleep? She just shakes her head, and points to me. I am confused at first, until I look down and see that I am still wearing Harry's cloak. I was busted.
"Spill your guts Red." she tells me, getting up and shutting her door. She plops back down on the bed eagerly waiting. "Oh, here. This too." She says suddenly, handing me the second glass, which was hot tea. I thank her and take a few sips.
"So the last time I saw you, you were leaving the club with a rather attractive man. How did you end up at Harry's?" she asks, helping me get started.
"I don't know, I just couldn't go through with it. We got back to his place, and I couldn't even kiss him. All I could think about was Harry. Harry's eyes, and his arms, and his hands. About being pressed up against his living room wall before the quidditch match. Ugh! I was so furious that I couldn't get him out of my head. I meant to just come back here, forget my one night stand plan, and go home. But instead of giving the cab driver my address, I found myself telling the driver to go to Grimmauld Place."
"So what happened when you got to Harry's?" She asks.
I feel myself go lightheaded just thinking about it. "He told me he loved me..." I answer breathily. Della's mouth drops open, and she slaps both of her hands down on the mattress.
"Bloody. Hell. Are you serious?" She asks me wide eyed, emphasizing every word. I nod, while I concentrate on moving air into my lungs, as the events of last night hit me like a tidal wave.
"Yeah," my voice scratches out. "I went over there to give him a piece of my mind. Tell him how furious I was that he had pushed his way back into my life. But then I got there, and the way he looked at me when he first saw me...well it made me feel..." I grapple for the right word.
"Desired? Powerful? In control?" Della offers.
"Yeah, a bit of all of those." I agree. "It was like something came over me. That something was probably all the alcohol I had last night." I added with an ironic chuckle. Yes alcohol definitely played its role well last night. "I just wanted him to want me. And to be perfectly honest I wanted him too." I finish blushing.
"Wait, so did you two...?" Della asks confused.
"No."
"Oh," she sounds disappointed.
"We were pretty close though," I admit.
"Oh!"
"Yeah, we...I got a bit carried away. He tried to stop us a few times...but I made it pretty difficult for him. Merlin, I took off my dress!" I admit totally embarrassed, collapsing back onto the pillows.
"Wow Ginny, I guess all it takes is the right guy to bring out the sex kitten in you," she teases, half serious.
"Just him in particular." I admit to the ceiling, annoyed by the truth of it.
"If it's any consolation, I'm rather sure a lot of women would take their dresses off for him." She tells me with a chuckle.
"Yeah, I don't doubt it. You should have seen him without a shirt on." I tell her, sitting back up. I shake the thoughts from my head, but I can't help but shudder at the memory of running my hands down his well honed chest and abs.
"Oh, I believe you. I trust that he is just as yummy looking without clothes as he is with them. So what happened? Why did you wake up in your roommate's bed and not his?" Della asks, pulling one of her many colorful pillows onto her lap.
I sit there quietly for a moment, before pulling my knees up to my chest hugging them to me. "We were going at it. We were to the point where we were about to...at least I thought we were. I mean, he asked me if I wanted to go to his bed. We only made it to the couch." I admit with a blush. Della gives me a proud nod. With a long exhale, I continue, "Then he stopped us again, and said he wouldn't. I thought he was just being stubborn and noble. We both wanted it. We're both adults. So why not? We argued back and forth, him saying no, and me asking why until he finally said he wouldn't because he loved me..." I finish and I feel my hands shaking.
"So what did you say?"
"Nothing, I left..." I tell her, as tears prick my eyes.
"You're telling me that the man who you were head over heals in love with; the man who blew into town, took your virginity and left you with a broken heart; the man who has been looking at you like you are the only girl in the world for the past four months told you he loved you last night...The same man who refused to take advantage of your drunken state, and made sure you got home safely, told you he loved you and you said NOTHING?!" Della asks me, shaking me by the shoulders.
"Della, stop! It's not that simple!" I argue, pulling out of her grasp.
"I'm not saying its simple, I'm just saying that you two need to figure this out. Why on earth did you run?" she argues with me.
"Because...I'm over him! I got over him. He was out of my system. I had moved on..." I tell her frustrated.
"Ginny, you went to his house and for all intents and purposes jumped him. I'm not sure we have the same definition for 'over someone'." She tells me skeptically.
"It's just...It's so messy! Who knows if he'll even be here tomorrow? It took me so long to move forward after he left. Now he's back and he's in my space, and he's protective and kissing me and he's telling me he loves me. And I can't think straight!" I finish, putting my head in my hands.
"Okay, Red." Della breathes out cautiously. We sit there on her bed in silence. She breaks the quiet after a while, "Ginny, I know this is all really messy and hard. And I get it, it's your heart. The most fragile thing we girls possess, but I mean...it's Harry. And that means something. Something deeper than I know."
I sit there silently listening to her words. I feel myself getting annoyed with her rather wise advice. Della didn't understand what it was like with Harry. I just needed to be alone to think. "Thanks Della," I say hollowly, getting up off her bed. "I need to get ready. I told Hermione I would be over at her place at noon today, and help her put together some last minute details for tonights dinner." I finish, moving toward the bedroom door to leave.
"Hold on one second Red!" Della calls after me sharply. I stop and turn back to her, doing nothing to hide the impatience on my face.
"You can give me that look all day, but it won't change what happened last night, and it certainly won't make things easier this morning. Listen Ginny, you know I'm always on your side. No judgement, no explanation. But sometimes I think being on your side means being on Harry's too." She finishes crossing her arms. I don't know how to respond to that. I just give her a weak nod, and go to the bathroom.
...
After a long hot shower, I feel a bit better. Less frayed, stronger somehow. I put on a my long sleeved, dark green lace dress, that had a champagne lining. We had a big family dinner tonight. Hermione's family was coming into town for the week leading up to the wedding, and Mum wanted to have a nice big dinner with everyone to kick off the wedding festivities.
I left quickly, with a short goodbye to Della. I really did not want to have to a repeat of our conversation earlier. She gave me a lot to think about. Apparating to Hermione's apartment, I am ready to dive head first into frivolous wedding crafts if it means that I don't have to talk about last night with anyone.
I knock loudly on her apartment door, and Hermione answers quickly.
"Hey Ginny, how's the best Maid of Honor in the world?' Hermione asks me perkily. Someone had her hangover potion this morning. Time to put my acting skills to the test.
"Fine," I tell her with a screwed on smile, coming into her apartment. "I am still a bit tired though. Would you mind if we got coffee?" I ask her through a huge yawn.
"That sounds fantastic. I've been dragging all morning." She agrees, turning and grabbing her coat from the hallway coat rack. Yes a big delicious latte would be just what I needed to get through this day.
"Ron!" I call through the apartment. "We're getting coffee, do you want anything?" I head to the kitchen to see if he's in there.
"Oh, Ginny. He's not home. He's been gone all day. Called into work really early this morning." Hermione explains, following me to the kitchen.
"Oh, wow. On a Saturday, and the week before the wedding too. That's the worst. What for?" I ask, rummaging through my coat to make sure I have my coin purse.
"Ron said something about a breakthrough on the Explosion at the Larkin's game. They found out where the people who did it are hiding out. I'm sure Harry's with him. It's such a relief that they're working together again..." Hermione trails off when she sees my face.
"Harry's with them?" I ask, panic rising in my voice.
"Of course he is. He's lead Auror on the investigation." Hermione explains, as if this is common knowledge.
"What time did Ron leave this morning?" I ask quickly.
"Um...I'm not completely sure, but I think sometime before six," she answers confused.
"Oh my god." I breathe out, before dropping into a chair at her small kitchen table.
"Ginny, what's wrong? You're making me worried." Hermione tells me, sitting down in a chair opposite me.
"Harry should not be out there. Not in the state he's in." I tell her seriously.
"What are you talking about? What state is Harry in?"
"If he left the same time as Ron, that means he's maybe had 2 hours of sleep. He'll be a walking target." I tell her, my eyes going wide.
"Ginny, you need to explain yourself." Hermione tells me harshly, she's worried now too.
"I...I was with him last night, and I didn't leave his place until three this morning." I start, not even caring about telling another person about the night before. "And when I left...he was pretty upset. We both were. Harry shouldn't be out there." I finish, feeling my breath coming quicker. It feels like my throat is closing.
"Oh..." Hermione puffs out. She seems to notice the state I'm in, and starts trying to comfort me, "Ginny, don't worry. Harry's really tough. I've seen him do really amazing things when we've all had little sleep. He'll be fine. And Ron will watch out for him. You know those two are so in tune with each other. Especially when it comes to Auror work." She tells me reassuringly, but I can see the concern behind her eyes.
I feel myself calming down a little bit. She's right. He was the bloody Chosen One. He'll be fine. I chant this over and over to myself, in my head. Harry probably did things like this all the time when he was abroad. But, of course then I didn't know about it, and it was never because I had kept him up. "Oh Hermione, if he get's hurt out there, it will be all my fault!" I moan, putting my head down on the table.
"Ginny, I'm sure that's not true," She says doing her best to be comforting.
"No, Hermione. It is. I went to Grimmauld Place after everyone went home last night, and I did something really stupid, and when I finally left Harry was in a really bad state." I admit, feeling myself color.
"Ginny, you don't have to tell me anything. Ron and I talked for a really long time, after your last quidditch match, and we both promised each other that we would not interfere when it comes to you and Harry. But, you know if you need to talk to someone, I will always listen." Hermione tells me sweetly, reaching across the table and squeezing my hand.
I let out a long exhale. My head is spinning, and I can't stop thinking of Harry telling me he loves me, and I can't stop picturing an exhausted and distracted Harry fighting very dangerous wizards. I couldn't keep it in any longer.
"Hermione, I went over to Harry's last night and..." I tell her the whole thing. Everything that had happened last night. From Declan Callahan all the way to the Knight Bus. Hermione listened patiently, and did a surprisingly good job of keeping her expression controlled. Only once did her eyes go wide, and I couldn't blame her. I sat there quietly waiting for her response.
"Are you okay Ginny?" she asks me.
"Merlin, I have no idea." I answer her, massaging my temples. My head was starting to hurt. "I mean the bloody boy told me he loved me! Can you believe that?" I ask her throwing my hands up in frustration.
"Well, truthfully Ginny. It doesn't surprise me at all." Hermione answers honestly. I drop my hands in surprise.
"Are you fooling?"
"Do you really want my full honest opinion?" She asks me skeptically.
"No, but I should probably hear it anyway." I admit grudgingly. Hermione should be agreeing with me.
"I mean, yes. This is not that surprising. Look, when he left the first time, it wasn't because he didn't love you. You know that. I mean part of the reason he left was because he loved you too much to let himself hurt you. And think about it, the next time he came back after that, you were the only person he went out of his way to see. Now he's been back for almost four months and you two haven't been able to keep clear of each other. I'm not saying he hasn't made mistakes, and I'm not saying that you don't have a right to be upset. But am I surprised that Harry is in love with you? No. It actually makes the most sense. I think the question is, do you love him?"
I can feel the blood drain from my face. Did I love Harry?
"Really? That's the question? Why can't the question be, who does Harry Bloody Potter think he is, leaving the girl he said he loved for two and half years without a word, making her think that she will never see him again, then come waltzing back into her life telling her he loves her and expecting everything to go well?!" I shout, shooting up from my kitchen chair. My blood is boiling now. I pace back and forth across Hermione's kitchen.
"Ginny..." Hermione says warily.
"NO. You and Della, my mum...and everyone! You all think Harry and I are fated for each other or something. Well let me tell you, if I'm fated for Harry then this is some kind of cruel joke. Harry and I, we are just two swinging wrecking balls, destroying each other every time we get close. Hermione, I never cry! And I have cried almost every week since he's been home. He's confusing, and frustrating, and damn it, I hate that I can't stop caring for him and I can't stay away from him." I finish, by leaning my arms heavily against the kitchen counter my breaths coming rapidly again.
"Why did you leave him last night?" Hermione asks me gently. Tears slide down my cheeks. Could I say it out loud?
"Because I'm scared." I whisper out. It feels like I let go of my last lifeline. I'm going to drown now. I turn and face Hermione. "I'm so fucking scared Hermione." I admit through my tears. "I can't let myself get hurt again. But it's Harry... By the time he came back for good, I was supposed to be over him. Show him that he had no place in my heart. I wasn't supposed to feel the way I do now. I will fall again, and I fear it will be farther than I ever have before. That's why I keep fighting with him. Fighting I can handle. I feel anger, and it helps me ignore every other emotion I feel." I finish, sinking down to the floor, furiously wiping away my hot tears.
Hermione is teary eyed herself. She gets up off of her chair, and sits down of the kitchen floor opposite me. "Ginny, I'm so sorry. I won't pretend I know how you feel. But please just think about this, what's the bigger risk? Letting him in, or living your the rest of your life without him?"
I sit there quietly as her words wash over me. I had thought I already had to live the rest of my life without him. Until last night. I just wish I knew if he was okay. If I knew that, then I wouldn't be so emotional. Hermione sits there quietly with me on the kitchen floor for a long time. She was a really amazing friend.
"Come on Ginny. We have to keep busy, or we'll get sick with worry. Trust me, I've had lots of practice." Hermione says after a while, getting up off the floor and reaching a hand out to me. I believe her, and take it.
...
Hermione and I arrive at the Burrow around 4:30. Ron and Harry were supposed to be home by three o'clock, but had yet to show. Hermione had been great to keep me busy, but my stomach was sick with worry. Neither Hermione or I ate anything. Just our coffees, that we decided to get on our way to my parent's.
"Oh good, you girls are here. You both look very beautiful. Where are Ron and Harry?" My mum asks us as we arrived through the kitchen door.
Hermione thankfully does the talking. "They were both called into work this morning. Ron said he thought he would be home by three o'clock, but they haven't arrived yet." She told her with a cheery voice that I could tell she was faking. Mum could see right through it too.
"Well I hope they're alright. Do you mind helping set the tables?" Mum asks us with a frown. We both agree and she sets us to work. Which I'm grateful for the distraction. The house is a buzz. Everyone is in town. George and Angelina are working on stringing some garland to the banister, with the help of Percy and Audrey. Fleur is playing with Victoire and Teddy at the kitchen table, while Bill and Charlie are charming candles to float around the house.
"Charlie!" I squeal, as I race over to my big brother's arms. Charlie was exactly the same. Strong and sturdy. Where Bill was tall and lean, Charlie was shorter and stocky. Which made him an amazing Beater. He smelled like ash and pine. He lets out a deep laugh as he scoops me up spins me around in his arms.
"Hey there Tiger! Look at you! You know we Weasley men get together every Christmas to decide when we're going to have to lock you away. This might be the year. How's my favorite sister?" Charlie asks with a warm smile. One reason I think I liked Eddy so much, was because he used Charlie's nickname for me.
"I'm shit." I tell him with a laugh and an equally bright smile. This shocks him into laughter.
"Aren't we all." He tells me with an affectionate chuck to my chin. Bill comes over and joins us.
"Ah, all the sensible Weasley's gathered together." Bill says with a wink.
"He's right," Charlie agrees. "I knew we still had some hope after you were born."
I laugh for the first time that day, and we all fall into conversation. Charlie relaying some of his more exciting stories from Romania. We didn't get to stand there long, before Mum put us all to work again. I couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach anymore. It was now five o'clock and neither Ron nor Harry had shown up. What was taking them so long? Everyone was starting to be on edge. I noticed many eyes flicking to the large clock in the kitchen, hoping to see Ron's hand move from work to traveling.
The Grainger's and the rest of the Bridal party arrived around six o'clock, but still no Ron or Harry. It was becoming tortuous. I was in the kitchen doing my best to keep busy. Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore I heard Hermione's voice call out, "Ron!"
Thank Merlin!
Forgetting the flowers I was pretending to rearrange, I sprint into the living room. Hermione is in Ron's arms holding him tightly. Ron was a sight for sore eyes. His shirt was torn a bit, and he had soot streaked across his clothes and face. It didn't look like he had an easy day. But he was safe. My eyes now frantically searched the crowd in the living room. Where was Harry? I walk over across the room, next to Ron and Hermione. Where's Harry? He's not in the living room. Why wasn't he with Ron? They were supposed to come here together. I can feel the panic rise in my throat.
"Where's Harry?" My mum asks mercifully. I'm holding my breath.
Ron let's Hermione out of his embrace but keeps his arm around her holding her to his side. That gesture made me nervous for some reason. "Harry, well he had a bit of..." I am going to be sick.
"I'm here." Comes a low voice over my shoulder.
Harry. I let out the breath. Harry stumbles into the living room. He's just a few feet away. If reached out my arm I could touch him.
He looks worse than Ron. Harry's clothes are also torn and covered in more of that wretched black soot, I had grown to hate in my limited experience with it. He looks exhausted. My hand twitches to go to reach over and grab his sleeve.
"Harry, you're bleeding." My mum says worriedly. My eyes examine Harry's body, and there it is. Red on his right shoulder.
"Harry..." his name is out of my mouth before I can stop myself. His eyes snap to mine. Our eyes lock. His eyes are an intense green, and I can't bring myself to hide my concern. His gaze holds a question I can't decipher. He breaks our connection first.
"Don't worry Mrs. Weasely. It's not mine." Harry tells my mother calmly, turning away from me. I didn't know how Harry wearing someone elses blood was supposed to be comforting. My eyes gaze around the room, and I notice Bill watching me closely. I quickly turn my attention to a stack of old mail on the nearest end table.
People are talking as I continue to study the papers I am pretending to find so interesting. I zone back in as I hear my mum say, "Ron and Harry, why don't you two go upstairs and get showered. Dinner will stay warm. We'll get you some clothes." Everyone starts moving at this. Harry takes a step and immediately stumbles. Without thinking, I catch him around the waist.
"Harry!' I gasp, using all my strength to keep him upright. Bill and George quickly pull him off of me, and set him down on the couch. Mum quickly starts fussing over him. I stand there frozen, watching him. What happened to him today?
"I'm fine Mrs. Weasley. I'm just exhausted. A shower and coffee will do the trick." He's using his charming voice again. I roll my eyes.
"Ginny." Mum calls to me. "Why don't you go get some clothes for Harry." She tells me before going back to fuss over Harry, who has his head in his hands. I stand still for a second. Why was she asking me?
"Ginny...please go." My mum tells me, and there was no getting out of it.
With one more glance Harry's way over my shoulder, I throw my floo powder down and say clearly, "Grimmauld Place."
I step out of Harry's living room fireplace. I blush for no reason, as I look around the familiar room. It had really only been hours since I had been here last. The couch was still in a state, with cushions sideways, and I notice his tie that he had been wearing last night had landed on a lampshade. I shake my head before the images that had been streaming through my mind all day start to surface. I was on a mission.
I make my way up the stairs, and enter Harry's bedroom. His bed is a mess, and all the covers are thrown off, in a heap on the floor. A few of his dresser drawers are hanging open. From the state of things it doesn't look like he had restful sleep. I feel the guilt rise in my stomach. It was my fault he had gotten hurt, that he had no sleep, and that he was in absolutely no state to do his job today. What if he would have gotten seriously injured today? What if...
Swallowing thickly, I quickly cross the bedroom to his closet. I grab some nice black slacks, a dress shirt and a tie. Digging around the shelves, I find an old quidditch duffle along with his dress shoes. Walking out of the closet, I start piling his outfit into the bag. I'm just out the bedroom door when I remember he needs socks and things.
I head back to his dresser, and without thinking, start folding up all of the contents and placing them back in an orderly manner, so that the drawers could close. With a sigh, I get up and pull the pile of blankets off the floor and make the bed. I turn and sit down on it for a minute. I picture Harry here, sleeping, pacing, kicking off his blankets, and racing over to find clothes to wear, so he can get to work. It's not pleasant.
Getting back up I go back to his dresser, and pull open the top drawer where he keeps his socks and underwear. He would probably want those too. Once again I ask myself, why did Mum send me?
I rummage around til I find a pair of black trouser socks, and stuff them into the duffle. Looking back I grab the first pair of boxer briefs I see, and go to slam the drawer shut. But something pink catches my eye. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I wrench the drawer back open. Rummaging around I grab the pink item, and pull it out. It's a pair of panties. Women's panties. At first I am extremely confused, and honestly a quite livid. Then the realization hits me. Their mine.
Merlin.
He had kept my panties from the night we... I find it a little hard to breathe for a minute. I remember having looked for them the next day, and figuring they had been thrown somewhere in our haste. I remember this pair distinctly because they had been one of my favorite. Pink lacy boy cut panties, with a small black bow in the front. I had assumed they would turn up at some point and then forgotten about them. I never expected to find them a year and a half later in Harry's sock drawer. Heat rises low in my body, at the thought of Harry wanting to keep these. I needed to get back.
I stuff my panties into my dress pocket, zip up the duffel bag, and head back to the Burrow.
...
Stepping back through the Burrow's living room fireplace, everyone is in motion. There is a flurry of motion as everybody works together to get the dinner set out. I stand in the living room for a moment watching it all. I swear the pink panties are burning a hole in my dress pocket.
"Could you please run those upstairs Ginny? I told Harry he could get ready up in Ron's old room." My mum asks me, in her arms a large plate of meat pies.
"Uh...sure." I answer, blushing for no reason. I quickly turn and head up the stairs. I climb all the way to the attic. Passing the bathroom I can hear the water running. Harry must be in the shower. I continue up the stairs to Ron's old room. I would just set down Harry's bag on the bed, and sprint back downstairs. Then I will hang out with Charlie and Bill all night, and Harry and I will have no opportunity to talk. Perfect plan. I'm sure I can find out later from Hermione what happened to Harry.
Pushing in, my breath hitches. Harry is sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. His shoulders are slumped and he looks miserable. I don't move any closer.
"Ahem." I clear my throat quietly. His head snaps up, and he shoots up off the bed when he sees me. We each assess the other for a moment. He looks ragged. His stubble a bit longer, and dark bags under his eyes. I wonder if he slept at all last night.
"Hey.." I say startled. He looks at me wide-eyed, as if afraid. "Um...I grabbed some clothes for you." I tell him, sidestepping to deposit the duffel on Ron's bed. I stand there for a moment fighting with my impulses. My impulses win.
Turning around I ask, "Harry are you alright?" My voice is thick and emotional.
"What do you think the answer to that question is?" He answers me tiredly, standing his ground a few feet away from me.
"Um...no.." I answer quietly, and he nods in affirmation. We're staring each other down again. I can't stand the tension in the air. I should say something.
"Looks like you ruined another one of your shirts Potter." I joke lamely, reaching up to touch the blood stained spot on his shoulder.
Harry quickly catches my wrist holding it fast. "I never meant to hurt you." He tells me with a sincerity that bores into me. "Promise you won't leave, and you'll talk to me." He says, using his grip on my wrist to pull me closer to him. The look in his eyes is tired and desperate. It's suddenly very hard to breathe. I nod in response. "Say it. I need to hear you say it." He orders.
"I promise." I tell him reflexively, meaning it. He nods and lets out a shaky breath. His grip slackens and I pull my wrist away from him. Now, right before Hermione and Ron's big dinner, was not the time for this conversation though. "I brought you some clothes," my voice squeaks out. I turn quickly, and go to his bag. "Do your best to keep yours and everyone else's blood off of it." I try a joke again. Wow was I uncomfortable.
"I'll do my best." He mutters in response. "Thanks, by the way," Harry adds, his voice a bit lighter, less strained.
"It was no problem. Everything was where I expected it." A thought comes to me. "Well, except for these." I tell him, pulling my pink panties out of my pocket and holding them up for Harry to see. It was an odd experience to see Harry blush. His eyes go wide, and his mouth erupts to an amused smirk. Not quite the reaction I was expecting.
"So you went through my sock drawer." He says, running a hand through his dark hair. It was not a question.
"I didn't so much as go through it, as I grabbed you a pair of socks, and was distracted by pink lace." I counter.
He gives an incredulous laugh, "This is what we're talking about the day after I told you I loved you? The fact that I kept your panties from the night we had sex."
More than one aspect of his statement, make me flinch away from him. "I looked for these for weeks." I argue lamely.
"Well, I'm sorry you couldn't find them. They were in my pocket." He replies, not sounding sorry at all. I shoot him a narrowed eyed look, and he just raises an eyebrow. Yes, an argument. That is what I needed.
"You really kept them in your pocket for weeks?" I ask him skeptically, annoyed that he would even make something like that up. Even more annoyed at what the notion was doing to my psyche.
"Yes, I did. And I'll be keeping them. So you can give them back." He tells me with a frustrated voice, reaching for them.
"I don't think so!" I challenge him, holding them out of his reach. "You can't have them, they're mine!" I argue childishly. Harry and I were literally fighting over a pair of my underwear. It was a better alternative than talking about our feelings. I continue to try and keep them out of his reach. Which wasn't easy because his reach was much longer than my own.
"Ha!" He cries, moving closer as we struggle. "I think they certainly became mine after I took them off of you." He says, his eyes hooded and dark. My breath hitches at his words. Heat rises low in my body at the image of his words. And I can suddenly distinctly remember how it felt when he pulled my panties down my legs. We freeze in our tangled position, both of my hands now trapped behind my back, holding the pink material tightly. Harry's arms around me, with their own vise grip on the lacy garment. We are so close I can feel Harry's breath on my face.
I want him to kiss me. I want to forget that I'm mad. I don't want to play this game anymore.
"Harry?" I whisper leaning closer to him.
"Yes Gin?" He answers following my lead, his eyes glued to my lips. I feel one of his hands, let go of my panties and splay across my lower back. Closer we lean, as the magnet that will never free us draws us toward each other.
"Showers ready, Harry." Comes another voice. We both turn to see Bill, who is looking rather intimidating again. My stupid brothers. We spring apart, and Harry quickly jams my pink panties into his trouser pocket. Who knows when I would see those again.
"Yeah, great. Thanks mate." Harry says calmly, as if nothing had just happened. Bill eyes him keenly, as Harry grabs his bag.
"Come on Ginny. Let's go down to dinner." Bill tells me, but it sounds like an order. Shaking myself out of my heady state, I go to Bill, who makes me leave first. Brothers.
...
I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. Like I said before, please make your voice heard, and leave a review :)