HP fic: "After" (Harry/Ginny | NC-17)
Title: After
Author: aibhinn
Pairing(s): Harry/Ginny
Summary: After the defeat of Voldemort, Harry needs time. Ginny's there every step of the way.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: References to canon character deaths.
Author's note: Written for smutty_claus '08, as a gift for da_angel729. Not sure why I've not got around to posting it elsewhere yet, but oh well. *g* This is unrepentently Harry/Ginny.
The Day After.
While the wizarding world rejoiced at Voldemort's demise, those who had survived the battle at Hogwarts absorbed themselves in clean-up. It was as though no-one could quite bring themselves to join in the festivities just yet; victory had come at too high a cost.
As Ginny made the rounds with an enormous cauldron of chilled water floating before her, she kept an eye out for the person she most wanted to see. At last she found him at the head of a line of men, lifting rocks with his bare hands and passing them to the next bloke, who passed it to the next in a sort of bucket brigade of rubble. He was shirtless and sweaty and filthy, but it was his expression from which Ginny recoiled: it was blank, empty, hopeless. His whole attention was on his task, as though lifting rocks was the most important thing he could be doing at the moment.
It wasn't until she looked at the line of wizards and saw all of her surviving brothers in it that she realised it probably was-and understood why none of them were using magic. Sometimes physical exhaustion was the only effective bandage for a broken heart or a wounded soul.
They stopped long enough for a drink of the water she brought. Harry glanced at her, met her eyes briefly, then looked away and wouldn't meet them again. She tried hard not to be hurt.
Later, Hermione attempted to console her. "Just give him some time," she said. "Let him come to terms with what happened. Above all, don't chase him. He has to come to you, and that will only be after he's laid his ghosts to rest."
"And how long will that take?" Ginny demanded.
"As long as it takes," Hermione said, which was both no answer at all and the only answer possible, little as Ginny liked it.
***
Three Days After.
Remus and Tonks were buried on the third day, side by side in the same grave.
The whole Order turned out, of course, along with a few who'd been lucky enough to have Remus as a professor his one year at Hogwarts, but in all, it was a relatively small crowd. Ginny was glad, in a way; Remus had always been such a private man, and the two of them had been so wrapped up in each other during their short time together, that having a huge funeral wouldn't have felt right.
Harry stood at the edge of the crowd, silent and closed off. He rebuffed everyone except for Ron (she and Hermione didn't approach), refused to answer questions or to allow his photograph to be taken-the media had finally made it out to Hogwarts and were having a field day with the Ones Who Fell and the Boy Who Lived-and watched the proceedings with hollow, tired eyes.
Against her will, Ginny spent as much time looking at Harry as she did the funeral. She didn't mean to, but she couldn't help it; he drew her attention without ever doing a thing. She half-hid behind her father and kept glancing his way, feeling her heart cracking just a little bit more every time she saw his pain.
Once, he glanced her way and caught her eye. She tried a smile, half-hearted with embarrassment at being caught. To her surprise, he managed a half-smile back before looking away, as though uncomfortable. It shouldn't have made her as hopeful as it did.
***
Five Days After.
Fred's funeral was much smaller, much shorter, and much harder. This time, when Harry tried to hang back, the family pulled him forward into the midst of them. They stood in a group at the edge of Fred's grave, watching as his shroud-wrapped body was laid gently and reverently in the earth.
George stood between Charlie and Bill, almost held up by his brothers as he watched the other half of his soul being covered in soil. Ginny's mum leaned heavily on her husband, sobbing inconsolably; the rest of the family was silent. To Ginny, it felt as though the heart of the family was gone. There was an enormous gaping hole inside her, aching and raw, as though a chunk of herself had been ripped away. Tears slid quietly down her face and she made no attempt to wipe them away, just leaned against Percy's side, while Hermione leaned against Ron's.
By the time they made it back to the house, Harry had disappeared again. Ginny slipped away herself, determined to find him; Ron caught her eye and nodded, as though he knew where she was going. Secure in the knowledge that her absence would be understood, she headed down the hill and towards the orchard.
She found Harry by the old oak tree down near the brook, sitting half in shade, watching the sun go down. She made no attempt to sneak up on him as she approached, but he neither moved nor turned to ask her to leave. He just sat there, staring at the water flowing past, his gaze unfocused. Slowly, to give him a chance to object, she came up beside him and sat down, leaning her back against the tree trunk.
They sat there in silent communion, no sound but the water burbling over rocks. After a moment, he reached over without looking and took her hand. She squeezed gently, and he squeezed back.
They sat there until the sun dipped below the horizon. At last he turned to look at her. His eyes were still filled with pain, but they no longer looked haunted. "Thanks," he said.
"For what?"
One corner of his mouth quirked up in an almost-smile. "For coming to find me. For letting me be quiet. For not asking me questions."
"I'll always come to find you," she said simply. "And I'll never ask questions-though I'll listen to whatever answers you want to give."
He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. "Maybe…another time," he said quietly, glancing away. "Not yet."
"Okay," she said.
He looked back at her, startled. "That's it?" he said. "Just 'okay'?"
"What else is there to say?" she asked.
There was a pause, and then he smiled. A proper smile, this time; the first one she'd seen from him in months. "Yeah," he said. "I guess you're right."
They fell silent again, still holding hands.
***
One Year After.
For the first time in almost a year, Ginny was back at Hogwarts. A memorial, oddly similar to the ones the Muggles put up in their towns, had been erected outside the entrance, and it was there that they all gathered: hundreds and hundreds of witches and wizards commemorating the end of the war and those who had given their lives in fighting it. Fred's name was there, and Remus's, and Tonks's, and Sirius's. Harry's parents were there as well, and Neville's, though they were still alive in St Mungo's. So many names she recognised; so many people she'd lost. They'd lost.
Harry had come, of course. Though he was flanked by a squad of Aurors that effectively kept people away from him, they couldn't stop the photographs, nor the people pointing and murmuring. The Aurors were his squad, Ginny surmised; Ron had told her that he'd already been promoted to squad leader, and that no commander in the entire Corps of Aurors was more respected or loved.
The words of the Minister of Magic and the other speakers washed over her, but she didn't hear them. Her mind's eye was too full of memories. The Death Eater attack in her fifth year. Dumbledore's funeral. Her mother killing Bellatrix Lestrange. The fighting all through Hogwarts. The horror when she'd learned of Fred's death, and the muted joy of welcoming Percy back into the family. As painful as Percy's betrayal had been, he was still her brother, and she couldn't bear to lose another.
Movement around her caught her attention, and she realised the speeches were done. Automatically, her eyes went to Harry, and she blinked in surprise; he was looking straight at her. He held up four fingers, then turned and walked away, disappearing quickly around the side of the building, his 'bodyguards' shifting to hide his retreat.
Ginny stared after him. Four? Four what?
Then it hit her. Heart pounding, she followed, earning only a smile of encouragement from the Aurors as she passed. In other circumstances that would have been embarrassing, but now, all she could focus on was Harry.
Greenhouse Four was dark and empty-all the plants had been removed when the school was closed for repairs after the war. She slowed as she approached it, eyes straining to see inside, but there was nothing-no motion, no light, no indication anyone was there.
She pushed open the door slowly. Harry stood about halfway down the rows of tables, looking at her with an expression of such intense longing that her breath caught. She ran towards him and he caught her up in his arms, clutching her to him as his mouth crashed against hers, kissing her with all the pent-up passion of so much time apart. She kissed him back frantically, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling herself tight against him.
His hands slid down beneath her bum and he lifted her, setting her on the table beside him. Her legs separated so he could press between them, and she groaned softly in the back of her throat at the evidence of his want.
He broke away, panting, and pressed his forehead to hers. "Ginny," he began, awkwardly.
"Don't you dare," she whispered fiercely, causing him to pull back a bit, startled. "Don't you dare ask me if I'm sure, or offer to stop, or anything stupid like that. You know better. You know me." Meeting his eyes, she drew her wand slowly and tapped one of the buttons on her robe. The fabric slid down her shoulders to puddle at her waist.
He stared at her, mouth agape, his eyes hungrily devouring the image of her half-naked before him. He raised trembling hands to her shoulders, tracing down along her collarbones and sternum to her breasts, following the line of her bra. She bit her lip, watching as his rapt gaze followed his fingers until at last he cupped her breasts, thumbs swiping over her nipples through the fabric of her bra.
She hissed in a breath at the sensation, and his eyes flickered upwards to meet hers. They were so dark now, dark and fathoms deep, and Ginny knew her own must look the same. He leaned forward and kissed her again, hands caressing her skin as she undid his buttons too. He shrugged out of his robe, kicking it to the side.
Clad now only in boxers, he reached for her robe as well, tugging it down towards her hips. She lifted her bottom up off the table just enough for him to pull the fabric free as she kicked her shoes off. He tugged her knickers down at the same time, and she felt a frisson of excitement go through her. Reaching up behind her, she flicked her bra clasp open and let the straps slide down her arms, baring herself completely as he pulled off his shoes and his boxers.
They stopped, stock-still, for a long moment, looking at each other. Harry's skinny shoulders had broadened nicely over the past year, Ginny thought appreciatively, and his muscles were much more defined than they'd been back when the two of them were together. Two years makes a lot of difference, she thought, and raised a hand to trail from the hollow of his throat down his sternum and over his abs.
His breathing sped up, and as she let her hand move sideways to rest on his hip, he leant forward to capture her lips again, wrapping his arms around her to pull her flush with his body. His hardness pressed against her, and she made a soft sound of want in the back of her throat. He groaned into her mouth, pressing against her again, more insistently, and she knew that no matter what she'd hoped, this wasn't going to last very long at all.
He must have been thinking the same thing, for he broke the kiss and said hoarsely, "Ginny."
"Harry," she whispered in reply, acknowledgement and permission and plea in one.
He slid his hand down over her thigh, then beneath it, lifting slightly as he slid slowly into her. Ginny let her head fall back, propping herself up on her hands and arching into him, encouraging him deeper. It was better than she'd imagined, better than she could ever have dreamed.
"Look at me, Ginny," Harry said softly.
She forced her eyes open, to find him staring at her, eyes dilated until they were almost black, skin flushed, gaze full of love and desire. "You're all I've ever wanted," he murmured. "Just you."
Their gazes remained locked as he began to move, slowly at first but faster and harder as he worked her closer and closer to orgasm. She wrapped her legs around his hips, heels pressing into his bum, pulling him as deep into her as he could go. The cool, dusty air around them filled with the scent and sound of sex, but Ginny was only dimly aware of it; her whole world was filled with Harry and the sensations he was awakening within her. The tension inside her coiled tighter and tighter, and she panted, reaching for the release she could feel just out of reach-so close-
One of Harry's hands slid between them, his thumb pressing against her clitoris and rubbing in tight, unrelenting circles. She shattered, crying out as her muscles clenched rhythmically around him, pulsing in time with her orgasm.
"God," Harry choked. He slammed into her, and again, his thrusts growing increasingly erratic as his control began to wear thin. Ginny looked into his desperate, needy eyes, saw how close he was, and whispered, "Please, Harry. Come for me."
He buried himself in her with a shout, and she felt his release inside her. She tightened her inner muscles, trying to prolong his pleasure as he gasped and his way through his last few thrusts before bracing his hands on the table to either side of her as he came to a halt, trembling and sweaty, his breathing ragged.
They stayed that way for a long moment, catching their breaths. Finally, though, they had to move, and they disengaged reluctantly. Ginny sat up fully, and the two of them wrapped each other in an embrace. Ginny rested her head against Harry's shoulder, listening to the sound of his racing heart slowing back to its normal pace, and he rested his cheek on top of her head.
"We should go," he murmured at last.
"Yeah," she said unenthusiastically. She really didn't want to face all those people again, especially all the media, who could smell a blossoming romance a mile away. She was almost surprised they hadn't already found them.
That thought was so frightening that she actually pulled away from Harry to look out the windows at the darkening grounds. No one was there, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
"What is it?" Harry asked, spinning to look as well. Somehow he had his wand in his hand, though she'd have sworn it was in his robes, which were on the floor several feet away.
"Nothing." He turned to her, clearly not believing, and she relented. "Harry-what happens now? With us, I mean? Do we go back to the way we were, or do we go forward-and if we go forward, forward to where?"
Harry sighed and bent down to retrieve her clothes, setting them on the table beside her. "I don't know, Ginny," he said wearily. "I don't want to give you up, but I can't exactly be a normal boyfriend right now. I'm an Auror, and that means I don't have anything like a normal work schedule."
"I know that, Harry," Ginny said patiently.
"And then there's the media," he went on, looking her in the eye. "A lot of people who are absolutely determined to find out everything they can about us. The moment they know we're together, they'll descend on you like flies. Bat them away and they fly out of range, then settle right back, and there's no way of getting rid of them."
Ginny reached up to put her hands on Harry's cheeks. "I don't care," she said fiercely. "I didn't care back in fifth year, and I don't care now. If you want to keep things quiet, all right, but don't do it for my sake, because you're worth it, Harry. You're worth every second of it."
Harry looked at her for a long moment, then bent down and kissed her, gently, sweetly. "I don't want to keep it quiet," he said. "I want to shout it from the rooftops."
She chuckled. "All right, then, that's what we'll do. But let's get dressed first, all right?"
He laughed. It was the first real laugh she'd heard from him in ages, and her heart swelled with it.
***
A Year and a Day After.
A brush of cool air against her back woke Ginny from sleep, and she turned over groggily. Soft lips pressed against her forehead reassuringly. "I'll be right back," Harry's voice murmured.
She stretched slowly, feeling a smile tugging at her mouth, even as her muscles twinged. She fully expected a Howler from her mother to arrive any time now, since she'd not come home last night, but at the moment, she just couldn't bring herself to care.
A few minutes later, Harry returned with two cups of tea and the morning paper. Ginny pushed herself up into a sitting position and took one of the cups and the paper, unfolding the latter as Harry slid back into bed beside her. "Hah," she said, pointing. "I was right. They did get a photo of us as we sneaked into the Great Hall."
"Mm." He snuggled up next to her, one arm around her, looking at the photo. "Wonder if anyone else will notice that your robes aren't buttoned properly?"
"And why would that be, Mr Potter?" she asked, letting her eyes twinkle at him.
He grinned. "Because we'd been busy, Miss Weasley," he said. "And if you don't recall, I think I might just have to remind you."
He reached for his wand and levitated both of their cups to the bedside table before tossing the newspaper off the bed and rolling on top of her. Ginny laughed throatily and kissed him.
Author: aibhinn
Pairing(s): Harry/Ginny
Summary: After the defeat of Voldemort, Harry needs time. Ginny's there every step of the way.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: References to canon character deaths.
Author's note: Written for smutty_claus '08, as a gift for da_angel729. Not sure why I've not got around to posting it elsewhere yet, but oh well. *g* This is unrepentently Harry/Ginny.
The Day After.
While the wizarding world rejoiced at Voldemort's demise, those who had survived the battle at Hogwarts absorbed themselves in clean-up. It was as though no-one could quite bring themselves to join in the festivities just yet; victory had come at too high a cost.
As Ginny made the rounds with an enormous cauldron of chilled water floating before her, she kept an eye out for the person she most wanted to see. At last she found him at the head of a line of men, lifting rocks with his bare hands and passing them to the next bloke, who passed it to the next in a sort of bucket brigade of rubble. He was shirtless and sweaty and filthy, but it was his expression from which Ginny recoiled: it was blank, empty, hopeless. His whole attention was on his task, as though lifting rocks was the most important thing he could be doing at the moment.
It wasn't until she looked at the line of wizards and saw all of her surviving brothers in it that she realised it probably was-and understood why none of them were using magic. Sometimes physical exhaustion was the only effective bandage for a broken heart or a wounded soul.
They stopped long enough for a drink of the water she brought. Harry glanced at her, met her eyes briefly, then looked away and wouldn't meet them again. She tried hard not to be hurt.
Later, Hermione attempted to console her. "Just give him some time," she said. "Let him come to terms with what happened. Above all, don't chase him. He has to come to you, and that will only be after he's laid his ghosts to rest."
"And how long will that take?" Ginny demanded.
"As long as it takes," Hermione said, which was both no answer at all and the only answer possible, little as Ginny liked it.
***
Three Days After.
Remus and Tonks were buried on the third day, side by side in the same grave.
The whole Order turned out, of course, along with a few who'd been lucky enough to have Remus as a professor his one year at Hogwarts, but in all, it was a relatively small crowd. Ginny was glad, in a way; Remus had always been such a private man, and the two of them had been so wrapped up in each other during their short time together, that having a huge funeral wouldn't have felt right.
Harry stood at the edge of the crowd, silent and closed off. He rebuffed everyone except for Ron (she and Hermione didn't approach), refused to answer questions or to allow his photograph to be taken-the media had finally made it out to Hogwarts and were having a field day with the Ones Who Fell and the Boy Who Lived-and watched the proceedings with hollow, tired eyes.
Against her will, Ginny spent as much time looking at Harry as she did the funeral. She didn't mean to, but she couldn't help it; he drew her attention without ever doing a thing. She half-hid behind her father and kept glancing his way, feeling her heart cracking just a little bit more every time she saw his pain.
Once, he glanced her way and caught her eye. She tried a smile, half-hearted with embarrassment at being caught. To her surprise, he managed a half-smile back before looking away, as though uncomfortable. It shouldn't have made her as hopeful as it did.
***
Five Days After.
Fred's funeral was much smaller, much shorter, and much harder. This time, when Harry tried to hang back, the family pulled him forward into the midst of them. They stood in a group at the edge of Fred's grave, watching as his shroud-wrapped body was laid gently and reverently in the earth.
George stood between Charlie and Bill, almost held up by his brothers as he watched the other half of his soul being covered in soil. Ginny's mum leaned heavily on her husband, sobbing inconsolably; the rest of the family was silent. To Ginny, it felt as though the heart of the family was gone. There was an enormous gaping hole inside her, aching and raw, as though a chunk of herself had been ripped away. Tears slid quietly down her face and she made no attempt to wipe them away, just leaned against Percy's side, while Hermione leaned against Ron's.
By the time they made it back to the house, Harry had disappeared again. Ginny slipped away herself, determined to find him; Ron caught her eye and nodded, as though he knew where she was going. Secure in the knowledge that her absence would be understood, she headed down the hill and towards the orchard.
She found Harry by the old oak tree down near the brook, sitting half in shade, watching the sun go down. She made no attempt to sneak up on him as she approached, but he neither moved nor turned to ask her to leave. He just sat there, staring at the water flowing past, his gaze unfocused. Slowly, to give him a chance to object, she came up beside him and sat down, leaning her back against the tree trunk.
They sat there in silent communion, no sound but the water burbling over rocks. After a moment, he reached over without looking and took her hand. She squeezed gently, and he squeezed back.
They sat there until the sun dipped below the horizon. At last he turned to look at her. His eyes were still filled with pain, but they no longer looked haunted. "Thanks," he said.
"For what?"
One corner of his mouth quirked up in an almost-smile. "For coming to find me. For letting me be quiet. For not asking me questions."
"I'll always come to find you," she said simply. "And I'll never ask questions-though I'll listen to whatever answers you want to give."
He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. "Maybe…another time," he said quietly, glancing away. "Not yet."
"Okay," she said.
He looked back at her, startled. "That's it?" he said. "Just 'okay'?"
"What else is there to say?" she asked.
There was a pause, and then he smiled. A proper smile, this time; the first one she'd seen from him in months. "Yeah," he said. "I guess you're right."
They fell silent again, still holding hands.
***
One Year After.
For the first time in almost a year, Ginny was back at Hogwarts. A memorial, oddly similar to the ones the Muggles put up in their towns, had been erected outside the entrance, and it was there that they all gathered: hundreds and hundreds of witches and wizards commemorating the end of the war and those who had given their lives in fighting it. Fred's name was there, and Remus's, and Tonks's, and Sirius's. Harry's parents were there as well, and Neville's, though they were still alive in St Mungo's. So many names she recognised; so many people she'd lost. They'd lost.
Harry had come, of course. Though he was flanked by a squad of Aurors that effectively kept people away from him, they couldn't stop the photographs, nor the people pointing and murmuring. The Aurors were his squad, Ginny surmised; Ron had told her that he'd already been promoted to squad leader, and that no commander in the entire Corps of Aurors was more respected or loved.
The words of the Minister of Magic and the other speakers washed over her, but she didn't hear them. Her mind's eye was too full of memories. The Death Eater attack in her fifth year. Dumbledore's funeral. Her mother killing Bellatrix Lestrange. The fighting all through Hogwarts. The horror when she'd learned of Fred's death, and the muted joy of welcoming Percy back into the family. As painful as Percy's betrayal had been, he was still her brother, and she couldn't bear to lose another.
Movement around her caught her attention, and she realised the speeches were done. Automatically, her eyes went to Harry, and she blinked in surprise; he was looking straight at her. He held up four fingers, then turned and walked away, disappearing quickly around the side of the building, his 'bodyguards' shifting to hide his retreat.
Ginny stared after him. Four? Four what?
Then it hit her. Heart pounding, she followed, earning only a smile of encouragement from the Aurors as she passed. In other circumstances that would have been embarrassing, but now, all she could focus on was Harry.
Greenhouse Four was dark and empty-all the plants had been removed when the school was closed for repairs after the war. She slowed as she approached it, eyes straining to see inside, but there was nothing-no motion, no light, no indication anyone was there.
She pushed open the door slowly. Harry stood about halfway down the rows of tables, looking at her with an expression of such intense longing that her breath caught. She ran towards him and he caught her up in his arms, clutching her to him as his mouth crashed against hers, kissing her with all the pent-up passion of so much time apart. She kissed him back frantically, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling herself tight against him.
His hands slid down beneath her bum and he lifted her, setting her on the table beside him. Her legs separated so he could press between them, and she groaned softly in the back of her throat at the evidence of his want.
He broke away, panting, and pressed his forehead to hers. "Ginny," he began, awkwardly.
"Don't you dare," she whispered fiercely, causing him to pull back a bit, startled. "Don't you dare ask me if I'm sure, or offer to stop, or anything stupid like that. You know better. You know me." Meeting his eyes, she drew her wand slowly and tapped one of the buttons on her robe. The fabric slid down her shoulders to puddle at her waist.
He stared at her, mouth agape, his eyes hungrily devouring the image of her half-naked before him. He raised trembling hands to her shoulders, tracing down along her collarbones and sternum to her breasts, following the line of her bra. She bit her lip, watching as his rapt gaze followed his fingers until at last he cupped her breasts, thumbs swiping over her nipples through the fabric of her bra.
She hissed in a breath at the sensation, and his eyes flickered upwards to meet hers. They were so dark now, dark and fathoms deep, and Ginny knew her own must look the same. He leaned forward and kissed her again, hands caressing her skin as she undid his buttons too. He shrugged out of his robe, kicking it to the side.
Clad now only in boxers, he reached for her robe as well, tugging it down towards her hips. She lifted her bottom up off the table just enough for him to pull the fabric free as she kicked her shoes off. He tugged her knickers down at the same time, and she felt a frisson of excitement go through her. Reaching up behind her, she flicked her bra clasp open and let the straps slide down her arms, baring herself completely as he pulled off his shoes and his boxers.
They stopped, stock-still, for a long moment, looking at each other. Harry's skinny shoulders had broadened nicely over the past year, Ginny thought appreciatively, and his muscles were much more defined than they'd been back when the two of them were together. Two years makes a lot of difference, she thought, and raised a hand to trail from the hollow of his throat down his sternum and over his abs.
His breathing sped up, and as she let her hand move sideways to rest on his hip, he leant forward to capture her lips again, wrapping his arms around her to pull her flush with his body. His hardness pressed against her, and she made a soft sound of want in the back of her throat. He groaned into her mouth, pressing against her again, more insistently, and she knew that no matter what she'd hoped, this wasn't going to last very long at all.
He must have been thinking the same thing, for he broke the kiss and said hoarsely, "Ginny."
"Harry," she whispered in reply, acknowledgement and permission and plea in one.
He slid his hand down over her thigh, then beneath it, lifting slightly as he slid slowly into her. Ginny let her head fall back, propping herself up on her hands and arching into him, encouraging him deeper. It was better than she'd imagined, better than she could ever have dreamed.
"Look at me, Ginny," Harry said softly.
She forced her eyes open, to find him staring at her, eyes dilated until they were almost black, skin flushed, gaze full of love and desire. "You're all I've ever wanted," he murmured. "Just you."
Their gazes remained locked as he began to move, slowly at first but faster and harder as he worked her closer and closer to orgasm. She wrapped her legs around his hips, heels pressing into his bum, pulling him as deep into her as he could go. The cool, dusty air around them filled with the scent and sound of sex, but Ginny was only dimly aware of it; her whole world was filled with Harry and the sensations he was awakening within her. The tension inside her coiled tighter and tighter, and she panted, reaching for the release she could feel just out of reach-so close-
One of Harry's hands slid between them, his thumb pressing against her clitoris and rubbing in tight, unrelenting circles. She shattered, crying out as her muscles clenched rhythmically around him, pulsing in time with her orgasm.
"God," Harry choked. He slammed into her, and again, his thrusts growing increasingly erratic as his control began to wear thin. Ginny looked into his desperate, needy eyes, saw how close he was, and whispered, "Please, Harry. Come for me."
He buried himself in her with a shout, and she felt his release inside her. She tightened her inner muscles, trying to prolong his pleasure as he gasped and his way through his last few thrusts before bracing his hands on the table to either side of her as he came to a halt, trembling and sweaty, his breathing ragged.
They stayed that way for a long moment, catching their breaths. Finally, though, they had to move, and they disengaged reluctantly. Ginny sat up fully, and the two of them wrapped each other in an embrace. Ginny rested her head against Harry's shoulder, listening to the sound of his racing heart slowing back to its normal pace, and he rested his cheek on top of her head.
"We should go," he murmured at last.
"Yeah," she said unenthusiastically. She really didn't want to face all those people again, especially all the media, who could smell a blossoming romance a mile away. She was almost surprised they hadn't already found them.
That thought was so frightening that she actually pulled away from Harry to look out the windows at the darkening grounds. No one was there, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
"What is it?" Harry asked, spinning to look as well. Somehow he had his wand in his hand, though she'd have sworn it was in his robes, which were on the floor several feet away.
"Nothing." He turned to her, clearly not believing, and she relented. "Harry-what happens now? With us, I mean? Do we go back to the way we were, or do we go forward-and if we go forward, forward to where?"
Harry sighed and bent down to retrieve her clothes, setting them on the table beside her. "I don't know, Ginny," he said wearily. "I don't want to give you up, but I can't exactly be a normal boyfriend right now. I'm an Auror, and that means I don't have anything like a normal work schedule."
"I know that, Harry," Ginny said patiently.
"And then there's the media," he went on, looking her in the eye. "A lot of people who are absolutely determined to find out everything they can about us. The moment they know we're together, they'll descend on you like flies. Bat them away and they fly out of range, then settle right back, and there's no way of getting rid of them."
Ginny reached up to put her hands on Harry's cheeks. "I don't care," she said fiercely. "I didn't care back in fifth year, and I don't care now. If you want to keep things quiet, all right, but don't do it for my sake, because you're worth it, Harry. You're worth every second of it."
Harry looked at her for a long moment, then bent down and kissed her, gently, sweetly. "I don't want to keep it quiet," he said. "I want to shout it from the rooftops."
She chuckled. "All right, then, that's what we'll do. But let's get dressed first, all right?"
He laughed. It was the first real laugh she'd heard from him in ages, and her heart swelled with it.
***
A Year and a Day After.
A brush of cool air against her back woke Ginny from sleep, and she turned over groggily. Soft lips pressed against her forehead reassuringly. "I'll be right back," Harry's voice murmured.
She stretched slowly, feeling a smile tugging at her mouth, even as her muscles twinged. She fully expected a Howler from her mother to arrive any time now, since she'd not come home last night, but at the moment, she just couldn't bring herself to care.
A few minutes later, Harry returned with two cups of tea and the morning paper. Ginny pushed herself up into a sitting position and took one of the cups and the paper, unfolding the latter as Harry slid back into bed beside her. "Hah," she said, pointing. "I was right. They did get a photo of us as we sneaked into the Great Hall."
"Mm." He snuggled up next to her, one arm around her, looking at the photo. "Wonder if anyone else will notice that your robes aren't buttoned properly?"
"And why would that be, Mr Potter?" she asked, letting her eyes twinkle at him.
He grinned. "Because we'd been busy, Miss Weasley," he said. "And if you don't recall, I think I might just have to remind you."
He reached for his wand and levitated both of their cups to the bedside table before tossing the newspaper off the bed and rolling on top of her. Ginny laughed throatily and kissed him.