Ginny almost spoiled the surprise by tripping over an orchid.

Gwenog was getting increasingly difficult — their yearly mandatory training camp had included a month of exercises under the endless sky of Mongolia (the only place that met Gwenog's privacy needs). Travel by portkey from such an isolated spot was complicated enough that Ginny and Harry had decided together that it made more sense for her to remain there without trying to figure out how to sneak a weekend together. It had seemed so sensible at the time, but right now Ginny was tired and still mildly dizzy from jumping from country to country at a speed that the last official she'd bullied into allowing her a last-minute bucket to London called "simply insane, and you ought to have a stay in St. Mungo's".

But now she was standing in the silent foyer of Grimmauld Place — she was finally home — and she was about to surprise her handsome husband.

Except she'd forgotten the orchid.

Ginny glared at it. To be fair, it was a recent addition to their household. Neville had brought it home from one of his many international trips studying herbology and magibotany. "The crown jewel of Brazil!" he'd crowed. The witches and wizards of South America considered it their most powerfully magical plant and its loveliest, but right now Ginny was ready to blast it apart with her wand. It didn't help that it was three times its usual size, the stem was black, the petals the color of fresh-spilled blood, and little fangs gleamed in the faint light of the foyer.

Damn it, Ginny didn't have the energy to deal with their Brazilian security orchid.

"It's got to be 'stags and snitches'," Ginny insisted.

The orchid shook her petals in denial.

"If it isn't stag and snitch, I'll eat my Quidditch gloves," said Ginny.

To her annoyance and relief, the orchid softened. The blood red melted into a brilliant purple, the fangs retracted, and the stem became a soft verdant green. It gave Ginny what could only be called a flowery smile and a little chiming sound alerted her that the wards would now allow her entry. It's a damn good thing I don't have to do that every time, Ginny grumped to herself.

But her annoyance evaporated the moment she set foot on the first step. She was home, finally, a day earlier than she'd said. A few minutes and she'd have Harry's arms around her, welcoming her, and it was this thought that made her feel lighter and lighter with each step she took.

The entire third floor had been redone to accommodate a large master suite. The door was slightly ajar, light filtered out from it — as did a scent that surprised Ginny into stillness. The fragrance that billowed out to her was — well, it was hers. She brewed a potion for her hair every single month, and this was the exact combination of scents she used.

Her stomach gave a bewildered little leap. Pushing the door open, Ginny peeked in. This time, it wasn't her stomach that leapt, it was her heart.

Harry lay on the bed. A candle she'd never seen before — but was half burned down — sat on their nightstand. It was this that held the scent of the shampoo she made for herself. And it was in its flickering light that Ginny saw what her husband was doing.

His fingers brushed up and down his shaft, while his other hand paid attention to his balls. Ginny felt an answering quiver between her thighs. Their sex life had been punctuated with increasingly erotic sights — a flash of Harry standing over her while her wrists were bound flashed through her mind — but this was so raw and unexpected it nearly made her fall into the room.

A low moan issued from the bed.

Ginny couldn't take her eyes off Harry. He alternated between circling his shaft with his long, slim fingers and stroking it up and down and stroking the tip with his thumb. He loves it when I pause and pay attention to the tip, Ginny thought. If she were really trying to draw out one of the blow jobs she gave him, she would pause and lick the head of it. His stomach muscles would quiver...

Harry sucked in a huge breath. His head lolled back on his shoulders. Even from just inside the door, Ginny could see his nostrils flare...

Without thinking about it, Ginny opened her robes, pushed down the light, billowy trousers she wore underneath and rubbed herself over her knickers. If only she knew Legilimency... if only she knew exactly what he was fantasizing about as he touched himself... stroking up and down with sure, confident strokes.

Mouth-watering, she saw the moment he stopped trying to draw it out. The muscles in his chest tightened. One hand gripped his balls, the other jerked his shaft, hard, and with a rhythm Ginny recognized. She could feel her clit throb through her knickers and she stroked it. It was like this just before Harry climaxed. Some invisible barrier would be crossed, and he would speed up.

Fuck, I want him inside me, Ginny thought. Her finger on her clit was just whetting her appetite. She wanted him deep in her, pounding her like he was working his shaft, and his body heavy on hers as they both groaned their way to completion. But she couldn't — physically couldn't — move. Her feet were glued to the floor as though jinxed. All the air was out of her lungs, heated blood pulsed through her body, and it was all she could do to keep herself from sliding to the floor.

His hand was moving even faster now, and his knees moved.

Then, with a quiet grunt, he came. A stream of cum landed on his chest, then his sternum, then another just above his belly button. His hips twisted.

Ginny shoved her hand in her knickers now, finding her folds slippery with pure need and desire. Even with her warm fingers on her clit, it wasn't enough. She needed him thick and full and pushing into her. She needed it.

On the bed, Harry was not nearly so consumed with need. His whole body had relaxed. His chest muscles were no longer tight and while his hands were still touching himself, it wasn't as it had been a moment ago. His thumb stroked his balls with a gentle motion, but everything else was still.

Then his voice cut through the silence. "Well, mate, I think that's the last time we've got to do that for a while."

Ginny bit her lip on a sudden laugh. "I don't know about that," she said, unable to stop herself. "What if I want another show?"

Harry had frozen at her first word. The hand that had still been on his spent shaft twitched — for his other wand, Ginny assumed — but stopped. When her gaze managed to find his face, his eyes were wide with surprise and a small amount of embarrassment. Then he coughed, and let out a small laugh.

"Miss me?" Ginny said, wicked.

"Fuck," said Harry. "Fuck, Gin. Of course I fucking missed you." His suddenly hungry gaze traveled over her body, coming to a halt where Ginny had her own hand in her trousers. "Get over here — it looks like you've got something I can take care of for you."

Later, after he'd eaten her out so thoroughly she came screaming his name, she blew out the candle that smelled disconcertingly like her shampoo, and cuddled up to his back. Her arm snaked around his waist and slid up to brush over his chest. She kissed his shoulder, and then said: "Fuck, I'm glad to be home."

"Best surprise of my life," said Harry. He was half asleep, and shifted a little, revealing his smooth profile. "I can't believe you managed it. Usually the press are at your heels."

"I might've had to jinx a reporter or two," Ginny said.

"Jinx?" Harry said in knowing disbelief.

"All right, hex," said Ginny. "But no, I nearly had to Apparate straight through the wards." Which wasn't bad, per se, it just was loud and Harry would've known immediately she was home. "And not because of a reporter, but because of our security orchid."

Harry's warm, rich chuckle wrapped around her. They were quiet for quite some time. Ginny's eyes fell nearly shut as she realized she had been through seventeen different countries today as she made her way home. It felt so good; it felt so, so good to have her arms around Harry. No more sleeping under the stars in Mongolia... no more Gwenog... just Harry.

"I don't mind giving you a show, but I wish I'd been able to properly shag you tonight," said Harry, over a yawn that lasted nearly half a minute.

"Tomorrow," said Ginny.

"First thing in the morning," Harry promised.

"And then you can tell me why you've got a secret candle that smells like me."

"Or you could let me have some secrets," Harry suggested.

"Fat chance," Ginny breathed out, so close to sleep her dreams were calling out to her. "I'll show you secrets..."

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Author's Note: A few days ago, the amazing artist blvnk asked for a "Ginny surprises Harry masturbating" fic. I'd been feeling very out of sorts upon finishing Peverell, so this was perfect timing. I still am, honestly. I was talking with a friend of mine the other day, and I just can't shake the sense of "well, what the fuck do I write now?" so maybe there will be more puffy one-shots. (This is a blatant request for a prompt or something)

Anyway, I also want to thank blattgefluester for helping me figure out why Socks didn't particularly work for me! It was a really exciting breakthrough.