A/N: This story was only supposed to be two chapters, but it's going to be a bit longer. Probably only one more, but we'll see. I think Harry's a little bit out of character in places – more like I imagine he'd be if the prophecy and Voldemort didn't exist. I wanted to give him a bit of a break.

Four days later, Harry was in the library, trying to finish a Transfiguration essay when Ron and Hermione plopped down on either side of him. He was trying to remember the precise order of spells for changing a single object into three separate different objects and barely looked up, glancing instead at his watch. Fifteen minutes.

"That bad, is it, Harry?" Hermione's voice dripped with sympathy.

At the last minute, Harry bit back his answer – yes, he had it bad –and looked up. "Huh?"

Ron shook his head. "What happened, mate? You're actually hiding in the library now, and it's more than obvious you've been avoiding Ginny."

Harry struggled to feign confusion. "Avoiding . . . avoiding, Ginny? Why would I avoid Ginny? Ginny and I are friends. I've no reason to avoid her." The words sounded glaringly fake. Harry looked at his watch. Twelve minutes.

"I dunno, it just seems like every time she walks into the common room, you walk out," said Hermione. "And when Ron got that letter from his mum and she came over to see what it said, you went running out of the Great Hall like a banshee was after you."

"And you haven't called another Quidditch practice, and didn't you tell her last week that you'd help her practice the defensive spells she'll need for her OWLs? You haven't done that, have you?" Ron peered at him.

Harry squirmed. Nine minutes. I really don't know what you both are talking about," he said. "Nothing has happened, between Ginny and me, I mean. Nothing's changed. I don't know what you're talking about." He huffed and picked up his quill. "Now, if you don't mind, I've got this essay I need to finish." He didn't need to pretend to look harried; he was supposed to meet Ginny outside the greenhouses in seven minutes and he didn't want to be late.

"Let me help you then," said Hermione. She reached over and turned the parchment in her direction.

Harry stifled a groan. Any other time, he'd fall all over himself to get Hermione's help. But by the crease in her forehead, he could tell she was gearing up for a long session of editing his essay and explaining to him exactly what he'd done wrong. He thought quickly.

"Actually, Hermione, that would be a big help. I'm umm, I'm not feeling that great. Headache. That's why it's taking me so long." He rubbed at his eyes in what he hoped was a convincing manner. "It's been coming on all day and now it's pretty bad. Maybe I should just go lie down or something."

Ron gave him a sharp look. "What kind of headache?" he asked. "Is You Know Who planning something?"

Damn, should have said it was my stomach.

Harry shook his head. "Just a regular headache, I think. Too much going on, you know? With school, and Dumbledore, and Quidditch, and tailing Malfoy." He grimaced. Even leaving now, he was going to be late. He stood up. "I'm sure I'll okay after I have a nap." He waved his hand at the parchment. "Whatever you can do, Hermione, would be great. Really great." He rubbed his head and grimaced. "I need to go lie down."

Without waiting for an answer, Harry practically sprinted out of the library. He was panting when he arrived at the greenhouses – two minutes late – and Ginny looked at him in concern. He waved away her worry. "Ron . . . Hermione . . . library," he said, trying to slow his breath.

Ginny chuckled. "Have they been on you too? Hermione practically cornered me in the loo to ask if I doing okay. I thought she meant about Dean." She snorted. "Turns out they think you are giving me the cold shoulder for some reason."

Harry could finally speak again. "Yeah, apparently I've been doing too good of a job avoiding you," he said. "Ron noticed I've been neglecting Quidditch."

"Which you absolutely cannot do," said Ginny. "Especially considering that it's the one place you and I can be together without having to hide or anyone getting suspicious."

Harry took Ginny's hand and tugged her off the path to a shortcut to the lake they'd discovered the day before. There was a quiet spot behind a copse of trees where the grass grew especially thick; a few extra charms made it as soft as a pillow. "I know," he said. "We need to start practicing for the Ravenclaw match. I just keep thinking someone will figure it out, if they see us together." He grinned. "Like, you'll make a great move and I'll forget and kiss you or something."

"Or you'll spend all of practice staring at my bum," said Ginny cheekily. "Don't think I don't notice when you do that that."

Harry flushed. "I can't help it," he admitted. "It's a very cute bum, and there are only so many times that it's not covered by robes."

"It's not covered now," Ginny pointed out. She let go of his hand and jogged ahead of him, then stopped and looked back over her shoulder. "Like what you see?"

"Hell yeah," said Harry. "Especially when it's moving up and down like that."

Ginny laughed and took off running down the path and Harry chased her, half of him just enjoying the view and the other half rather amazed at how comfortable he felt, admitting to Ginny that he liked watching her bum. He caught up to her easily – he was pretty sure she wanted to get caught – and grabbed her around the waist. She laughed when he tickled her sides and so he did it again, just to hear the sound of her happiness.

"What about me?" he asked, low in her ear.

She twisted to look at him. "What about you?"

"I was just wondering, is there a part of me you like to watch?" Harry marveled at his boldness. He felt Ginny's breath hitch.

"Something that moves up and down?" she whispered.

Harry shivered. "Maybe just up," he whispered back. The air was charged between them as he pulled her the last few steps to the spot under the trees.

So far, they'd not done much more than kiss. Heated, open-mouthed kisses, yes, the kind that made Harry lose track of himself, but nothing else. He'd been excruciatingly careful to keep his hands on Ginny's back, or in her hair, or gently cupping the sides of her face (she'd liked that a lot), and had avoided any part of her body that constituted a next step. It was getting more difficult. Just yesterday, he'd twice caught himself about to touch her bum (she wasn't wrong about how much he liked it), and had pulled back at the last minute. It wasn't that he thought Ginny would mind; he suspected she'd probably like it as much as he did. But his own body was already reacting crazily to just their kisses, and he was barely been able to keep Ginny from feeling him, down there, when they were pressed together.

That morning, Harry had decided that maybe it didn't matter. He'd been brushing his teeth, reliving every stolen second with Ginny over the past days, and trying to keep the stupid smile off his face so his roommates didn't think he'd gone barmy. After briefly considering whether he should just wank before meeting Ginny, Harry had come to the conclusion that the amused look she'd given him yesterday after they'd snogged behind a tapestry had been because she knew exactly what he'd been trying to hide. It would be less embarrassing to stop dancing around while we kiss, Harry decided. Probably would feel a lot better too.

And so now, instead of trying to get as close to the top half of Ginny as he could while at the same time, keeping the area below his waist a healthy distance away, Harry slowly stepped closer. He watched carefully for any sign that she wanted him to stop, but Ginny's eyes were bright, and when Harry was close enough that he thought she just might be able to feel a hint of his arousal against her belly, she took a tiny step forward and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Harry couldn't hold back a groan. He dropped his mouth to Ginny's lips and his hands to her bum. "Okay?" he mumbled, not sure what he'd do if she said no.

"More than okay," she mumbled back, opening her mouth to his kiss.

It was more than brilliant, pressing himself up against Ginny while they snogged. They stood for a little while, Ginny's back against a tree, and then carefully, with blushing faces and a several do you wants and might as wells and then a rather enthusiastically hissed YES, they were lying next to each other, Ginny half on top of Harry, on the ground.

Her hip hitched across his waist and he wasn't even very embarrassed to pull her a little more firmly onto him so that she was more or less laying on his erection. Kissing in this position was an entirely new experience; Harry slid his hands up the back of Ginny's shirt and she wiggled against him in a way that made all thoughts fly out of his head.

He knew how far she'd gone with Dean, and was delighted to know they'd surpassed that just by lying down together, even (more or less) fully clothed. Ginny gave a little hum of satisfaction when Harry's hands skimmed the sides of her bra and he groaned when she pulled herself up to lie completely on top of him.

And in between kisses, they talked. Sometimes, it was about what they were doing at that moment; Harry particularly enjoyed discussing – and then attempting – several rather creative ways to unhook Ginny's bra with magic. Later, they talked about Quidditch, Harry tracing out formations on Ginny's bare stomach while she laughed. They might have been the only two people in world.

The shadows were growing longer by the time they reluctantly broke apart. Harry remembered the cleaning spells and Ginny fastened her buttons and they both grinned stupidly at each other at how brilliant it all was. Harry promised to set a Quidditch practice and Ginny promised to keep her bum covered throughout it, a vow Harry had mixed feelings about her keeping.

They separated just before rejoining the main path down to the greenhouses. Ginny doubled back to emerge from the path that led to the Quidditch pitch, her tousled hair and clothing adding credence to her story that she'd been out for a fly, should anyone have asked. Harry hurried up to the castle with a mind to find Hermione and retrieve his Transfiguration essay. He thought about grabbing Ginny for one last kiss but before he could do so, she'd pulled him back to her instead.

It was probably that last kiss that was to blame for the muddled state of Harry's brain, and the reason he could only look dumbly at Ron and Hermione when they accosted him just inside the doors to the castle and asked where he'd been all this time and hadn't he had a headache?

"Napping," he managed, and Ron's eyes narrowed.

"But where? You weren't in the dormitory, unless you've mastered how to transfigure yourself to look like an empty bed." He crossed his arms.

Harry forced himself to think. "I, uhh . . . I went for a walk. To clear my head," he stuttered. "Fell asleep under a tree by the pitch." Before Ron could ask any other questions, Harry turned to Hermione. "Thanks so much for helping me with Transfiguration. I just couldn't make sense of it at all today."

Hermione shrugged modestly. "It wasn't terrible, Harry. You just needed to focus more on why the order of spells is so important. Next time, if you look for . . . Ginny!"

Harry's head whipped around just in time to see Ginny approaching them. Harry started to take an involuntary step forward and pulled himself back just in time, trying to make the movement look like he'd tripped. He bumped against Ron and almost knocked him over; he was rewarded with the sound of Ginny's laugh.

"Okay there, Harry?"

He couldn't look at her while he responded. "Yeah, fine," he said shortly, afraid that even a few more syllables would give away the fact that not a half hour before, he'd been running a hand over Ginny's breast.

"Don't mind Harry's rudeness, he's apparently been napping all afternoon while Hermione and I did his homework."

"While I revised both of your homeworks, Ron," said Hermione in an amused voice. She'd become much more agreeable ever since Ron had ended things with Lavender. He and Ginny had talked about it just an hour ago, right after she'd . . .

Damn.

Harry swallowed hard and turned away, focusing on the house hourglasses on the wall just opposite. Was Gryffindor in the lead, or was it Slytherin right now? He peered closer. Maybe there was a spell that could count. . . ouch!

The punch on his arm was not gentle and he turned towards Ron, rubbing it. "What's that about?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "I've only asked you three times where you were napping, down by the pitch. Ginny was out flying and said she didn't see you. There aren't many trees down that way." Ron's voice was suspicious.

"I . . . I was disillusioned," said Harry quickly. "Didn't want to get interrupted."

"Oh, you've mastered self-disillusionment? I'm still having trouble, can you help me?" Hermione sounded concerned and Harry bit back a groan. He still had no idea how to disillusion himself, he'd barely practiced the spell after they had learned it in DADA the other day. He'd been too busy with . . .

Damn.

He put his hand to his head. "Actually, my headache's not all gone," he said. "I think I'm going to go lie down; I'm sure Dobby will bring me something to eat later."

Without waiting for an answer, he turned and rushed off, sure he could hear another of Ginny's laughs behind him, over Ron's blustering about the rudeness of his best mate.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry got a thorough talking-to about that rudeness the next day in the common room; Ron wanted him to know that avoiding Ginny is not the way to get her to fancy you back, mate. Hermione was more circumspect.

"Sometimes, when you've been friends with someone for a long time, it can be difficult to let them know how you feel, don't you think?" Hermione looked at Harry seriously. "I mean, you've known Ginny almost as long as we've known Ron, right? She might be . . . completely oblivious to your feelings, and I'm sure you don't want to ruin your friendship by introducing the idea that . . . there might be more between the two of you." Hermione glanced furtively at Ron, who was nodding in agreement.

"She's a tricky one, Ginny is," he said. He cuffed Harry on the arm and Harry bit back a grin at his friend's cluelessness.

"At least I know I fancy her," he pointed out. "I'm . . . I'm just not sure how she feels about me, not yet." Harry smirked. "It might be different if Ginny and I spent as much time together as, say, the three of us do, you know? But since I don't see her as often, I'm willing to be patient." Hermione turned a bit pink at Harry's words, but Ron merely nodded seriously. "Good idea, mate. You know, if you get her to fancy you back, let her think it was all her idea. Ginny likes to make her own decisions. She's unusual that way. I think most witches like the bloke to take control."

Harry had to mask his snort behind a coughing fit. "I'll remember that, right," he finally gasped. "Water," he mumbled, getting up from the table. "Going to get some." Ginny would be finishing Charms soon; she had to hear this.

HPHPHPHPHP

Harry refused to catch Ginny's eye the entire time he was talking to the Quidditch team before their practice on Sunday. He'd gotten a magical chalkboard and spent most of the time with this back to everyone, quickly sketching out formations and new moves, and then animating them to fly around. He described the players by their positions instead of their names, so certain was he that everyone would be able to hear something in his voice if he tried to talk about Ginny.

Nevertheless, he could feel her eyes boring into his back the entire time he was speaking. It was like a physical thing; at one point, Harry was certain he could feel Ginny's finger brushing gently across the back of his neck. He broke a piece of chalk in his hand, trying to regain control, and Demelza asked him if he needed some water, because his voice sounded rather odd.

Harry shook his head and waved everyone out of the changing rooms and into the air as quickly as possible, hoping that the physical activity and distance would help him focus. He didn't turn around to follow them until the silence promised he was alone. He should have known better.

Ginny stood by the doorway, arms crossed, a slight smirk on her face. "This is going to hard for you, isn't it?" she asked.

Harry nodded, closing the distance between them. "Hard is a good word for it," he mumbled, before leaning in for a kiss. Ginny put her arms around his neck and that reminded Harry of something. He pulled back. "Did you somehow touch me while I was showing you the formations? I could have sworn I felt your hands on the back of my neck."

Ginny grinned. "Physical projection gloves," she said, holding up her hands. "From Fred and George." She waved them at Harry and said a few quiet words and suddenly he could have sworn she was running her hands down his sides. He shivered. "Those are . . . they are, umm . . ." he swallowed. "Probably illegal to use in a game, better take them off," he finally said. "But don't lose them," he added firmly. "I think I may want to see what else they can do, later."

"I'm looking forward to it," promised Ginny. She dropped the gloves on the bench and pulled on her regular ones, before giving him another quick kiss and slipping out of the changing room.

Harry counted to ten slowly before joining her, both to reduce suspicion that they had been together and also to allow his body some time to regain control. The upcoming Ravenclaw game was important. Not only would it decide the winner of the Quidditch cup, but Cho would be playing against Harry as Seeker. It felt vitally important that his team show up hers up in the match. Taking a deep breath, Harry nodded to himself and grabbed his broom.

Everyone was up in the air, and by the looks of things, they had been listening to his speech. Harry recognized the formations he'd described and was pleased to see they looked as good in person as they had on the chalkboard. He tried to pay equal attention to the way all three Chasers moved together, dodging Bludgers and weaving in and out of the Beaters, but it was no use; his eyes kept coming back to the flash of red in the middle. She moved effortlessly, the few hairs that had escaped her ponytail whipping around in the wind as she flattened herself against the handle of her broom.

Harry closed his eyes, remembering what it felt like to have those same strands of hair tickle across his chest and arms when Ginny lay on top of him, and thinking about how much he wished she was lying on top of him right now, instead of her broom.

He'd never ridden a broom with an erection before, but apparently he wasn't going to have a choice. Harry kicked off into the air and purposely flew wide, high circles above the team while he willed his body to get back under control. Watching Ron and the Beaters helped, and Harry had finally dared to magnify his voice and was calling suggestions when an errant Bludger missed the end of Jimmy Peakes' bat and smacked into Ginny's back. She wobbled for a second – she obviously hadn't seen it coming – before slowly flying down towards the grass.

Harry was beside her in a half-second. His spell, and Ron's, would have kept Ginny on her broom anyway, but though her face was tight with pain, Harry could not help be impressed at the control she showed in her descent.

Once on the ground, Harry helped Ginny off her broom; it was evidence how bad she felt that she let him. The rest of the team gathered around and Demelza darted forward to perform an ice charm across Ginny's back. She leaned forward, hands on her knees, and groaned. "That feels good," she said.

"Does she need the hospital wing? I can take her." Jimmy Peakes was darting around, obviously feeling guilty about his role in Ginny's injury.

"Not the hospital wing," Ginny said quickly. "Madame Pomfrey would probably keep me overnight." She tried to straighten up, and winced before bending back down. "But I need something to help the bruise." She looked up at Harry. "You had to learn that spell, didn't you? When you became captain?"

Harry gulped. The captain's quidditch training manual did in fact contain a number of simple healing spells, but in truth, Harry hadn't paid them much attention, preferring to spend his time studying moves and formations and strategies. He didn't say this though. "Uh, yeah," he said. "I'm sure there's a spell to fix this so . . . Ginny . . . doesn't have to go to the hospital wing." Just saying her name casually was difficult; it always made him want to grin. He put his hand gently on Ginny's back and felt her shiver in a way that seemed to have nothing to do with her injury.

Harry nodded. "I'll need to look at the bruise, to make sure it's something I can heal," he said decisively. He leaned his head down. "Can you make it to the changing room?"

Ginny's hair had loosened from her ponytail and fell around the sides of her face as she leaned over. "Not sure," she said. "It hurts to stand upright."

Harry called Ron over, and together they created a chair with their arms and eased Ginny into it. Demelza cast a spell to make her almost weightless and in minutes, Ginny was stretched out on her stomach on one of the padded training benches in the changing room.

Harry bit his lip. He wanted to lift up Ginny's shirt and assess the damage, but the rest of the team was gathered around and he felt self conscious, not to mention that he still needed to get the training manual and learn the healing spell.

"Okay, um. . . ." he began. He put his hand on Ginny back again. "I guess I'd better take a look at where you got hit." He fumbled at the bottom of her uniform shirt.

"Hey, give him some space, that's my sister who's hurt!" Ron was suddenly pushing people towards the door. "Go on, she'll be fine, I'll make sure he doesn't break her." Ron gave Harry a pointed look. "You're not going to break her, right?"

"Right, I promise," said Harry quickly. Ron nodded. "Then let's take advantage that Harry's not going to keep us here another hour, talking our ears off while we miss lunch," he said, waving expansively. "Get going. I'll be there in a second, once Ginny's sorted."

No one needed to be told twice; everyone else left quickly. Harry wondered if Ron actually intended to stay. He'd wandered casually over to the shelf where the training manual was, and was now flipping through the pages. "Come here, I think I found it." Ron gestured to Harry.

When they were bent over the spell, Ron cast a quiet Muffliato and spoke to Harry in a low voice. "I'm going to leave," he said. "This is the perfect chance for you to fix whatever it is you mucked up with Ginny by ignoring her all this time, okay? I don't care what you say – apologize to her, admit you're an arse, whatever." Ron's tone boded no argument.

Harry stifled a grin and forced himself to sound contrite. "I'll do my best. You're right, I've really not been fair to her. We're . . . we're friends. And I need to act like one, no matter what else I feel."

Ron nodded in satisfaction. "Hermione will be glad to hear you've come to your senses," he said. He picked up the book. "Just don't make her feel worse," he warned. "Physically or otherwise." He walked over to his sister. "Harry's got the spell, I think he knows what to do. Is that okay? I want to meet Hermione for lunch."

Harry thought Ginny was trying very hard not to laugh. "Harry . . . ? Umm, okay. If you think he knows what he's doing."

"He does," Ron confirmed. "And if I doesn't, I expect you to tell me, okay?"

"Okay," said Ginny in a muffled voice.

Ron left. Harry waited an extra beat to make sure he wasn't going to suddenly reappear with yet another piece of advice before he carefully set a ward at the door to alert them if anyone was coming; a spell to keep people out of the changing area completely would be rather suspicious.

The table Ginny was lying on was about waist high. Harry put his hand lightly on her shoulder, not sure how much pain she was actually in.

"Does it hurt a lot?" he asked. "That Bludger hit you pretty hard."

Ginny nodded, her head against the table. "The surprise of it was the worst, almost knocked me off my brook" she said. "It hurts, but it's not unbearable." She lifted her neck to look at him. "And I think you can make it feel a lot better."

Harry grimaced. "I haven't studied those healing spells at all," he admitted. His hand was still on Ginny's shoulder. "I don't really know what to do."

"What does the book say?" Ginny sounded rather languid and Harry remembered that the training tables were charmed to be warm. He ran his hand down her arm.

"Falling asleep there, Weasley?" Harry moved his hand to Ginny's back, just below where the Bludger had ht. "I should take a look," he said.

"'Kay," said Ginny. Her voice had definitely gotten sleepier.

Carefully, Harry lifted the back of Ginny's top. She lifted her stomach so that he could bunch up the fabric under her. A dull bruise the rough size and shape of a Bludger spread across her back, just under her shoulder blades. Harry brushed his hand over it.

"This doesn't look too bad," he said. "Can I try to heal it?"

"You can try anything," mumbled Ginny.

Harry grinned. He read the spell a couple of times and said the words under his breath. Ginny's breathing was slow and steady; she was very relaxed. Quietly, Harry performed the charm and watched as the bruise faded to a yellowish green color. Ginny jerked slightly against the table. "Ohhh, that feels . . . that feels better," she said. "It's like you took a weight off my back. Is that it?"

"Not quite," said Harry. "There's one more part." He put the training manual on a nearby table.

Ginny's back was smooth and soft. Harry gently lay both his hands across the place where the bruise had been – he saw with satisfaction that it was almost gone now – and let them rest on her warm skin before running them down to her waist. "I need to check and make sure you're totally healed," he said thickly. He moved his hands back up and Ginny gave a little sigh of contentment.

"I'm still a little sore," she said.

Slowly, Harry explored every inch of Ginny's back, lightly drumming his fingers along her shoulders, smoothing his palms down her sides, resting his full hands right above the curve of her bum. His movements were gentle and deliberate and rather than feeling like he was becoming aroused, Harry found himself sinking into the same kind of languor as Ginny. He'd never really thought about this part of her body before; her front was usually what captured his attention. It was surprisingly intimate – and yet, not at all sexual – to touch Ginny like this, and Harry took his time in the quiet stillness. Ginny wasn't talking, but he knew she was not asleep.

Without really thinking about it, Harry lowered his head to Ginny's shoulder and kissed the sprinkling of freckles he'd discovered earlier. Ginny made a sound of relaxed contentment, and Harry pushed her hair to the side and kissed across both shoulders. He felt as her heartbeat sped up, the tiniest bit.

"Is that okay?" he asked.

In response, Ginny slowly rolled over, a lazy smile across her face. "It's brilliant," she said. She stretched like a cat. "My back feels totally back to normal. You can give me a massage anytime."

"Just don't get hit by a Bludger again first," Harry said. He looked down at her. "I'd really like to keep kissing you," he said honestly. "But . . ."

"But even my brother can't eat lunch forever," finished Ginny. "And he's going to want to know if you've properly apologized to me for your earlier rudeness." She sat up.

Harry kissed her. "And have I?" he asked.

Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and hopped off the table. "I . . . think so," she said. "But we might need to finish talking about it later. How it made me feel when you were so . . . rude to me." She ran her arms down Harry's sides. "In private."

"I'll do whatever it takes to show you how sorry I am," promised Harry. He took her hand. "I wonder if Ron would get suspicious if I needed to finish apologizing to you in a broom closet."

Ginny grinned. "I'm sure we can make up some excuse."