Second base: hands travel below the belt and refuse to stop there.
First time they stumbled upon the unsteady grounds of second base, they were inside one of the more deserted Hogwarts corridors. They had agreed to trudge up to the library together, Harry offering to help Ginny revise for her fast and coming OWL examinations. Or just bask in her presence, really.
"And it was easier than I thought it would be, we just had to -"
But he paused mid-sentence, noticing that he'd been actually walking alone, sadly offering his generous exam insights and tips to no one in particular.
Because apparently, Ginny had stopped somewhere along the corridor and was staring intently at the entrance to an unused annex of the castle wing. Harry could almost see the mischief and trouble-making forming roots and growing at a rather alarming rate inside her beautiful mind.
And yet, he felt ready to jump right in with her, whatever the consequences. Like magic, she had that effect on him, Ginny.
"I don't quite fancy studying right now," she softly said, turning her head slowly to look at Harry with two deep brown eyes. He felt suddenly out of breath.
Harry walked back to her and gently squeezed her hand, heart leaping somewhere up, up to his throat to rattle there fiercely.
"I know," Harry started, summoning the rational, Molly Weasley-fearing part of him, "but Hermione might do me in if she found out I'm keeping you away from your revision timetable." He gave her a weak chuckle, brushed a stray ginger lock from her cheek.
Ginny just rolled her eyes as if to say 'rubbish' and tightly grabbed onto his wrist. Timetables and OWLs were as far away from her mind as they were from his.
"Come on," she said and dragged him past the dim-lit entrance.
"What exactly are you doing?" Harry asked amused, but followed her eagerly. In truth, whatever it was, he wanted it.
"Homework," Ginny shrugged innocently. "McGonagall was going on and on today about how vital it is for one to possess great knowledge of human anatomy should one want to excel in Transfiguration," she went on, a small kind of smile tugging at her lips as she narrowed the distance between them, between their mouths. "And, incidentally, I happen to plan on excelling."
Ginny whispered the last couple of words against his lips, confidence visibly flooding through her all of a sudden and any conflicting thoughts left Harry's brain at a remarkable speed, replaced violently by strong, wild emotions; simmering at the surface of it all, Harry felt an undeniable impulse to kiss that small, smart mouth of hers over and over again until her lips were swollen, until he himself could speak no more.
And so he did, a tad more experienced than two weeks before, when they had shared their first proper snog under the willow tree, cosily settled by the lake. Time stood still back then, as it did now, a bubble of excitement, of content and a brilliant thrill, a very taste of life.
Lips pressed together, gliding up and down against each other, his hands travelling to rest on the small of her back, and hers in his messy dark hair. Harry pulled her closer up against his heaving chest.
The distant part of his brain that was still working told him it must be a great idea, a wise move, so Harry dipped his head and, rather timidly, he planted three short kisses on her jaw and another shy one on the side of her neck.
Almost immediately, he found himself pinned to the wall and mentally hi-fived his own self for trying at least one of the things he'd secretly dreamed of doing to her.
Emboldened by his brave attempts, Ginny gloriously drew her lips closer to the sensitive skin of his neck and let out a hot breath of air before she leaned in to lightly suck on that particular sweet spot. And how good it was, how brilliant it felt, and Harry concentrated hard, shutting his lips tight, afraid that any sound might ruin it all.
Ginny tasted the skin there with her tongue, and it was all it took for Harry to spin her round and press her against the wall. Adrenaline rushed through him, clouding his mind, muddling his thoughts.
"Impressive," Ginny smirked and the smugness etched in the curl of her smile unleashed something very new inside him; the old creature in his chest roared loudly and Harry knew he needed more of her.
Mouth clashing against mouth, he felt intoxicated by her and could no longer stop his hands in their enthusiastic quest to discover her body, to map it till all the little details are tattooed inside his brain - and nor did he want to.
Harry supposed he'd feel guilty towards Ron later, when there would be time for that and no one tugging impatiently at the hem of his robes...
He was about to venture as far as to try and graze her earlobe with his teeth, as he had very secretly seen Bill do to Fleur that previous summer, when he had the misfortune to stagger inside a shadowy Burrow sitting room - but, rather inexplicably, something stopped him. It was a sensation akin to bliss and confusion all wrapped into one and Harry simultaneously felt like he might suddenly float out a window or melt into a puddle at her feet.
"I, er - sorry," Ginny spluttered, leaping one step back, her features catching fire as her eyes grew wide. "I - ah, I really didn't mean to," she stammered on, apologetic and frantic and very, very flustered.
Harry blinked at her before it finally clicked, a definition for the wonderful feeling he'd experienced for the smallest of moments faintly taking shape inside his mind: it had actually been her hand brushing the bulge that continued to form uninvited in his trousers, underneath his robe.
"Oh," Harry stupidly replied and immediately blushed just as furiously as Ginny had. Never in his life had he felt another hand wander so far and the sheer thought left him trembling.
Harry truly wanted to say that it was alright, no problem, I've been waiting for this all my life, I'm ready and let's just continue, shall we? But annoyingly familiar voices echoed from somewhere along the main corridor and quickly made him curse and reconsider.
"And then he said – oh! Oh, sorry," Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil stopped to a halt and looked towards a very embarrassed Harry and Ginny, still quite incriminatingly close to each other.
Harry felt the tips of his ears ripple through various shades of red as Ginny appeared to focus on actually looking offended to be so rudely interrupted rather than mortified.
Do those two ever walk alone? Do they always have to go round the castle in a pack? And do they have to be here, of all places?
Harry glowered at them, but said nothing. It was really Ginny who recovered first and had enough sense to throw back a witty remark that should've had Lavender and Parvati turning straight on their heels and striding right back - if, of course, the love for gossip didn't trump sense more often than not.
Toning down her dignified pout, Ginny took his hand and marched them both past the two girls and didn't stop until their shrill fit of giggles faded away.
"Too bad they walked in on us," Ginny shrugged, all bravery and nonchalance.
Harry's eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. He was tempted to ask what would have happened if they hadn't, but a pesky little voice that sounded irritatingly like Hermione's screamed at him to stuff it and let Ginny study.
As much as we didn't want to, Harry had to agree: OWLs were getting closer by the day and it was more important for her to focus than to cavort with him all round Hogwarts. After all, Mrs Weasley would never forgive him if he single-handedly sabotaged her only daughter's academic records and subsequent career chances.
"Let's get you into the library, yeah?" Harry said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to very gallantly shepherd her up the stairs.
Ginny scowled.
"Buzz killer," she pouted and stuck out her tongue at him.
Harry thought she looked impossibly cute and he simply had to lean down and kiss her freckled cheek, chaste and short and light years away from what the burning sensation in his stomach would've made him do.
Harry was proud to say that the rest of the day was properly spent inside the library, under the direct supervision and sharp nose of Madam Pince.
Second time they got close to second base, it was Harry who got carried away.
They both had a short period on Fridays and they both made a point to take advantage of it. So they tossed their robes away and changed into a more comfortable attire, walking out into the grounds to catch a bit of sun after classes. Alone, undisturbed, safely hidden from the rest of the world.
They sat down by the tree that had quickly become their spot. She was wearing a skirt that day and Harry was pleasantly surprised to notice how her freckles weaved up her body, covering not only her face, but also her legs.
His eyes darted up, lingering briefly over the trail of freckles that climbed all the way up her thighs and disappeared underneath the thin fabric of her skirt. The thought of where those splatters and clusters went efficiently erased all else from his mind.
The thought refused to leave his mind even as they engaged into one of their well practiced snogging sessions. Against Harry's will, the pestering thing seemed to take control of his hand, for he suddenly surprised himself feeling dainty skin beneath his fingers. His heart spun around in its cage viciously.
Harry searched for Ginny's gaze; he needed to make sure it would be alright to dare.
Ginny quickly looked over her shoulder to check if they were indeed alone and then she nodded. Harry had the distinct feeling that he'd been struck over the head, he couldn't quite believe it.
Slowly, holding his breath, Harry brushed the shivering tips of fingers up and up, stopping only at the barrier created by the cotton of her knickers.
Ginny bit her lower lip and, trembling slightly, leant back to rest on her elbows, eyes half-shut, studying him from beneath her eyelids. If he hadn't been so frozen with fear, so overwhelmed by the newness of it, Harry felt it would've been enough to set him ablaze and stumbling over her to kiss and touch everything at once.
It was both amusing and arousing, sitting together like that, his hand bunched up under her skirt, their cheeks flushing with emotion, chests heaving. They stared intently at each other for a heart beat and understood they both felt the same way, they both wanted the same thing.
"Oh."
Ginny gasped as his fingers touched her through her knickers. It was a gentle, fearful touch, but it made her senses explode nonetheless. It was electrifying.
He tried the same motion again. And again. And again, until she was chewing on her lip and clawing at the ground beneath her. How he made her feel, ah - it was impossible to hold still.
Harry saw her part her legs further and shifted so he would be closer. With one hand supporting her back, he lightly traced the piece of skin at the barrier between cotton and leg, making her draw in another shaky, shuddering breath.
With great care, Harry pushed one finger under the fabric and sensed the heat and small curls resting inside; it made her bury her forehead fiercely into his chest and hold on tighter to the grass she'd gathered in her fist. God, yes.
And then her nerves went instantly numb when he went on to lightly feel her centre. Louder than she would've ever intended, Ginny moaned.
"Gin," Harry hissed into her ear, his voice huskier than she heard it before, panting somewhat erratically. "I don't think I can go on much longer."
Woefully, Harry removed his hand from underneath her skirt.
"It's alright," Ginny breathed, when all she really wanted to say was no, don't stop, go on, please.
But she could also understand very well what he meant. Shifting, Ginny kissed him tenderly, hand trailing up from the torn grass to caress his pink flushed cheek.
Then she smoothed her clothes and squeezed his hand as if to tell him don't worry, it had been incredible. He stroked her back in response. They were getting there, slowly moving to a place where they were comfortable in each other's presence, where they could completely relax and let everything else go. The road was thrilling and a sweet kind of torture all wrapped into one.
Third time it happened, Harry had been thinking about his next session with Dumbledore, angsting and brooding all throughout the day. The thought was obsessive and the lack of response all the more infuriating.
When was he going to send for him again? What were they going to do? What if something went terribly wrong?
Uh, so many bloody questions and thoughts revolving round his head. He felt anxious, tense, and, try as he might, sleep refused to come. So he dug out his Map and Cloak from his trunk, you know, just in case, and went to the Common Room to search for the little dots marked Malfoy and Snape, glower over them and see what they were up to.
However, though, he was surprised to find another sleepless Gryffindor curled up in the armchair by the fire.
"Couldn't sleep?" Ginny asked, immediately becoming aware of his presence. Her eyelids fluttered open, body shifting to face him.
"Nah, not much. You?"
"Nope," Ginny shrugged and sighed, absent-mindedly massaging her temples.
So Harry went to sit by her, playfully patting her head, a smile of endearment on his lips as he watched her scowl. But Ginny lightly smacked his hand away and easily slipped onto his lap.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, amused, but shifted so she could sit better.
"Making myself comfortable, of course. As you interfered with my attempt at a bit of kip sans Romilda's snores, I do believe I'm entitled to this," she casually replied as she snuggled against his chest, rested her head against the crook of his neck. "And you are a better bed than the old one in the dorm," she went on, supplying her arguments with small kisses on the side of his neck.
He could see the contours of her breasts perked against his chest and his imagination instantly went wild.
Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to have an impromptu rendezvous when they were clad only in their pajamas.
Or perhaps it was the perfect one, Harry thought as a warm wave rushed over him, starting from his stomach and rolling up his chest, leaving his flesh searing in its wake.
As always when it came to her, there were two very conflicting thoughts battling inside of him: one that told him to take it slow, to play the gentleman and another different one that begged him not to listen.
Lately, the second one had started growing louder and louder, Harry noticed.
Their snogging session quickly heated up, following the path they had already learned by heart: mouth against mouth, small bites, parting of lips, tips of their tongues, the familiar taste that washed over them every time. It was like fire glowing hot inside of them.
Harry felt her nipples harden through her nightdress and groaned, moving his hand to slowly trace the side of one small breast. He pleasantly found that it was soft, yet full, and he added a bit of pressure to his touch. Ginny happily responded by biting his earlobe and sneaking her hand inside his shirt, mapping his skin, his chest, the muscles hiding there. Eyes glued to her, he watched her hungrily, wildly, as she did so, silently hoping for more.
Harry caressed her breasts through the fabric, pressing a shivering thumb against one nipple. He twisted it between his index finger and thumb and immediately hardened as he heard Ginny's response, the moan breathed inside his ear.
Just like that, all his sense evaporated. They started tugging at each other's clothes furiously, thoroughly forgetting about their very public whereabouts. Godric Gryffindor himself could've walked out of the fireplace for all they cared.
Bravely, Harry tilted the collar of her night dress enough to unveil a creamy, freckled breast. He closed his eyes to steady himself and bent his head until his lips parted around her pink, perked nipple. Her hands grabbed at his hair and pushed his head further against her chest and he could feel her squirm as his tongue darted over her breast, lips sucking at it lightly.
Harry switched to the other one, and Ginny shut her eyes tightly. He felt as her fingers wound into his hair, demanding more, pleading for more, holding him close to her chest.
Harry felt her small hand tightly grab hold of his own and for a mad, vicious moment he feared he'd done something wrong.
He studied her face and found a picture that would forever be burned into his mind, stuck on replay to drive him insane, to send endlessly send him into overdrive.
Sprawled on his lap, with tangled hair and biting down her lower lip, Ginny had her nightdress falling down one shoulder, one perked up breast blooming up from it. Vaguely, he thought she was the epitome of beauty.
He felt his palm being guided underneath her gown and that instantly snapped him out of his revery. Although he now knew what this meant as they had been there before recently, testing the waters, Harry's heart thumped faster and faster, shooting him up towards a dizzying high.
Finally, sheer impulse took over from reason.
"You rather started something the other day and I thought," she drew in a breath before she could say, "I thought that maybe you'd like to finish."
Her eyes were now avoiding his, a flush of red climbing up her chest, up her freckled cheeks to settle there.
A little fumbling, a little shy, Harry dipped a finger under her chin to turn her face back towards him. His Ginny was not easily embarrassed, so he could tell by this alone how difficult it may have been for her to voice her thoughts.
Because of course he had been thinking about it too, dreaming about it day and night, where his actions went quite far, where he didn't suddenly, embarrassingly stop. In his dreams, he could go on until she screamed, until she moaned his name again and again. In his dreams, he pleased her in all the ways she asked him to.
But in reality, Harry had actually fallen into a habit of waiting an additional ten minutes before getting out of bed, to be absolutely positive he had erased all inappropriate thoughts of Ginny before walking into her older brother and also, ironically, his best mate. To Harry, dreams were better than reality.
"Harry, please," she said and tugged faintly at his hand.
What if reality could finally be better?
So he took a leap of faith, slipping a finger inside her knickers a bit more confidently, breath hitched as she grabbed onto his shoulders, gripping at his skin to steady herself.
Ginny drew in a shuddering breath as his touch slowly moved to cover her, one calloused tip of his finger carefully, clumsily parting her.
"Is it – er – is it alright?" he mumbled, brow furrowed as his green eyes followed her, hoping that he wouldn't hurt her, that he wouldn't make a blunder out of it.
"Oh, yes, it absolutely is, don't stop," she gloriously moaned against the crook of his neck.
Encouraged, Harry slid his finger a little bit more inside of her, brushing briefly against her clit. His instincts told him to be gentle and to lightly twiddle his finger around it. Slowly. Easily.
So torturously slow that Ginny moved her palm up unto his and pressed his hand harder against her. He mirrored her and pressed again, this time making her pant a little louder. With his index finger he drew out and then in, repeating the motion until she couldn't keep quiet anymore, until his name tumbled down her tongue in such a way - ah, Harry nearly came undone beneath her.
He felt something wet and hot spill over his fingers and instantly his feet turned to butter, his entire body shivering with unexpected joy, with a kind of roaring pride. It was him that did it, it was his name that she moaned.
But to his great surprise, her palm came to rest lowly on his abdomen and Ginny looked as though she was attempting to gather all her courage and pour it into her next action. She dragged her fingers a couple of times over the exposed skin above his trousers and then, screwing her face into what Harry thought was an expression of pure, beautiful determination, she slid it further inside his trunks.
It was Harry's turn to gasp, to groan and grab onto her body, small and nestled on his lap, legs dangling down between his, twiddling around his own as she went further.
Ginny wrapped her hand around him, trembling at first and gaining confidence as she continued to travel up and down his length. Harry felt something heavy press down on his shoulders, body curling tightly around hers, teeth grazing at her shoulder to keep himself silent.
The sensation of her delicate skin against his most sensitive one rapidly broke his resolve. In exactly three strokes, his gaze darkened and something inside him was completely, savagely ripped right apart.
Ginny slowly removed her hand from the inside of his trousers, face scrunched as she observed a thick, sticky liquid drip slowly down her fingers.
"Fuck, no - I'm sorry," Harry spluttered flustered, hurrying to apologise.
But Ginny simply grinned at him proudly, puffing her chest.
"I think we're passed that boundary, eh?"
"Yeah," Harry shrugged, relaxing, and gulped down his embarrassment.
He saw his wand on the floor and wondered when exactly had he chucked it there, but quickly decided it wasn't important. Like a nimble cat, Ginny easily jumped to her feet, allowing him to bend down after his wand.
"Hope I can get this right," Harry huffed, frowning, concentrating on remembering what Tonks had shown him. "Scourgify!" Harry muttered the incantation, pointing the tip of his wand inside his bottoms, hoping very much that he wouldn't singe or remove anything.
Luckily, it worked and he offered to help her as well.
A great sluggish feeling settled over him and he motioned Ginny for the stairs.
"Let's do this again sometime," she cheekily told him, winking, before they parted ways to their respective dormitories.
"Maybe just not in a public armchair, yeah?" Harry laughed boyishly, hands dipping into his pockets.
"Can't make any promises," Ginny replied, mischief dripping down her tongue as she raised on her tiptoes and kissed him goodnight.
She left him dazed, smiling dumbly in the aftermath of an unforgettable, exciting night.