Just act natural, Ginny reminded herself for at least the tenth time as she Apparated to a spot just outside the Burrow's wards. She'd been telling Harry the same thing for almost a week, and she just prayed he could follow through. Harry's typical response whenever he was trying to keep some thought or emotion hidden was to pretty much shut down completely. And then her mum would fuss over him and ply him with food, Hermione would drop everything to wheedle whatever it was out of him, and Ron would remark under his breath to Ginny that if she'd just give the poor bloke a snog he'd probably be in a much better mood.
Ginny groaned to herself. If Harry heard Ron say that, there was no way her family wouldn't figure out something was going on.
Get a hold of yourself, Ginevra! Ginny counseled herself. After all, it wasn't like it was the first time she and Harry had been together at the Burrow since they'd broken up. In fact, the frequency with which her mum had invited the entire family over for dinner in the months after she and Harry had decided not to be together had probably contributed to the ease with which the two of them had become comfortable around each other again.
Well, that, and a little magical help, of course, Ginny amended to herself.
But despite all the Burrow dinners she'd lived through with Harry in the past year, this would be the first since they had agreed to their new arrangement. And somehow, Ginny suspected it was going to be even more difficult and awkward for the two of them than even that very first meeting after their break up had been, when they had spoken to each other in polite tones about their work and other safely boring topics.
No. This was going to be worse. They were going to celebrate Ron and Hermione's engagement, for Merlin's sake! There would be no way to avoid talk of love and romance and someone was certain to bring up Ginny's status as still single – one of the twins, most likely. Harry wasn't going to be immune to that topic either, she realized. And he'd blush, and try not to look at her, and it would be yet another occasion for them to get caught.
Plus, the Burrow was probably going to absolutely reek of sex. Harry had mentioned that he'd walked in on Ron and Hermione having sex on the kitchen table at their flat last week, and that he kept finding Hermione's knickers tucked into the oddest places. It would have been funny to Ginny, thinking about her bookish friend becoming so uninhibited, if not for the fact that the person she was becoming uninhibited with, was Ron. The thought made Ginny shudder.
And Fred was bringing home Katie Bell and George could not be far off from getting engaged to Angelina Johnson and by the time the Burrow itself came into view, Ginny had worked herself up enough to imagine that she'd not even be able to go to the loo without stepping over the writhing bodies of her various brother engaged in acts of coitus with all of Ginny's old schoolmates.
Ginny huffed. Everyone was going to be getting some this weekend except for her. And Harry.
Because there was no way they could get away with anything in her parents' house with her entire family around. They already watched her and Harry like hawks, hoping to see any sign that the two of them were getting back together. Bugger.
There was just no way. None at all.
Was there?
HPHPHPHPHPHP
He probably wouldn't have been nearly as nervous about going to the Burrow if Ginny hadn't spent the past week threatening him with all manner of hexes if he didn't act natural, Harry mused to himself as he prepared to floo in. Part of Ginny's plan for acting natural included the rule that they could absolutely not arrive together, even though he was pretty sure that at least Ron knew Harry had been assigned to the Harpies and had been with the team all month. But Ginny was adamant. Not only could they not arrive together, they couldn't even use the same method of transportation, for some reason. They'd had a contest the night before to choose who got to Apparate and who had to use the floo. Ginny's hand job had brought Harry to orgasm exactly 37 seconds faster than his did to her, so she got to arrive via a method that did not create either nausea or the need for soot removal charms.
It's just because I was already aroused from getting her off, Harry thought petulantly to himself. He could have held on much longer if he had just gone first.
Yeah, right.
He looked at his watch. Ginny had ordered him to wait at least seventeen minutes after she left before he floo'ed – so she would have time to get to Burrow and get situated before he arrived. His stomach growled and he hoped Ron hadn't eaten everything before Harry got there. Not that that was usually possible, not with all the food Molly always made.
But Ron had uncharacteristically eaten almost nothing all week, he'd been so nervous about proposing to Hermione. Harry had been the recipient of no less than eight frantic Patronus messages from Ron, and he'd actually had to Apparate back to their flat several times just to reassure his best mate that yes, he could do this, and yes, Hermione was most likely going to agree to marry him. Now that the pressure was off, Ron would probably be eating everything in sight.
Harry just hoped the food distracted Ron enough not to notice anything unusual between him and Ginny. And that Hermione was too busy pouring over wedding magazines with Katie and Angelina. And Molly was too concerned with feeding them all, and Arthur was more interested in learning about Muggle wedding customs.
And the twins . . .
Oh, hell.
Exactly seventeen minutes after Ginny disappeared from the Harpies' Apparation point, Harry stepped into the floo in the team's main office and called out, "the Burrow!" He'd gotten marginally better at this form of transportation since his first, disastrous journey his second year, but it was still his least favorite means of magical travel.
At least I didn't stumble this time, he thought to himself, stepping out into the Burrow's kitchen and brushing off the soot. He had to force himself not to look immediately for Ginny, even though he could practically feel her gaze on him from across the room. It had been another one of her instructions for him – no eye contact until he'd greeted everyone else. Harry privately thought that between their FWB rules and Ginny's instructions for acting natural, he might as well just go sit in a corner of the room and refuse to speak to anyone, lest he reveal too much information about, well, pretty much anything.
Harry!" The cry broke out from several places around the room and Harry looked up cautiously. Ignore Ginny, ignore Ginny. Fortunately, Molly caught him immediately in a big hug and he was able to concentrate for a moment on not being smothered. From there he shook hands with Arthur and then moved easily to clap Ron on the back and hug Hermione, which of course moved into several minutes of oohing and ahhing over her ring (which Harry had already seen, in its box, a half dozen times; part of Ron's nervousness of the past week had led him to second-guess his diamond decision and Harry had been the one reassure him that yes, it was gorgeous. As if he knew a thing about womens' jewelry).
Finally, after dodging handshakes from both the twins and greeting their girlfriends, Harry finally dared to raise his head and look around the kitchen. He didn't know if it was his imagination, but suddenly the regular Weasley clamor and craziness seemed to die away as he met Ginny's eye. She was leaning against the counter watching him greet her family, a faintly calculating smirk on her face.
Harry was surprised. She definitely wasn't giving him the "friendly but disinterested" smile she'd decided was the safest expression for each of them to use when addressing the other. The look on her face was . . . something else entirely. Harry felt a momentary tremor of panic that he'd missed one of Ginny's instructions. The next minute he shook his head. Had she just licked her lips? He felt a tremor in quite a different part of his body and he had to force himself to break eye contact.
"You both must be so busy with your jobs. Ginny's been on the road all month – the team is doing so well right now," said Molly, looking back and forth between them with a slightly confused look on her face. "She just got here half an hour ago."
Seventeen minutes, actually, thought Harry to himself, and he couldn't quite hide his own smirk. He didn't know if Molly was unaware that Harry was working for the Harpies right now or if she was avoiding mentioning it, but if she was going to act as if he and Ginny hadn't seen each other since the last Burrow dinner, well then, Harry wasn't going to be the one to enlighten her.
Ron, on the other, was.
"Mum, Harry and Ginny see each other practically every day, Harry's assigned security detail for the Harpies right now. You know, since all the weird attacks and things started."
Molly must not have known about Harry's assignment; he didn't think she could have convincingly manufactured the surprise that flashed across her face when she heard the news.
"Really now? Well, I have to say I feel much better knowing that you are the one protecting Ginny, Harry. And it's lovely that the two of you are able to spend some time together."
"Harry's busy working, mum. It's not like he can just drop everything and go out for a fly and chase Quaffles or anything. Or Bludgers, for that matter." Ginny was very carefully not looking at Harry when she spoke, but a blush climbed up her features anyway.
"Well, even so," Molly continued, "I'm sure there must be some opportunities for the two of you to see each other. You both have to eat at some point, don't you?" She turned back to Harry. "I'm sure part of the security detail involves you staying pretty close to the players, right? So you can make sure nothing happens? I'd feel so much better if I knew that you were the one waiting outside Ginny's changing room after every game, instead of some of those unsavory types that always seem to be hanging around. They have only one thing on their minds, I'm sure of it."
If she only knew, thought Harry.
He sighed to himself. Everyone was sure to make a much bigger deal of his work assignment than it really was. Well, at least bigger than anyone knew it was. His eyes moved involuntarily back to Ginny and he wordlessly begged her to intercede. She studiously ignored him, while she turned to her mum with a serious expression on her face.
"That's true mum. If Harry was able to patrol the changing rooms, I'm sure that nothing improper would be able to happen." She looked at Harry and raised her eyebrows. "Isn't that right, Harry?"
Ginny's face was the picture of innocence, but Harry could tell by the firm set of her lips that she was trying not to laugh.
Way to act natural, Ginny. In desperation he turned to Hermione.
"So, do you have any idea when you think you want to have the wedding?"
HPHPHPHPHP
Ginny watched as Harry squirmed beneath her mother's questions. She was rather enjoying herself, especially because she knew that Harry was completely confused. He'd arrived at the Burrow prepared for the two of them to be friendly and polite to each other, but not much else. It had seemed like the most reasonable plan, at the time. But some time during her walk from the edge of the Burrow's wards to the back door, Ginny realized that there was no way the two of them were going to be able to pull it off. Harry would try too hard, she would probably be on edge waiting for one of the twins to make some sexual innuendo, and they'd both be on the defensive before dinner was served.
And Gwenog always said, the best defense was good offense. Besides, it could be a lot of fun.
While Hermione launched into a longwinded discussion about the most rain free months in Southern England ("Because of course, we'd like an outdoor wedding, right Ron?"), Ginny watched as Harry tried to sidle out of the room.
Can't let that happen.
"Harry, you probably should listen to the planning too, as you are going to be best man," she smiled sweetly and looked at her brother. "Isn't that right, Ron?"
Ron, who had looked like he would have rather been sneaking out along with Harry, startled. "Oh, uh, right, Okay, mate?"
Harry chuckled. "I think the fact that I was the one keeping you from passing out while you actually bought the ring means that you have no choice but to pick me." He gave a sly look in the direction of Hermione. She was still prattling on happily to Molly and Katie and Angelina, the latter of whom had brought a number of Muggle and Wizarding wedding magazines to look through.
"Ron, fancy a game of chess?"
Ron gave Harry a relieved look and practically leapt out of his seat. Harry shot Ginny a triumphant smirk as he followed Ron into the sitting room.
Humpf. That's what he thinks.
Ginny followed them into the sitting room, where Fred and George were sitting together discussing inventory for their shop. They were bent low over a piece of parchment that was covered with moving figures that occasionally seemed to leap off the page and disappear in puffs of smoke. They barely looked up as the three entered the room.
Harry and Ron took seats on either side of the table and started setting up their men. Harry had a serious expression on his face; he had still never beaten Ron at a game and Ginny suspected he was counting on Ron's distraction with the engagement to make him careless. He looked up at Ginny and smiled. "Are you going to help me, Ginny?"
Ginny bit her lip, thinking. Did she dare?
Ginny smiled back, deciding to test the waters. "Maybe, if you're very lucky," she said, with more than a hint of suggestion in her voice.
It worked. Neither Fred nor George looked up from their work across the room, and Ron just mumbled vaguely, "no cheating, Gin," as he studied the board.
Ginny quickly turned around and waved her wand silently around her. She'd have to thank Leandra later for teaching her the charm.
Ron and Harry began their game, with Ron almost immediately capturing one of Harry's bishops and a couple pawns. He scowled down at the board, and Ginny stifled a laugh. Harry was not a competitive person, normally, but she knew he wanted to beat Ron just once. Unfortunately, he was about to be extremely distracted.
HPHPHPHPHP
Harry sighed and looked down at the chess board. He'd suggested playing both to get away from all of Hermione's wedding talk, and also because he hoped it would help him avoid trying to think about Ginny. Because she had definitely been licking her lips when she looked at him. And then, her voice when he'd asked her for help with the game! It had been undeniably sexy. What the hell he was supposed to do about it, Harry had no idea. They were at the Burrow, for Merlin's sake, and they were supposed to be acting natural!
She was still here, in the sitting room, watching them with an odd little half-smile on her face. Harry tried his hardest not to look at her, he had a vaguely nervous feeling that looking at Ginny right now would be a very bad idea.
Ron was peering down at the chess board, his brow furrowed so tightly in concentration that his eyes were nearly shut. Harry tried to follow his gaze, to focus on the little black and white pieces that were shaking their fists and yelling directions. But he couldn't completely obscure the reddish blur standing behind Ron, leaning casually against the back of the couch. Ginny was wearing a blue jumper and Harry kept his eyes focused on the dark material, willing himself not to raise his head enough to catch sight of Ginny's face, or worse, her lips.
The blue flickered. Creamy white and pink flashed across Harry's vision for the barest of seconds and then was gone.
"Whaaaa . . .th-the . . . huh?" The pawn he had been about to move forwards tumbled across the board, taking out a rook and a knight, and all of Harry's pieces glared at him.
"Sorry. Sorry about that," he mumbled, trying to right everything. Ron was too busy watching his queen to notice but Harry was certain he heard Ginny stifle a snigger.
Had he just seen what he thought he did?
He dared to look up at Ginny. Her face was a mask of innocence. Too innocent. She reminded Harry of Fred and George when they were waiting for you to bite into a sweet they had spiked.
"Are you okay there, Harry?" she asked.
"Fine," he muttered, turning back to the game. He wasn't going to let her bait him. He moved his rook and managed to capture one of Ron's pawns. Ron promptly turned around and captured Harry's rook; he belatedly realized it had been a trap. Sighing, Harry leaned back in his chair, threading his fingers behind his head. Looked like this game was going to go the same as all the others – badly.
Bloody hell! Ginny's breasts!
Ginny's breasts?"
The words screamed in Harry's head as loudly as if he'd yelled them out loud. But Ron was still calmly regarding his pieces and Fred and George were ignoring them in the corner.
Why had he just thought of Ginny's breasts? Harry looked up at Ginny again. She was watching him with concern and her breasts were nowhere in sight under the bulky jumper she wore. But he could have sworn he'd seen . . .
He took a deep breath. It was just the sex, he told himself. His body had gotten used to all the sex and now it was reacting to the fact that it wasn't going to get any this weekend. He just had to ignore it, and, if things got really bad, he'd go take a shower.
And Ginny was standing behind Ron grinning, with no shirt on.
Sweet Merlin!
Harry sucked in his breath so fast he choked, and had to bend, gasping and coughing, over the table. The commotion was finally enough to break Ron's concentration. He looked up, confused at why his best mate was suddenly acting as if he'd tried to swallow an entire dragon egg whole.
"Harry, you're never going to beat me if you don't pay better attention." He peered at Harry's face.
"Are you okay? Cause you look kind of flushed or something."
"M'okay," Harry managed to gasp. He gave Ginny the best glare he could while trying to keep his face away from her chest. He was fighting a losing battle. He knew it, and she knew it; Harry loved Ginny's breasts. They were soft and smooth and the perfect size for Harry's hand - or his mouth. And the dark nub in the center that wrinkled and hardened with the lightest pressure from his fingers or his tongue . . . Harry swallowed hard, shifting in his seat.
Ginny raised her eyebrows as if she knew exactly what Harry was thinking, and a second later her jumper popped back into existence.
Harry couldn't help but sigh. Because even though he half wanted to throttle Ginny for trying to arouse him in the middle of the bloody Burrow, the other half, the lower half of him, was totally turned on. He swallowed thickly and willed Ron to move faster. How long until this game ends anyway?
"I'd better go see if I can help mum in the kitchen," Ginny remarked lightly, moving towards the sitting room door. Harry didn't even try to look away this time and as he watched, Ginny smirked at him and blinked her eyes, and once again, Harry got a lovely, but unfortunately too fleeting, glimpse of her breasts. She smiled once more and then disappeared into the kitchen.
HPHPHPHPHPHP
Teasing Harry had been a lot of fun, Ginny thought to herself as she went to help her mother. She thought he was going to swallow his tongue, at once point, and the look of surprise on his face when he realized what she was doing was priceless. As were the subtle shifts and swipes he was making at his crotch when she left.
But there was an unintended consequence of watching Harry get worked up, Ginny realized. She was now aroused herself; her knickers were damp and her breasts tingled as if to complain about the fact that she'd made them show themselves off but was now denying them any reward. Leaving the sitting room for the kitchen was as much to try to get her own randiness under control as it was genuine concern for Harry's.
Of course, subjecting herself to uninterrupted time alone with her mum had its own consequences, and Ginny mentally prepared herself to answer a lot of questions about just how often she and Harry happened to run into each other at work.
Fortunately, Hermione, Katie and Angelina were still pouring over bridal magazines at the kitchen table, sparing Ginny her mother's undivided attention. That didn't stop her, however, from looking up as Ginny walked in the room and asking, much too casually, if she didn't think the boys in the sitting room might like a snack, and would Ginny like to make one for them?
"We're eating dinner in ten minutes, mum? Aren't we?" Ginny replied patiently. "I think Harry can wait. Ron, I'm not so sure about."
"Well then," said her mum, "you would know best what Harry needs, right?" She spoke distractedly, still looking down at a page of Wizard wedding robes, but Ginny wasn't fooled for an instant.
"Not anymore, mum, we broke up almost a year ago, remember?"
Molly dropped all pretense and looked up at Ginny with the expression she usually reserved for questioning the twins about things like why their father's hair was suddenly bright blue. "I remember, dear. Do you?"
Her mother didn't wait for an answer, but dropped her gaze back down to the magazine. "I like the one with the gold trim, don't you, Hermione?"
Ginny froze in place. Damn, her mother was good. Less than an hour at home and she already suspected something. It was all well and good to have her fun teasing Harry, but that didn't mean she wanted the entire family watching. And jumping to the wrong conclusions. Better ease up a bit.
Arthur picked that moment to wander into the kitchen seeking dinner, and Bill and Fluer arrived moments later, Fleur's heavily pregnant stomach seeming to enter the room well before she did. Ginny relaxed and let the regular Weasley energy surround her; if there was anything that could divert her family's suspicions, it was the general mayhem that ensued whenever they all got together.
She had warned Harry yesterday that he was not, under any circumstances, to sit next to her at dinner. He had promised to maintain a distance of at least three chairs from her, and she suddenly hoped her little display earlier hadn't distracted him so much that he couldn't remember her instructions.
But when Harry and Ron appeared from the living room, he barely gave her a glance before sliding into a seat across the table, but one down, from her. He and Ron were heavily into a discussion about Quidditch and how a team's strategizing was similar to deploying strategy during a chess match. It was a discussion they had every time Harry lost, and now he was vehemently disagreeing with Ron.
"They really aren't a thing alike, mate. The team structure of Quidditch means that you have to rely on the collective group, not a single player. Plus, it's much more physical."
"Yeah," Fred broke in. "And besides, if chess was anything at all like Quidditch, Harry here might actually win a game once in a while."
Harry charmed his napkin to go flying at Fred's head like a dart, and Fred ducked just in time for the napkin to settle itself neatly across Fleur's stomach.
"Zank you, Harry," said Fleur sweetly, lowering herself into a chair.
Ginny glanced at Harry again as the platters of food began lazily rotating through the air so that everyone could take their share. He was intent on selecting a piece of chicken and did not look up at her.
Well, good. I'm glad he paid attention to me yesterday.
Although . . . he could at least look at me. Let me know he enjoyed my little display or something. Ginny knew she should probably be ashamed of herself for having such a thought, but she couldn't help it. She had bared her naked chest to Harry – within plain sight of three of her older brothers – and for all he seemed affected, she may as well been showing him samples of Hermione's bridesmaid dresses. It was quite disconcerting, watching him calmly cutting up his potatoes and discussing the Muggle post system with her father.
Ginny huffed to herself and very deliberately did not join in the conversation. Instead, she turned to Fleur and Bill and peppered them with questions about the baby. She refused to even turn her head when she heard a fork clatter to the floor from somewhere in Harry's vicinity and only vaguely registered his chair scraping back as he bent down to get it.
So she was completely unprepared for the rustling of fabric around her middle and the sudden rush of cool air flooding the area between her legs.
What the hell? Ginny squeaked in surprise and felt her face heat as she realized what Harry had done while he was under the table.
And actually, he still was under the table, muttering about not being able to find his fork, and where had it gotten to? And all the time, one of his hands was gently stroking up the inside of her thigh. Which was suddenly covered with only a rather short skirt, instead of her trousers.
And what had he done with her knickers?
Most of the family looked at Ginny when she squeaked and it took all her willpower to rearrange her features into a calm mask again.
"Sorry," she said with as much nonchalance as she could muster. "I accidentally stabbed myself with my fork."
Fred and George, masters of the good excuse, looked down at her rather disdainfully. They'd taught her better than that, for sure. Then again, Ginny thought, their lessons in getting away with mayhem had certainly never covered the topic of how to act natural when your ex-boyfriend suddenly banishes half your clothes whilst both of you are sitting at dinner with your entire family.
Harry's head reappeared from under the table then; he clutched the errant fork triumphantly in his fist and flashed Ginny a cocky grin before turning his attentions back to Ron to continue their discussion.
Ginny had no idea what kind of charm he had set under the table, but every minute or so she felt another puff of cool air between her legs. It should probably have chilled her, but of course was having the exact opposite effect instead, and the shivers that kept coursing through her had nothing at all to do with being cold.
Harry still wasn't looking her way, but every so often Ginny saw the hint of a smirk flit across his face. He shifted subtly in his seat while reaching across the table for another roll and Ginny realized that his casual demeanor was taking a lot more effort than he let on. She smiled to herself and pushed her chair back.
"Going to the loo," she said, walking carefully around the table and waiting for someone to mention . . .
"Ginny, weren't you wearing trousers earlier?"
Thanks, Hermione.
"Yes, but since I wear pants pretty much all the time at work, I thought a skirt would be a nice change of pace." Ginny stopped to the side of Harry's chair and shook her hips just slightly. "It's nice, isn't it?" she asked the room at large.
Harry shifted in his seat again. As Ron stabbed the last strawberry off the platter in front of him, Ginny leaned over into the space between his chair and Harry's and plucked it off the end of his fork. She gave her brother's mutinous expression a cheeky grin in response, turning her body so that she faced Ron almost straight on.
Which meant, of course, that her arse was just inches from Harry.
Ginny bent over just a bit to peer into Ron's face as she slowly popped the strawberry in her mouth, taking care to make sure her bare leg pressed into the side of Harry's thigh. As she straightened back up, grinning at her brother, she brushed her hand across Harry's shoulder, as if she was trying to get her balance. He stiffed under her hand and she saw him swallow hard.
Heh. Banish my knickers, will you.
Her ministrations completed, Ginny turned and walked up the stairs to the loo. By the time she had rounded the corner and was out of sight of the kitchen, her hand was already between her legs, rubbing furiously.
She was almost to the bathroom when she realized she had left her wand downstairs.
I'll have to do this without any locking or silencing charms, damn.
Ginny hurried herself along, and was just getting into a rhythm when there was a sharp rap at the door.
"Ginny?" Oi. Harry. "Ginny, I really need to get in there, now."
I'll bet you do.
"Just a second, Harry," Ginny called. "I'm not . . . finished yet."
"Please, Ginny," Harry was begging. "I'm . . . I'm not feeling so well. Something I ate isn't agreeing with me. I . . . I think I'm going to be sick."
He sounded really terrible, and Ginny hastily pulled down her skirt and yanked open the door, stepping out quickly to give Harry room to walk by her.
He practically leapt past her into the loo, a look of grim determination on his face, but as he turned to close the door, he suddenly smirked back at her and raised his eyebrows. "Thanks, Gin. I definitely needed this more than you do."
Arghhh! Ginny smacked her forehead against the bathroom door in frustration. She couldn't believe she'd fallen for that. And Harry had his wand, which meant he could lock the door quite completely while he relieved himself.
Ginny considered just going into her room and finishing up herself, but she still didn't have her wand and she wouldn't put it past Harry to interrupt her there, too, once he finished his own wank.
Damn.
Help, in the form of 38-week-pregnant Fleur, appeared, huffing at the top of the stairs.
"'Arry, he eez een there?" She asked, pointing her wand at the door to the loo.
"Yes," said Ginny, "but I'm sure if he knew you were out here and needed to get in, he'd come right out." Just in case Fleur missed the point, Ginny added meaningfully, "I don't think he's actually using the loo."
"Ahhh," said Fleur, nodding, "la masturbation. 'E needs to find une jeune fille, non?"
"No," said Ginny swiftly. "He just needs to stop wanking in the loo."
Fleur gave Ginny a knowing look and raised her wand. Sparks shot out and the door to the loo shuddered.
"'Arry! I need to get in there! La bebe eez pressing on my insides!" Fleur shot more sparks at the door and a second later, Harry jerked it open, his eyes wild.
"Thank you, 'Arry," said Fleur, breezing past him into the bathroom. Ginny could not suppress her giggles. Harry's shirt was only partially tucked into his pants and a bit was showing through his half-unzipped fly. From the look on his face, Ginny guessed that he'd been close when the door had almost come crashing in on him.
He looked desperately at Ginny, his body vibrating with tension. He glanced towards her bedroom "door and then back at her. He licked his lips. "D'you want to . . ." he trailed off.
Yes.
"I need to get downstairs to help my mum with pudding," said Ginny thickly. She turned away so Harry wouldn't see her lick her own lips, but she doubted he could miss the way her body shuddered as his arm brushed hers.
"Pudding. Right," said Harry. He was still standing in front of the loo door, looking kind of lost.
"Oh, and Harry?" said Ginny as she moved towards the top of the staircase. He looked up hopefully.
"Yes?"
"Before you come down, you may want to check your zip."
"I'm already down," she heard him mutter dejectedly as he turned to follow her back to the kitchen.
A/N: You heard it here first (and if I say it, I have to do it): My Christmas gift to all of you is to have all of In Case of Emergency and Firsts reposted by New Years. I also have a couple more one-shots in the works along with Charming Ginny, but I'm going to really try to get the old stuff up first.