Chapter 3:

The bright morning sun warmed his face and brought him to his senses, though he refused to open his eyes. Other than the one nightmare his rest had been relatively peaceful, allowing him to sleep longer and deeper than he had in years. He didn't want to ruin the restful feeling by moving.

He could smell lavender on his pillow and could feel an unusual softness lying in his arms. He moved his hand over the mass on the bed at his side and his eyes snapped open as he realized what it could only be. Ginny.

Harry looked at the sleeping girl snuggled against him. At some point in the night she had turned around and was now facing toward him, her head tucked under his chin. Her creamy white skin was all too apparent, as she was wearing only a white tank-top and silk purple shorts. Her hair fanned out over the pillow, which seemed to have absorbed her scent, a fact that Harry did not mind at all. Her mouth was slightly pouted, lips a soft shade of pink. Long lashes against slightly freckled cheeks hid, beneath their lids, rich chocolate colored eyes.

For a moment Harry was completely still, at first from shock, and then from indecision. He wasn't sure if he should wake her, for the situation was rather embarrassing for the both of them. And she looked like a perfect angel. But that was beside the point. If he were to let her sleep, they might be discovered by a member of the Weasley family, and as much as they loved and supported him, he doubted that they would be pleased to find Ginny sharing his bed. He was just about to shake her gently awake when her eyes fluttered open on their own.

At first she just looked at him with a sort of dazed expression on her face. Then her gaze drifted down and she almost yelped. Seeing his naked chest suddenly awakened her to the fact that she was in Harry's bed. In his arms, no less.

How could she have been so irresponsible as to let herself drift off to sleep again, knowing full well that morning would come sooner than later, probably along with some unwanted attention from her family should they happen upon her own empty bed.

There was a stillness between them for a moment, like two deer caught in the headlights, and then in a few frenzied movements they were both out of bed, Harry hurriedly dressing while Ginny dashed to the door. She paused to listen, making sure that the coast was clear before quickly slipping into the hall and back into her room.

She let out a breath she had not realized she was holding and pushed her back against the door, slowly sinking down onto the floor.

I can't believe I slept all night in Harry's bed! And, oh God, he looked so bloody gorgeous this morning. I wonder if he may have started to notice me in that way…oh, snap out of it, Ginevra. With all those beautiful girls throwing themselves at him at Hogwarts it's a miracle he even knows I exist. But then, he was still holding me in his arms even after he was awake…

She decided to stop her thoughts there, before they got too out of hand. Let's just get through the summer and see how that goes before making something out of nothing. He was probably just as shocked as I was. That's all.

Sighing deeply, Ginny traded in her silk p.j. bottoms for jean shorts and pulled on a yellow t-shirt. Throwing her hair into a ponytail and sliding on some flip-flops, she approached the door, took a deep breath, and threw it open.

Harry's bedroom door stood ajar, and she could tell that he was not in there. She figured he must already be at the breakfast table. She would have noticed that the shower was running had she not been preoccupied with stilling the erratic beating of her heart at the prospect of facing the boy she had just spent the night with.

You act as if something actually happened, she scolded herself. Just an innocent nap. In each other's arms. Stop it! Calm down and face him already!

Ginny had by this time reached the kitchen doorway and, holding her head high, she marched in. She was surprised to find that Harry was not present at the table, which was filled only by Hermione.

This came as a relief to her, and she immediately shed all embarrassment to partake in the meal with her friend. The conversation ranged from greetings, to queries as to how she had rested (at which point she blushed profusely) and finally to the plans for the day.

"Last night Ron mentioned that he wanted to play Quidditch today if the weather was nice. From the looks of it, I'd say it's perfect outside for a game. I think I will just read, but do you want to play?" Hermione had finished her breakfast at a leisurely pace and had just pushed her plate away and leaned back in her chair, contentment in every line of her face.

"Yeah, that sounds great. I feel bad leaving you to read by yourself, though."

"Don't be ridiculous! I love reading! I've actually been waiting to start this one book. You see, it is a complete encyclopedia of potions…" Ginny tried her best to concentrate on what her friend was saying, but it was hardly something that interested her. At the precise moment Hermione had begun her monologue Ginny had chanced to look up, only to catch the eye of a most surprising person.

Harry had just entered the kitchen, hair wild despite its dampness. He wore jeans and a grey t-shirt, just tight enough to hint at his muscular chest. Which Ginny had gotten a rather personal look at that morning. And last night.

She could feel the heat creeping into her cheeks and the tight knot in her throat, preventing her from swallowing. She was about to look away in embarrassment when Harry gave her a tentative smile and then took the seat across from her and next to Hermione.

"Oh, I see I have missed the beginning of your homework lecture, Hermione. How very unfortunate. Although, I had meant to ask you a favor in that very area. You see-"

"Harry! I am not giving you any answers to your homework! Your teachers assigned that to you so that you could learn, not so that you could spend the summer doing absolutely nothing and then copy off of a friend." Hermione immediately stopped her conversation with Ginny about the encyclopedia in order to harp into Harry. "Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to make some studying schedules for you. And Ron too!" She got up from the table and could be heard mumbling under her breath about irresponsible boys as she made her way up the stairs.

Harry winked at Ginny as he began to pile bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast onto his plate.

"How selfless of you," Ginny cried, pretending to swoon out of her chair.

"I thought so! You do you realize you owe me big time for rescuing you from that overview of whatever book she is currently reading. I was planning on putting all my homework off until the last few days, but now I have Hermione on my back." Harry laughed good-naturedly as he buttered his toast and took a big bite.

"I beg your pardon, Potter! I didn't ask for your help so I am therefore in no way obligated to make it up to you." She gave him a cheeky smile and reached for the juice.

"Well then, that's the last bloody time I do anything nice for you!" Harry tried to look severe but his shining eyes betrayed his true attitude.

"Oh, on the contrary! Have you forgotten so soon that I won the bet? From now on, when I go like this," and she made a fish face by sucking in her cheeks, "then you have to rescue me from whatever situation I am in!" Ginny gave Harry a wicked grin as he laughed.

"Fine by me. My reward will be seeing you make that face in public!"

"I've done worse," Ginny responded, thinking of the singing valentine she had sent Harry a few years back. He quirked an eyebrow at her as she flushed.

"So, what's on the agenda for today? I can't wait to actually do something for a change."

"Well, Hermione mentioned that Ron wanted to play some Quidditch. I'm not sure how that will work with only three people, but it sounds like fun. Do you want to?"

"Yeah, that sounds great. I haven't been on a broom in ages. I want to be in top shape for my last year on the Gryffindor team, so I need to get in as much practicing as possible."

"Me too. It's hard to believe that I'm in my seventh year. I feel like there's been a time warp or something." At that Harry smiled, remembering his third year with the time turner.

"I'm going to go get my broom. I'll meet you outside, okay?" Ginny asked, standing up from the table.

"I'll be done in a second, then I'll come join you. Oh, I should wake up Ron, too." Harry watched Ginny as she made her way upstairs, admiring how graceful she seemed. He then quickly pushed all such thoughts aside and finished his breakfast, Quidditch the sole thing on his mind.

As Harry made his way to Ron's bedroom, he became aware that a very heated conversation was taking place on the other side of the door. He paused, not knowing whether or not he should be hearing what was being exchanged. Harry made as if to turn around and head back to his own room when Hermione came storming down the stairs, having just exited Ron's company.

Harry was the unfortunate recipient of one of Hermione's glares, which she shot his way with a disgruntled mumble of "They're all the same!" as she passed him on the narrow stairs.

He quickly pushed himself against the wall in order to get out of her way lest he be run-over, and then hurried to Ron's room to see what had happened. He figured that the red-head would be much more willing to talk seeing as he wasn't the one currently hating all belonging to the male gender.

Harry knocked uncertainly on the open door and entered to find his friend sitting on the bed and with a definite hunch in his shoulders. Approaching carefully, as one might advance on a snoozing lion, Harry reached the bed and cleared his throat.

"Er, Ron, is everything alright?"

"What do you bloody well think!" Ron snapped. Then, face softening, he turned toward Harry and offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry, mate. I'm just a bit upset." He paused, obviously determining if he should continue; whether it would be unbecoming of a man to actually, God forbid, express his feelings. "Hermione and I had a fight," he said flatly after a few moments.

"Well, that's nothing new," Harry responded, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Unfortunately it had the opposite effect. Ron's face soured, forcing Harry to think quickly. "Er, um, sorry mate, I didn't—"

"No, you're right; we do fight all the time. It's just…well, this might seem stupid, but it was different. This was our first argument as, well, as a couple."

"What did you…er, what happened?"

"Well, Hermione came in here with some parchment talking about a summer homework schedule and, well, I had just woken up so I was kind of out of it…I may have said something about her getting too consumed by things like that. Then I…brought up spew."

Harry winced and gave his friend a feeble pat on the back. "She'll get over it. She always does, after all. Just, in the future, try not to bring up spew. You know how she is about that."

"Yeah. But what should I do?" Ron's voice was so genuinely worried and pleading that Harry felt sorry for the guy. He had had a few short relationships over the years, but never any that made him react like Ron over a small fight. But then, his girlfriends really hadn't understood him very much, so they were never any great loss. In fact, he was usually the one to end it.

"I'm not really sure how to deal with one of Hermione's moods other than to let her alone and hope she doesn't tear my head off the next time I see her. But I can see this is different, since you're dating and all." Harry suddenly grinned and, withdrawing his wand from his back pocket, he transformed a book into a rose. "How 'bout you give her this? And apologize profusely, of course. Make sure she knows what a git you are ("Hey") and that you never meant to say any of those things. Pretty much just go against every natural instinct you have. Be charming!"

Ron threw his pillow at Harry, but grinned nonetheless. "Yeah, flowers and an apology, I like it!"

He jumped out of bed and rapidly dressed. He carefully relieved Harry of the rose and rushed down the stairs after a "thank you" punch for his best friend.

Harry followed suit, thought much less rushed. He simply wanted to enjoy the feeling of having helped his friends out, for he had felt so useless and lonely all summer.

He entered his room to get his firebolt and was just about to head outside when he saw Ginny through his window, already flying. Harry smiled and pulled a snitch out of his trunk. He opened the window and let the small gold ball out of his grasp. It immediately dashed away and was lost in the great wide open. He jumped on his broom and exited his bedroom through the window, closing it on his way out.

Harry caught a glimpse of the snitch just two feet away from Ginny's turned back. He quickly leaned flat against his broom and urged it into a frighteningly fast pace. Ginny must have heard him approaching, for she spun around, seeing the snitch in the same instant she noticed Harry whizzing toward her.

Ginny, reflexes surprisingly quick, fell in beside Harry, racing him to get the snitch. They dived simultaneously, but lost the snitch in the tall grasses that covered the field behind the Burrow. Ginny giggled and ran her hand through the waves of weeds, loving the feeling of freedom and of her hair whipping behind her. Harry laughed as he sailed next to her, reveling in beauty as her fiery locks sparkled in the sun and her eyes danced.

Harry was so distracted, in fact, that he noticed only just in time that the snitch had resurfaced and was fluttering just over the grass. Ginny reached out her hand for it, clasping it in her grasp as Harry closed his own hand over hers. Ginny tilted away from him, causing both to lose their balance. They tumbled out of the air which, thankfully, was only a foot or two from the ground, and lay sprawled next to each other.

Ginny laughed and held up the snitch triumphantly. "Looks like you can be beaten at your own game, Potter!"

Harry rolled over, pinning her beneath him as he began mercilessly tickling her. She shrieked with laughter and wriggled under his weight, trying desperately to free herself.

"Stop it, Harry!" was all that she could get out between shrill laughter. There were tears in her eyes when he finally stopped, sitting and looking down at her where she lay. She was still laughing uncontrollably as he used his thumb to wipe away the wetness on her cheek.

Ginny immediately sobered, placing her hand on top of his, still on her cheek. Their eyes caught and held. She felt as though she could see right into Harry's soul, and it almost made her heart break. She saw such torment, loneliness, suffering, and exhaustion that she couldn't stop herself from sitting up slowly, never looking away, and pulling him toward her into a hug.

Harry was immensely surprised by this act of affection and was stiff at first. Just when Ginny, thinking she had made a mistake, was about to draw away and apologize profusely, Harry wrapped his strong arms around her and held her still closer. He buried his head in her hair, smelling the lavender and recognizing the comfort it gave him, as it had the night before. She stroked his messy black hair and murmured something into his shoulder. Though he could not hear what she had said, it put him at peace for a blissful moment. He felt as though, as long as he could continue holding her, he would be safe from all his worries.

The silence and beauty of the moment were ruined as they became aware of approaching voices. They disentangled themselves from one another and Harry stood, capturing Ginny's hand as she rose as well. She gave him a small smile and allowed him to pull her in the direction of the noise.

Ron and Hermione came into view as they mounted a small hill, also hand-in-hand. Upon seeing Harry and Ginny they waved and motioned them over. A picnic basket and blanket had been laid out over the grass and, having been invited to partake in the feast, Harry and Ginny sat with their two friends and chatted, bringing up neither the fight between Ron and Hermione nor the tender moments they had shared in the field.

After resting for a while, Hermione suddenly remembered the conversation that she and Ginny had been involved in that morning and immediately launched into the description which Harry's untimely (in her case, anyway) interruption had ended. Ginny caught Harry's eye and puckered her lips into a fish expression.

"…this extremely rare ingredient that…Ginny, what's wrong with your face? Have you eaten something sour?" Hermione looked, eyebrows knit, at her friend's peculiar expression.

Before Ginny could respond, Harry, true to his prior promise of rescue, stood up and cleared his throat. "Erm, Ginny…umm, could you come with me to…look for the snitch we were using before?" Though he knew full well that the tiny gold ball was tucked inside Ginny's pocket, it was the best excuse he could think of.

"Yes, of course. Sorry Hermione, Ron. I'll meet you guys back at the house, okay?" She raised her eyebrows and grabbed Harry's hand, pulling him away with her before the other two could revive from the stupor surprise and confusion had put them in.

Harry noticed that, even after they had lost sight of Ron and Hermione, Ginny didn't let go of his hand. He didn't mind, he had to admit to himself. He gripped her slightly tighter and enjoyed her company as they retreated to the shade of the house.

That night, Harry crawled into bed after having made sure he was fully dressed, not wanting to be caught in his boxers again. Though he wouldn't mind awaking to find Ginny there beside him, ready to comfort him.

Over the next few nights Ginny began to sense when Harry was having the preliminary stages of a nightmare and would come to wake him before anything got too serious. On more than one occasion it was Harry who awoke in the middle of the night to the soft cries of Ginny's bad dreams. At times like these he would sneak into her room and smooth her hair, whispering softly so as to comfort her without waking her. She began to suspect, however careful he was, that he was doing this, for she had never had so many restful nights in a row.

It was not until Harry's seventh night at the Burrow that she actually emerged from her nightmare to find the black-haired boy leaning over her, stroking her head and holding her hand. It was very late, or rather early, whichever way you looked at it, and she had been in the throws of a particularly nasty dream concerning Tom Riddle. He had been about to kill Harry, who had arrived to save her from the basilisk. Harry had been surprised to hear his own name on her lips as she cried out and moaned in horror. He found himself wishing that the moan had been a product of an entirely different sort of dream, though still containing him. He had sat on her bed and placed a cool hand on her feverish brow, prepared to stay with her until the worst was over.

Only, something had not gone to plan. Her eyes had fluttered open at his touch, and he was now staring into her chocolate orbs. She let out a little gasp and a tear trickled down her cheek. Harry brushed it away with his thumb and pulled her into a hug, acting entirely on instinct and feeling fiercely protective of her.

After a while Ginny stopped her quiet sobs and just let Harry hold her. She told him haltingly of her dream, though he had not asked. She knew he hadn't wanted to pry, that he himself hated it when people pressed for details as to what his nightmares had included. When she had finished he gave her a weak grin.

"Ginny, that incident with Tom Riddle, it wasn't your fault. You were young and susceptible to the evils of people like Malfoy. Unfortunately, the bastard exploited that fact. And, Ginny," he continued as she turned away, a single tear tracing the path so many others had just abandoned, "I will always be here to protect you. Nothing will happen to you again." He placed a hand under her chin and lightly guided her gaze back onto his own.

"Promise?" Ginny managed, throat constricting.

"Promise," Harry assured her.

She wiped her eyes almost angrily and set her chin grimly. "Everyone is always saying those words to me, that it's not my fault and that it was unavoidable, that if it hadn't been me it would have been someone else. But I never really listened until…well, until it was you who said it. I know you are suffering from the same kind of guilt and that helps me deal with mine. To know I'm not alone in this."

They sat in silence for a while, though it was quite comfortable. Then Ginny turned to Harry and placed her hand on his cheek.

"Harry, would you…would you kiss me?" The end of her question came out as a whisper, but then she set her mind and repeated it, a little louder. She didn't get to complete her second query, however, for Harry's lips had found hers.

A tingling like she had never known spread through her body. She knew that Harry was only complying to her request because she had won the bet, but at that moment, she couldn't have cared less.

Harry pulled Ginny closer to him and, much to her surprise, deepened the kiss. His tongue traced her lips and she opened to him. He bore her down on the bed, coming to lie on top of her. Her hands knotted themselves in his thick raven hair and crushed his lips even harder into her own. Harry's right hand cradled her head while his left ran over her back, giving her a tingling sensation wherever it lingered.

She moaned softly against his lips and moved her hands down to his well-muscled back. When they finally came up for air (though Ginny would have willingly continued, having forgotten her need for oxygen), they were both in a daze. Neither could believe that the other reacted so passionately to the kiss, which had started innocently enough. Ginny was about to say something to the effect of "wow", for that is all her scrambled mind could put together, but she found her lips were otherwise engaged. She grinned against Harry's mouth and slid her hands up the back of his shirt. This seemed to embolden him, for he began to slip his hands up the front of her top.

Ginny pulled off Harry's shirt as he began to suckle her neck. She was fingering the ties of his p.j. bottoms and contemplating the best way to remove them entirely when Harry stopped her. She opened her eyes to catch his gaze, questioning.

"Ginny," he gasped, and she could tell it was all he could do to control himself. Well, what if she didn't want him to control himself? "Ginny," he repeated, but it turned into a moan as she ran her fingers over his abdomen. He sat up and took her hands. "Ginny," he tried again, "I don't think we should get so…carried away. I mean, if we don't stop now, I don't think I will be able to stop. Do you see what I mean?" There was a pleading in his eyes that Ginny chose to ignore.

"What if I don't want you to stop?" she countered suggestively, toying with the pull-strings of his bottoms.

"Ginny, if we're going to…er, you know, then I would want it to be special. Not like this. Not after having just, er, gotten together. And your whole family is sleeping just feet away. I'm not sure, but I don't think they would appreciate stumbling upon us in a compromising situation on their way to the bathroom of something."

Ginny was suddenly rather ashamed of having even entertained the idea that they might…you know. She couldn't even bring herself to think of it. Well, okay, she definitely could, but if she did then she wouldn't be able to control herself. She nodded sheepishly and kissed Harry chastely on the cheek, handing him back his shirt. He grinned, caught her chin in his hand, and captured her lips in his. It was a few minutes before they broke apart, hopefully to continue at some point the next day.

She watched with a huge grin on her face as Harry tip-toed out of her room. Rolling over, she smothered her triumphant shout in her pillow. She didn't fall asleep for another hour, but not because she feared a nightmare. If anything she welcomed one, anything to bring Harry back into her bed.

As Ginny fell into a content sleep, Harry lay awake in his own bed, thinking over what exactly had just taken place. A huge grin played over his lips, which were slightly bruised from the intense workout that had just been employed in. His smile faded, however, when he began to think of how the Weasley family would take the news of his relationship with Ginny. He reasoned that Ron probably would be happy about the arrangement, having been hinting since his fifth year that he should get together with Ginny. And her parents most likely wouldn't mind, seeing as how they seemed to love him like one of their own. It was the twins and the older boys that worried him the most. But, he decided, he would figure that obstacle out when it came to it. He finally rolled over onto his side and fell into a restful sleep.

To Be Continued…

Hey guys, thanks for the reviews! My first ever, this is really exciting. I do hope I get a bit more, though, just to make sure the interest is there. Let me know how you think the story is evolving. Some big events are going to be taking place in the next few chapters, so keep reading so I will keep writing!