Six full months had passed, and Harry still felt like the new kid. Not that he'd had that many friends at his former school, but he did have his nice spots that he preferred and a decent team to go through decent training sessions and matches with. It was mostly alright, really.
And even though Ron was brilliant and Harry was delighted to notice straight on that they shared a sense of humour, and even though Hermione easily slipped into the role of big sister Harry never had - somehow, he thought, something was still missing. It was a feeling he couldn't shake off.
New friends from a new school in a new city he'd never even visited before, it was probably too much new in too short a time for a sixteen year old, Mum had told him as Dad patted Harry on the back and flashed him the infectious grin that had always put him at ease before.
Only that oddly wasn't it, and the feeling amplified tenfold whenever he hung out with Ron and Hermione after school, a flash of long red hair passing by them now and then with a "Hi, Harry!" and a dash of wit that curiously sent him into a spiral of mushy, confused thoughts. A moment of her presence and Harry went home feeling as though his limbs were suddenly longer, like he didn't really need arms and hands because obviously he had nowhere to place them without looking utterly strange.
"Little sisters, right?" Ron would usually say and roll his eyes excessively.
"Yeah," Harry would half-heartedly agree, something violently lurching in his chest at the same time. He couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly, only that he'd never experienced it before, this raging roar inside him, this sudden headache and awkwardness and urgent need to hide away under his own bed for all eternity.
But now, at Ron's birthday party, in Ron's home, Harry sadly had to accept the jarring truth that perhaps there was nowhere to hide. There were so many Weasleys and simply not enough space to slip away unnoticed, Harry observed with a dejected sigh.
"You can always disappear in the bushes behind the tool shed," he heard her say slyly before brushing past him and somewhere up the many flights of stairs the spiralled from the belly of The Burrow.
Instantaneously, it became too hot and Harry forgot how to swallow.
"Alright, mate?" Ron grinned, smacking Harry on the back and out of his revery, looking far too jolly.
Then Hermione followed, attached to Ron's hand and everything clicked.
Good, Harry thought. It was quite obvious they fancied each other, heated arguments and banter and all that. He gave them an approving nod and swiftly escaped to the kitchen, afraid they might snog next to him.
But there was no escaping, Harry realised, as Lavender and Parvati marched right after him, repeatedly chanting 'spin the bottle', a harassed looking Neville in their wake, his wrist gripped in a tight lock by Lavender's hand.
Neville gave Harry an apologetic shrug and Harry returned it, as if to say 'mad, eh?' Ultimately, he allowed the two girls to shepherd him and the rest of the party up the stairs to Ron's room, where they speedly produced a glass bottle and placed it in the very centre of the room.
"What's a birthday party without a kissing game?" Lavender rhetorically asked, her tone filled with glee as she scanned the party as though she was weighing her matchmaking prospects.
"Less of a disaster," Harry heard someone mutter from behind him.
Her shoulder brushed against his as Ginny strode across the room to take a seat exactly in front of Harry and he could swear she winked as she did so. He wasn't really aware she was actually part of the party but somehow suddenly the game seemed like less of a terrible idea.
As the birthday boy, Ron got to spin the bottle first, grin faltering immediately when it didn't stop in front of Hermione. And as the birthday boy, he was granted an additional spin and Harry was ready to swear his wrist barely twitched, the bottle moving ridiculously little and stopping short just in front of her. Hermione blushed, but met him halfway across the room, where Ron waited with a pleased smile plastered to his face.
Harry very much hoped he himself would never look like that if it would ever be his turn to spin the bottle.
Then Lavender kissed Seamus and Parvati kissed Dean and Hermione would've kissed him too if Ron hadn't accused the carpet of tampering with the bottle's trajectory; fortunately, the bottle stopped in front of him the second time Hermione spinned and all minor teenage drama was averted.
But then Neville kissed Ginny - an innocent peck on the lips, really, and still Harry hoped beyond hope that Ron had had the sense to decree it was time for cake before their mouths touched and that raging, deafening roar reverberated from Harry's chest again. Why exactly, Harry couldn't tell, but he was very close to being absolutely certain a monster had built itself a nest inside him.
It was Ginny's turn to spin the bottle despite Ron's protests of not having invited her to play along but she simply ignored her brother and Harry felt his heart strum faster. Without really intending it to, his brain started chanting 'I hope it's me, I hope it's me, I really, really hope it will be me.' He tried to pay it no mind.
The glass bottle revolved in the centre of the room quickly, shuddering as it picked up speed. It went around in wide circles until it eventually slowed down, its mouth nearly stopping in front of everyone present until it finally did - in front of Harry. He realised he'd been holding his breath.
Ginny gave him a dazzling smile and perhaps she waited for Harry to do something; so Harry gave her a curt nod.
Aware he might have looked like a fool, frozen on his spot as he was in the middle of a kissing game, Harry finally got a good enough grasp on his wits to put his limbs into motion and start crawling across the room to what seemed like a million miles away, where Ginny was waiting for him, palms on her knees and a blazing look about her face that knocked all air out of him. The chest monster roared in what seemed like triumph.
His bruised knees touched the freckles on hers and Harry drew a long breath in and closed his eyes, ready to lean in or risk dying of embarrassment. In a heartbeat, her lips were on his and a violent shudder coursed through his body, colours bursting at the back of his eyelids as she relaxed against his mouth and he could feel as their lips glided briefly against each other.
But then Ron loudly cleared his throat and the brilliant moment came to an end.
Harry crawled back to his place in the circle feeling rather lightheaded, eyes blinking fast behind round glasses.
"Your turn, Harry," Ginny quipped and he registered with a twinge of delight that her cheeks were a little flushed, that she herself appeared to be a bit dizzy too.
"Oh, right," he nodded and coughed a bit into his fist, hoping to clear all remains of awkwardness.
Which all swiftly came rushing back smack into him when the traitorous bottle unexpectedly stopped to a halt in front of Ginny, to a chorus of excited oohs and aahs erupting from Parvati and Lavender.
"You know what this means, right?" Lavender giggled and she looked highly pleased, her eyes glinting with mirth as she scanned Harry from head to toe.
Harry did not know at all what that meant but he supposed Ginny did: she was biting her lip, a tinge of pink spreading across her neck, up to her cheeks before she shook it off and grinned widely at Harry.
"If the bottle chooses the same people twice, it's time for Seven minutes in heaven!" Parvati clapped her hands and Harry vaguely registered the sound of a glass shattering in the background. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dean with half a glass in his fist and faintly Harry recalled Ron telling him he's glad Ginny broke up with Dean.
"Come on, don't just stand there," Lavender excitedly pushed him to his feet, much to Harry's annoyance, as Parvati rushed to do the same to Ginny.
Privately, Harry did find it odd that his two classmates were more excited at the prospect of him and Ginny being locked for seven minutes inside Ron's dresser, but then again when has he become such an expert at understanding his own feelings?
He allowed her to step inside the small annex first and, with a shy smile, Harry closed the door behind them, pretending not to hear Ron's indignant shouts and critique of 'such a foolish, stupid rule' he'd never heard of before or the sound of the door slamming shut as, Harry supposed, Dean stormed out.
"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to," Harry hurried to say as his eyes dropped on her, her back against a shelf and her freckled face dipped a little to the side - but she just smiled at him, giving Harry the distinct impression he was acting more like a little boy and less like his actual age.
"Why wouldn't I want to?" Ginny quirked an eyebrow at him, the expression on her face bemused.
Harry found he had no good answer.
"Six minutes," Ron's voice announced from the other side of the door and Harry swallowed hard.
"Let's not waste more time, then."
He rather felt the words roll down his tongue, unaware he'd even opened his mouth. But the look on her face wiped his panicky thoughts in an instant and soon there was no distance left between them, her deep brown eyes locking with his as she raised on her tiptoes to reach him. He felt an intoxicating flowery scent and Harry's mind stopped functioning, the monster inside his chest purring so incredibly loud he was afraid she might hear it.
Harry slanted his mouth over hers, easily at first and then with a desperation he didn't know he possessed, the smell of wildflowers taking hold of his brain and commanding it to do things Harry'd never done before: he placed a hand at the small of her back as the other wound through her long red hair, almost gripping when he felt Ginny deepen the kiss and walk him back till he hit the wall.
His heart strummed wildly as her tongue easily slipped into his mouth and Harry kissed her back as enthusiastically as she was kissing him, teeth sinking into lips, mouths glued to each other in a frenzy of groans and sighs and hands gripping at hair in a way that resembled near hopelessness, near despair.
Suddenly, Harry switched their places and it was him who was towering over her, one palm flush against the wall as her mouth traveled down to his neck to suck and kiss and turn Harry's knees to butter. He felt like melting into her.
"Ginny," he groaned once her hands pressed to his chest and roamed there, pulling him by his shirt even closer to her, so intoxicatingly close Harry let his eyelids fly shut and his head roll back to give her better access. He felt like he would soon burst from the sheer pleasure of it, from the delightful madness of having her mouth on his and feeling her body press harder into him.
His knees were about to give in and take them both tumbling to the ground when the door flew open and a fuming Ron appeared, Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati unsuccessfully tugging him back by the hem of his shirt.
"Time's up, Potter," Ron growled and Harry jumped as far away from Ginny as he could, his chest heaving rapidly, heat enveloping his face with such force Harry thought his body might've caught fire.
"He thinks he can just interrupt people if it's his birthday," Ginny spat indignantly, her breathing just as erratic as Harry suspected his was. A strand of hair was plastered to her cheek, creating an even deeper tinge of red spreading over her face, a heavy pout and an irritated glare about her as she looked at her brother, daring him to say more.
Harry took advantage of the impromptu family feud to readjust himself, his glasses, and try as much as he could to tame his hair so that it didn't right away scream 'heavy snogging in the dresser.' He thought he owed as much to Ron, at least on his birthday.
Ginny was the first to exit with a pointed huff as she passed her brother, chin held up high. Harry followed her with a faltering grin, feeling the weight of Ron's frown glued to the back of his rumpled head.
He awkwardly sat back down on the floor and was ready to dismiss everything as the natural result of a teenage party and subsequent kissing game, when Ginny deposited herself right next to him. Harry looked at her inquiringly but she just smiled and placed her hand close to his, the tips of their fingers nearly touching and, oh, how much he wanted them to touch, to take her small hand in his. The chest monster roared again.
Harry cleared his throat, wondering if he should propose they talk or if it was all in his head, this ridiculous idea that she might be fancying him as he was her. Because, yes, that was it, that was exactly it: he fancied Ginny!
He fancied Ginny with her sharp wit and her blazing look and her freckles in clusters splattered over her face. He fancied her and finally, finally what had been missing for so long seemed to fall into place.
Harry felt like a giant weight had been lifted from his chest, like his muddled mind had cleared at last. He felt like all he needed to do was reach out his hand and effortlessly he might lift from the ground and fly.
"Eugh, what are you grinning at?" Ron muttered from across the room, eyeing Harry suspiciously.
He hadn't even realised he'd been grinning stupidly but it made sense.
"Sorry, mate," Harry flashed Ron a winning smile and quickly turned to Ginny. "Should we?" He gestured for the door and she happily got up, flipping her long hair back and meeting Harry with a brilliant grin that lit up her features so beautifully his heart leaped.
"I know a place where we can talk in private," Ginny winked and Harry instantly knew where they'd be going.
It was the first time he'd ever looked forward to sitting hidden in some bushes behind an old, dusty tool shed, but right then it seemed like the most comfortable place to talk and talk and talk until their mouths would tire and their lips would become marvellously swollen.