Snow and Strawberries- An Oliver/Ginny Cookie
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Giggling madly, Ginny swept through the back door in the fading winter afternoon light, covered head to toe in snow and not caring a whit that she was scattering it about her house. A male chuckle followed her light and airy laugh, and as she heard her companion coming up the steps, Ginny quickly attempted to close the door in his face, locking him out in the backyard. Unfortunately, he had fast reflexes, and she was plumb out of luck; he wedged his foot in the door and threw it open, Ginny scampering out of the back hall and into her kitchen, taking off her boots and her coat and other assorted articles of outwear as she went.

"Oh, come on Gin!" he roared, gray eyes twinkling and he pulled off his gloves. Oliver walked down the hall after pulling off his boots, but Ginny was no longer in the kitchen, although it was obvious she had been there; her sweater was on the countertop and the refrigerator door was open as if she had grabbed something, and then upon hearing him coming, had left as fast as possible.

He heard a giggle somewhere in the house, her soft laugh tinkling like bells in the empty and silent air. Oliver took off his sweater and snow pants, soaked to the bone and looked in all the rooms of the first floor. Each and every one was empty. Sighing, he turned back towards the kitchen, intent on finding himself a snack. Being friends with this woman was more than he had bargained for- playing in the snow as if they were ten instead of twenty four and twenty nine; playing hide and go seek with her brothers in the wood by the Burrow; helping the family pick out a Christmas tree, and then staying up until midnight just decorating it the Muggle way.

Ginny Weasley was a fun-loving creature, and Oliver didn't pretend to himself to not harbor any tendencies to think of her in other ways. She was his perfect woman, the one who enthralled him and excited him, made him hot and sent chills down his spine at the same time, who could understand his love for Quidditch, even though she despised the sport nearly as much as she did her brothers' overprotective natures.

"Gin?" Oliver called up the stairs as he passed them on his way to the kitchen. Hearing no reply, he shrugged and continued towards the food. He opened up the refrigerator, and, seeing a pile of lunch meat, pulled out turkey, salami, and ham, as well as Cheddar cheese. Going to the pantry, Oliver grabbed a bag of bread and began to make himself a sandwich, complete with lettuce, tomatoes, and mustard. Delicious, he thought. Putting it on a plate that he took from the sink-- it appeared to be clean, although he couldn't be quite sure-- Oliver smacked his lips, told himself that he was wonderful for making such a spectacular meal, and prepared to dig in, sitting at the kitchen table. Holding the sandwich to his mouth, he licked his lips in anticipation--

"Ollliverrr..." Groaning, Oliver listened as Ginny musically called his name down the stairs. Her voice could drive a man mad, and he was sure she knew it.

"Come here, Oliver," she told him, her voice rough with an unknown emotion. "I've got... strawberries," she cajoled. Oliver let out a slight moan. She knew strawberries were his favorite. He pushed back the chair that he had been sitting in, and jogged up the staircase to the second floor of Ginny's little Hogsmeade flat. He didn't know his way around the second floor so well, had only been to the guest bedroom once, but that had been one night when he had gotten overly drunk at The Three Broomsticks, and was too wasted to Apparate home... so needless to say, he hadn't remembered it too well.

Oliver opened up the first door on his right, and saw that it was a bathroom, decked out in white lacy curtains and the such. He closed the door again, and went down to the first door on his left. It was the room he had once stayed in, all light green and pastel blue, with lilac touches.. he had felt so feminine in that bed, he had jumped out as soon as his eyes had adjusted to the light and he realized just what he was doing. there was only one door left, this one straight back at the end of the hall, and Oliver knew what it led to. Strawberries.

A big grin on his face, he threw the door open, took absolutely no notice of the fact that Ginny was near naked, seeing the large bowl of strawberries on the pillows at the head of the bed. Oliver jumped onto the bed, crawled as fast as he could to the bowl and began eating the strawberries, completely immersed in the fact that it was his favorite fruit and that they were miraculously fresh and delicious in the middle of the winter. As he picked the last one out of the huge bowl, and gulped it down in one bite, Oliver heard an exasperated sigh to his left.

He looked over to Ginny and saw her in... a black teddy!? What was going on here!? If Fred, George and Ron ever caught wind that he had been eating strawberries in Ginny's room while she was getting dressed, Oliver was sure that he would find his head separated from his body. As well as other organs. Not good.

"What're you doing wearing that, Gin?" Oliver asked as innocently as possible.

Ginny's mouth dropped open, and she began sputtering. "Wha- are- I just... Are all men as dense as you, Oliver Wood?" she exclaimed loudly. "I mean, seriously. Is it not obvious?" Ginny stood up and began pacing back and forth in front of the bed, muttering obscenities and phrases such as "Men. What are they good for!?" and "My lord, you're thick!" under her breath.

And then the realization dawned on him, and Oliver slapped himself in the forehead. "I feel… so… stupid," he told her. "Highly, utterly dumb. You were waiting for your lover, weren't you?"

Groaning, Ginny cried out, "I don't have a lover! And I'm going to be short a best friend if you don't think this through and figure it out!"

Oliver sat for a moment, thinking about it some more. And then realization dawned again. He stood up, and walked to Ginny, grabbed her shoulders to make her stop pacing, and turned her around to face him. Her cheeks were tinged red with embarrassment, fury and annoyance, her eyes sparked lightly, and there was a grim smile upon her face as if she were expecting him to say he hated her for thinking they were more than just friends.

A grin lit up Oliver's own face, a mischievous grin so devilish it made Ginny give a half hearted attempt to match it; and then before she could even open her mouth to apologize, there was not a single bit of space between their bodies and Oliver's lips were brushing hers ever so lightly. Giving a slight moan as a warm feeling filled her from head to toe, Ginny threaded her hands into Oliver's short hair and pulled his face, his mouth closer, letting her tongue flit and flirt with his own. She felt him close to her skin, his whole body pounding out the tattoo rhythm of his heart. He tasted of strawberries and something else, smelled of snow and cinnamon and fresh air and clean maleness. And Ginny couldn't draw away, knowing that she had wanted this from day one.

This feeling. Love.

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