Prompts- CelinaGryffindor- The Dreamworld has been bringing these two together before they knew who each other was. AU. Combined with Iwik request- A Muggle orphanage raised Harry, who doesn't show enough magical ability to grant him a letter to Hogwarts winds up being magical enough to make his way onto a Quidditch Team, and Ashamed Alt who asked for me to stop alluding to a certain sex act and do it already.
()()()
Consciousness
()()()
Finally. He hoped he would see her again tonight. He'd been here, waiting in their room for what felt like hours, but it could have just been a few moments. The dreamworld always obscured time.
For years he'd been dreaming of her. It wasn't every night that they met in their dreams, but lately it had seemed like she needed him more than she ever had before and he'd been desperate to be there for her. They couldn't talk to each other, so he didn't know exactly what was wrong, he just wanted to be there to comfort her.
He'd been twelve when he first recalled seeing her. She was this scared little thing with big brown eyes and dark red hair. She looked terrified of him and he hadn't known what to make of it. For months after the first time he'd simply dreamed of the two of them in this empty room sitting across from each other, then slowly they started moving closer to each other. He'd been nearly fourteen when they clasped hands for the first time in this dreamland room of theirs and he'd felt a shock of emotions run through him that were not his own. She too had responded to his touch and then suddenly this imaginary room of theirs had color.
Over the years their room had grown and filled with decorations and creature comforts and though they had never been able to speak to each other they still found comfort in the other in a way that he couldn't quite put into words. Thus, regardless of whether they could speak to each other, he still wouldn't know what to say.
Lately there had been less color in the dreamland and he was sure it had something to do with what was going on with her. She was less vibrant than she had been, there were less smiles, more of her simply requesting with her eyes that he hug her and hold her close.
Harry didn't mind this. He wasn't sure if she was real but he thought about her enough during his waking hours that he had every freckle and every shade of brown in her eyes memorized, and all the many shades of red in her hair he would be reminded of in the sunset and sunrise.
He loved her.
He wasn't sure exactly what love should feel like, and it wasn't like he could tell anyone about his 'dream girl', but he still knew he loved her.
That was why he was always sure to get to sleep at exactly the same time every night.
Tonight she appeared again before him in their dream room and immediately clasped her hand in his to bring the room into sharper focus and let some of the color in once again. There was magic in the room when they touched. It was like they could bring anything they wanted here so long as they were touching.
She'd been crying. He could see it in the puffiness of her eyes. His hand came to cup her cheek and his thumb grazed under her eyes to wipe away the invisible tears.
She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.
He wanted her eyes open though. They couldn't speak to each other, but through her eyes he could try and deduce what was wrong and how he could fix it.
She'd grown into such a beautiful girl. She must have been the same age as him or there abouts, which was now seventeen.
She quickly wet her lips with her tongue and bit her bottom lip, her eyes still closed tight.
The emotions that passed between them were sending this longing through his entire body that didn't come from him. It was her. She was longing for him.
Her lovely eyes opened again and confirmed it.
Then the room brought something new into it that he'd never seen in there before. They'd had a couch in here for when they would sit together, but never a bed before.
Harry turned to look at the bed and took a nervous breath.
She was asking him for this. Almost begging.
And he couldn't deny her a request like this.
()()()
A sound brought Ginny back to consciousness. One of her dorm mates was moving around. They were attempting to be quiet, but it was a small room.
She closed her eyes again, wishing that she could get back to her REM state that would bring her back to him.
Her dream last night had been wonderful. He'd been so gentle with her, so tender, so loving.
It had been exactly what she'd needed.
The world was crumbling around her and there was a battle fast approaching. Stories of what her fellow students were being subjected to by the current leaders of the school had her terrified that she would befall the same fate and she was desperate for her first time to be one like she'd experienced with her dream boy last night.
Even if it was all just something that she'd made up in her mind after the 'incident' in order to deal with the trauma.
That was when her dreams of him had started, so it made sense that it related. And at first she'd been terrified that he was Tom Riddle, still using her as his puppet, but he wasn't. Dream boy was nothing like Tom Riddle.
And last night he had been able to give her feelings beyond anything she thought capable. She'd given herself to him completely and she was not disappointed.
Even if she did get subjected to that kind of torture by one of the Prefect boys, she'd still think of what she'd done in her dreams last night as her first time.
Alas, sleep was not going to return to her. Her other dorm mates seemed to have woken up and were all moving around the room as well.
It was her Sixth Year at Hogwarts and she'd been ordered by the Ministry of Magic to return to school. What their punishment would be if she refused she wasn't entirely sure. Her brother Ron was of age, he'd run off to join the Order of the Phoenix with the Chosen One, Neville Longbottom, making her the last Weasley left.
Ginny pulled back her covers and opened her curtains so she could start getting ready for the day.
She missed Ron more than she thought she would, but Neville was not someone she wanted to think about. He was a great guy, and according to everyone, Neville included, the two of them belonged together. She'd tried too, given him a chance when he asked her out in her Fourth Year, but there had always been something missing.
He wasn't her dream boy.
Their relationship had been off and on since that first date. She was always the one putting it off, he was always the one trying for it to be on.
Now it was off because he was gone off on some suicidal mission to try and bring about the end of Voldemort. Before he'd left he'd made sure she knew he was going to 'come back for her'.
Ginny really wished he wouldn't have done that. He'd kissed her the last time she saw him like she was the only thing that meant anything to him in the world, she let him too. And she'd wished that when he was done, she would open her eyes and see vibrant green irises staring back at her instead of his muddy brown ones.
What could she have said though? He was going off to war and seemed to find motivation in thinking the two of them would be together once… if… he came out the other side.
It had been a few months ago now since she had seen either Neville or her brother. They'd run off before Neville's birthday and left her behind to do what she could to help protect her fellow students at school, all of whom were also being forced to be here and be subjected to the teachings of dark witches and wizards now running the school.
Ginny went to the shower after her clothes were laid out on the bed and stepped into the spray, closing her eyes to appreciate better the small amount of pleasure that she got from the hot water on her body. With the soap in hand she ran it all over herself, retracing all the places that she could recall him touching her in her dream.
()()()
Harry stretched out in bed as the morning light came in from the window and across his face, a big grin already there from the amazing romp in the sack he'd had with his dream girl last night. He'd had months of dreams of her being in these horribly depressed moods over the past few months and needing his comfort, sometimes she would call up a bed to the room, sometimes not.
There was something different this time though.
She'd been nearly ecstatic when he'd seen her in the dream room last night. She'd been grinning at him and launched herself on him the moment he got there. She'd torn his pajamas off of him and pushed him back on the bed giving him the ride of his life.
It had been incredibly sexy.
Though it was all just in his mind, he still felt like he'd been shagged within an inch of his life and boy was it satisfying.
Being raised in an all-boys orphanage hadn't given him a lot of experience with girls. He'd been sent out to secondary school that was mixed, but the girls there knew he was an orphan and they all acted like it was something contagious he could infect them with.
Honestly, it never really bothered him how real girls treated him because he had her waiting for him nearly every night in his dreams.
Harry lifted up his head and took a look around the room at the other bunks to see if anyone else was up.
He was going to miss this place.
He was days away from aging out and being sent forth into the real world. Still not sure what he was going to do with himself. He didn't have any money for college so it was likely he'd just get a job at a shop or something and see what the world had to offer.
Harry jumped down from his top bunk and reached for a fresh set of clothes from his drawer to take into the showers with him and that was when he noticed that there was a rip on his pajama top.
It was exactly where she had ripped them.
He stared at the torn fabric in confusion. In the dream she'd grabbed on either side of his button down and given a hard yank. An unsuccessful hard yank that had resulted in the two of them chuckling and them him lifting his top off over his head himself. And that rip beside his buttons was exactly the spot that had torn.
He stared out the window for a minute, lost in thought of how exactly this could have occurred. He tried to figure out if he'd done it himself and it had translated into the dream through potential fitful movements in his bunk.
The muggy grey sky highlighting the London skyline through the window was not helping him reach any conclusions.
The stirring from a few other boys in the room brought him out of his ponderings and he gathered his shower caddy and slipped out of the room.
After breakfast he was called into the Directors office for a meeting. He'd been expecting this, it was supposed to be a talk about what his life outside the orphanage was going to look like, what government supplied work programs and housing and such there were available to him. He'd heard it all before from the other boys who aged out. But there was someone else there in the office with the Director that Harry hadn't been expecting. He'd thought it was supposed to be a one on one. And this person was wearing some very interesting clothes.
"Good morning, Mister Potter," the strangely dressed man said and extended his hand to him.
"Good morning, Sir," Harry replied and shook hands politely.
"Harry, this is Mister Digglesworth. He is a representative of a financial institution that held your parents estate," Director Jamison told him.
"Estate?" Harry asked in confusion. "What estate? I thought the man that left me here said they had nothing?"
Mister Digglesworth scoffed and muttered something under his breath that sounded like 'smugglers'. "You were misinformed. I've just been speaking to your Director here and he has given permission, given your age and responsible attitude, to bring you down to our offices and discuss what has been left to you."
Harry exchanged a look with the Director and he did nod his consent.
"Alright," Harry nodded. "I'd very much like to learn anything about them you could share. I haven't been able to find any information on them. And I've looked."
"Probably not in the right places," Mister Digglesworth told him sadly. "Now," he started, switching tones entirely to something more official, "just to confirm I have the right man, please confirm your name for me."
"Harry Potter."
"Date of birth?"
"So far as we know, summer 1980."
"July 31st," Mister Digglesworth confirmed.
"Okay." It was all Harry could offer. The 'uncle' that dropped him off at the orphanage left him in a bassinet with a blanket and a note saying his name and the first names of his parents whom had died penniless, and that was it. He'd looked just over a year old and the staff at the orphanage had made an estimated guess of age based on his height and development. It was nice to know for sure though.
"So you've been of age for a few months now, but due to unforeseen circumstances we haven't been able to reach out to you sooner."
"Uh, wouldn't I be a few months shy of being of age?" Harry asked in confusion.
Mister Digglesworth paused. "Oh, my. Yes, that's right. Um, well. See, your parents had requested you receive your inheritance on your seventeenth birthday." He grew quite flustered as he sputtered out that correction, making Harry second guess the validity of the statement.
One word stood out though. "Inheritance?" Harry questioned. First there was talk of 'estate', now there was an 'inheritance'?
Mister Digglesworth closed his folder and tucked it away with a shake of his head. "How about we just go over the rest of the details in my office, yes?" He then pulled out a stick from inside his strange overcoat and pointed it at the Director, saying something odd and then took Harry by the arm and there was this strange tugging sensation from his naval and the room started spinning.
The next moment Harry had fallen hard onto his bum in a very opulent looking office.
"How did you do that?!" Harry gasped. His Director was nowhere to be seen. It was just this room full of oil paintings in gilded frames and an enormous oak desk.
A movement from the wall caught his eye and Harry watched as one of the old men in the oil portraits wiped his nose. How in the hell did he do that? Was it a projected image?
"We'll get to that," Mister Digglesworth dismissed. "Now, Mister Potter, it is my pleasure to inform you that in our world you are actually already of age. You have been for some months, but due to the war with You-Know-Who we at Gringotts thought it best not to inform any Squibs or Muggleborns of anything pertaining to inheritance or Hogwarts acceptances, anything that could make them a potential target for the Death Eaters. Thus, since the war has just ended," he said with a large grin, "it was my pleasure that you are the first on my docket to inform of your new wealth."
There must have been some LSD or something spiked in his morning coffee. There was no way any of this was real. Perhaps someone gave him something topical in his sleep last night, since his strange day started with his ripped pajamas.
"You are son of James Potter, of the Potter family, and Lily Potter, nee Evans, Muggleborn. She has two living blood relatives, a sister and a nephew, both residing in Little Whining, Surrey. They are not listed on her last will and testament. Our records indicate that it is your Aunts husband that brought you to the orphanage and upon investigation of the family the Ministry decided the orphanage was the better option for your upbringing."
Harry managed to get up off the floor and into the closest chair as he listened to the man carry on, only understanding half of what he was saying.
"It appears that you hadn't shown any signs of magic by the time you were eleven, pity, which is why you didn't receive a letter from Hogwarts. However, there may be a chance that you have some magic hidden in you somewhere. Some Squibs do find that they can manage a bit when given a wand. I'd suggest you head down to Ollivander's and give it a try once the shop opens again. Merlin, I hope it opens again," he said as an afterthought.
It was a complete trip. Mister Digglesworth carried on listing off money, treasure, property, belongings, etc that had been willed to Harry on his seventeenth birthday. He'd talked about how they were going to donate a certain amount to the orphanage with Harry's consent to cover his upbringing. How Harry would be getting assigned a guide from Gringotts to walk him through this and that about adjusting to the Wizarding world, and then he took him down into his vault.
On a rollercoaster.
With some sort of gremlin leading the cart.
Harry had been able to do little more than follow along behind Digglesworth and the creature that had opened the massive vault door. He was too struck to form any words.
After signing documents that Digglesworth had put in front of him, only because he was shown exactly where and what to sign, Harry was handed a shoe. It was a magic shoe. One that had him pulled by the naval again and transported in the blink of an eye to a stone cottage in the country.
He landed there in the shoulder high wildflowers with a shoe in one hand and a pile of paperwork in the other.
Digglesworth had told him that this was his family home and he should familiarize himself with the property and the documents given to him and that someone from the Ministry would be along in a day or so.
Harry dropped the shoe as soon as he regained his balance, afraid that it might somehow reactivate and have him being transported again. Then, with no other options coming to mind, he pushed his way through the brush and towards the house.
By the time night fell Harry had done a tour of the cottage he now owned that had three bedrooms, a den, two full bathrooms, a kitchen, living room, dining room, enclosed patio and according to the documents he'd been given, two acres of land around it. There was no garage, just a small shed that he'd yet to go into, and there was no driveway.
The only way he could figure that the home had been built here was by magic, because he couldn't explain it.
And apparently magic existed.
He flipped through all the paperwork, looking at the pages and information there again and again until he grew hungry, then scrounged around in the kitchen in search of something he could eat. It appeared that the last time the cottage had been occupied it was twenty years ago, but the incredibly stale cereal in the pantry satisfied him enough that he could keep exploring.
There were books in the den, books on magic, some on household spells.
Upon searching in the desk of the den he found a wand.
He looked from the wand to the book and decided that if he was going to give this a try, he best do it outside, so into the yard he went.
Harry was skeptical about all this, but his day had been insane enough that a little more insanity was hardly going to make a difference.
Flipping through the book he found a spell called a cutting hex, one that could be hazardous if used on a person, but damned useful for grass. Well, there was plenty of grass to be cut, so Harry gave it a try. He slashed the wand through the air a few times, adding the flourishes here and there that the book told him to and saying the word. But nothing happened.
Five times he tried and nothing happened.
The sixth time though, there was a warmth that shot down his arm to his hand and a ten meter radius in front of him of grass and wild flowers had been sliced clean through at his arms height.
"It's fucking real!" he whispered to himself.
The remainder of the day he spent pouring through the rest of the book giving every household spell in there a try until each one of them had yielded a result and his new home was now much more habitable.
()()()
"Ginny, he's been very patient with you," her mother sighed. "When will you give the poor boy a chance?"
"I've given him a chance, mum. I've tried. He's just… I'm not in love with him. I can't imagine myself ever being in love with him. Please just give it a rest."
Ginny was so sick of everyone being on her about how she needed to give in to Neville's attempts to woo her. Why he was so persistent she just didn't understand. He could have absolutely anyone. He was the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived, Defeater of the Dark Lord, but he wasn't now, nor would he ever be, the one for her.
Her mother, her brother Ron, her friends, not Luna, but all of her other friends had been harping at her to give in to him. The girls at school this past year had thought she was crazy because she was consistently rebuffing his attempts.
She was being polite about it. It wasn't like she was laughing in his face for trying. Nor was she wasn't flat out telling him no. She'd just told him straight as nicely as she could that she just didn't feel that way about him.
Which meant he kept going about trying to change her mind.
Now she was back home for the summer after finishing up her seventh year at Hogwarts and he kept popping around. Ron kept inviting him for dinner, or her mother, or he was looking to play a pick up game of Quidditch, even though he was terrible on a broom.
She was sick of it.
She almost wanted to go out and make the next guy that showed a vague interest in her her boyfriend just to make them all stop.
She couldn't though. She knew what she wanted and she was willing to wait.
She still had him to keep her company at night.
The war had been terrible, everything from when she'd stepped foot at Hogwarts up until the time she'd left had been tainted with shadows of Voldemort and Ginny had worried that those shadows might have been what brought about her dream man, and she worried that once Voldemort had left that so would he.
That first proper sleep she'd gotten after the final battle, when she'd seen him come to the room she'd launched herself at him. The passion between them had persisted over this past year. There were still no words between them, but they didn't need words for what they were getting up to in their dream room.
It was those feelings that he brought about in her that she was wanting in a partner in her waking world.
She and he had started off tentatively but given time they'd come together, and he'd come to be all she could hope for in a companion. Ginny had given that time to Neville and waited for something to come of it. She'd kissed him, or rather, allowed him to kiss her, and she just couldn't pretend she felt anything but friendship for him.
"Well, I think you need to get out and meet someone then," her mum continued. "It's been lovely having you home but you are off to Training camp soon and there won't be any men there for you." She paused for a moment and took a quick glance around. "Unless. Well, unless it isn't men that you are interested in?"
"No, mum," Ginny sighed. "It is men I'm interested in. I just know what I don't want." She folded the last towel and added it to her pile. "But you're right. Maybe I should go out with Luna and Hermione or something. Try and meet someone new."
"Yes, that would be a lovely idea. I bet Hermione knows several places to go in London where you could have a girls day out and see what's out there," her mother told her eagerly.
"Okay. I'll send Hermione an owl and ask if she'd be up for it."
It was slightly depressing for her to have everyone trying to match her up. Her mother was only being so persistent about it because all of her brothers seemed to have found their forever someone, even Charlie had met someone out on the Dragon Reserve he'd brought home last Christmas and everyone had thought he'd be an eternal bachelor.
Luna was the only one that hadn't made inquiries about Ginny's love life. She was always good for a few raunchy stories of her own experiences though. Apparently, Luna wasn't at all picky about who she had these experiences with; boys, girls, even a male water nymph had once used his tongue on her and she said it was the best orgasm she'd ever had.
A girls day out did sound like a nice break from her home life for a few hours. Since coming home from school she'd been just helping her mum and training like mad to be in top shape for training camp.
Ginny had been so ecstatic about getting her invitation from the Holyhead Harpies. Right out of school too! She'd barely done any schoolwork this year and put her all into dominating on the Quidditch Pitch. Now she would be putting her all into making it onto the team permanently and making her dream career a reality. So, who had time for a man right now anyway?
()()()
The Star and Sailor was a bit of a dingy pub, and the garish orange of the walls took some time to get used to, but the atmosphere inside was always so cheery.
It had amazed Harry how easily he'd taken to flying a broom.
It amazed him how easily he'd adjusted to the magic world all together.
But flying, it had been like he was borne to it.
Household spells like what he'd practiced with that initial book he'd found at the cottage had been all he'd really mastered. Once he'd gotten a different wand it had been even easier too. Then when he'd cleaned up the yard enough to get into the shed and found the old brooms there he'd initially checked to see if they could make him fly as a joke.
That first broom he took out looked like it had been painted and polished before the years had degraded it. The twigs at the end were all going off in every different direction and it was not a pretty broom at all, it still responded to his every wish though.
His first time airborne had been one of the best experiences of his life.
From there he learned about Quidditch. Then he had found Quality Quidditch Supplies, then he had went to a few games and gotten a practice Snitch.
He'd completely lost himself in the game. It was incredible!
When he'd found out about the Chudley Cannons and their open try-outs, well, what choice did he have?
Amazingly enough he made the team!
Tonight was his third night out with the team and he was making fast friends with the lot of them. They were easily the worst team in the league but none of them cared, they were still putting their whole heart into it, and, like Harry, they were all simply happy to be on a Professional Team.
Harry went to sit down with Ian, the Keeper, and saw that there was a new person sitting at the table.
"Harry!" Ian called as an introduction to the new guy at the table, "this is Ron. He's our biggest supporter."
"Ron Weasley," the tall ginger man introduced. He looked to be about the same age as Harry.
"Harry Potter, good to meet you. I just joined the team," Harry grinned.
"As a Seeker, I know. Heard your try out was phenomenal!"
Harry was surprised he was already known, even if this guy was the biggest Cannons supporter. "Do you play?" Harry asked him.
"Oh, made the school team as a Keeper, but I was terrible. All nerves, you know? But I'm thrilled I'm able to go to all the games now. Got the Season pass and Ian just told me I was getting bumped up from Bronze level tickets to Silver." Ron was giving Ian a look of admiration.
"Had to, didn't I? Can't have our biggest fan not being rewarded for his unfailing loyalty. Especially not now that I've heard your sister is about to be a Harpy," Ian laughed.
"She just got into the training camp, doesn't mean she's made the team," Ron was quick to say. "Even if I wish her the best, I'll still be a Cannons fan regardless."
"Oh, I've no doubt," Ian dismissed. "I'll let you get to know our newest teammate here. You two boys are about the same age, should have loads to chat about." He gave them both a pat on the back and went off to refill his drink and do his rounds to the different tables.
"You've followed the team for a long time then?" Harry asked and shifted over on the bench seat to sit closer so they didn't have to yell at each other.
"Since I was old enough to properly follow Quidditch. My mum says it was the orange that got me," he laughed.
Harry couldn't help chuckling over that too. "I only just learned about Quidditch in the last year. Didn't know anything about this world until the war was over, then it was 'surprise' you aren't actually a Squib and I tried flying a broom for the first time, then that, as they say, was that."
"You're kidding?!"
Harry had told this story a few times and it was always the same kind of reaction he got.
"Nope. Now, if you really are the biggest fan, can you tell me everything I need to know about the guys on the team? Help me feel like I'm one of them?" With being raised at the orphanage he'd learned a lot over the years about helping make newcomers feel comfortable being around him. This Ron guy was already known to Ian, the captain, and getting his Season Passes bumped up, then that meant he was someone to ingratiate himself with, having him be the one to let him know the ins and outs of the team history seemed like a good way to make them fast friends.
That, and being the one to buy the two next rounds.
He and Ron wound up chatting and laughing for a few more drinks. He was a funny guy, came from a really big family.
Their fun had to come to an end though when his girlfriend showed up to bring him home.
"Harry, this is 'Mione," Ron introduced. "Didn't I tell you she was pretty?" Ron went in to give his girlfriend a kiss and she seemed a bit resistant, likely due to his breath and inability to keep his balance.
"Hermione Granger," she introduced properly.
"Harry Potter," he nodded. "Ron's been telling me you're brilliant."
"She's going to run the world one day!" Ron proclaimed. "And I'm going to be an excellent house husband, aren't I?" He hugged Hermione close. "We're going to have a bunch of kids and I'm going to take such good care of them all day, then make sure you get your feet rubbed every night."
Harry snickered, though he couldn't help watching this drunken display of affection from his new friend a bit wistfully. It must be really nice to have someone to moon over like that.
"Ron, how much have you had to drink?" Hermione seemed to be fighting back a smile and a blush.
"'S my fault," Harry raised his hand. "He was giving me intel on the team and I kept buying him drinks in exchange for information."
"Well, I'm glad the two of you had fun. I should probably get him home though."
"I should go too." They all got up and Ron and Hermione headed for the door, Harry for the Floo. "Great meeting you!" he called out to them.
Ron gave him a big wave farewell.
When Harry came through the Floo to his cottage he managed to down a glass of water before trudging upstairs.
Seeing Ron with his girlfriend being all lovey dovey was making him miss her. He hoped she was there tonight. It seemed like he hadn't seen her in forever, but it had probably only been a few nights that they kept missing each other.
It had never been every night that they visited the room.
His head hit the pillow and he was out like a light.
Coming into the dream room he smiled. He could tell she'd be there shortly.
It was funny, he still felt a bit drunk, even though he was sleeping right now. It made all his movements feel more fluid, like there wasn't a conscience in his head telling him that perhaps he should show more restraint in what he was doing.
It was grey in the room without her here. Dull. He needed her to be here for life to be restored to it.
And a bed.
Once she got here there would be color and a bed because Merlin, yeah, that's right, he was saying Merlin instead of Jesus, he wanted her right now. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair and kiss the side of her face, and her eye lids, and her nose and her lips. Then he wanted to just keep working his way down her body.
Then she materialized in front of him. She looked like how he imagined she would look when she just woke up from a good nights sleep and gave a big stretch. A soft smile came to her face.
He gave her a dopey smile too and reached out to cup the side of her face. He needed to see the warm honey brown of her eyes and he could only see that when they were touching.
He felt the warmth of her cheek and watched as her complexion took on a sun-kissed look and her hair turned the amazing color of red and her lips turned pink.
He loved those lips.
He kissed those lips. He'd wanted to start off with a kiss to her temple, but with her lips in front of him he couldn't resist. They were so soft and supple. He kissed those lips and moved her over towards the bed, his hands wandering all over her body.
They'd had many an experience with each other's body in this room and there was no cause to be shy about their wants now. And did he ever want her right now.
Piece by piece their clothes found the floor and he moved his kisses down her body, lingering on her breasts, his fingers trailing up and down her side and between her legs. Her whole body was like it had been designed for him, and vice versa. Her soft, pillowy breasts were perfect for nuzzling or palming, her nipples were so responsive to the gentlest of kisses, nips or licks. The same could be said for her sex.
He kept working his way down her body.
Seeing how his new friend had been gushing about how he wanted to dote on his girlfriend, it made Harry want to dote on her.
He wanted to make her cum. Again and again. He wanted to spend his entire night seeing how many times he could make her scream into the silence.
The first one he wanted to be quick. He knew he could get her quickly and then have her be like putty for him to work her up to her second. His tongue found her clit quickly and he worked her over with it just how he'd learned she liked. His tongue pressed against her there hard, giving her rhythmic rotations as she gyrated against his face.
His eyes were on her, staring up at her writhing body while her hands fisted into the sheets.
He was right, her first orgasm was coming over her after only about a minute of him working at her.
Sound was not one of the senses they had access to in this room. Scent though, it was always subtle. There was a faint scent of wildflowers that he wasn't sure came from him or her. And when she came there was this subtle scent he got, particularly if he buried his tongue inside her immediately after she came, like he was doing now, and that scent was intoxicating.
It was the scent of her, and it drove him mad with want.
Right now though, he wanted to get her again.
He kept tonguing her sex as she came down from her high and then started moving with him again. Then he brought his fingers up to her entrance and let them take over that job while his tongue found its way back to her clit.
He grinned against her at the feel of her hot wetness against his fingers.
She was this worked up because of him, and that was so incredibly sexy.
He kept up is tongue swipes against her the way she liked and thrust his fingers inside her a few times. Just two to start, then he added another one and he felt her shiver against him. He opened his eyes and saw she'd arched her back off the bed in order to get more leverage to move back against his fingers.
She came again. This time he felt her clamp down around his fingers and felt a rush of her juices on his fingers.
Giving her a moment to enjoy the after glow he kissed her thigh and stilled his fingers, not removing them from where they were happily buried inside her. He lay kisses to her other thigh and felt her sigh from the pleasure she felt.
Slowly he removed his fingers. He moved them about an inch or two lower and felt her body tense.
They'd done this before too, and she'd liked it.
Harry trailed his fingers around her rosebud a few times, making sure there was more than enough lubrication there for this. With every gentle application of pressure there he felt her force herself to relax more. Then she started pushing back against his fingers, giving him permission to carry on with his mission.
Just one first.
Once accompanied by his tongue against her clit again. She was rocking back and forth in a way that meant he didn't have to move his hand at all. Deeper and deeper his finger dipped inside her tight hole. Harry was thrusting against the mattress to try and relieve some of the pressure he felt building up inside of him. He so wanted to bury himself where his finger was right now.
They hadn't done that though, he'd only just used his fingers on her there.
This may simply all be in his head but she was still the girl of his dreams and he couldn't bring himself to do something like that without her giving him explicit permission.
But he thought about it.
The way they'd moved up to this point of their relationship had felt so real. It had been tentative at first, then they'd relaxed into a natural kind of progression. Now there was very little that was off the table and he knew he could play her body like a fiddle.
It had surprised them both at how much she seemed to respond to this. He'd wanted to touch her there for ages before he'd cautiously given it a go. He remembered the look of surprise on her face, how big her eyes had gotten, how deep her breaths, and he remembered how she hadn't stopped him.
He gave her a few more good licks and made sure she was nice and comfortable with what he was doing to her, then he added another finger.
He made sure to look up at her as he did this as well. The look of pleasure on her face, of her breasts rocking with the movements she was making back against his fingers.
It made him even harder.
Only a few more moments and he felt that familiar tenseness from her that meant she was cumming again.
'Finally', he thought and gave her a few more slow licks to let her ride it out. But now it was his turn.
He removed his fingers and climbed up the bed to line himself up with her. She didn't give him the chance to continue though, she flipped him over so she was on top. She gave him a few very grateful kisses and nips as she ground herself against him, the warmth between her folds coating the underside of his cock nicely. Then she raised her hips and lowered herself down on him, sitting up so she could give them both the full effect.
Being completely sheathed inside her felt incredible and it was keeping the raging monster in his chest telling him to take her as hard as possible at bay.
She kept up a steady and slow pace though, like she was teasing him. Putting a show on for him as a thank-you for the lovely tonguing he'd given her three times over. Her hands came up to grasp at her own breasts as she rode him steady. He watched as she pinched her own nipples and kneaded herself. Then her hands slid slowly down her stomach to her sex, giving a good rub to her clit.
He bit his lip as he watched her play with herself. She brought her other hand down to his hip to stop him from making any movement, like she wanted to be the only one in charge right then.
He was so aroused he could barely keep his eyes open.
His eyes did wind up closing and he focused solely on the sensation of being buried in her tight hot center over and over again. Then he felt her reach behind her back and play with his balls and couldn't help thrusting up into her at that.
She really was making him keep his orgasm at bay.
He was desperate for a finish soon though. If something came along and woke either of them up he was going to be furious.
When he felt her pull out all the way there was a moment of panic that one of the two of them was about to wake up. That wasn't the case though. His eyes opened and he saw her poised there over top of him, still straddling. Her one hand was still behind her and she gripped him there.
It was his turn for his eyes to widen and his breaths to grow deep and hopeful.
He bit his lip as she lowered herself back down, twirling his tip around that tight little rosebud back entrance of hers. She bit her own lip as she slowly took him in. The further she lowered herself down onto him the more her mouth opened. By the time he was fully sheathed in her arse her head was thrown all the way back and her mouth open wide in a silent scream.
It was so tight. And so hot.
He'd been lubricated up enough by the results of her three orgasms, and prepared her enough with his fingers apparently, that she'd been game to give this a try.
It felt fucking amazing.
She hadn't moved any more than to simply take him in and it felt amazing. When she started riding him, very slowly at first, it was even more incredible. The more she rode him the more comfortable she got taking him in and riding him that way.
It was sensational.
His hands went to her hips and she let him thrust up into her arse.
Her hands came to his chest and she gave him a light scratch there. That was when he lost it and the monster in his chest demanded he flip them over so he could ride her arse properly. Harry gripped her hips even tighter and flipped them, her legs coming up to wrap around his waist so he had enough leverage to fuck her at this entirely new angle.
Harry couldn't help opening his eyes and taking a good look at what he was doing. She had her eyes closed and, amazingly enough, the expression on her face told him she was close to getting her fourth orgasm.
He didn't have that much longer until he completely lost it, and he didn't have any more willpower to try and hold it back any longer.
Turned out he didn't have to.
As he came inside her arse she tightened impossibly harder around him, her nails now digging into his shoulder as she went over the edge as well.
He collapsed on top of her. It never failed to amaze him how tired he could get after their escapades, even though they were currently dreaming.
Slowly and gently, Harry pulled out of her, feeling her shiver at the sensation. Then he flopped down onto his back and pulled her to cuddle into him, giving her a kiss to her temple, and her nose, and her lips before laying back and simply feeling so content.
()()()
Ginny woke and gave a big stretch in the morning.
That dream she'd had last night with him had been incredible. Who knew that getting buggered would feel so good?
After spending all the previous day being out in the summer heat with Hermione and Luna looking at all the nice man candy walking around London Center and then having her dream guy going down on her again and again like she was his favorite snack, well, she wanted to give it a try.
Who better to do that for the first time with than the man of your dreams that you've been having semi-lucid shagfests with for years?
She was in a pretty good mood when she got down to the kitchen for breakfast, but that mood dipped quite a bit when she saw that Neville was there. She did her best not to let her expression reflect how much she wished he wasn't.
"Morning all," she greeted everyone and went to the cupboard to get a mug for some coffee.
"Any sign of movement from Ron's room?" Neville asked her.
Oh good, he was there to see Ron, Ginny thought. "No, didn't hear anything. I think he was at Hermione's last night though."
"Is he?" her mum asked, sounding genuinely surprised. "Sorry Neville dear. It's getting harder to keep track of them."
"No problem," he told her and stood up. "Guess I'll just go pop over to Hermione's then. Thanks for the tea. Good to see you all again."
Ginny made eye contact with him and gave a nod of farewell, he gave one in return. It seemed friendly, and not overly. Maybe he was coming around to seeing her as only a friend now. That would be a blessing.
As she assembled herself a plate of eggs they heard the slight crack of Apparation from up the hill.
"He was just telling me that he'd met someone. That he had a date set up for this weekend," her mother told her.
"Really?" Ginny smiled, genuinely. "That's great." Her shoulders sagged with relief. "I'm so glad. I was feeling so bad for having to constantly turn him down. Thought he was never going to believe me and move on."
She caught the pursing of the lips her mother did. It was clear that the woman still held out hope. Out of the corner of her eye Ginny saw her mother open and close her mouth a few times, only just managing to stop herself from starting to spew out the same speech she'd said many times before. 'If you'd only give him a real chance. Such a nice boy. He'd be good to you. You could do worse.' And on, and on.
Eating as quickly as she could she took her plate to the sink and headed back upstairs to get dressed for the day.
Ron had mentioned there was a Quidditch game this afternoon and invited her along to 'check out her competition'. Ginny had chuckled at his phrasing it that way. It was a Cannon's versus Wasp's game. The Wasp's had pretty good Chasers, but she knew that Ron had been referring to the Cannon's as Ginny's competition. The boy was a die-hard fan and Ginny just couldn't get it. They were bottom of the league. Always.
Though they were also her fallback option if she couldn't get in with the Harpies. The Cannon's didn't require these training camps as a prerequisite to tryout.
This afternoon though she wanted to get in some more training of her own.
()()()
The cheers throughout the bar were near deafening when Harry walked into the establishment and he was grinning ear to ear as he accepted the pats on the back while he was ushered through to the counter, a full pint already waiting for him.
"Keep pulling moves like that and we'll be top of the league!" Ian hollered, a round of cheers from everyone else in the pub calling out in agreement.
Harry couldn't believe it; his first time being thrown into the game and he'd managed to catch the Snitch in just the nick of time. The Wasp's Chasers had been out playing their own so seamlessly that after only a half hour they were near 150 points up, then, just as one of their Chasers was about to throw the Quaffle through the hoop and score the ten more points that would put them at that milestone, Harry caught the Snitch and ended the game, giving them a 10-point lead.
His first pint disappeared into a happy place and was quickly replaced by another before Harry turned around to take a look at all who had showed up tonight. In the corner he saw the ginger hair of his new friend Ron.
"Hey!" Harry greeted him and pulled over a chair.
"Harry! Hey, I want you to meet my friend Neville. Brought him to the game with me today. Perfect day for him to go. Congratulations! Great catch!" Ron grinned.
Harry took in the guy Ron introduced and did a double take. "Neville Longbottom?" he asked in surprise.
"That's me," he replied sheepishly and gave a little wave.
This was the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One. He'd been plastered all over every type of media there was out there in the Wizarding World when Harry was first introduced to it. The pictures that had been on the cover of newspapers and magazines hadn't been professional shots so Harry had assumed that they'd just gotten him at odd angles or always against his wishes and that was why he'd looked so nervous and ready to bolt, but no. Here he was sitting at a table with him and Neville Longbottom looked like an introvert that would rather be holed up somewhere with a book than out at the pub.
"Hope you don't mind, Neville," Ron said. "Harry's my new favorite hero!"
Neville gave a chuckle. "I had to be dethroned sometime, didn't I? May as well be for a Quidditch star."
It was nice to know Neville was a humble bloke too. "I think 'star' is pushing it a bit. Let's see if we can make a habit of this first," Harry grinned. "Could be beginners' luck."
They ordered some food and a few more rounds of drinks and Neville started coming out of his shell more, then the fifth drink seemed to be the tipping point for him and he grew more quiet and depressed while Ron and Harry were still chatting away about how to improve the training for the other players. They were in the middle of discussing how their Keeper needed to give football practice as a goalie into his repertoire when Neville slammed down his empty glass and drew their attention.
"Why doesn't she like me?" he asked Ron directly. "She barely gave me a chance, then nothing. I've done everything that those girlie magazines say should have her interested and falling for me or whatever. Still, nothing."
Harry looked between Ron and Neville, staying silent. Girl trouble wasn't something he had any experience with.
"Mate," Ron almost whined. "I've asked you not to draw me into the middle of this. It's bad enough that you told me about how you lied and said you had a date with someone else this weekend just to see her reaction."
"That's the thing though. I told your mum about it, she was the one to tell Ginny. I don't know what her reaction was. But you could find out for me!"
Ron's hands went up. "Whoa. No! No way. It was bad enough how you wound up getting me involved at school. I know you're keen on her-"
"Not keen on her, I'm in love with her. And she always looks like she'd ready to run away every time I come into the room."
Harry took a look over his shoulder to see if any other of his new friends and teammates were around so he could go over to their table and give these two some privacy, but it looked like it was later than he'd realized because the pub had nearly emptied out of Cannon's supporters and players and now it was just a usual crowd of locals that had come in for a drink.
Though now seemed like an optimal time to make a new friend. Perhaps that portly fellow at the end of the bar that may as well have had squiggly lines of smell coming off of him could use a new friend?
"What do you want me to say? My sister hasn't every shown interest in anyone that I know of. I wouldn't know how to tell if she liked someone or not," Ron protested.
"Wait a minute," Harry chimed in. "You're in love with his sister?" he asked Neville. Now what Neville had been saying made more sense.
"Yes. Have been for years. I went to a dance with her in my fourth year and I've been a goner every since. She on the other hand. Well, she gave me a chance, but not much of one, then she keeps insisting we be friends and no more."
Harry nodded as though he had complete understanding. "Ever tried the big romantic gesture type thing? You know, sing at her from outside her window, surround her in her favorite type of flowers and profess your undying love, that type of thing?"
"As good as," Neville muttered looking down into his empty glass.
"Whatever you opt to try next, leave me out of it," Ron stated firmly. "You're like a brother to me, but she is my sister."
Neville gave Ron a look like there were wheels turning in his head. "One more time," he pleaded. "One big romantic gesture, like Harry suggested, then I'll be done. Maybe that is what she wants. I've done the knight in shining armor thing, that doesn't work. I've done the 'friend first' thing, that backfired. Let me just once, in one big gesture, tell her flat out that she's it for me and we'll see what happens."
A pained expression covered Ron's face. "Why would I have to get involved in that?"
"Because I need to brainstorm!" Neville exclaimed. "And you," he pointed at Harry. "You can help. Those were good ideas, maybe you've got more of them."
He didn't really have anything else to do, so Harry waved at the bartender to send them another round. This poor bloke was so heartbroken over this girl he couldn't help wanting to lend a hand.
Weird that it was Ron's sister though. Ron wasn't too helpful with the brainstorming except to say what absolutely wouldn't work. Meanwhile Harry kept listing off everything he remembered watching in movies about the guy winning over the girl.
It was strange though. Neville was a war hero and he was working so hard to win over one girl in particular. Harry would have assumed that someone with a story like his would have had women falling all over him. It must have meant this girl was something really special.
There was only one girl he could imagine putting himself through this kind of torture for and he wasn't even sure she really existed.
Two more drinks later and Neville decided he was going to serenade her from beneath her window with a bouquet of her favorite flowers. Ron hung his head in resignation.
"Alright. Let's go do it then," Neville said standing up from the table.
"What, right now?" Ron looked at him like he was crazy.
"Yes. I have to do it before I lose my nerve. You too," he pointed at Harry. "Come with us. If she still decides she doesn't want me you can stop me from drowning myself in their pond."
"Uhh…" Harry wasn't sure what to say. Ron decided for him though when he stood up and grabbed him by under the arm to pull him to his feet as well.
He was grateful they decided to go by Floo, Harry didn't have an Apparation license, his magic wasn't strong enough. With how drunk the two of them were as well he would have wound up splinched for sure if they tried to do Side-Along.
The small living space he found himself standing in not two minutes later looked very cozy, and it was very quiet.
"Okay, she's probably asleep," Ron whispered. "You two go outside. Harry, stay against the house and just make sure that Neville doesn't chicken out. I'm going to go wake her up and get her to look out the window."
As he followed Neville through the kitchen and out the door, Harry couldn't help wondering how he had wound up in this situation. The drink he had in him was helping him just go along with it though. He wasn't exactly falling over drunk, pretty sure that one or two glasses of water and he'd be feeling fine in the morning.
"'K. You stand there," Neville pointed to a spot under one of the windows and stood a few meters in front of him.
Harry watched as Neville took a few deep breaths and shook out his hand. Harry looked around the property. It kind of reminded him of his own property and he wondered how far away his place was from here. He hadn't asked Ron where abouts his house was. The trees and wildflowers were similar. There was the nice country air as well.
A window opened above Harry's head and Neville started into a poor rendition of one of Celestina Warbeck's songs, conjuring up sunflowers by the dozen. It was making Harry cringe, but he was just here for moral support and Neville was doing it, so that was his job done.
"NEVILLE!" a girls voice cut him off, that would likely have been this lovely Ginny. "Neville, what are you doing?" She sounded exhausted and not at all impressed. "We've been over this a hundred times. I'm flattered, but I'm not interested. And I'm really tired of you making me feel like the bad guy. Move on Neville. I need you to so that everyone around me will stop harassing me about this."
Now Harry was cringing even more. Poor Neville, she sounded like she was well and truly at the end of her rope with him over this.
A moment later the window closed and from the amount of light they lost in the yard it looked like she'd drawn the curtains too.
Neville hung his head and let the flowers drop out of his hand. Harry wasn't sure what to say. This was such an uncomfortable situation to be in and he hoped that Ron would be down here soon to take over the consoling.
His own home was only one Floo away and Harry was looking forward to getting there and going to sleep tonight. There was a chance he'd wind up in his dream room again tonight and that was much more appealing than trying to console Neville.
"Mate," Ron said in sympathy to his friend when he got outside.
Neville just sat down where he was and then lay back on the grass.
"Er, Ron?" Harry started in question as to whether it was cool if he took off.
Ron rolled his eyes and nodded towards the Burrow. "I'll catch up with you later."
Trying not to look like he was in a hurry, Harry headed back into the house and made a bee line for the sitting room, seeing a pot above the fireplace that looked like the ideal place to hold Floo Powder he reached for it, then noticed there were a few pictures around.
He was curious to see what this Ginny looked like that Neville was falling all over himself for. There were quite a few pictures of different ginger boys, but then there was a picture of her.
Her!
He was frozen to his spot, his arms going limp at his side as he stared at the smiling face of his dream girl.
Eventually his eyes darted around the room to take in all the other photos that were around and in every other one of them it was his dream girl at various stages of her life.
Ginny Weasley. That was who he'd been visiting in his sleep.
His heart was beating so fast that he could hardly breath and grew dizzy.
She was here. For real. She was just up the stairs.
His feet were taking him to the stairs before he had a chance to think this through. He knew which room should be hers considering where her window was, so all he had to do was climb up two flights and knock on her door.
It seemed like that door simply materialized in front of him with how quickly he found himself standing in front of it. His hand raised up and he swung it back, then stopped and questioned whether he should do this.
If she answered and had no idea who he was, then the illusion would be shattered.
She'd just destroyed Neville's heart a moment ago, she could do that to his as well.
Although, well, it made sense, didn't it? The reason that she wasn't interested in the Chosen One was because of her almost nightly visits to him in their dream room. It could have been because of him that she hadn't shown any interest in anyone else.
Harry prayed that this was the case, then he let his fist continue forward and knock on her door gently twice.
It was only a moment later and she was standing in front of him.
She didn't have a very happy expression on her face when she first opened the door, but the look that came over her when she saw it was him and not someone from her family or Neville. That look, it had to mean that it was real, that she had been visiting that dream room with him for all these years as well.
She blinked at him a few times and her brow furrowed, then she looked around her quickly.
He knew what she was looking for; this was not the place that they usually met. And he grinned.
It had been real for her, just as it had been real for him.
He raised his hand to cup her cheek and she stepped closer to him, staring up at him in wonder. He could hear her breathing. It was quiet and it was slow, but he could hear it. He hadn't been able to hear anything from her before and now he could.
Slowly he lowered his lips to hers and felt a warmth spread out through his entire body.
They'd done this before a hundred times and it had been wonderful and magical every time, but this was that times a million. She was really here in his arms, responding to his kiss with equal building vigor and pulling him even closer to her.
"Ginny," he couldn't help himself whispering her name as his lips travelled down her neck to that spot on her collar that made her tremble with pleasure. And he felt her freeze.
He pulled back and looked down into her wide eyes again. He knew it was because she'd heard his voice.
"Ginny," he said again.
"You're really here," she whispered.
"I'm really here. I can't believe I've actually found you. That you're real." He raised his hand to her forehead and ran his fingers through her hair in the way he knew she liked.
"How? Who?" she started.
A nervous laugh was vibrating through him as he answered, "I'm friends with your brother. I just witnessed that embarrassing display outside. I didn't know it was you he was falling all over himself about. But then I saw your picture when I went to leave."
Ginny turned sharply toward the window and back to him. "You were with Neville and Ron?" she asked, astounded.
He nodded, unable to stop himself from continuing to touch her, running his hands along her side, up her shoulder, down her back and then all over again. She was doing the same to him.
It had been how they greeted each other when the didn't have words and felt so natural to do it now.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Harry," he grinned.
"Harry," she repeated with a big smile of her own.
It sounded even better when she said it.
A noise from outside startled them. It was a splash and Harry vaguely wondered if Neville had actually jumped into the pond.
"Do you have somewhere we can go?" she asked. "There are too many people here."
"Yes," he nodded. "I've got a house."
()()()
They were barely through the grate at his house before she pulled his lips to hers again.
She'd been in a terrible mood when he knocked at her bedroom door, and the sound of the knocking had just made her scowl even more. She'd been trying to slip off into dream world, to her dream room so that she could see him and put the whole Neville incident out of her mind.
Then there he was.
He was in her room. Not their room, but her room.
Then he said her name.
Then he'd told her his name.
Now here they were, in his home where he apparently lived alone.
There were so many questions that she had, but it had been very clear that all those nighttime occurrences of hers were real for both of them; all the trysts, all the cuddles, all the comfort, it had all been real.
They would have time for talking later. Right now, in this moment she just wanted him to touch her and kiss her how he did when they were alone in their room together. But right now she could actually hear his appreciative groans as they both just went at each other.
Again and again they kept saying each other's name between kisses and while their clothes started to pile onto the floor. She pushed Harry back onto his sofa and straddled his naked body with her own. It was all so familiar and so comfortable that the reality of what they were doing and the strange situation they were in didn't come into sharp focus until there was a shock of pain ripping through her body from how she had abruptly lowered herself onto his manhood.
The gasp that rocked through her from the pain had them both pausing.
"Ginny?" he asked with concern.
She could do no more than blink at him in surprise as the pain subsided and she realized what had just happened. "Oh my God," she exclaimed.
"Ginny? What's wrong. What happened?" He looked terrified that he'd done something wrong. But then he made the mistake of moving and causing her to gasp all over again. "Ginny?" he panicked, stilling himself.
"We'd done this so many times in the room, I'd forgotten. It seemed so natural," she got out.
"What? What is it?"
She bit her lip. She didn't know whether to laugh or blush. "I was a virgin," Ginny whispered.
Harry stared at her in wonder again, then making sure to keep his bottom half as still as possible he leaned forward to kiss her gently. "I was as well," he assured her.
It was lovely to know that, like he'd been saving himself for her also, but she didn't know if he quite remembered how gentle she'd needed him to be with her their other first time.
"Harry," she started.
"Take it slow, Ginny," he whispered.
He did remember, she thought happily.
Their first time it had taken a few moments to become accustomed to having his length and girth inside her, once it had though, it had been incredible, and the sex had only gotten better from there.
They kissed again and he hugged her close, he was letting her set the pace as she started riding him tentatively and waiting for it to feel the way she'd grown accustomed to. A minute later she was very much enjoying herself and leaning back, her hands bracing herself on his knees as his own went from gripping her hips to assist with the movements to her breasts and back again.
Again and again his name slipped from her lips, and hers from his until she was screaming it out when her orgasm tore through her.
He flipped her onto her back so she was laying down on the couch and brought one of her legs up and over his shoulder and kept driving himself into her.
Harry had become an expert with her body. After so many years of only being able to read each other's body language she didn't have to tell him how much she was enjoying herself or have him pause before he tried this particular position to make sure it was okay. She also didn't feel weird about bringing her hand between them to play with her clit to help her along to her next orgasm.
Only moments later they were both crying out each other's names and laying together in one tangled, sweaty mess.
"I've always meant to tell you that you're really good at that," Ginny said as she looked up at his ceiling.
"I've always meant to tell you that you're fucking amazing," Harry said back, wriggling down her body a bit to bury his face in her chest, as he usually did.
She chuckled and then hummed in pleasure as he lavished her breasts with attention from the pleasant feelings it gave her.
This was all so incredible; one minute she was yelling at a guy to give up and leave her alone, then next she literally had her leg over another bloke's shoulder as he shagged her senseless on his sofa. Never mind that the other bloke was one she'd been dreaming about for years and constantly trying to tell herself she wasn't in love with.
"What's your surname?" she wondered aloud.
"Potter," he told her.
"Hmm. Harry Potter," she tested out the name.
"What is Ginny short for?" he asked.
"Ginevra."
"Beautiful."
"Why thank you," she said saucily.
Harry rose up onto his elbows and looked down at her. "No, thank you," he said softly as though that was the way he'd meant for her to take it.
"I've been talking myself out of falling in love with you for years," she admitted.
"Same for me with you. I didn't know how it could possibly be real and yet they were still the most meaningful interactions I've ever had."
"I was starting to believe that no one else would ever live up to the high expectations I had because of my relationship with you. Was almost resigned to only being satisfied romantically and physically in my sleep," she admitted.
Harry grinned down at her. "This is all so crazy. It is somehow sudden, and yet not. I'm already wondering which drawers I should empty out for you."
She didn't know how to react to that. Already she felt like they were it. Like there was no question that they would be together forever so figuring out if she should move in should be on the table, then again, to everyone else they had only just met under an hour ago.
"Wouldn't your family have anything to say about a girl you've only just met moving in with you?" She asked it as teasingly as possible but his expression dropped and she knew that had been the wrong thing to say. "Oh. Oh, do you not have…"
He gave her a kiss to assure her it was okay, then he told her his history.
For the next few hours they did nothing but talk and share their stories and plans for the future. He gave her a tour of his home and made them a midnight snack in his kitchen. They wound up in his bed around sunrise wrapped around each other and fell asleep, waking again to the afternoon sunshine lighting up the room.
She nuzzled closer into him, completely content.
"It was real," she heard him whisper to himself as he hugged her closer to himself and then rested back into the mattress again.
"It is," she smiled.
They woke slowly and she borrowed a shirt of his to wear down to his kitchen where they kept smiling at each other and sharing kisses while he pulled some breakfast together for them and she got the coffee going.
Through breakfast they talked and tried to figure out where their relationship was going from there. They both agreed that they were it for each other, which meant telling her family.
Luckily, if that was the word you wanted to use, it was Sunday and that meant it was a family dinner day where all the Weasley's came back to the Burrow for dinner.
Today, Harry would come with her.
Ginny shook her head and regarded him skeptically as he enthusiastically agreed to accompany her. The poor guy didn't know what he was signing himself up for.
Ginny didn't quite know what she was signing the both of them up for.
So far as her family knew she was celibate as a nun with no interest in anyone.
With them waking up so late it was only an hour later that they went back to The Burrow. And after quickly pulling him up to her room before anyone could catch sight of them so she could change, she brought him outside and they walked hand in hand towards the large family table that was set up outside.
"Harry?" Ron was the first to see them and was clearly surprised and confused by his presence. Then he saw how hers and Harry's hands were clasped together. "What?!"
The whole family turned to look at the two of them and fell silent.
Ginny checked to see if Harry was looking ready to bolt, but he was just smiling down at her, completely unconcerned.
"Everyone, this is Harry," Ginny introduced. "My boyfriend."
A few jaws around the table dropped and Ginny didn't blame them.
"Since when?" Ron asked loudly.
Ginny shifted from foot to foot and braced herself, feeling nothing but reassurance from Harry's presence at her side. "Well, here's the thing," she started.
()()()