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Cold Symptoms
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It was times like these she wished she'd taken a lover.
It was a very French concept to her, but to have someone that would come over and take care of her needs, someone to rub her back, or her whole body, give her an orgasm that would put her to sleep, and then be on his merry way.
She was laying in her bedroom with the curtains drawn so it was as dark as possible in the room, trying to trick her body into thinking it was nighttime so she could get a few more hours of sleep and then likely feel ten times better than she currently did.
It sucked having a cold.
Her throat was sore, her nose was red from all the tissues she'd been rubbing against it, and of course she hadn't sprung for the tissues infused with Aloe, or whatever, those were more expensive.
If only she'd foreseen the agony that she would be inflicting on her nose.
Mental note- buy a box of emergency Aloe infused tissues for future instances like this one.
And it didn't matter how much she blew her nose, there was always more snot. It just didn't make sense; where did it all come from?
Two days she'd been holed up in her flat and laying in bed; reading, sleeping, hugging her pillow and letting a small fantasy come to mind that she was actually hugging a man that had come to comfort her in her time of need.
Now she was at the point in her cold symptoms that had her feeling pretty randy.
Always on the third day or so.
She didn't have the energy to take care of her needs herself though, that was why she was craving a lover right now.
She'd had series of casual relationships that always ended with those bridges burned. It was her bloody temper that made sure the match was dropped and the wood on the bridge was dry, then stood back to enjoy the warmth that came from the sense of finality that the relationship was over.
Michael, Dean, Andrew, Mitchem and Cage.
That's right, she'd dated a guy named Cage.
The only man who she didn't have that epic burned bridge moment with was Harry, and that was because neither of them wanted the relationship to end. He had just been doing his usual fucking noble thing again and trying to protect her. And that had been five years ago.
She had hoped that after the war was over that they would be able to slip back into a relationship with each other, but then the Battle of Hogwarts had happened. Harry had fallen into a kind of depression and taken off with Ron and Hermione to Australia to retrieve Hermione's parents while Ginny had stayed home and tried to help the rest of her family as much as she could while dealing with her own grief over the losses of friends and Fred.
Harry hadn't come back with Ron and Hermione though. He'd decided to take some time and stay in Australia.
That time turned out to be a whole year.
She hadn't known when he was coming back though, and he'd never responded to any of her letters. She kept sending them despite that. They were always full of happy or funny anecdotes of what had been going on. Secretly, she'd been trying to tell him what he'd been missing out on, trying to convince him to come home.
But she still never heard from him.
Cue Andrew. He was sweet, he had a sharp sense of humor, and he made her laugh. They were dating for two weeks by the time Harry showed up at The Burrow again. It was to the delight of her family and a heart wrenching shock to her.
Since he'd been back he'd joined up with the Auror department and they had never discussed what they once had. He started dating someone just as she was breaking up with Andrew, and since then had both just never revisited their old romance.
Their three week long romance that was still the fondest memories she had from Hogwarts.
Merlin, she missed him.
They were friends now, but she still felt this pull towards him. She still wanted to scowl at any woman he dated, and she still saw a look in his eye when he met any one of her boyfriends as well.
It was interesting how neither of them dared bring someone they were dating to The Burrow; like it was neutral territory and if they were to bring someone 'home' to meet the family, then they would each be free to throw glib comments at the other.
He was where her mind truly went when she was alone like this. It was him that she pretended she was snuggling as she hugged her pillow.
She hated that they were 'friends', she hated seeing that jealous look in his eye when he met one of her boyfriends. It made her want to scream at him that he'd had his chance. That he could have responded to any of her letters. He could have asked her to wait just a little bit longer for him.
Putting her life on pause for him would have been a weak move, but she'd been so desperately in love with him for so long that it had hurt and she'd needed to try to move on.
And, you know what? He could have said something since he'd gotten back too. Whether they'd each been dating someone else at the time or not.
Though, she too could have said something too.
He might have been the hero of the wizarding world, the Boy-Who-Lived, but she still saw him as Harry, and she was too worried that she might upset the balance by telling him she still loved him like that because there was the chance that it would scare him away from visiting with the only family that he'd ever really known.
Right now though, in the dark of her bedroom, feeling entirely congested and exhausted, she hugged her pillow to her again and pretended that she had had the nerve to tell him she still wanted him, then it might not have been the pillow she was hugging as she managed to drift off to sleep again.
Four hours might not seem like a lot of sleep, but as she awoke four hours later and was able to breathe through both of her nostrils, four extra hours of sleep on the third day had been all she'd needed.
And while breathing through both of her nostrils was great, she now had the ability to tell just how disgusting she smelled.
Three days was too long to go without a shower.
Ginny sat up in her bed, pulled a tissue to her nose and blew. It was a wonderous feeling to be able to blow your nose properly. Her nose still hurt, but it wasn't as bad as it was before.
That task handled she looked around her room, eyes already adjusted to the faint light coming through the cracks in her curtains.
Her room was a mess.
She stood up and started putting all the used tissues into the garbage then stripped the bed and remade it with fresh linens before trundling into her bathroom. She had the washer in there and loaded it up before running the shower.
The steam that was filling the bathroom was helping clear her head even more, and when she stepped under the stream of water it was absolute heaven.
The cold was definitely on its way out of her system now.
The only lingering side effect was that she was still feeling randy.
Ginny chuckled as she washed her hair. It was always that symptom that emerged when she got sick. Maybe it was simply her wanting to feel like she was being 'taken care of'. Or maybe she felt like a good dicking would simply get the last of the cold out of her.
She grabbed the loofa and her Sumatra scented soap and started scrubbing the outer layer of her skin off as best she could, it felt like there had been a layer of sweat and grime on her and this battle of soap and sponge would take care of the lingering contaminants the cold had left on her.
Once done, she stepped out of the shower and wrapped her house coat around her, feeling fresh as a daisy, and headed to her room.
She didn't want to get dressed though, she wanted one more lazy day around her flat, so she took out one of her favorite night dresses, it had the built in breast support and a racer back, ended at her mid-thigh and was a light pink with an incredibly soft feel to the fabric that felt lovely.
From the sound that just emanated from her sitting room though, it looked like her little cocoon was being infiltrated, likely by her mother who was bringing her soup and would be wanting to take her temperature as well.
Ginny looked over through her open bedroom door and into the hallway, wondering whether she should go into the kitchen to prove she was alright, or crawl back into bed and pretend she didn't have the energy to entertain conversation.
Unfortunately, her stomach rumbled as the scent of fresh soup and bread rolls wafted down the hall.
She whimpered in protest to her body's demands.
Then she gave in.
If she showed she was on the mend and grateful, then maybe her mum would just give her a pat on the cheek, make a few comments about her lack of housekeeping skills, and leave her alone.
She padded down the hallway and heard the unmistakable sound of her cupboards being opened and a bowl being removed from her stack.
"You weren't planning on spoon feeding me, were you?" she smirked as she came around the corner.
It wasn't her mum in her kitchen though, it was Harry.
Harry, in a button up shirt with the cuffs rolled up and a pair of jeans. Harry, with his permanently disheveled hair and gorgeous green eyes. Harry, who looked so put together, meanwhile she was fresh from the shower with her hair still not dry and her nose still red and recovering.
He froze with a bowl halfway from her cupboard to the counter and stared at her.
"She… asked if I could…" he started. He had begun with a startled expression, his eyes locked on her own, but then that expression changed and those eyes of his started slowly travelling downward, over her exposed skin and favorite night dress. "Whoa," he whispered.
"Whoa," Ginny responded in kind.
Damn him for looking so good.
And damn her cold for making her think over all the many mistakes they'd both made that led them to continue being 'friends' instead of something more.
Seeing him in her kitchen was making her heart flutter and her body feel warm.
He'd been here before, he'd helped her move in, but it had never been just the two of them.
The last time they had been properly alone was during those three weeks at Hogwarts when they'd spent the majority of their time visiting hidden alcoves and letting their hands and mouths wander.
"I brought you soup," he said in a strangled voice.
He was just as flustered right now as she was, she realized. A slow smile worked its way onto her face. "I can see that."
"Y-your mum asked me to drop it off… because you're sick."
"I'm on the other side of it now, but I… appreciate it," she said, letting her eyes move over him. Letting him catch her eyes moving over him.
"Yeah, you look… good."
"Good enough to spoon feed me then?" she teased.
There was a flush that came to his cheeks and she could have sworn his pupils had dilated a fraction.
"I was hoping that some strapping man would find his way to my flat to take care of me. I'm glad that turned out to be you and not one of my brothers."
He managed to place the bowl down on the counter then and turned his attention to dividing some soup out of the container that he'd been given.
"No other non-ginger men hanging around here lately then?"
"No. I appear to have this wonderful ability to scare them off." She came into the kitchen properly and reached around him to grab a roll, noticing how he stiffened as she got close to him.
"I can't imagine that's always the case."
She swallowed down her first bite of the warm bread. "That's because it takes more than three weeks for me to become truly scary," she told him distractedly before reaching around him to dip her bread in the soup and take her next bite of it.
He moved the bowl closer to her so she wouldn't need to reach around him again. "Or maybe none of them were able to properly appreciate you. Figure out how to reciprocate things and such."
There was an edge to his voice and she remembered all her letters that he'd never responded to. She clenched her jaw at the memory of how hurt she was about that, yet how every month, without fail, she sent him another letter. Until he returned to England, and then they simply never spoke of it.
"Yeah, there's that problem too," she said through her teeth and picked up the bowl of soup to take a sip.
"Or maybe you could just refine your selection process. I never did like your last few… boy-friends."
She shrugged. "In the end, I was of the same opinion. But what else am I left with if I don't at least try? I've done the waiting around for the 'right one' thing, and it made me miserable."
"I made you miserable?!"
It looked like they were done with the games now. He was nearly glaring at her now and his indignation was making her feel indignant as well.
"Yeah, you did," she told him angrily. "I wrote you every month for a year after the war and you never wrote back. I never knew if you were coming back. I know we broke up because you and your friends went on your fucking Voldemort scavenger hunt, but I didn't feel like that had meant we were done forever. And then you come back, to stay, and you never say anything to me."
"You were dating someone! What was I supposed to say?!" he defended.
"ANYTHING!" she yelled. "I'd been dating him for two weeks when you came back. How in the hell was that supposed to have compared to all the years of pathetic pining I did over you before and after we dated, if you can even call it that."
"Of course we can call it that," he scoffed. "That time we had together meant more to me than any of the other relationships I've had since combined."
"Then why didn't you say anything?!" she fumed.
They were standing an inch apart now, if it weren't for the six inches of height difference between them they would have been nose to nose.
"It was never the right time! I was in a miserable hole of darkness after the war, then I came back and you had moved on!"
Ginny scoffed at him. "I never moved on! I was trying to fill my own miserable hole of darkness that you left because you didn't want me anymore!"
"I never said that!"
"You never said otherwise!" she countered.
They glared at each other, each with their fists clenched, and then something gave in Harry's expression and his shoulders lowered, the crease between his eyebrows went away. He stared, surprise and realization coming across his face.
"Does… does that mean that you're… you're still waiting?"
Ginny blinked at him, she blinked several times. How could he not have known?
"The reason those relationships of mine don't last is because they aren't you, okay?" she admitted. "I guess since you won't say anything to put this to rest, then I will. I waited for you. From Dumbledore's funeral through to the Battle, I waited for you. But then, that wasn't enough, you needed time, so I waited some more. I sent you letters and you never responded. For a year I just kept on waiting. Then I stopped sending you letters and try to carry on with my life and you miraculously pop up again. Now it's been three years that you've been back and I still have to lie to myself every time some guy I think I might get on with asks me out and tell myself that you aren't waiting, so why should I?" She could feel her congestions creeping up again, but it wasn't from the cold this time, she was getting too emotional over laying her heart bare for him. "So yes, as much as I hate to admit it, I am waiting for you."
There, she'd said her piece. Now he knew.
"This whole time?" he asked in one breath with an amazed look on his face.
She couldn't tell if it was pity or awe that he was projecting now. Either way, if this was going to be her last chance to tell him how she felt, then it was her turn to surprise him with what could potentially be a world shattering kiss.
She grabbed that creased collar on his button up shirt and brought him down to her as she stretched up onto her toes. From the instant their lips met he was responding to her with equal fervor. They weren't kids anymore, and this wasn't the Gryffindor common room, filled with cheering students and wolf-whistles. They were alone in her kitchen and their romantic experiences with the opposite sex had moved well past gentle touches on exposed skin.
She lost herself in him, letting him know with her whole body that she had been longing for him since the day she'd realized what she felt for him was more than hero-worship. He was Harry, and they belonged together.
Harry nudged her back, leading her towards the closest hard surface, which was the counter. "I never stopped wanting to be with you," he murmured as his kisses traveled down her jaw and to her neck. He hoisted her up so she was sitting on top of the counter, and his lips continued their path south. "I hated your boyfriends," he growled. His one hand was now on her breast and kneading her there.
Ginny groaned happily at the sensation. "Your girlfriends were never going to be right for you." She wrapped her bare legs around him and tugged him closer, leaning back against the cupboards so he could still kiss her chest.
"I wanted them to be you. I missed you. I would dream about you. And I'm so sorry," he started.
"We'll talk later," she cut him off. "Take me to the bedroom."
"What?" he asked.
She opened her eyes and saw a distant look in his own. "Do you... not want to?" she asked. He seemed so surprised. She could feel him stirring in his jeans, but the look in his eyes was telling her he had an internal monologue weighing the pros and cons of complying to that request. "Don't make me beg," she pleaded, reaching between them to undo his belt.
His lips crashed back to hers and he tugged her closer, forcing her to let go of his belt and wrap her arms around his neck instead. He carried her down the hallway to her bedroom, and she was now so glad she had changed the sheets and cleaned up some before her shower.
She was so glad she'd had a shower.
"I like this nightie of yours," he told her, now laying on top of her and running his hand up her thigh.
Ginny worked at his buttons and together they freed him of his shirt, then of his jeans. She heard him muttering the charm before he shed his pants as well.
Her breath caught when he came to lay on top of her again. She'd imagined this so many times, wondering what he would look like naked, and she wasn't disappointed. As he kissed her he tugged up on her dress until they worked it over her head. He kept murmuring her name as he planted kisses all over her body.
It was a great lead up to the point when her legs were hooked around him again, this time with no barriers to stop them, and he gently eased his way inside her. They both groaned in appreciation of the feeling.
She felt like it had been ages since she'd been this satisfied, and they had only just started.
He rocked into her at a slow and steady pace, their lips remaining connected the whole time. "I've missed you so much," he panted.
She knew what he meant. They'd seen each other at least once a week for the past three years, but they'd been cordial. They'd had their guards up around each other. She had missed him too.
She missed his kisses and the way he'd looked at her during those wonderful three weeks at the end of her fifth-year, like she was all he needed to be happy. She wanted him to be happy, and she wanted to be the one to make him happy. Right now, he was happily sliding in and out of her as she clutched at his hips and met him movement for movement. She wanted the moment to drag on forever, but she also desperately wanted to cum.
"Grind into me," she pleaded and let out a loud groan as he complied. Having him fully sheathed inside her and stimulating her clit was sending her closer to the edge. She opened her eyes to look at him. It was the first time she didn't have to imagine that it was him she was partnered with.
He had his eyes closed in concentration, his brow furrowed and a sheen of sweat already breaking out on his forehead. She felt her muscles beginning to contract and he must have felt it too, because his eyes also opened.
His beautiful green eyes. She stared at them for as long as she could before her orgasm overtook her and her head tilted back, crying out his name, because, for the first time, she could.
He kept up his movements, letting her ride out the orgasm for as long as she could, before she relaxed back onto the mattress, then he changed up the tempo.
"I've wanted to hear you say my name like that for five years," he admitted to her in a low voice as he went back to thrusting properly inside her.
Ginny gave him a demure smile and leaned up to catch his lips again. "I've wanted to scream out your name like that for seven years."
His thrusts grew harder then and Ginny nearly purred at the satisfaction she was feeling by being taken like this by him.
"Ginny," he said her name in warning.
She grinned against his lips. "Yes," she moaned back at him.
A moment later he let out a loud groan and his thrusts became more like jerks and twitches as he rode out his own finish, then he became still and hugged himself to her.
Ginny felt like a satisfied puddle of goo with his weight on top of her.
Eventually, he rolled over to lay beside her, intertwining his fingers with hers and hugging her close. Ginny smiled into his chest.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Sorry that we could have been doing that for years and we missed out?"
He kissed her forehead and hugged her tighter for a moment before relaxing again. "Yes. I was being stupid and I should have written you back, even once. I was depressed though, and I didn't realize how bad it was until I was out the other side of it."
"I thought you might have been. You're okay now?"
"I will be, if you'll be my girlfriend again."
Ah, the magic word. As if the sex wasn't satisfying enough, now she had an extra warmth wash over her at him asking her that.
"If you can go and get that soup for me, I promise I'll say yes," she teased.
His chest vibrated against her cheek as he chuckled. "I guess it's the least I could do."
She watched him climb out of bed and followed his naked bum as it left the room.
They still had a lot to talk about, but at least now they had this part cleared up completely.
Unfortunately, what hadn't cleared up completely was her congestion, as a massive sneeze attack took over her once more before he'd come back into the room.
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