A/N:

I changed the tense because I couldn't quite capture the emotion I feel that Ginny deserves in a past tense setting. This story is definitely explicit! I changed the rating to suite. Reviews and constructive criticism appreciated!

The weeks pass quickly but May 1st and 2nd last forever. They stop by her mum and dad's in the morning, Ginny, at her mum's behest, went up to George's room and sat on the side of his bed in silence. George even let her hold his hand. They leave when Ron, Hermione, Bill, Fleur, Victoire, and Charlie show up. Ginny hugs them all in turn, struggling to hold in her own erupting emotions.

In the afternoon they visit Andromeda's and Harry takes Teddy out in the yard and Ginny sits for tea.

This stop is always the hardest. Andromeda is one of the strongest women Ginny has ever met, but the weight of raising Teddy after losing her daughter, son in law, and husband weighs on her. There are circles under her eyes and her face, though beautiful, is worn and drawn.

"You should go up and have a lie in," Ginny murmurs. She puts one hand over Andromeda's trembling one, "Harry and I will keep Teddy for a bit."

Andromeda places her free hand over her eyes, and the shaky breath she takes breaks Ginny's heart. She squeezes her hand around Andromeda's.

"I'm sorry, it's just the day." Andromeda's eyes are wet when she pulls her hand away. "I can't stand watching Teddy grow up without his parents, and I-"

Ginny tries to swallow but there's a lump in her throat.

"I suppose sometimes the missing hurts so much it feels like I've lost them all over again."

"I know."

It's all Ginny can bring herself to say. Her own pain is a constant ache, she can only imagine how Andromeda must feel. She gives her hand another squeeze. "Go on then. We'll put him down for his nap before we go."

Andromeda says no more, but she nods gratefully as she rises from her seat. She brushes a hand over Ginny's shoulder before she leaves the room.

Ginny sits there for a moment, alone, the weight of the day presses in on her. Sometimes, especially on this day, the thought of going on seems unbearable. Impossible.

She watches Teddy and Harry through the window. Teddy picks little yellow flower weeds out of the flower bed, handing them to Harry, his beaming face browning in the sun.

But go on we must, she thinks morosely.

She gives herself another moment to collect herself, wiping under her eyes and drying her hands on her trousers. She doesn't want Teddy to see her sad. Someday he'll have to understand this day, but for now she won't spoil his blissful innocence.

She banishes the tea cups to the sink, charming them to wash before joining Harry in the yard.

"Ginny!" Teddy cries as soon as he sees her. He yanks the bunch of weed flowers from Harry's hand. "I dust pick some frowers for you." He thrusts his gift into her hand, his smile so bright the vice grip on Ginny's heart can't help but loosen.

She crouches down in front of him, opening her arms to hug him, "Well thank you, sweet pea, these are my favourite. How did you know?"

Teddy throws his arms around her neck, and Ginny makes eye contact with Harry over his head. His expression is pinched in a way she knows means he's holding back his own pain and grief.

She pushes Teddy back enough to look at him, holding him by the shoulders, "Let's play for a bit longer and then it's time for a snack and some rest, alright?"

Teddy scrunches his face, "I'm not tired, no rest."

Ginny ruffles his hair, "Well let's play then, and we'll sort the rest later, eh?"

He bounds away, running as fast as his little legs can take him, "Hide and seek! Hide and seek!"

She can't help but laugh.

Harry offers a hand to pull her up, "They should be here," is all he says and Ginny's heart aches.

They play in the yard for another hour, stopping only when Ginny herds Teddy inside to wash up and have a snack. Harry's taken to staring into space in silence and Ginny knows it's time Teddy went to bed.

He falls asleep quickly, thankfully, and Ginny stops in Andromeda's room to rouse her and say goodbye, insisting she not get up and that they'd see her again soon.

She says nothing of it when Harry asks her to apparate them home, nor when he squeezes her arm and goes off to bed.

She knows he won't be sleeping. She knows she won't be either.

The greyness of grief fades over the next couple of days, and packing for their trip became a welcome distraction.

Harry works long hours in his last days at the office, and Ginny is left to her own devices, splitting her time between packing and having lunch at the burrow.

She's zipping the last of their suitcases in their bedroom when Harry comes home. "I'm in here!"

Harry's footsteps continue down the hall and up the stairs into their room, "All done, then?" He leans against the door frame.

Ginny nods, "That's the last of it." She digs her wand out her back pocket, charming the three admittedly overstuffed suitcases on the bed to be feather light. "I had to buy you new swim shorts, I couldn't find a single pair in your wardrobe."

Harry snorts, coming further in the room to help Ginny stack the suitcases in the corner. "I'd imagine not, I don't own any. Haven't worn swim shorts since the second task in my fourth year."

Ginny squints at him, "What? You've worn shorts to swim in the stream by the burrow, haven't you?"

He shrugs and flops backwards on the bed, "I mean, they were shorts, but not actual swim shorts." He picks up his head to look at her, "Thanks for going shopping for me."

Ginny joins him on the bed, laying her head on his shoulder and her arm across his waist. She hates packing… And shopping for that matter, but if the end result is a holiday with Harry, she can make the sacrifice. His lips press against the top of her head, arms wrapping around her to hold her tightly against him.

"Everything alright?" she asks quietly after a time.

Harry blows a noisy breath over the top of her hair, "Just…work. I don't want to rehash it, I just want to lie here with you and remind myself over and over that for the next two weeks, it's not my problem."

Ginny shifts, pressing up with one hand on his chest so she can see his face. He looks tired, his eyes are tinged red, and his hair a mess.

"Are you sure?".

Harry lifts his hand to her cheek, his thumb sweeping back and forth over her cheek. "I'm sure." His fingers slip to the back of her neck, pulling her down close enough to press their lips together. "Let's go out for dinner. It's been forever since we've gone out."

Ginny's stomach swoops in the way it always does when Harry is like this. Sweet and thoughtful. She also doesn't want to make dinner. She kisses the tip of his nose, his cheek, the small bit of skin beneath his earlobe.

Harry sucks in a breath through his teeth, "If you don't stop that we're not going to be having any dinner."

She grins against his neck, "I'm not hungry," she whispers in his ear, dropping more kisses from the back of his ear to his collarbone, "Are you hungry?"

Harry's hand tangles into her hair, "I could eat."

He flips her onto her back so fast the air whooshes out her lungs, she stares up at him, his pupils are blown wide and his lips centimetres from hers.

"That was fucking hot."

He laughs but his hands are on the button of her jeans, yanking them down her legs, and her brain is short circuiting already. Harry pushes her shirt up her belly, trails kisses up beneath her breasts, his hands skimming her skin, leaving gooseflesh in their wake.

She grabs his shoulders when he reaches her lips, her fingernails biting into the skin there. Harry's mouth is hot and wet against hers, his tongue slides along her lip for a moment and then he's gone, kissing her cheek, her neck, teeth scraping against her ear.

His hands push under her back, unclipping her bra in a move so swift she barely registers it's happening. Ginny rips her shirt over her head, then Harry's, pulling her bra down her arms and flinging it to the side. Harry's hands are warm, and his thumb feels soft as he circles it around her nipple.

Ginny presses the back of her head to the mattress, pushing her chest into his hands, her thighs squeezing his hips. Want is searing through her body, pooling in belly and her impatience grows. She grips his shoulders harder in an effort not to shove him down.

Harry lifts his head and the look he gives her is enough to send Ginny over the edge. She tries to make her expression say, "Get a move on," and not just, "Oh God, please". He must understand because his lips begin to move further south, skimming the edge of her knickers.

His fingers hook into the sides of her knickers, but instead of yanking them off the way he did her jeans, Harry inches them lower, pressing his lips to her skin as he goes.

It's all she can do not to buck her hips.

Finally, after an eternity she's sure, he pulls them all the way off, gripping her ankles and spreading them as he shifts them up the bed. His hands burn on her skin where they rest against her arse, his thumbs pressing just outside of her, pulling her open.

She tries to remember how to breathe, but she can feel Harry's breath against her and the anticipation is nearly suffocating her.

The very tip of his tongue flicks at her, and fuck if Harry isn't the absolute goddamn best at this. Ginny arches her back, pushing her hips down against him. He scoots away and she groans.

"Fucks sake," she grits out, reaching down to tangle her fingers into his hair, "If you don't get on with it-" But Hary does get on with it, and she's biting her lip instead of finishing her sentence.

She's not sure how long he stays down there, the only thing she's sure of is that she's teetering on a precipice and every time Harry's tongue flattens against her and sweeps from bottom to top, circling and flicking, she gets closer and closer to the edge.

Her hips are nearly moving themselves, her fingers are grasping and scraping through his hair, and with a sound she can't possibly control, she falls off the edge, panting and gasping in exhilaration.

Harry doesn't stop right away, in fact, he keeps at it until she tugs him up and away, still breathless and reeling. He's beyond satisfied with himself, (so is she for that matter,) but she pinches his bum anyway. "You cheeky thing."

Harry smiles wider still, bites at her shoulder, "Mmmhmm."

She's sure he'd say more, perhaps some other ridiculous comment, but her hand is wrapping around him and he's pressing jerking against her. She squeezes gently, her other hand on his hip, pressing him forward. "Well come on then," she murmurs against his ear.

Nothing can quite describe sex with Harry. She's tried. It's all encompassing. Too much and not enough. Sometimes when they're like this, entwined so tightly he can hardly shift his hips, her breasts pressed tightly to his chest, she feels as though he's absorbed her right into his soul. Or her, his, or whatever. She can't think straight when he's inside her.

Harry comes much more quietly then she does, but his head drops down against her when he does, his hips stuttering and his hand on her breast.

"You're incredible- the sexiest- an absolute knockout." His words are punctuated with kisses to her cheek, her neck, and finally her lips.

Her fingers find themselves back in his hair, trailing down the back of his neck.

She pulls away, "If I didn't think your head would explode I'd tell you that you're hands down, the most fantastic lay in Great Britain."

Harry chuckles, and it seems neither of them can help moaning as he slips out of her. He flops on his back beside her. "So…dinner?"

Ginny closes her eyes, her skin still feels electrified, "I think I'll just lie here and sink into the mattress, thanks."

He pokes her side where he knows she's ticklish. "Gyros then?"

She groans, forcing her eyes open, "Alright then. Be a dear and find my bra, would you?"

Travelling by portkey has never been Ginny's favourite. Harry's either, he's a bit green around the edges by the time they take their final portkey. She takes pity on him and apparates them both to their holiday cottage and he's practically swaying on his feet when they land neatly on the gravel right outside the gate.

It's bright and sunny in Mallorca and she can smell the sea air. The journey was long but she already knows the most they'll do once they're inside is drop off their things and head straight out to the seaside.

Their cottage, or rather, casita, is quaint and made of stone, there's a short walkway with an arch of beautifully shaped hedges on either side leading into a courtyard and veranda. The french doors and windows are curved with beautiful green shutters.

She and Harry look at each other, eyes wide.

"This place is-"

"Holy shite, Gin-"

They turn back to the gate, gaping in awe. Ginny saw pictures before she booked the place, but she never expected this level of beauty.

In a near trance she unlatches the gate, Harry trailing behind her holding the sleeve of her shirt. The cobbled walkway crunches beneath their feet and the water feature in the centre of the courtyard gurgles and bubbles. This place is… Ginny can't even describe it, the beauty, the melodic sounds.

They stand in front of the door for a minute, peering through the glass, inside they can see bright yellow arm chairs, a plush white settee. She looks at Harry, who she finds is staring right back at her, eyes wide.

"I can't believe we're actually here." Harry's hand slides from his grip on her shirt to her hand, "Thanks. For making me come here."

Ginny feels an unexpected rush of emotion for Harry, for the boy he used to be who was left behind and unwanted. She knew this trip would mean a lot to them, that their first time away together would be romantic and meaningful, but she hadn't anticipated what it would mean to Harry.

She leans forward, kisses him sweetly. "Let's go in then. If this is what the outside looks like, I can only imagine the rest of the place."

They take their shoes off by the door, something about the stone floor and the beautifully patterned rugs just makes wearing shoes inside feel wrong. The house itself isn't very large in comparison to the grounds, there's a single room with a king size bed and a blue accent chair, the sheets are bright white and the windows are wide open, the sea air making it cool and breezy. They set their suitcases in the corner, too interested in seeing the rest of the house to do any unpacking.

The kitchen is small but painted a cheery bright yellow with cream colored appliances, a small table with two chairs in the corner by the window. Through the back door they find a small pool, lounging furniture and a sweet little garden.

"Well," breathes Ginny, "I was going to suggest a walk through the town and maybe along the beach, but I can't find it in me to leave this place just yet."

Harry tugs her back towards the door, "Come on, let's change and have a swim. We can go for a walk later and get something for lunch."

The ensuite bathroom had a massive bathtub and a ridiculously large shower head in the accompanying shower. Ginny shook her head in disbelief. Their flat was nice for what it was, but the bathtubs were a normal size, and the shower certainly wasn't seperate.

"Tie this for me?"

She turned her back to Harry so he could reach the strings of her suit, (a suit she'd absolutely never wear in front of her mum and, to be frank, lacked quite a bit of material to be considered a swimsuit in the first place) she turned back around, Harry's hands stayed against her skin as she did.

"Blimey, where did you buy this thing?"

Harry's eyes were wide and his mouth agape. The smile curling on her lips simply couldn't be helped.

"Oh you know," she lifts her shoulders, "Do you like it?"

Harry's hands flex on her waist, he can't seem to stop his fingers from trailing over the skin between the straps on her back. "You're practically starkers," he whispered, scandalised.

The smile on her face probably resembled the cat who got the cream, but she just can't seem to tone it down, "Practically being the operating word. Ah-Ah-ah-"

She twists away from him, Harry's fingers drifting back towards the tie on her back, "I thought we were going for a swim?"

Ginny steps around him, very aware of her barely covered bum directly in Harry's line of vision. She tosses her hair over her shoulder, raising her eyebrows at him, "You coming?"

She walks away, but not before she catches him adjusting his pool is warm under the afternoon sun, it's perfect conditions for swimming, but what they do is less swimming and more, well…more.

Harry leaves barely an inch of space between them, and if Ginny had known this would be the result of going on holiday she'd have pushed for it sooner. She can't claim total innocence, her arms are resting on his shoulders, her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, and she does in fact have her legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

"Gin, you are- Blimey, I can't even-"

She tilts her hips towards him and he cuts off, dropping his forehead against her neck.

"If you don't stop this we're not going to make it to town for dinner," says Harry sternly.

Or at least he tries too. But Ginny had slicked back his hair with the water and he looks too ridiculous to be considered any sort of stern. Nonetheless she unwraps her legs, ignoring Harry's hands under the water trying to pull them back.

"So, is it everything you ever dreamed?"

The sun is directly over them now and she's grateful Harry's height is providing some shade, they hadn't remembered to apply any sunblock. She slides her arms down to rest against his chest, and his arms are still wrapped low around her waist.

Harry squints his eyes, looking around them at the flowers, the trees, the sky, eventually he looks back down at her. "It's more than I could have imagined," he pauses, wrinkling his nose, "It's hard to imagine the Dursleys enjoying a place like this, I bet they found something to complain about."

Ginny laughs, "Those miserable sods could complain about the sky being too blue." She rolls her eyes, brushing off the urge to say something more. She knows Harry wouldn't care if she went off on the Dursleys, but she doesn't want to bring them into this anymore.

"I can't believe we get to be here for two weeks. We should do this every year," says Harry, pressing his forehead to hers, "I mean it, we should. I can already tell. This is good for us."

For that she kisses him, "You old romantic."

He pinches her bum.

"I'd like that. Will we be exploring anywhere new, or shall we just come back here?"

Harry's lips purse in thought, "We'll come back here again first, then see?"

She nods, "I like that."

Deia is quite possibly one of Ginny's favourite places on earth. She hasn't been to very many, but something about holding hands with Harry, wearing strappy sandals, a sundress, and a silly floppy hat, makes this place a special place in her heart.

They wander in and out of shops for a while. Harry buys here a pair of pretty pearl stud earrings, and another floppy hat, this one beige with little yellow flowers sewn around the brim. She gets him a new shirt, a white linen she'll convince him to wear with at least two of the buttons undone.

The restaurant they find for dinner overlooks the sea with outside seating. They share paella mixed with meat and seafood, and a platter of spinach croquettes.

By the end of it Ginny is very glad she's wearing a dress, her stomach is full to bursting.

"We should have had sex before we left." She groans, leaning back in her chair, pressing both hands on her stomach. "There's no way we'll do anything now. You'll have to roll me out of here as it is."

Harry tosses a half eaten spinach croquette onto his plate. "I hate to say it, but you'll be rolling me out of here."

Ginny groans again for good measure. "Tomorrow we're hiking. And we're not eating ourselves sick again. We have two weeks, there's no need to stuff ourselves."

"Here, here." Harry tips his wine glass at her.

They sit there for at least another ten minutes, alternating between clutching their bellies and laughing at each other.

It's quite possible, Ginny thinks, that they'll never leave this wonderful, magical place.