Prompt - "I want to go to the beach." "It's the middle of winter." "I don't care."
Ginny looked up from the magazine she was reading, to see her fiance Harry, stumble out of the fireplace. She was about to make a joke about his hatred of that way of travelling, till she took in his wet clothes and the look on his face.
"Harry?" She stood and went to him. "You're soaked."
He looked at her, a solemn look on his face, but saying nothing.
"Harry, you're freezing," she noted, removing his wet travelling cloak. How it got wet when he travelled by floo, she didn't know, and he didn't seem in any shape to answer. "Harry?"
He pulled her close to him. " We closed the case today," he announced, "but we were too late."
She stilled; this case had caused Harry countless sleepless mights and long hours at the office. She knew he took each victim's deaths in his cases hard, but it was unlike him to be this...stoic. But it explained his wet clothes; he probably walked before flooing home, to mull over all the details to ensure he had done everything he and his team possibly could.
"I'm sorry," she said, squeezing his hand.
He nodded, but said nothing.
"Do you want something to eat?" she asked, but he shook his head.
"I want to go to the beach," he announced.
She frowned. "Harry, it's the middle of winter."
"I don't care," he said stubbornly.
" The only place you're going, mister, is upstairs to have a shower," she ordered, grimacing inwardly as she realised she sounded just like her mother.
He hesitated, but then teased, "Yes, Molly," and went upstairs. Within minutes, she heard the shower start.
Deciding quickly, she threw some floo powder in the fire and had a brief conversation. Harry seemed determined to stay in the shower for a long time, which gave Ginny enough time to make plans. So by the time he returned downstairs, she was waiting for him, a backpack in her hand.
"Come on," she said, holding out her other hand.
"Where are we going?" he asked, crossing the room to take her hand.
"Trust me?" she asked, and he nodded. She put her arms around him and Apparated the two away.
Upon arrival, he looked around the familiar landscape.
"Shell Cottage? I thought Bill and Fleur were away, visiting her family in Paris with the baby?" he asked
"They are. You wanted the beach, well, here it is," pointed Ginny, dropping the backpack near the door to the cottage.
They both looked out from the outside landing of the cottage. The sky was dark, rain was lightly falling and the waves rolled and crashed in to the sand, before ebbing out again.
"Come on," she urged, taking his hand again and pulling slightly.
He followed her, their hands linked as they ran to the incoming tide. He laughed as she chucked her shoes and waded into the shallows, jumping over the incoming waves.
"Harry, the water is warm," she called, gesturing for him to come in.
He began to toe his shoes off, but honestly, he could stand there and watch her all day, jumping waves, arms outstretched as she welcomed the inclement weather, face turned up to the sky as she ran her hands through her long wet hair.
A large wave knocked her over and she fell, laughing as she sat and let the water run over her. It was like she was one with the elements.
He removed his socks and walked over to her; she was just in the shallows. He sat behind her, encasing her between his legs. Immediately she leaned back against him, her hands over his as they rested on her tummy.
He grinned as the tide grew and came closer, with Ginny guessing how much they'd get wet. It rode over their legs and lower bodies, leaving behind seaweed that made her grimace and throw it away.
"It will just come back next time,' he told her, laughing.
"But I'll be better prepared, won't I?" she teased. "I'll hide behind you, and it will land on you."
He looked over her shoulder, eyes widening in alarm.
"Shark," he yelled.
She cried out, scrambling to he feet, spinning around to grab his hand to drag him out of the water and up on the sand. He couldn't help but laugh so hard when she realised he had tricked her.
"Merlin Harry, that wasn't funny," she complained, letting his arm drop.
"Y – yes it was," he said, clutching his stomach. " Your face! You know there aren't any sharks in these waters!"
"Fine, next time you call out 'shark', see if I save your skinny arse," she said crossly, about to storm up to the cottage.
He grabbed her ankle, and she lashed out, trying to get free.
"Harry, let me go," she ordered through clenched teeth.
"No," he replied, his hands moving up to grab her legs higher up.
"Harry," she warned tersely.
She looked down at him and he looked up at her, those green eyes blazing with pain. The rain was coming down heavier now, her hair was hanging down and droplets ran down her face, and his was the same.
" I need you," he said, and with a jerk, he pulled her down onto his lap.
He roughly pulled her atop him, pushing her hair away from her face. He stared into her eyes before kissing her hard, his hands at the back of her head to hold her still.
She let him plunder her mouth before she kissed him equally hard back. Her mouth demanded more, their lips and tongues clashing.
She ground against his body; they swayed as the tide washed over them; it was getting harder, faster and higher. It certainly matched their mood.
Just when Ginny was about to rip off his shirt, he pulled his mouth away from her, resting his forehead on her shoulder, breathing hard.
Ginny sucked up air, willing her heart to slow down. The clouds behind the cottage were getting darker; a storm was coming.
He lifted his head and leaned his forehead against hers; brown eyes met green.
"God you make me feel so much," he told her earnestly.
She couldn't look away from his eyes. " I love you," she said simply, stroking the side of his face. "Your pain is my pain. If I can make you feel better, I will do everything in my power to do it."
" I know you would, you do," he corrected. "Bringing me here, being here, like this..."
She shivered at the thunder and the drop in temperature; the water was cold now, hard and furious against their bodies.
"You make everything better. I always feel better, happier, with you," he told her.
"Good. Harry...?"
"Yeah?"
"It's fucking freezing. Let's go to the guest room in the cottage and I promise to make you feel better in a nice warm bed," she vowed.
He chuckled; they helped each stand and, holding on to each other, they stared out at the angry sea. They were already soaked and in a matter of minutes they'd be out of their clothes.
"I'd like to live near the water, I reckon," he said.
"It's pretty amazing to be here, looking at the power of the water in the middle of a storm," agreed Ginny.
He nodded. "And there's something to be said for when it's nice and calm and still."
They turned and headed up the beach, stopping to grab their shoes and socks.
"All right?" she asked, slipping an arm around his waist.
He slung an arm around her shoulders. "I'm all right," he said, and he really was. "I'm with you."