AN- Prompt provided by J. Jamie Dupane. Basic premise is; Harry goes to library a shy lonely guy and comes out in love with a sassy hot redhead, Muggle AU, Hermione had something to do with them meeting.
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Curator Conspiracy
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Saturday night in a resort town.
It meant that there were plenty of places that one could go for a pint and find happenings about town. There was a Casino down by the waterfront and nice old-fashioned trolley car that had late service running to Plymouth, where there were even more night life options.
It was what most people were doing right then. Most people that weren't academics.
Well, okay, most people that were academics too. That was just the lie that he told himself.
The other professors that he worked with loved to tie one on on the weekends. He'd been invited to several dinner parties and social outings that involved heavy drinking and bitching about the students and parents they had to put up with at the boarding school where he worked. He just wasn't one that would opt to go out and tie one on unprompted. It was always at someone else's insistence.
He'd been making more of an effort though; to head out instead of staying in his one-bedroom flat.
One bedroom flat, plus den.
When he'd been looking at flat's in the area, the 'den' part was supposed to be what really sold the place. It already had a sitting room though, and it was just him. It wasn't like he needed to have yet another room to escape to.
What had really attracted him to live in that flat was the walkability. He could easily get from the school to Tesco and home in under twenty minutes. He didn't need a car at all to get around either, it was close to the train station in the middle of town.
His godfather, Remus, had been the one to really start nagging him about needing to get out and experience more that the town had to offer. Remus wasn't exactly a party person, he was a professor as well, in Exeter, not too far away. Remus was nicely settled down, but still went out on the town with his wife and had an active social life.
It wasn't that Harry was anti-social, he was just reserved. And he was always finding things to keep himself busy.
He'd promised though, at New Years, he'd promised that at least once a week he would go out and talk to someone that was not a work acquaintance. And he'd followed through on that promise. It was the middle of April now and once a week he would either go to the Torquay Library or to watch a football match at Snape's Pub.
The library might not seem like the place to go to strike up a conversation, but they did have events there sometimes. People just associate the library with a stuffy place full of books and stern-faced librarians that shush you for having too loud a tread, but the Torquay Library wasn't like that. They had authors that came in regularly to do readings in the events rooms, there were information sessions and workshops and the books that they had available for lending weren't just Shakespeare and reference books either. Hermione, the regular librarian, was really nice too and she'd suggested several books that she thought he'd enjoy, and he had.
He'd held several conversations with her, they had a lot of common interests to carry on about; geography, history, world news. She didn't care for sports though, but she was a lovely person and he enjoyed their chats.
She'd suggested he read Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand, something he probably should have read before he was twenty-five but hadn't picked up due to it's intimidating length. He was two weeks overdue with returning it as well. Again, it had an intimidating length. The copy he'd borrowed was 1069 pages long! With really tiny printing. And it had started off so slow. It wasn't until he was nearly 300 pages in that he started really getting into it.
He pulled open the door to the library and held it open for an elderly couple that was just leaving. Harry loved how late the library was open in the evening on the weekends. He could accomplish everything that he wanted to get done on his Saturday such as home projects and grading assignments and still make it there in time. If there weren't any events going on that held his interest he would get there around eight and peruse or chat with Hermione until when it closed at nine.
His overdue book in hand he went up to the counter. There was no one there though.
It wasn't a large library, he took a look around at the rows of shelves, leaning back against the check-in desk and heard the wheelie cart move behind the counter.
He braced himself for some comment from her, looking down at the book in his hand. "Well, at least now I know who John Galt is," he said with a small laugh, turning around and looking up. It was the last thing he was able to say before his heart stopped.
He was sure he'd just died. That or there was something laced into his evening tea. Visions like this gorgeous woman he was now looking at didn't simply appear before someone with out something like that happening. Pale, yet sun kissed skin, full pink lips, beautiful deep brown eyes, a smattering of freckles on her cute nose. And that hair, it was red and brown and golden, mostly red.
His tongue felt two sizes too big, and he was sure that if he didn't close his mouth soon then he would actually start to drool. He's been attracted to other women before, but not like this.
He saw her lips move and there was a twinkle in her eyes as her left eyebrow cocked upwards. She was beginning to smile. It was a beautiful smile. One of her bottom teeth was a little crooked, but that just made her smile all the more unique.
But then she tilted her head to the side and reality came crashing back down around him and his brain caught up with it.
"What? S-sorry?" he asked, "could you repeat that?"
"I said, he was the creator of the motor that stopped the world," the goddess told him, gesturing at the book. "She made me read that one too."
Right, the book. He pried his eyes away from her and back down at the book in his hand. He was supposed to hand it over to her. Not her though. She wasn't the librarian. He looked back up at the goddess. "Where's Hermione?"
"Needed the night off for something," she told him. "Don't worry, I'm only covering for your girlfriend tonight. Doing her a favor."
"What? No! She's not my girlfriend. I don't have a girlfriend," he sputtered.
"It's okay," she leaned on the counter to get closer to him, looking as though they were conspiring over something and lowering her voice. "She told me about you," she looked him up and down. "At least, I'm sure it was you. Young, fit, messy black hair and lovely green eyes. Don't get too many 'tall, dark and handsome's' in here."
He was horrified. Hermione can't have had an interest in him like that. He hadn't given her any indication that he might be interested in her like that. She was a pretty enough girl, but he was sure that she already had a boyfriend too. She'd mentioned someone named 'Ron' a few times.
"I don't know what she told you, but I'm not… we're not," he was shaking his head. "Doesn't she already have a boyfriend?"
She broke into a grin and started giggling at how flustered he was. "Good to know. I'll take that book from you now though," she held her hand out.
"What just happened?" he was so confused. He raised up his arm with the book in it automatically at her gesture. As she reached out, he caught a reflective glint off the name tag that was showing on her blouse. It said 'Hermione', but this girl was no Hermione.
"I was vetting you," she told him. "Hermione asked me to cover the last few hours of her shift so that she could have a romantic evening with her actual boyfriend. My brother. Can't blame me for making sure she isn't stepping out on him. Don't care how much of a good and lovely person she is, there is something about the 'sexy librarian' that get's the guys going." She gave him a wry smile.
Harry's brain stopped working properly again as he pulled up the memory of having watched that particular porno when he was a teenager. He couldn't help picturing this sexy librarian slowly taking off her non-existent glasses and lowering her voice to tell him just how overdue his book was.
"Are you flirting with me?" he found himself asking. It wasn't that it hadn't ever happened before that a female had been brazened and made her interest known, but he wasn't the best at picking up on it. This angel from heaven had called him 'fit' and said he had gorgeous eyes and given him that smile. But he had to ask to be sure.
"Yes," she smiled. "And now is when you are supposed to flirt back so I don't feel like an idiot."
"I'm crap at that," he admitted instantly.
"Let's pretend you aren't though," she rested her palms on the counter and leaned forward a little keenly. "What would you say?"
"Uh, can I have your number?" he took a shot in the dark.
She snorted, "you don't care what my name is? Just want my number?"
"Right! Probably would be the thing to ask first," he blushed.
There was something so open about her expression. The way she was meeting his eye was making him both flustered and yet comfortable. He was not at all prepared for an interaction like this. It had been a while since he'd attempted flirting and ages more since he'd had a steady girlfriend.
"Does she normally give you suggestions?" she asked, holding up his returned book before scanning it back into the computer and putting it on the cart behind her.
"Yeah, sometimes," he nodded.
"Well then, let me take a look at what you've been reading and see if I can think of something for you," she turned her attention to the computer in front of her. "Wow, Harry Potter, you seem to be quite the reader. And you don't just stick to one genre, that's nice. Means you're open to all sorts of ideas," she winked at him.
He caught her eyes traveling down him again, settling on his hand before looking back at the screen in front of her. He hoped she wouldn't be offended if he returned the favor. Giving her body a proper once over he could tell that she had rather the athletic form. Her jeans were nice and snug and the shirt she had on under her blazer was showing a small strip of skin just above her belt line. That shirt was rather flattering in how it hugged her, particularly the upper portion.
"Have you read Steven King? The Shining, in particular?"
He shook his head, "I've seen the film though."
Her eyes flashed with excitement for a moment, "but the book is so different. There's only so much that cinematography can capture. The build of the suspense is so much more when it takes three full pages to get to it. Actors can only portray so much emotion, but writers, they can describe the anxiety protagonists feel to the point of you feeling it as well. It's a completely different experience to read it."
"You seem to feel strongly about this," he commented. Her enthusiasm for the books was something she had in common with Hermione, he'd give her that.
"If there's a story that's been adapted to film I'll generally read it first before watching. The book is always better," she shrugged.
"Are you actually a librarian?" he asked.
"Um," she bit her lip. "No. Strictly speaking, Hermione could probably get in a lot of trouble for doing this, but it's a, ah, special night."
Harry's brow furrowed. "Is it her birthday, or an anniversary or something?" he guessed.
"No. Just, I'm pretty sure that she's about to become my sister-in-law," she grinned.
"Oh! And yet you were still vetting me to make sure she wasn't stepping out?" he chuckled in disbelief.
There was a lovely pink tinge that came to her face then. It looked good on her. "Right. Well, that was kind of a lie. I may have actually known who you were when you came in here. My friends and family have sort of," she broke out in a full-on blush, "taken it upon themselves to, if they meet a nice bloke in their day to day," she continued letting him take inference.
Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. Hermione had been chatting him up to this beautiful specimen? Surely she had her pick of men, why on earth would her friends and family be keeping an eye out for suitors for her.
"Well, they pester me incessantly, really," she admitted, trying to pass it off as a simple conversation piece. "It's rather grating to be honest."
"Hermione's been trying to set you up? With me?!" he hadn't seen this coming at all. He wasn't sure there was anything in his conversations with Hermione that would have led him to believe she wanted him to meet her potential future sister-in-law.
Nothing that he could remember anyhow.
"She doesn't mean any harm," she shook her head with a soft smile and turned back to the computer. She appeared a little more reserved now that she'd admitted that to him. "So, where did that leave us with The Shining? There's also this really interesting book called 'The 100 Most Influential People Who Never Lived'. It's a great read, all about how The Marlborough man and certain television characters shaped how we think as a society." She looked back up at him, biting her lower lip.
He was still lost for a moment. She brought up that he'd been offered as a potential dating type person, she was clearly single, so did that mean that he was supposed to make a move here? Ask her out?
"Harry?"
"Yes?" he blinked at her. Right, she'd asked a question. "Yes. Um, that second one does sound really interesting. Might give that a try before The Shining, since I already know how that one ends."
"Great. I enjoyed it! Liked how it was only a few pages on each important figure so I could fit in a chapter during breaks and such." She consulted the computer one more time. "There's a copy just over there," she said coming around the counter to show him where to find it on the shelf.
He couldn't resist watching the way she walked. It was purposeful, determined.
"You never actually told me your name," he realized.
"You never actually asked," she retorted with a cheeky grin over her shoulder.
He gave a chuckle, "you know, it's funny. I was just teaching a class yesterday about using proper wording. Going over ramifications stemming from not being careful what you asked for. Sort of along the lines of 'be careful what you wish for' and getting the kids to write down something they wished for, then coming up with all the things that could potentially go wrong from them getting that wish."
She stopped at the shelf she had been looking for and turned back to him then, "sort of like, if you wished to be lush and powerful it could mean that you wind up being a Mafia Don, or a Cocaine Smuggler."
"Exactly!" he grinned. "Of course, I would hope that the twelve-year-old's I teach would come up with some more down to earth wishes and consequences than that, but it is essentially what they'd all said."
"Alright, well, give me a minute and I'll think of something a little more adult," she joked, pulling the book out for him.
He could think of several of his adult wishes right then that could use fulfilling. He took the book from her, their hands touching ever so slightly in the exchange. There wasn't any great spark that happened when their skin made contact like you read about in romance stories, but at least now he could say he'd been touched by an angel.
"What is your name?" he pressed.
"Why?" she asked teasingly, tilting her head to the side ever so slightly. It was like she was encouraging him to play a little game with him of twenty questions.
"You know mine; shouldn't I get to know yours?" he raised an eyebrow at her in humor. He'd play this game with her. There was only so much time left before the library closed. That was quite a lot of questions they could get through.
"But what good would just my name do you?" she challenged.
"You're right, you should give me your number as well," he stated.
She giggled softly, "there. You do know how to flirt."
"Didn't say I couldn't, just that I was crap at it," he admitted.
"Ginny," she told him. "It's short for Ginevra. And no, I'm not a librarian by trade."
She was distracted by the sound of the bell that was on the counter by the check-out. Straightening up she hurried around him, letting her hand run down his arm as she went passed.
Ginny. That was a nice name. A common name like Natalie or Sarah or something wouldn't have suited her, but Ginevra, that was a name that was more unique.
He watched as she assisted an older gentleman with checking out his books. She chatted with him easily as they made the exchange, her smile pleasant and her overall body language being relaxed and airy.
Hermione had wanted them set up. That was a revelation. It meant that he'd already passed some kind of bar that had been set by her friend. Sort of like there was this hurdle that he'd already crossed to let her know that he wasn't some creep off the street.
It wasn't often that he came across beautiful witty single women his age. And if Hermione wanted to set him up with her then that would mean that there was more about Ginny than just her startlingly good looks. He liked what he knew about her so far; she could flirt, she preferred books over movies, she'd cover for a friend so that they could have a lovely night out with their beau.
She glanced back over at him, giving him a smile just for him before turning back to the gentleman she was assisting and wishing him a good evening.
He went up to the counter. "Suppose I should check this out then."
"Did you have to head out?" she asked, looking put out.
He was unsure what to do, "well, I just-"
"Thought you might like to stay and keep me company. There's only another twenty minutes before the library closes, and no one else in here. My options are to either chat with you or play Solitaire on this computer."
"I win out against Solitaire?"
She opened her mouth to say something but stopped herself and more color came to her cheeks. "Yes," she nodded.
His eyes narrowed at her and turned his head slightly in query, "what was it you stopped yourself from saying?"
She shook her head, "just. Just something about, um, playing with yourself." She bit her lip hard in a grimace. "Sorry, it's just, I have six brothers," she explained, "conversation always turns rather raunchy and it is simply my default."
"You have six brothers?" he asked astounded, moving right passed the 'playing with yourself' bit. The thought of someone who looked like her 'playing with herself' was dangerous for him to do in public.
"Yeah. I'm the only girl," she sighed.
"Well, tell me what that was like," he pulled up a chair so they could sit down across from each other and chat until it was time to leave.
The conversation flowed easily between the two of them. She was the youngest of seven and currently working as an Event Coordinator at a swanky country club just outside of Torquay. She'd moved to this side of the country after a string of bad luck near London and was staying with Ron and Hermione.
He told her about working at the boarding school and how his Godfather was the one that got him interested in becoming a professor. He'd been with the school for two years now and thus far his pupils hadn't started an insurgency against him.
At one point he'd got her laughing so hard that she reached out and grasped his hand while she gathered herself back together. It felt lovely, her hand in his.
"So, I need to lock up now," she told him as the hour drew close. "But I really would rather not head back to Ron and Hermione's until late. Just in case they're, you know, celebrating too loudly?"
"Oh, no. Completely understand," he said eagerly. If they could continue carrying on like this that'd be great. "The weather was quite nice on the way here. Would you like to go for a walk? Maybe grab a drink?"
"Yeah," she grinned.
"The bad luck," he started after she'd bolted the doors shut, "back in London, care to elaborate? Was it simply vocational?"
"No," she said sadly. "As these kinds of stories always do, it involved a man."
"Thus the reason that your friends and family are now trying to find you one?"
"That's right. Can't trust me to find a nice one myself. My mum and dad were pushing me towards a landscaper they dealt with when they re-did their garden."
"Burly and tanned?"
"Bumbling and shy actually," she corrected. "He was darling, but there was nothing there."
"What about your brothers?" he asked. "Any of them throwing their mates at you?"
Ginny snorted, "no. They curse their mates if any one of them ever make a comment or attempt though."
"None of them worthy then?" he laughed.
"So few are," she dramatized by tossing her hair over her shoulder.
"I believe it," he said seriously.
"Hey," she stopped and took his hand to stop him as well.
He turned to face her, curious about why they were stopping and worried he'd said something wrong. She took a step closer to him, pulling on his hand a bit so he had to come closer to her as well. Then her lips were on his. It was soft and sweet and warm and it didn't last nearly long enough before she pulled back.
"You are a nice guy, aren't you?"
"I try to be," he said softly, not quite believing that just happened.
"Good," she stepped back. "I just wanted to get that out of the way."
He grinned at her. She kissed him. She was bold, which was perfect because he was certainly not and would have had her waiting a rather long time if he was to be the one to make the first move.
"How about that drink then?" he suggested.
"I'd like that," she nodded and they carried on down the way. "It's nice to get out of the house. I've only been leaving for work and family functions lately. Kept waiting for the weather to turn nice."
"What would you have done after covering for Hermione? Simply barred the door to your room with enough supplies for this evening and tomorrow?"
"Probably," she shrugged. "I'd have swiped Ron's dvd collection and a bag of crisps then hole up watching CSI or TopGear or something."
"You know, I never thought I'd be interested in a car show, but that one really caters to all types, doesn't it?"
"You like it?" she asked brightly.
"I do. Even have the special's on disc." He hesitated. "I've, erm, got some becks and a bottle of red back at mine," he offered. "Probably shouldn't take this to the pub on a Saturday night," he added, clutching the lended book and hoping that the feeble excuse might be enough to convince her that his want of being alone with her wasn't entirely for that sole purpose.
"Hmm, but what have you got in the way of nibbles?" she asked wryly. "Can't watch an hour and a half long special without something to munch on."
"I've," he thought back to his sparse fridge and bare cupboards. He'd been mostly eating take away or ramen. "We're close to Tesco," he finished hopefully.
"Let's do it," she grinned.
"Now," he started once they were in the brightly lit grocers, "are you the cheese and crackers type, or crisps? Please don't tell me you aren't simply looking for carrot sticks," he joked.
"No to the carrot sticks, I wouldn't mind cheesy bread sticks though," she picked up a clear bag with six of the doughy items.
"Girl after my own heart," he grinned.
"I must say, this far exceeds my expectations for the evening," Harry told her as they got back out onto the street with a bag full of everything that had caught their interest. Ginny was rather fun to shop with. He'd picked up a box of crackers and she'd swiftly exchanged it for another type explaining why his initial brand was inferior. He'd scoffed and put both options in his basket stating that they'd just have to see which one was inferior by trying both. It was the same way with the cheeses and the deli meats. It was enjoyable squabbling. They were getting along fabulously. His knot in his belly about having her come back to his was slowly loosening with ever smile, every word, every twinkle in her beautiful brown eyes that was directed at him.
"Can I just ask?" he started as they drew closer to his. "I know you said Hermione was chatting me up to you, but… we did just meet. And now you're okay with coming back to my flat."
"You're wondering if I do this often?" she asked wearily, a sad frown forming on her lips.
"No," he assured her. "I'm more just wondering why it is you seem so alright with the whole thing."
There was a tenseness that released from how she'd been holding herself. "Oh," she blushed, "I. I kind of feel like I already know you. Like we didn't just meet. I may have looked you up."
"What?" he asked in surprise.
"Yeah, it's just. Hermione knows what I might like better than my brothers or parents and she'd been getting to the point of nagging. So, I looked you up."
"What- what did you find?" he wondered. He can't have had much of an online presence. He didn't even have a Facebook account.
"Well, there was your picture on the boarding school website," she said first. "And your short biography with where you went to school and the volunteer work you'd done."
"So, you really did know exactly who I was when you first saw me." He couldn't believe it; she'd looked him up. She saw his picture and liked what she saw.
"Have I just made things too weird?" she worried and stepped back. "You know, I could just head back to my place." She started to turn around.
"What? No! I don't want you to go anywhere," he instinctively reached out and pulled her closer with his free hand. "I promise you, I'm pleasantly surprised, that's all."
"Really?" she asked weakly.
"Really. Ginny, you're beautiful," he told her with a blush. "I'm amazed really. I was at a complete loss for words when I first saw you because of it. And you've become even more appealing as the nights gone on."
Her own cheeks were tinting pink as she stepped even closer to him. "So, it is just your flirting that you're crap with. Because you seem to have flattery down perfectly."
He was the one to move forward this time, lowering his lips to hers and pressing her close to him with his free arm. She sighed against his lips as she kissed him back. The cadence of their kiss built slowly and he was in absolute bliss. She fit perfectly against him, her arms around his neck as she allowed the kiss to deepened further.
It had been a long while since he'd had the pleasure of a woman in his arms though and he knew he needed to step back and collect himself before he got too excited. He pulled back slightly, not breaking their contact yet, just taking his time to slow it back down. They were on the street after all.
"Mine's just a block ahead," he whispered.
"Perfect."
"This is a great location," she commented when he let her into the flat. She kicked her shoes off, adding them to his extra's and asked with her eyes if she could take a look through the space on her own.
He nodded her further into the flat and went to the kitchen to put the food together in a presentable manner. "The walkability was one of the main reasons I wanted the space," he told her. "Was it a Beck's or wine you were interested in?"
"I'll start with a Beck's please," she called back. "You've a good-sized loo in here. The building can't be too old. That or they renovated not long ago." She came into the kitchen and took the beer he offered her. "I've been keeping my eye open for a flat like this one available. There really isn't much in the area, just rooms for let."
He nodded in understanding, "was a stroke of luck my getting this place. And it was for purchase actually. Don't think I could have found a place like this for let."
"You own it?" she asked in surprise.
"Um, yeah," he replied. Torquay was a rather lush area and even his small flat would have been well out of price range for most their age, particularly it being just him. The only reason he could afford it was because of the money his parents left him, not exactly ideal 'date' conversation.
She must have gauged his unwillingness to get into it. "Making sure there is equal portions of the competing brands, aren't you?" she looked over his shoulder at the plate he was assembling and changing the subject.
"Don't worry, I'll make you try just as much of my superior brand as I have to try of your inferior," he chided.
"Be sure you do," she rolled her eyes. "Which special is it we're watching then?" she asked, glancing over to the sitting room and doing a double take, eyes darting around the room. "Um, Harry? Where's your telly?"
"Oh," he blushed, not having thought of that before. "It's, erm. See, I usually only switch it on for something to watch before bed," he tried to explain.
Her eyebrows went up, but she didn't seem taken aback by what he was telling her. "Alright then," she told him slowly in near a whisper, seeming nervously excited at the new information.
"Right. Um, actually. If you don't mind, could you just finish adding a few things to the plate and I'll…" he was growing flustered. "I just think I might need to tidy up a bit."
She grinned at him, "don't expect company over for watching things often?"
Their eyes locked again, he hoped his weren't broadcasting just how much he was looking forward to having her in his bed, even if it was just for a bit of telly watching. "No," he admitted.
There was a pleased glow that came about her at that and it made his own skin tingle to see it. She came forward and took the knife from his hand to keep cutting up bits of cheese for them. He tried not to fumble too much in his hurry. He'd need to quickly change the sheets and toss some of the items scattered around the room into the laundry basket, he'd worry about sorting it all later.
He kept the place fairly tidy, but not 'female company' tidy. And it had been over a week since he'd last changed the sheets. He took a big inhale as well to see if there was any kind of smell that didn't normally register to him in the space and wondered if she'd think he was being forward if there was a lit candle. He had one that smelled like a mocha and was pleasant.
In the back of the top shelf of his closet though there was an air freshener spray that smelled of apple spice. He fished around for it and gave the air two spritzes. That'd have to do, anything more and it might overwhelm them.
He searched through his dvd collection after getting the sheets dealt with and found the TopGear Winter Olympics Special and got the electronics started up for their viewing.
"All set? Or do I need to give you another moment?" she asked cheekily.
"Um," he took another quick look around. It all seemed to be in order. "Yeah, good."
She came in holding their two beers in one hand and the plate of food in the other. She was chuckling at him. "If it only took you that long to tidy up then you didn't have nearly the mess my room currently does."
"You say that, but I'll kindly ask you not to check what all I've just chucked in the hamper," he told her in jest as she settled herself against the pillows. He couldn't help appreciating the sight of her on his bed before he settled in beside her, now wishing he'd gone for something smaller than a Queen; that way they'd have been stuck closer together.
"Norway episode?" she asked, gesturing at the opening menu displaying on the telly.
"Norway," he nodded and clicked for the remote to start it.
They made it to the halfway point of the show by the time the food was done with and he'd needed to pause it to get them both another drink. They'd chatted and laughed intermittently during the first half over what antics had gone on. She'd told him of her limited travels and he of his.
Coming back to the bed after their break she was shifting around slightly more than she had been.
"Are you uncomfortable?" he asked.
"It's just these jeans. Not really made for lounging around," she told him.
He swallowed hard, "I could get you a pair of sleep shorts," he offered.
He watched as her eyes seemed to go darker while she thought over his offer. "If you don't mind," she said.
He paused the show again and went to his dresser, pulling out his smallest pair of shorts, hoping, yet not, that they wouldn't simply fall over her hips.
"Thanks," she slipped off to the loo to change into them, taking a bit longer than should have been necessary for the wardrobe change.
He'd taken the opportunity to shed his own trousers, hesitating over whether he should keep on his boxers before shedding them as well and dropping them in the hamper, and pulled on pajama pants.
Harry was settled back against the pillows again when she came in with her jeans folded in one hand, and the other at the side of the shorts to keep them up. "Not exactly the perfect fit," she grinned with a blush, "but they're much more comfortable."
They came down to her mid-thigh, he was glad then that he'd opted to get under the blanket now that he was seeing her wearing his clothes. She had great legs, and the cotton on those shorts was rather thin. He wondered if he'd have offered her a shirt of his if she'd simply wear only that and lose the shorts.
Ginny followed his lead and climbed under the blanket as well, moving closer against him. They each grabbed for their bottles and cheers'd before he restarted the show. He moved his arm so that it was around her shoulders. "Is this alright?"
She snuggled in closer to him, "yeah."
He tried to focus on the show, but all he could think about was how her side was pressed up against his and how warm she was. She smelled good too, and the skin under his fingers was soft. He didn't realize he was stroking it until she sat up and set her beer back down on the nightstand, taking his out of his hand too.
"I'm not really interested in the show anymore," she told him.
"No?" he blinked at her, worried she was about to get up and leave.
"No," she moved back against him, her eyes not leaving his.
Oh. She wasn't interested in the show anymore. Her hand came to his chest and she pulled him to her, their mouths meeting and he let out a groan as they pressed their bodies together. They didn't start off slow this time, she was diving right in and he was falling into it right after her. They were a tangle of arms and legs as he lay her down.
She felt marvelous against him and his body was acting instinctively with her encouraging sighs against his lips and wandering hands. Her small hand at his lower back was traveling upwards and massaging the muscles there, he groaned at the feeling of it and rutted against her. She gave a delighted shiver and wound her legs around him tighter as their kiss deepened.
Their tongues met tentatively at first and then more confidently. His lips broke apart from hers only to trail down her jaw and neck to her collar. This time it was she that rocked against him. His hand came up over her shirt and he grasped at her breast, desperate to get a proper feel of it under the cloth, to put his mouth against it and suck a hard nipple into his mouth.
He didn't want to push though, but any exposed skin must be fair game, right? Right. He shifted down her body and to the 'V' point in her shirt to bury his face in her cleavage as she arched her back encouragingly. He wove his hand under her bum and gave it a squeeze. Her arse cheek was the perfect size to cup completely with his fingers splayed out.
Again, she rocked against him, her hot center pressed against his belly and radiating the warmth of it, which cascaded out through his whole body.
"Could you please take your shirt off?" he all but begged before he kissed the top of her breasts. They were so soft.
"Bra," she compromised immediately in a breathy voice.
He pulled back from her, watching with fascination as she maneuvered herself around and quickly released the catch on her bra and slid the straps down both her arms to pull it the item out the front of her shirt, tossing it to the ground. It was done with remarkable speed, something only a seasoned hand could do. Then she was pulling his shirt over his head and bringing him back down to lay with her.
Her legs wound around him again as their mouths met once more. They devoured each other as his hand ran up the underside of her thigh, slipping under the sleep shorts. She didn't want to remove her shirt, which was fine, but he didn't know if that meant no touching under their clothes.
She arched her back again, throwing back her head and groaning as his fingers brushed against her sex. "Harry," she panted and thrust herself against him.
It was music to his ears. He wanted to give her pleasure and make her say his name over and over again. Wanted to use his mouth on her, have her use her mouth on him. Take her completely.
But he would do with rocking against her and rubbing her over her knickers until she said so.
Her hands found his arse and she encouraged him to move against her in time with his fingers. It was too difficult to maintain that position though. Concentrating on that was taking away from the experience. He pulled his hand away, settling himself more securely against her middle and grasped at her breast, rubbing his thumb over her pert nipple, his tongue tracing circles against her neck, wishing it was on her breast then instead.
"Under," she panted.
"Under?"
"I want your hand under my shirt," she moaned.
In a flash he dove his hand under her shirt and palmed her breast hard in his eagerness. He could feel how hot she was growing as they ground themselves against each other. She whimpered at the feel of his hand properly against her flesh and grasped him by the hair to pull his mouth against hers.
Her other hand came between them and she seized him through his pants.
He let out a groan at the feel of her hand on him. He grabbed at her wrist and pinned it to the bed beside her head. "You're going to make me embarrass myself if you do that again."
She kept rutting against him. "Needed to adjust," she panted, "going to embarrass myself soon."
"Oh fuck," he crushed his lips to hers and moved against her more determinedly, his erection sliding along her clit as she twirled her hips with his forward and back movements.
Her breath was coming out in short desperate gasps as his climax drew nearer. With an almighty groan from her and a new rush of warmth against the underside of his cock he knew she'd just cum. His arm wove under the small of her back as he held her hard against him, thrusting unwaveringly until his own finish shot through him.
He collapsed on top of her as his body relaxed. His head was spinning. "That was," was all he managed to say.
She shifted slightly under him. He realized he might have been crushing her, and rolled to his side, pulling her with him. He would have fallen asleep immediately had he not been able to feel the uncomfortable mess he'd just made.
"That was," she repeated his words contently as she cuddled beside him.
He enjoyed the last bit of pleasure that his orgasm allowed, letting his head get back on right before kissing her forehead and sliding out from the bed to clean himself up in the loo.
He finished up quickly and went to the hallway as she was coming out of the bedroom to do the same.
Her hair was mussed and her lips were bruised. Her nipples were still hard and showing through her shirt. Harry gathered her in his arms in a daze and snogged her soundly, pressing her against the wall in the hallway by his bedroom.
"Will you stay the night?" he begged, unable to stop his hand from sliding under her shirt and up her side again to cup her breast again.
"Yes," she sighed against his lips, sucking his bottom lip between her teeth and nipping him gently before pushing him away so she could use the loo.
He went back to the bed and fell back on it, completely content. Three hours ago he'd been simply going to return a book, now he'd be spending the night with a gorgeous redheaded goddess. He'd have to get Hermione something very nice as a thank-you for pushing Ginny in his direction.
Ginny came back to the bedroom and crawled under the blankets with him, they exchanged some lazy kisses as they fell asleep, the show still going on and illuminating the room with its glow.
As the morning dawned Harry awoke not to the light coming in through the curtains, but to the sensation of something rubbing against his front.
Tantalizingly rubbing against his front, actually.
He cracked his eyes open slightly as a sigh of contentment escaped his lips. Ginny's red hair was all he could see as he spooned her from behind. Her bum was rubbing against his morning erection and it felt wonderful.
It was his assurance that it hadn't all been a dream as well.
His arm was around her waist and he moved his hand under her shirt again to explore the playground that was her body. She hummed in pleasure at his touch. Grasping her under her hip he pulled her tighter against him, responding to the movement of her hips with his own.
"Take off you bottoms," She whispered.
"Are you sure?" he asked. He wanted her to say yes. His whole body was begging for it. His hand came between her legs, pushing under the shorts again. This time his fingers didn't meet the fabric of her knickers, instead the met her soft curls and moistness. She'd taken off her knickers last night. He groaned at the feeling and thrust harder against her bum. He spread her with his fingers, coating them with her before massaging her clit.
"I think you can feel how sure I am," she purred, rocking against him in time with his movements.
He grinned, satisfied with how riled up he'd gotten her. "In a moment darling. Seems there's work to do here." He dipped his finger inside her and was rewarded with a loud moan from her. She was so wet and tight. As his finger slid easily in and out of her he had to try not to get too worked up, but just this was making him dizzy with desire.
He added another finger inside her and she began rocking down against his hand, rather than back against his erection. Ginny moved her leg, pulling it over his so that he had easier access to pump his fingers inside her, pressing his palm against her clit. She was almost laying right on top of him, but if he didn't switch things up soon he might find himself with another mess in his pajamas.
She whimpered when he withdrew his fingers and shifted himself around, but made quick work of pulling off her clothes. He shed his bottoms too and came to be on his knees before her, between her legs and looking down at the amazing sight. Her eyes were heavy with sleep and lust as she stared down his frame, landing on his straining erection and biting her lip.
He couldn't help touching himself for a moment while he took in all there was to see. Her perky breasts, dusty rose nipples, the smattering of freckles that covered her whole body, and the nicely trimmed hair between her spread legs. He licked his lips at the sight of it.
"You going to be joining me down here?" she asked with a sensuous movement of her pelvis. She was essentially giving him the come-hither gesture with her labia.
He lowered himself on her, kissing her properly and trying not to give in to the way she was wriggling against him, attempting to get them to meet fully below the belt. "Mmm, not yet," he whispered as he moved to kiss his way down her body.
"Please, I want you."
He groaned, "and you'll have me. But not before I make you cum." He was grabbing her arse more firmly than he had, massaging her there to keep her spread for him as his mouth moved to worship at her breasts. He licked, suckled and kissed as much as he'd wanted to last night, paying careful attention to both of them before making his way down her body.
Her back arched up again as he drew closer, she sucked in a breath as he reached his destination. He spread her open before him and spent his time savoring the flavor of her while she rocked against his face. Then he moved up to focus solely on her clit.
The expletives he was hearing from her as he circled his tongue over her again and again grew into long whimpering moans and he pushed a single finger inside her just a little. She bucked hard against him at that and grasped his hair to pull him tighter against her sex, riding his tongue like a bucking bronco before she came.
He wanted to give her more time to recover, but he was already painfully hard and was sure that holding off any longer would be hazardous to his health.
The most he could manage was to take it slow as he eased himself inside her, giving an almighty groan at the tight heat that was now holding his cock in place. "Jesus. Fucking. H. Christ," he groaned as he started thrusting inside her.
"OH YES!" she cried as he filled her. Her hands came up to the wall behind her, pushing against it to give her the momentum to meet his thrusts.
"I'm not going to last," he panted, already feeling the pressure in his lower back that was making its way to his tightening bollocks.
"I don't care, just fuck me."
"Oh shit," it was almost his undoing to hear that response. He gave her what she asked for, giving it to her as hard as his body demanded before cumming loudly and crying out her name.
Slowly, he milked the last of his orgasm, wishing he could find the energy to stay hard and keep on shagging her through another round, but losing the battle. He pulled her over with him to lay on top of him, slipping out of her in the movement.
"Sorry," he whispered, "it's been a while."
"I still enjoyed it," she whispered back, giving a kiss to his chest. "If you can manage it, we can try that again after some breakfast. But that time, I get to be on top."
He knew he had the biggest, cheesiest grin on his face then, "I'm sending Hermione the biggest engagement present known to man."
"Hmm," Ginny hummed, "me too."
"Brilliant," he stated, finally catching his breath. "Now can I have your number?"
Ginny started laughing hard at that and fell to his side. "Yes. Now you can have my number."