A/N: Wow! I didn't think that prologue would get any attention at all! But it did! And it made me very happy! That being said, I feel like I should mention that usually, in the past when I used to do a lot more writing, I would usually have a significant portion of a story written before I began posting. This is not the case with this story. It's been so long since I've written, that as soon as I wrote something, I wanted to post it! And knowing that people might be reading things that I'm writing gives me some sort of motivation to keep writing! So basically, what I'm saying is that updates won't be a regular thing. But I have a lot of ideas and I pretty much know exactly where this story is going, so it won't be a matter of not knowing what to write that will prevent me from updating, but more of an issue of time! I'm a busy lady, but I'm going to do my best!

As you will see from this chapter, unlike the prologue, the chapters will be of pretty decent length. Also, that explicit stuff that I mentioned in the prologue author's note? Yeah, that starts like... right away. Just diving right into it. Okay, that's all! Feedback is much appreciated!

CHAPTER 1.

Hermione caught Ginny's eye from across the dinner table. Ever since she and Ron had returned from Australia, Hermione was only at the Burrow every now and then. She was spending a lot of time with her parents after having been away from them for so long. But it was a Saturday evening and Hermione sat close to Ron as they finished eating.

Ginny cocked her head, communicating nonverbally with Hermione. Hermione raised her eyebrows and glanced quickly at Harry and then back to Ginny. Ginny shrugged, trying not to give too much away all at once, but her smile betrayed her. It crept up on her and she had no control. She looked away quickly, but she still saw the grin spread over Hermione's face.

"So?" Hermione asked, once they were alone, volunteering to clean up after dinner, and shooing Harry and Ron away when they tried to help, much to their confusion.

"So," Ginny repeated.

"You two are back together, aren't you?"

"No," she shook her head. "I mean, not… really. I don't think. We kissed. Today. That's it."

"But that's something!" she exclaimed. Ginny looked at her and the way she was smiling. There was still so much that Ginny didn't know about where Hermione, Ron, and Harry had been when they were gone. They had each told her tiny bits and pieces. She didn't push them. She didn't want them to have to tell her anything if they weren't ready. But she had let them know that she was willing to listen. Ginny didn't know exactly what had happened to Hermione to cause the visible scars that had never been there before or why, shortly after the war, she would wake up in the middle of the night to hear Hermione softly sobbing. All she knew was that she had been through a lot. And so to see her smile like that, to know that a person could go through so much and still be so excited by the prospect of two of her friends dating made Ginny swell with affection towards her.

"It is something," she agreed with a nod. "I'm not rushing anything, though. I don't want to. I like that we've been taking our time… It wouldn't be right to just jump into things… not after everything that's happened."

"But," Hermione frowned, pausing for a moment to push some of her dark curls out of her face. "I think you two are really good for each other. He could be your Ron."

"I understand what you intended with that sentence, but perhaps I should remind you that I already have a Ron and he happens to be my brother," she said, a laugh playing at her lips, and Hermione grimaced.

"Ew. Oh gosh. No, that's not what I…."

"I know what you meant. And I'm so glad that you and my brother are together and that that's helped both of you...cope. But. I don't know. Harry and I… we still need more time."

"We go back to school soon," Hermione reminded her.

"I know," she nodded, the thought constantly present in her mind. The damage to Hogwarts was being repaired soon enough to have only a two-week delay in reopening.

"They're not coming with us."

"I know that, too."

"Don't you want…?" Hermione trailed off, but Ginny knew where she was headed.

"Of course I do. But I also want it to be perfect. I'm willing to wait for that."

...

Ginny's back was pressed up against a tree. Harry was pressed up against her. One of his hands was on her cheek, the other was on her hip, fingers tracing patterns against the small bit of skin exposed by her t-shirt that had ridden up. Her arms were around him, holding him tight. And neither of them had barely even come up for air.

It was as if a desperation had consumed them and they needed each other, needed to be kissing, to be touching, to be as close as they possibly could. It was probably stupid, Ginny thought, to be doing this so close to the Burrow. Others were home. But she didn't care. She needed Harry even closer. Even though their bodies were pushed together, she wanted more. She pulled his shirt upwards, just a little bit, just to reveal some skin, and their bare midriffs touched, and she still wanted more. But she couldn't have it. She knew she couldn't. Not here, not now.

But Harry's hand trailed upwards. The one on her hip moved up, beneath the fabric of her shirt, pulling her slightly away from the tree just so he could settle on the small of her back. And then his mouth moved, away from her lips, to her neck, to her collarbones, and his hands moved again, too. Down this time. Down to her butt, grabbing it, and she let out a long, low breath, her own hands moving to Harry's head, tangling her fingers in his hair.

"Harry," she mumbled, and then he pulled away from her, looking her in the eyes.

"Is this okay?" he asked. "I'll stop."

"I don't want you to stop. But we're not entirely alone."

"I know. You're right," he said, glancing in the direction of the house. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," she said, shaking her head, her fingers clasped together behind his neck, still holding him close to her. She pulled him back to her, pressing their lips together once again, the intense fervor and desperation of the kissing dissipating some, but she knew that it would return in an instant if they allowed it to.

Only two days had passed since they had first kissed behind the trunk of the largest tree just outside the Burrow. They hadn't discussed it. They didn't talk about it at all. But they went on another walk, reached the same tree again, and before she knew it, Ginny was pressed up against that tree.

When they first started dating, back during that spring at Hogwarts, everything was new and delicate. Every touch had been tentative. They were exploring and discovering each other. But now, they already knew each other. Harry already knew that the spot on Ginny's neck, right beneath her jaw, was the spot to make her draw in her breath sharply, to make her lean her head back further, allowing him full roam. And Ginny already knew that when she pulled Harry's bottom lip between her teeth, his hands would tighten on her, wherever they were. Kissing again, even after more than a year of not touching at all, was just like picking up where they left off. It wasn't like it was before. Not at all. They were just diving right back in to it. It almost seemed as if they were attempting to make up for lost time.

The sound of someone apparating a short distance away drew Harry and Ginny apart from each other instantly, withdrawing their hands, each adjusting their clothing that had become mussed up, looking in the direction of the sound. Ginny's dad was returning from work.

"Er," Harry mumbled, relaxing slightly once it became clear that Arthur didn't notice them. "Maybe we should go back in?"

"Yeah," she agreed. "Yeah, probably."

And so they walked, hand in hand, back towards the Burrow and inside. Their walks together had become so frequent that nobody no longer asked them where they had been. The fact that they were both gone together and then reappeared together didn't come as a surprise to anybody.

"Oh, Ginny, dear," Molly said, catching sight of her from where she was preparing dinner. "Your Hogwarts letter came this morning right after breakfast. It's still on the table."

"Oh! Thanks, Mum!" she said, spotting it and moving towards it. She had spent most of the day outside with Harry and Ron, and then just Harry… she hadn't even been in since breakfast. She sat down at the table and Harry took the seat next to her. As she opened her letter, a small metal badge fell out.

"Is that...?" Harry asked excitedly. She picked it up, a grin spreading over her face.

"It is!" she exclaimed, holding it out in front of her.

"Quidditch captain! Congratulations!" Harry said, smiling brightly at her, and in her excitement, she leaned towards him, and he leaned towards her, and it wasn't until their lips met that they seemed to remember that both Ginny's mother and father were in the room with them. They pulled apart quickly, awkwardly, and Ginny chanced a glance in her father's direction. He was pointedly staring in the opposite direction, the tips of his ears rather pink, but she thought she could see the smallest hint of a smile on his face. And when she looked towards her mother, she caught her eye only for a moment before she turned, humming a happy-sounding song as she went back to finishing dinner.

"Sorry," Harry whispered to her, his own face rather pink. She stifled a laugh.

"Did I hear that correctly?" Arthur asked, seeming to finally decide that he had been looking away long enough. "My daughter is Gryffindor's new quidditch captain?"

"Unless the badge was sent to me by mistake," she smiled, holding it up to let her father see. He beamed with pride.

"Congratulations, Ginny!" Molly said. "Make sure you leave your book list in the kitchen. I can take a trip to Diagon Alley later this week and pick up everything you need."

"I'll go with you, Mum. I'd like to see George…."

"Yes, well… Alright," she agreed with a quick nod.

Ginny was so overwhelmed with joy about becoming the new quidditch captain that she barely even looked at the actual letter she received or her list of required books. She was staring at the shiny metal and the way it gleamed in the sunlight that streamed through the windows when Harry nudged her, and she noticed that he was reading the letter.

"Did you see this? This part here at the bottom?" he asked, handing her back the letter. And she read the final paragraph of it:

Given the events that transpired at Hogwarts last year, as well as within our community, in addition to regular courses this year, Hogwarts will be offering weekly private counseling sessions for any student that wishes to attend. These sessions are not mandatory, but strongly recommended, especially for those who were subject to any harsh punishments last year, fought in the Battle, or lost any close family members or friends. If interested in setting up a weekly appointment time that will work with your course schedule, speak with your Head of House on the first day of term.

"That's a really good idea," Ginny said, folding the parchment and setting it back upon the envelope in which it arrived. "Especially for some of the first years last year that… were punished."

"What about you?"

"What about me? Do that? No. No, I don't need that," she said, shaking her head.

"It might be helpful," he shrugged, but Ginny didn't respond, and that seemed to be the end of the discussion. Harry didn't push it any further.

...

Ginny couldn't sleep.

That wasn't anything new.

She'd been having a hard time sleeping for quite some time now. She could hardly remember the last time she was able to sleep well. Nightmares had become a regular part of her nights ever since her first year at Hogwarts. She had taught herself to just cope with them. She didn't want to be of any trouble… or any more trouble. But now, she had so much more material for nightmares that the insomnia was almost like her body's way of preventing them from happening.

It seemed to be even worse tonight. She was anticipating the next day. She was going to Diagon Alley with her mother to pick up her new school things, and then they were visiting George. She didn't see much of George these days. He didn't come around for dinner very often, and when he did, he looked disheveled, disoriented, and tired. It was clear that he was still having a hard time dealing with Fred's death. He had left the Burrow only a week after they had buried Fred, and since then, only visited periodically. She worried about him. They all did. She wanted to be able to help him, but she didn't know how. She had lost a brother, but he had lost his twin. She knew it was different. She knew that anything she might say to him wouldn't be of much use.

She shifted her position in her bed, trying to find a new comfortable spot. She closed her eyes, willing herself to just fall asleep.

Ron had suggested that she attend counseling when she returned to Hogwarts.

"Harsh punishments, fought in the battle, lost a family member… Ginny, you fall into all three of these categories," he'd said. "You should do it. She should, shouldn't she, Harry?"

"Oh, er. That's up to her," he'd replied.

She couldn't imagine it being helpful at all, though. And besides, who was doing the counseling? Would it be Madam Pomfrey? Or a professor? Or a complete stranger? She couldn't imagine talking about personal things with any one of those. And she thought that she had been handling things perfectly well. She wasn't having any breakdowns or doing anything other than being as strong as she possibly could for her family. She had the nightmares and the insomnia, but that was it. And talking about her problems wasn't likely to fix that.

She shifted again. And then again. The house was completely silent. She didn't know how long she'd been trying to sleep, but it felt like ages. She tried to think of things, happy things, to numb her brain and fall asleep. She replayed the last few walks around the garden with Harry in her mind. The way he kissed her… The feeling of his hand upon her cheek….

And then, just like that, she was back at Hogwarts, hearing Voldemort's declaration that Harry was dead, seeing the lifeless form in Hagrid's arms.

She sat up, her heart pounding, breathing quickly, looking around her room, reminding herself that she was at home, in her bedroom, alive, and that Harry was also alive, just in the other room, the room that used to be Percy's but was now functioning as Harry's until he decided to stay elsewhere.

Ginny slipped out from under her covers, walking soundlessly towards her bedroom door and opening it slowly. She crept out of her room, making her way on tip-toe towards Harry's room. She didn't knock. She just went inside.

Harry was snoring softly in the bed. His glasses were set upon the nightstand along with his wand and a book about quidditch. She knelt down beside the bed, looking at him, his mouth slightly agape, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths. Breathing, He was here. He was breathing. He was alive. She knew that he would be, but seeing it with her own eyes was reassuring. She placed a gentle hand upon his shoulder and he jumped, eyes flashing open, staring straight at her with a look of terror. But then it was gone. His features softened instantly.

"Ginny," he said softly. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I couldn't sleep."

"It's okay. C'mere," he mumbled, moving himself on the bed, giving Ginny a spot. And she complied, climbing into the bed with him, laying her head upon the pillow and looking at him.

"Bad dreams again?"

"Sort of. I couldn't actually fall asleep for ages. Then I finally did and… yeah."

"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked, bringing a hand up to touch Ginny's face, pushing a few strands of hair out of her eyes. She shrugged.

"It's so quiet," was all she said. Harry seemed to understand, reaching across her to the nightstand and grabbing his wand.

"Muffliato."

He settled back down onto the pillow and Ginny stared at him, debating what she should say to him.

"You were dead," was what came out. "In my dream. Except it wasn't really a dream, it was just a sort of vision of what really happened. Because you were dead. I thought you were dead."

"I know. But I'm not. I'm here."

"I know you are," she said, touching him, placing a hand on his arm, gripping onto him, feeling him there with her. "Every time I have that dream, I have to remind myself, though. It's one of the only dreams I have where the person that I dream being dead… isn't actually dead."

"Ginny," he whispered, stroking her hair softly.

"I hate it. I hate having to revisit those memories in such detail. I could deal when it was just dreams about the Chamber, but… I just want to be able to sleep."

"Dreamless Sleep potion," he said. "Get some. I'm sure they have it somewhere in Diagon Alley. You're heading there tomorrow."

But Ginny shook her head. In order to get that, she would have to tell her mother that she couldn't sleep, and she didn't want to be any more trouble.

"Maybe they'll go away on their own eventually," she said.

"I wish there was something I could do."

"Just let me lay with you. That's all I need," she told him, snuggling closer to him. He kissed her. Softly, sweetly, just lips upon lips. She already felt herself relaxing, knowing that sleep wouldn't be far off.

"Can I ask you something?" she said softly.

"Hmm?"

"What are we? I mean, we've been snogging every day for the past few days now, but we haven't really talked about it or anything. I don't mind not defining it right away…. But I go back to Hogwarts soon, and you start auror training soon, and…," she trailed off. Harry was silent for a moment.

"I would like you to be my girlfriend again," he said, speaking slowly as if choosing his words carefully. "If that's what you want as well."

"I would like that, too," she smiled.

"Okay. Okay, good," Harry said. And then he kissed her again.

"I kept having this scenario pop up in my mind of you going to auror training and meeting some gorgeous auror woman with huge tits and you'd forget all about me."

"Huge tits, huh?" Harry laughed. "Tell me more about this imaginary woman you've created."

"Well, basically, she looks like me, except her hair is dark and always pulled back, and she hasn't got any freckles, and she's got huge tits."

"But if she looks like you, then how could I forget about you? Unless I'm only looking at her tits?"

"Well you would be, wouldn't you?"

"No, I don't think I would be."

"Really?" Ginny asked, not believing him.

"Really! I mean, yeah, I think tits are - okay, I have to stop saying tits. Breasts. I think breasts are very interesting, but… I find myself more interested in other… assets on a woman," he said, and with that, his hand slid down to grab Ginny's butt. She stifled a giggle into his shoulder.

"More specifically, your assets," he whispered, close to her ear. She tilted her face towards his and they were kissing again, lips and tongues and teeth, hands roaming, touching, feeling. Harry's hand on Ginny's butt moved down her thigh, to behind her knee, pulling so that her leg was thrown over his hips. And then he rolled both of them and Ginny was on her back with Harry above her, between her legs, and they had kissed so many times, they had gotten very heated, but never like this, never in a bed with only thin layers of summertime pajamas covering their skin. Ginny's nightdress had bunched up somewhere near her hips and she could feel Harry against her bare legs as she wrapped them around him, holding him there, pushing him closer to her. His mouth trailed from her lips, to her jaw, to her neck. And then he glanced up at her.

"Is this okay?" he asked. She nodded. "You're sure?"

"Yes," she nodded again.

"You would tell me to stop if I ever do anything you don't want, right?"

"Yes," she said, even though she couldn't think of anything that he could do that she wouldn't want. But with that, he was kissing her again and she was kissing back and she reveled in the way his body felt on top of hers and when he rolled his hips down slightly, she pushed hers up, and she could feel his arousal, and it just made her want him even more. And then she felt his hand moving from her hip, trailing downwards, and settling right between her legs. She let out a soft gasp, his fingers trailing over the thin cotton of her panties. She wanted him to touch her with nothing in between. He rolled himself off of her, his hand still between her legs, moving so that he was lying just beside her, still kissing her, legs intertwined. She rolled her hips, pushing herself against Harry's hand, wanting more.

"Harry," she finally said, breaking their kiss and looking up at him. "Touch me."

For a brief moment, he seemed to freeze. His mouth opened slightly, and he stared at her, squinting slightly due to his lack of glasses, and finally, he simply nodded. But his hand stayed still, seemingly unable to move. Understanding it as nervousness, Ginny couldn't help but smile, and she was sure that his heart was beating just as quickly as her own. Keeping her eyes on his, she reached down, placing her hand over his, and guided it beneath the elastic waistband of her panties. She watched his eyes widen, felt

his long, low breath on her face, and then she let out a soft whimper as he touched her, nothing in between, just his fingers on her.

"Where…?" he muttered, and she guided him, her eyelids fluttering closed.

"Right… right there."

"Like this?"

"Yes. Yeah. Yeah. Like that," she nodded, her breath quickening, and she removed her hand from his, letting him take over. She had always thought that if anybody ever touched her the way that Harry was touching her, that it would be weird or awkward, or that she would be uncomfortable. But it wasn't any of those things. She was with Harry and it was okay and he was a particularly fast learner, and her breathing was becoming more and more rapid by the second, her chest quickly rising and falling. Occasionally, Harry's fingers slipped away from where she wanted them, but he found his way back quickly, and she let out a breathy moan of approval. Even though she knew that nobody outside the bedroom would be able to hear her, thanks to the spell that Harry had casted, she was still apprehensive about making too much noise. She glanced up at his face to find him staring at her, and despite the fact that she felt perfectly comfortable with him, she could still feel a blush rising to her cheeks, and she let out a noise that was halfway between a giggle and a moan.

"You're staring at me," she mumbled, covering her face with one hand.

"I can't help it," he said, his fingers still moving against her. He leaned closer to her and he kissed her, and she gripped onto him, kissing back fiercely. It wasn't a perfect kiss. It was clear that Harry's focus was elsewhere, but Ginny didn't mind. When Harry's hand moved and suddenly he slipped a finger inside of Ginny, she let out a gasp, followed by a soft moan against his mouth, and she felt his lips turning up slightly into a smile. Her hips began to move, seemingly all on their own, without her permission, moving as Harry moved, and their kiss was broken, but she clung to him still.

"Harry…."

"Tell me what you want me to do. I'll do it."

"Move…. move your finger like, no, not like - yes. Yes. Yes, like that."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, don't stop."

He didn't. She panted, his movements eliciting ripples of pleasure throughout her body. He kissed her again, but didn't linger on her lips. His mouth trailed down to her jaw, her neck, her collarbones, and he pulled the top of her nightdress down as far as it would go, dropping kisses as he went.

"Ginny," he said, never ceasing his movement.

"Hm?" she asked, looking up at him through heavily-lidded eyes.

"I want to taste you."

All she could do was nod, her heart beating fast, her breath already unsteady.

"Yes?"

"Yes," she confirmed, and his fingers were no longer inside of her, and he moved in between her legs, hands coming to rest on both of her hips, touching the elastic of her underwear.

"May I take these off of you?" he asked. She nodded. She felt her underwear being pulled down and she lifted her hips, allowing him to remove them. She attempted to control her breathing as she stared up at the ceiling, but she barely had more than a brief moment before her eyelids fell closed and her mouth dropped open, letting out a soft "oh."

It was like nothing she had ever felt before. His tongue was soft, unlike the roughness of his fingertips, and it seemed to just glide over her. She sighed, feeling her entire body relaxing into the mattress, eyes closed, knees bent, Harry's head between her thighs. His hands were running along the outer sides of her thighs, her hips, up further still. He seemed to be exploring her, both with his hands and with his mouth. He pulled away, turning his head to leave slow, wet kisses along her inner thigh, and then the other. His movements were torturously slow as he made his way back to where he began. But then Ginny let out a breathy moan when his tongue reached her again.

She lost all sense of time. All she knew was Harry and his hands and his mouth on her, and it didn't matter to her if they stayed like that until the sun began to shine through the windows. She wouldn't mind if they stayed like that forever.

Her back arched slightly, his mouth focusing on just one spot, a perfect combination of suction and movement, and her fingers began to twist in the bedspread beneath her. She didn't even realize that she had been rocking her hips until one of Harry's hands grasped at her, holding her still. But staying still was so difficult with the things that he was doing to her, and she let out a moan, louder than all of the others that had escaped past her lips. With one of his hands resting just above her hip, holding her still, he brought the other around, and she felt his fingers sliding into her again.

The feelings were beginning to overwhelm her. Her back continued to arch off of the mattress, fingers clutching at whatever they could find, eyes squeezed shut, mouth agape as she panted and let out noises far more obscene than she ever thought she could possibly make. Her thighs began to tremble as heat spread throughout her body. She tried to move, but Harry held her down firmly.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," she whimpered, her toes curling, muscles tensing, and it was too much. It was too much. She almost wanted him to stop. She reached down towards his head, needing him to stop, needing to push him away, but just as her hand reached his hair, it all seemed to just stop on its own. Nothing had actually stopped. Harry was still doing everything that he had been doing before. And it still felt so good. But everything that had been building up was just… gone.

She let herself relax against the mattress again, running her fingers gently through Harry's messy hair. She touched his face, bringing him up from between her legs.

"Hey," she smiled at him when he looked at her. "Come up here."

He did, crawling beside her, helping her to pull her nightdress down over herself.

"Did you…?" he asked, not finishing the question, but Ginny understood where he was going. She shook her head.

"It's okay, though," she said.

"Are you sure? Because I can go back down there for a little longer," he offered and she laughed.

"Really. It's okay," she assured him. He stared down at her as if trying to figure something out. She decided that she should probably help him. "I got very close. Which is actually more than I would have expected!"

"Well… thank you," he said.

"For what?"

"For… letting me… do that," he smiled sheepishly.

"Oh. Yeah," Ginny laughed softly. "No problem."

She rolled onto her side so that she and Harry were face-to-face. She kissed him softly.

"Now, what about you?" she said with a sly smile, but he shook his head.

"No. Just you for tonight."

"What?"

"Just you," he said again, smoothing her hair away from her forehead. "You should sleep."

"Can I sleep in here with you?"

"Of course. As long as you're up before your mum finds you here."

"I will be," she agreed, feeling for the blankets and pulling them up to cover her and Harry and she nestled close to him. He threw his arm over her, and she breathed in his scent as her eyes closed. She was only now realizing just how tired she was.

And almost instantly, she was asleep.

And she stayed asleep.