Chapter Four: Erogenous Zones
Ginny sat down on her bed and crossed her slim, smooth, freckled legs.
"So," she said, her voice low but firm, "let's talk about erogenous zones."
"Huh?" Harry asked dumbly, his eyes having fallen on the swell of her breasts, the tops of which were practically glowing in the candlelight.
"Hello!" Ginny said sharply, snapping her fingers. "Pay attention, Harry."
"Right," said Harry, shifting in his seat and forcing himself to look her in the eye.
"Men," said Ginny, rolling her eyes and smiling.
"Men what?" Harry asked, a bit indignantly. "How am I supposed to pay attention when you're prancing around in your knickers?"
"The point of me 'prancing around in my knickers' is to give you a little mental discipline," said Ginny very calmly. "Now, as I was saying, erogenous zones."
"Erogenous zones," repeated Harry, forcing his eyes not to stray back down to her breasts, which looked so tempting and creamy and freckly.
She stood up again. "I suppose I don't really need to tell you to look at me," she said wryly.
Harry shook his head and allowed his eyes to travel up and down.
"All right, then," said Ginny, sounding a bit bemused. "What would you like to do to me right now? Say the first thing that comes into your mind."
"I want to stroke your breasts," Harry blurted, his eyes lingering on them.
Ginny gave a sort of annoyed laugh and sat back down.
"No, no, no!" she said, shaking her head. "Look, you can't just skip over everything and go right for the breasts, okay?"
"I can't?" said Harry, a bit disappointed. He clutched his own hands together to keep himself from reaching out and fondling Ginny.
"No," said Ginny firmly. "Remember, a few days ago, I talked about kissing? How that can be a prelude to other things? Well, so can your hands. But you can't just grab at breasts and think that's going to make a girl drop her knickers for you."
"Okay," said Harry, forcing himself to look at her face again.
She took a few steps toward him, until she stood very close to him, looking down at him. He stared up at her face, still clinching his hands together.
"The body's biggest organ is the skin," she said. "It's sensitive, full of nerve endings, and it really likes to be touched. Everywhere."
Harry nodded, his eyes still fixed on hers.
"Give me your hand," she ordered. He gulped and released his hands and held up his right. She took his hand in both of hers and knelt down so that she was between his knees. Harry's trousers were really pinching at him now; he shifted in his seat as she smirked at him.
"Take a deep breath," said Ginny, and he did. And another.
"Okay," she said softly. "Now, just relax." He nodded, feeling anything but relaxed, and she took his hand and placed it against her face. She released his hand and put her arms at her side.
"Now, just explore me," she said, "with your hands. Okay? Slowly and lightly. If you start to get excited, you know what to do."
"Uh huh," said Harry, his hand frozen against her cheek. He swallowed again and moved his fingers, stroking the skin of her cheek, which was very soft. He traced along her jaw, then over her forehead, then back down, to the other cheek. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them, and her lips parted just slightly. Harry felt a jolt in his trousers as he ran his thumb over her lower lip.
Dead kittens, he thought quickly--it was the only image that seemed to quiet the agony in his groin. He brushed his fingers down onto Ginny's neck, and then along her collarbone.
"That's it," said Ginny softly, as his fingers danced on her collarbone, back toward the base of her throat, and then over the other collarbone. She had leaned in a bit closer to him and he smelled gardenias again.
Still forcing himself to think of dead kittens, Harry brought his other hand up and he stroked gently at her shoulder blades, around the back of them, and then caressed the silk of her hair.
"Not bad," Ginny whispered, leaning in still closer. Harry's hands traveled over her bare back. Her achingly soft, smooth bare back. He felt the satin of the back of her bra, and his hands traveled lower, coming to rest in the small of her back.
Dead kittens, dead kittens, dead kittens. But the ache in his trousers was fighting back. She was now very close to him, arching her back so that her very lovely backside stuck out, the lace of her knickers hugging it enticingly.
"Good," said Ginny lightly, as Harry's hands traveled lower and caressed her bottom.
"God," Harry muttered, willing himself to think of anything other than what he was doing.
"Relax," she said quickly, as his hands moved to her hips, and then back over her bottom again. "Breathe."
He breathed heavily through his nose. The image of dead kittens wasn't working anymore. He breathed hard again, through his mouth this time. He was dying to take off his trousers when he suddenly noticed that he had been caressing Ginny now for at least five minutes without losing himself.
She moved still closer to him and his hands moved from her rear end to her hips again, up the sides of her torso, and over her shoulders again.
"How are you doing?" she asked, her hands still at her sides. She seemed entirely unruffled.
"Fine," Harry said, shifting again in his seat. His erection had to have reached critical mass by now, and he was quite sure he was making some very bizarre faces in the attempt to control himself.
Ginny smiled. "Take another breath," she instructed. "Are you thinking of non-sexual things?"
"No," said Harry bluntly, as his fingers traced circles on her shoulders. "Sorry."
"Then focus on breathing," said Ginny calmly. "You won't be much good to Cho if you pass out because you forgot to breathe."
Harry stopped caressing Ginny's shoulders for a moment--he supposed it oughtn't to have surprised him to hear Cho's name, under the circumstances, but it did. All this time he hadn't been thinking of Cho at all. How could he, really, when Ginny was kneeling between his legs, nearly naked and looking good enough to eat, her red hair spilling down her back?
"Harry?" said Ginny, moving a fraction of an inch closer.
"Right," said Harry. "Breathe." He took a deep, exaggerated breath and felt the swelling in his trousers ease up, just slightly.
"You're doing fine," said Ginny.
"Thanks," said Harry. This was perhaps the weirdest thing he'd ever done, he thought. Caressing Ginny like this as she told him what to do, and Ginny acting as though it were the most normal thing in the world. It was weird, and incredible. For the first time he didn't feel like a completely clumsy idiot. Even if Ginny didn't seem to be too ruffled by what he was doing, at least she was being encouraging. At least he wasn't losing himself.
"Are you okay?" she asked, moving still closer to him. He could have wrapped his legs around her.
"Yeah," he said. "Wh-what now?"
"Kiss me," she said. "Slowly."
He obeyed--not that he needed to be pushed into it. If anything, kissing her now--after his hands had explored much of her bare skin--was even more thrilling than it had been before. Her tongue tasted of peppermint. Harry felt his arms wrap around her and pull her even closer. She moved in and put her arms around his waist. His hands tangled in her hair.
Breathe, he told himself, and he felt himself inhale sharply through his nose as he kissed her. This is good, I can handle this, he thought. She tightened her arms round him and he felt his mouth drift, his lips tracing kisses along her jaw.
"That's good, Harry," she murmured into his ear. His mouth moved lower, to her neck, and he began to kiss the soft, tender skin there as she leaned back. His hands moved to her bottom again.
"Slow," she murmured against his mouth as he kissed her on the lips again. His hands began to move of their own accord, stroking every inch of her flesh that he could reach. They moved from her bottom and up over her back, to her shoulders. His left hand traveled around to her collarbone and over her shoulder and back up to her collarbone, then down, down, until it came to rest on her left breast. Harry's groin was throbbing against his trousers; her breast was plump and fit perfectly in his hand.
"Ginny," he murmured, feeling his hand move carefully over her breast.
"Harry," she breathed. "Stop."
"Wha--?"
She pushed him away from her and he immediately stopped touching her, though it took no small amount of will on his part to pull his hands away from her skin.
"That was good," she said, looking a bit flushed herself, but otherwise quite calm. "You're getting the idea. Do you get what I was saying, about how you can't just jump in and start fondling a girl however you want?"
Harry shook his head. His heart was still racing; his hands were on fire; his lips were burning; his breathing was labored; and his trousers were still pinching him. He couldn't understand why what had just happened hadn't seemed to affect Ginny. Hadn't she felt it, the electricity when they kissed? Hadn't she enjoyed the way he'd touched her? He'd been so careful, so AWARE of the way he caressed her. He could still feel her skin beneath his hands, even as he folded them together and held them over his aching groin. Yes, she'd SAID that he was doing well, but she sure didn't look like he'd hoped. Like she'd had a bloody good time when he kissed her and stroked her. How was it that she was so bloody unmoved, when he was sitting there gasping for breath and struggling to stop the room from spinning?
"Harry, are you all right?" She sat down onto her bed and crossed her legs primly at the knees.
"Fine," said Harry, sitting back onto the chair.
"You're doing really well," she said in an encouraging voice, sitting back on the bed.
"Thanks," Harry said dryly, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. "You certainly look like you just had a fabulous time."
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.
"Bloody hell, Ginny!" Harry said sharply. "I'm--I'm dying over here and you're sitting there like nothing just happened. I mean, could you at least pretend that you liked what I just did?"
"I did like it!" Ginny snapped. "Why do you think I kept telling you--"
"Then how is it you're sitting there as though you just finished filing your bloody nails?" Harry demanded. He felt his anger and frustration begin to boil to the surface. All this time, he'd never been able to touch a girl properly; he'd never been able to make a girl feel the kind of ache and pleasure he'd felt the few times he'd been lucky enough to have any kind of sexual encounter at all. He knew it was unfair--that Ginny was teaching him what to do, and that he should be grateful to her, but he couldn't help it. Why did she have to be so bloody clinical about it?
"That's not fair," Ginny snapped. "I'm doing you a favor, in case you forgot."
"I know!" said Harry, standing up, his erection finally having calmed down. "But dammit, Ginny. Why--why do I feel like--like I'm no better off than I was before? How am I supposed to know, really know if what I'm doing is good when you don't even--"
"I can't," said Ginny. "I have to maintain some level of control, remember? I'm supposed to be teaching you stuff. I can't very well do that if I lose my head."
Harry looked at her, and she looked back at him. There was something in her eyes, an expression he couldn't quite discern. Her posture was stiff and rigid; her back straight and her fists clenched at her sides, but her eyes were different. Harry couldn't help but think she looked suddenly quite sad. He felt his anger and frustration evaporate.
"Ginny," he said slowly. "I'm--sorry. I know you're helping me out. And I appreciate it. You're the best, I mean it. I just--part of me wishes I knew you were having as much fun as I am."
Ginny slumped just a little and her face relaxed, but her eyes still had that slightly haunted expression.
"Harry, have I ever lied to you?" she asked.
"No," said Harry.
"Please believe me when I tell you that what just happened, what you did, was good," she said slowly. "Better than good. You're a lot better at this than you think you are."
"Thanks," he mumbled.
"I think we should call it quits for tonight," she said, standing up. She headed for her dresser and retrieved a nightshirt, which she pulled on over her head. Harry felt a twinge of regret to see her beautiful skin covered up.
"Okay," he said, relenting.
"Harry, if you don't want to keep doing this--" she began.
"I want to," said Harry. "I--I have to. I can't make a fool of myself again- -"
"You won't," said Ginny, smiling. "You--you did understand what I meant, though, about--
"About not groping a girl without warming her up a bit first, yeah," said Harry, blushing and smiling at her.
"If I'd been Cho, believe me, I wouldn't have stopped you," said Ginny, giving a kind of forced laugh.
"That's good to know," said Harry, smiling, but feeling very strange. He didn't like talking about Cho, not when he was with Ginny.
"I'm going to give you a few books," said Ginny, opening her desk drawer and pulling out two small volumes and pressing them into his hand. "Look them over; they're very informative. They have a bunch of exercises you can do--breathing stuff--to help you stay calmer. And of course plenty of information on all kinds of foreplay and what."
"I have to read?" said Harry, arching his eyebrows and straightening his glasses.
"Believe me, once you get into these books you won't want to put them down," she said, smiling wickedly.
They stood there for a moment, smiling at one another. Harry felt much better now than he had a few minutes earlier. Ginny was right--she had never lied to him, and she hadn't been lying to him a moment ago. He felt better about himself than he had in ages. Maybe he'd get this whole sex thing right after all.
He suddenly noticed that he and Ginny were still standing there, not talking, but gazing at each other. Her eyes looked beautiful in the candlelight.
He blinked.
"So, I'll be going," said Harry. "Thanks for dinner, and for--for--"
"You're welcome," she said, smiling, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "I had a good time."
"Me, too," said Harry, backing his way out of her room, wondering why--even though he knew she meant it when she said she'd had a good time--her eyes still looked rather sad. Perhaps there was something else going on in her life that he didn't know about. He opened his mouth to say something, to perhaps ask her what was wrong, but she said, "Good night, Harry," and opened the door to her bedroom. He took the hint. Whatever was bothering her was not for him to pry about.
"G'night," he said softly.
He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and walked slowly out of her room. He started down the stairs. The only light available was the flickering candlelight that fell from her open bedroom. He walked slowly down the stairs, his hands and lips still tingling. He heard a creaking behind him and turned, hoping to see Ginny at the top of the stairs one last time, but instead he saw only the light from her room fade to dark as she shut her door, leaving him alone in the dark at the foot of the stairs.
_____________________________________________________________________
Author's Note: Fluff Central! I do promise a bit more action (not just of the sexual kind) in the next few chapters).
Ginny sat down on her bed and crossed her slim, smooth, freckled legs.
"So," she said, her voice low but firm, "let's talk about erogenous zones."
"Huh?" Harry asked dumbly, his eyes having fallen on the swell of her breasts, the tops of which were practically glowing in the candlelight.
"Hello!" Ginny said sharply, snapping her fingers. "Pay attention, Harry."
"Right," said Harry, shifting in his seat and forcing himself to look her in the eye.
"Men," said Ginny, rolling her eyes and smiling.
"Men what?" Harry asked, a bit indignantly. "How am I supposed to pay attention when you're prancing around in your knickers?"
"The point of me 'prancing around in my knickers' is to give you a little mental discipline," said Ginny very calmly. "Now, as I was saying, erogenous zones."
"Erogenous zones," repeated Harry, forcing his eyes not to stray back down to her breasts, which looked so tempting and creamy and freckly.
She stood up again. "I suppose I don't really need to tell you to look at me," she said wryly.
Harry shook his head and allowed his eyes to travel up and down.
"All right, then," said Ginny, sounding a bit bemused. "What would you like to do to me right now? Say the first thing that comes into your mind."
"I want to stroke your breasts," Harry blurted, his eyes lingering on them.
Ginny gave a sort of annoyed laugh and sat back down.
"No, no, no!" she said, shaking her head. "Look, you can't just skip over everything and go right for the breasts, okay?"
"I can't?" said Harry, a bit disappointed. He clutched his own hands together to keep himself from reaching out and fondling Ginny.
"No," said Ginny firmly. "Remember, a few days ago, I talked about kissing? How that can be a prelude to other things? Well, so can your hands. But you can't just grab at breasts and think that's going to make a girl drop her knickers for you."
"Okay," said Harry, forcing himself to look at her face again.
She took a few steps toward him, until she stood very close to him, looking down at him. He stared up at her face, still clinching his hands together.
"The body's biggest organ is the skin," she said. "It's sensitive, full of nerve endings, and it really likes to be touched. Everywhere."
Harry nodded, his eyes still fixed on hers.
"Give me your hand," she ordered. He gulped and released his hands and held up his right. She took his hand in both of hers and knelt down so that she was between his knees. Harry's trousers were really pinching at him now; he shifted in his seat as she smirked at him.
"Take a deep breath," said Ginny, and he did. And another.
"Okay," she said softly. "Now, just relax." He nodded, feeling anything but relaxed, and she took his hand and placed it against her face. She released his hand and put her arms at her side.
"Now, just explore me," she said, "with your hands. Okay? Slowly and lightly. If you start to get excited, you know what to do."
"Uh huh," said Harry, his hand frozen against her cheek. He swallowed again and moved his fingers, stroking the skin of her cheek, which was very soft. He traced along her jaw, then over her forehead, then back down, to the other cheek. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them, and her lips parted just slightly. Harry felt a jolt in his trousers as he ran his thumb over her lower lip.
Dead kittens, he thought quickly--it was the only image that seemed to quiet the agony in his groin. He brushed his fingers down onto Ginny's neck, and then along her collarbone.
"That's it," said Ginny softly, as his fingers danced on her collarbone, back toward the base of her throat, and then over the other collarbone. She had leaned in a bit closer to him and he smelled gardenias again.
Still forcing himself to think of dead kittens, Harry brought his other hand up and he stroked gently at her shoulder blades, around the back of them, and then caressed the silk of her hair.
"Not bad," Ginny whispered, leaning in still closer. Harry's hands traveled over her bare back. Her achingly soft, smooth bare back. He felt the satin of the back of her bra, and his hands traveled lower, coming to rest in the small of her back.
Dead kittens, dead kittens, dead kittens. But the ache in his trousers was fighting back. She was now very close to him, arching her back so that her very lovely backside stuck out, the lace of her knickers hugging it enticingly.
"Good," said Ginny lightly, as Harry's hands traveled lower and caressed her bottom.
"God," Harry muttered, willing himself to think of anything other than what he was doing.
"Relax," she said quickly, as his hands moved to her hips, and then back over her bottom again. "Breathe."
He breathed heavily through his nose. The image of dead kittens wasn't working anymore. He breathed hard again, through his mouth this time. He was dying to take off his trousers when he suddenly noticed that he had been caressing Ginny now for at least five minutes without losing himself.
She moved still closer to him and his hands moved from her rear end to her hips again, up the sides of her torso, and over her shoulders again.
"How are you doing?" she asked, her hands still at her sides. She seemed entirely unruffled.
"Fine," Harry said, shifting again in his seat. His erection had to have reached critical mass by now, and he was quite sure he was making some very bizarre faces in the attempt to control himself.
Ginny smiled. "Take another breath," she instructed. "Are you thinking of non-sexual things?"
"No," said Harry bluntly, as his fingers traced circles on her shoulders. "Sorry."
"Then focus on breathing," said Ginny calmly. "You won't be much good to Cho if you pass out because you forgot to breathe."
Harry stopped caressing Ginny's shoulders for a moment--he supposed it oughtn't to have surprised him to hear Cho's name, under the circumstances, but it did. All this time he hadn't been thinking of Cho at all. How could he, really, when Ginny was kneeling between his legs, nearly naked and looking good enough to eat, her red hair spilling down her back?
"Harry?" said Ginny, moving a fraction of an inch closer.
"Right," said Harry. "Breathe." He took a deep, exaggerated breath and felt the swelling in his trousers ease up, just slightly.
"You're doing fine," said Ginny.
"Thanks," said Harry. This was perhaps the weirdest thing he'd ever done, he thought. Caressing Ginny like this as she told him what to do, and Ginny acting as though it were the most normal thing in the world. It was weird, and incredible. For the first time he didn't feel like a completely clumsy idiot. Even if Ginny didn't seem to be too ruffled by what he was doing, at least she was being encouraging. At least he wasn't losing himself.
"Are you okay?" she asked, moving still closer to him. He could have wrapped his legs around her.
"Yeah," he said. "Wh-what now?"
"Kiss me," she said. "Slowly."
He obeyed--not that he needed to be pushed into it. If anything, kissing her now--after his hands had explored much of her bare skin--was even more thrilling than it had been before. Her tongue tasted of peppermint. Harry felt his arms wrap around her and pull her even closer. She moved in and put her arms around his waist. His hands tangled in her hair.
Breathe, he told himself, and he felt himself inhale sharply through his nose as he kissed her. This is good, I can handle this, he thought. She tightened her arms round him and he felt his mouth drift, his lips tracing kisses along her jaw.
"That's good, Harry," she murmured into his ear. His mouth moved lower, to her neck, and he began to kiss the soft, tender skin there as she leaned back. His hands moved to her bottom again.
"Slow," she murmured against his mouth as he kissed her on the lips again. His hands began to move of their own accord, stroking every inch of her flesh that he could reach. They moved from her bottom and up over her back, to her shoulders. His left hand traveled around to her collarbone and over her shoulder and back up to her collarbone, then down, down, until it came to rest on her left breast. Harry's groin was throbbing against his trousers; her breast was plump and fit perfectly in his hand.
"Ginny," he murmured, feeling his hand move carefully over her breast.
"Harry," she breathed. "Stop."
"Wha--?"
She pushed him away from her and he immediately stopped touching her, though it took no small amount of will on his part to pull his hands away from her skin.
"That was good," she said, looking a bit flushed herself, but otherwise quite calm. "You're getting the idea. Do you get what I was saying, about how you can't just jump in and start fondling a girl however you want?"
Harry shook his head. His heart was still racing; his hands were on fire; his lips were burning; his breathing was labored; and his trousers were still pinching him. He couldn't understand why what had just happened hadn't seemed to affect Ginny. Hadn't she felt it, the electricity when they kissed? Hadn't she enjoyed the way he'd touched her? He'd been so careful, so AWARE of the way he caressed her. He could still feel her skin beneath his hands, even as he folded them together and held them over his aching groin. Yes, she'd SAID that he was doing well, but she sure didn't look like he'd hoped. Like she'd had a bloody good time when he kissed her and stroked her. How was it that she was so bloody unmoved, when he was sitting there gasping for breath and struggling to stop the room from spinning?
"Harry, are you all right?" She sat down onto her bed and crossed her legs primly at the knees.
"Fine," said Harry, sitting back onto the chair.
"You're doing really well," she said in an encouraging voice, sitting back on the bed.
"Thanks," Harry said dryly, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. "You certainly look like you just had a fabulous time."
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.
"Bloody hell, Ginny!" Harry said sharply. "I'm--I'm dying over here and you're sitting there like nothing just happened. I mean, could you at least pretend that you liked what I just did?"
"I did like it!" Ginny snapped. "Why do you think I kept telling you--"
"Then how is it you're sitting there as though you just finished filing your bloody nails?" Harry demanded. He felt his anger and frustration begin to boil to the surface. All this time, he'd never been able to touch a girl properly; he'd never been able to make a girl feel the kind of ache and pleasure he'd felt the few times he'd been lucky enough to have any kind of sexual encounter at all. He knew it was unfair--that Ginny was teaching him what to do, and that he should be grateful to her, but he couldn't help it. Why did she have to be so bloody clinical about it?
"That's not fair," Ginny snapped. "I'm doing you a favor, in case you forgot."
"I know!" said Harry, standing up, his erection finally having calmed down. "But dammit, Ginny. Why--why do I feel like--like I'm no better off than I was before? How am I supposed to know, really know if what I'm doing is good when you don't even--"
"I can't," said Ginny. "I have to maintain some level of control, remember? I'm supposed to be teaching you stuff. I can't very well do that if I lose my head."
Harry looked at her, and she looked back at him. There was something in her eyes, an expression he couldn't quite discern. Her posture was stiff and rigid; her back straight and her fists clenched at her sides, but her eyes were different. Harry couldn't help but think she looked suddenly quite sad. He felt his anger and frustration evaporate.
"Ginny," he said slowly. "I'm--sorry. I know you're helping me out. And I appreciate it. You're the best, I mean it. I just--part of me wishes I knew you were having as much fun as I am."
Ginny slumped just a little and her face relaxed, but her eyes still had that slightly haunted expression.
"Harry, have I ever lied to you?" she asked.
"No," said Harry.
"Please believe me when I tell you that what just happened, what you did, was good," she said slowly. "Better than good. You're a lot better at this than you think you are."
"Thanks," he mumbled.
"I think we should call it quits for tonight," she said, standing up. She headed for her dresser and retrieved a nightshirt, which she pulled on over her head. Harry felt a twinge of regret to see her beautiful skin covered up.
"Okay," he said, relenting.
"Harry, if you don't want to keep doing this--" she began.
"I want to," said Harry. "I--I have to. I can't make a fool of myself again- -"
"You won't," said Ginny, smiling. "You--you did understand what I meant, though, about--
"About not groping a girl without warming her up a bit first, yeah," said Harry, blushing and smiling at her.
"If I'd been Cho, believe me, I wouldn't have stopped you," said Ginny, giving a kind of forced laugh.
"That's good to know," said Harry, smiling, but feeling very strange. He didn't like talking about Cho, not when he was with Ginny.
"I'm going to give you a few books," said Ginny, opening her desk drawer and pulling out two small volumes and pressing them into his hand. "Look them over; they're very informative. They have a bunch of exercises you can do--breathing stuff--to help you stay calmer. And of course plenty of information on all kinds of foreplay and what."
"I have to read?" said Harry, arching his eyebrows and straightening his glasses.
"Believe me, once you get into these books you won't want to put them down," she said, smiling wickedly.
They stood there for a moment, smiling at one another. Harry felt much better now than he had a few minutes earlier. Ginny was right--she had never lied to him, and she hadn't been lying to him a moment ago. He felt better about himself than he had in ages. Maybe he'd get this whole sex thing right after all.
He suddenly noticed that he and Ginny were still standing there, not talking, but gazing at each other. Her eyes looked beautiful in the candlelight.
He blinked.
"So, I'll be going," said Harry. "Thanks for dinner, and for--for--"
"You're welcome," she said, smiling, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "I had a good time."
"Me, too," said Harry, backing his way out of her room, wondering why--even though he knew she meant it when she said she'd had a good time--her eyes still looked rather sad. Perhaps there was something else going on in her life that he didn't know about. He opened his mouth to say something, to perhaps ask her what was wrong, but she said, "Good night, Harry," and opened the door to her bedroom. He took the hint. Whatever was bothering her was not for him to pry about.
"G'night," he said softly.
He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and walked slowly out of her room. He started down the stairs. The only light available was the flickering candlelight that fell from her open bedroom. He walked slowly down the stairs, his hands and lips still tingling. He heard a creaking behind him and turned, hoping to see Ginny at the top of the stairs one last time, but instead he saw only the light from her room fade to dark as she shut her door, leaving him alone in the dark at the foot of the stairs.
_____________________________________________________________________
Author's Note: Fluff Central! I do promise a bit more action (not just of the sexual kind) in the next few chapters).
