Title: We're Not Dating
Author: Almond_Joyz
Pairing: Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley
Summary: Things weren't supposed to be this difficult, were they?
Rating: NC17
Length: 6947 plus 879 in bonus material.
Author Note: I wrote this for
in 2012 and forgot to post this. I also wrote a sort of outtake from Harry's POV, which is included as bonus material.
I. Out in the Rain
"Want some company?" Ginny asked as Harry stepped into a pair of Wellingtons.
He looked at her for a moment, almost as if he thought she was an idiot. "Why?" he asked in a tone that said she was right.
Sighing and biting her bottom lip, she pulled on her own pair of boots and stood before him. "Because I'm your friend, Harry, and you've been spending way too much time alone lately. Besides, it's more fun to walk in the rain with someone else. Come on." She turned the door knob, letting in the scent of rain and the sound of water pelting the leaves on the trees.
"Fine. But don't try to get me to talk about anything," he warned.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Days like today, Harry irritated her a lot. Since coming through the war alive, he was more detached than he had been for a long time, actually more than Ginny'd ever seen him aside from his fifth year at school. She'd had enough of his selfish behaviour and vowed to drag him out of his funk over the summer. Her main goal was to revive the Harry that gladly stole time away from the castle and would be playful with her under the wide canopy of a tree, learning how to kiss her and being brave and bold in how he touched her. She wanted him back, mind, body and soul. His body just happened to be what she missed the most.
Together she and Harry stepped out into the rainy afternoon, with Ginny having cast a non-verbal Impervious charm. They walked silently among the clucking chickens and down toward the outhouse where the Quidditch brooms were housed. If he wanted to fly in the rain, that would be just fine with her.
"I'm not going for a fly," he said blandly as he opened the door of the small shed. Harry turned toward her. "Well, not the kind of fly you're thinking of."
Ginny watched as he stepped into the dark of the shed and lit the end of his wand. She leaned her head inside and gasped, smiling at the same time. "You fixed it."
There, in the glow of Harry's wand, stood Sirius' old motorbike, shiny and in deep contrast to the dusty and musty interior of the shed. She chanced a look at Harry, catching him in full smile, one that went to his eyes; he hadn't smiled like that in a very long time and she couldn't help but smile back. Before she could fully appreciate his smile, he turned away and stepped inside, pushing the old bike out of the shed and stopping beside her.
"Just finished it. Thought I'd take it out for a spin," he said lightly.
Ginny choked on a laugh. "You know how to drive that thing?"
He merely shrugged his shoulders. "I read a manual. The basics are pretty easy to figure out. What's life without a little danger?" His eyes glinted from the reflection of his wand, as if challenging her.
Her answer came in sputters and she finally nodded, hopping onto the back of the dark leather seat. He silently climbed on in front of her, balancing the bike between his thighs and lifting the side stand. With a wave of his wand, the engine roared to life and the vibrations travelled up her thighs and into her body, making excitement rush through her.
Before she knew it, they were rumbling down the gravel road and then heading up into the rain clouds.
Neither one of them heard the flash of the camera above the clap of thunder.
******
"I'm sorry, Ginny. I should have checked the area first." Harry handed her the Daily Prophet, the Lifestyle section to be precise. There on the front page was a picture of the two of them on the motorbike, Ginny's arms around Harry's waist and both of them wearing silly grins. The caption below the picture read 'A sweethearts' getaway for Potter and his 'Main Squeeze'. Well done, Harry!'
"At least we're smiling!" she said, not really caring what other people thought. "It's okay, Harry, really."
"But, we're not…dating."
"No, we're not."
II. In the Leaky Cauldron
"Merlin save me from females," Harry moaned as he slid into the booth next to Ginny and pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head.
"Well then you chose the wrong booth," she said dryly. "I'm female."
Harry looked at her and she couldn't help but notice the blush that coloured his cheeks or the way his eyes travelled over her.
"I know," he said breathily. "But you're…" He turned away again.
Ginny rolled her eyes and groaned. "I'm what?"
In the few weeks since the motorbike picture in the paper, things between them were a little easier. Harry came out of his shell bit by bit, restoring a hint of the easiness between them. They often shared a laugh over the way Ron and Hermione acted around each other, while other times they would sit quietly together when George would have a crying episode or one of his more frequent outbursts. From each of those and many other times with Harry, Ginny felt something grow between them, but it was still unclear as to whether it was friendship or the rebuilding of a romance. Actually, it felt strangely similar to the time before they got together the first time.
"What am I, Harry?" There, the gauntlet had been thrown. Hard.
He tilted his head to the side, as if he were puzzling out a difficult problem. "You're not chasing me down Diagon Alley. You're not giggling every time I walk by and you're not sending me love owls with indecent proposals."
"Do you want me to?" She knew deep down he didn't want that sort of girl; in her mind, she was exactly Harry's type. He needed someone strong and mentally tough enough to put up with him.
He pulled the hood off his head and ran a hand through his hair. "Of course not. I've never wanted that from you."
"And what is it you want from me?" In all honesty, all she wanted was to know where she stood with him.
"I want---"
"Hey, Ginny!" interrupted Jimmy Peakes. "Wow, look at you. Great haircut."
Ginny smiled at Jimmy, glaring at Harry briefly. Even he didn't notice her haircut, which was about five inches shorter than it had been an hour ago. Turning to Jimmy, she flashed a bright smile and nudged Harry in the ribs. "Move." He slid out of the booth and before he'd made his way completely out of the seat, Ginny shimmied her way past him and stood up next to Jimmy.
"What're you up to these days?" he asked smoothly.
She eyed the once awkward and lanky Jimmy and noticed he had grown a few inches, filled out, got some muscle on him and sported a bit of stubble on his chin.
"Oh you know, not much. Just hanging out," she said with a deliberate lilt in her voice. "Harry was just leaving."
"Oh?" Jimmy asked. "I thought you two, well, you know."
Ginny shook her head. "Nope. We're not dating, are we, Harry?"
"No, we're not."
III. At Grimmauld Place
"Aurors jus' don' have time for entanglements," Harry slurred in a booming voice. "Need to stay focused."
"Oh really? And how to you explain Ron and Hermione?" she asked, noticing for the third time that a drunk Harry was a very fit looking Harry. "Do you consider them entangled?" She giggled and then closed her eyes at the image of them 'entangled.'
"Seen 'em entangled. Not a pretty sight," he answered, draining the last of his ale and suppressing a belch.
For the life of her, she didn't really understand why he was drinking-or why she was down in the kitchen drinking along with him. She should really be sleeping, as she needed to board the Hogwarts Express the next morning. Even though she and her family were at Grimmauld Place and the trip was dramatically shorter than from The Burrow, it would still be a mad rush in the morning and fighting a hangover would not expedite things at all.
"So why aren't you entangled, Harry?" asked the utterly desperate part of her.
"Tol' you. Too much goin' on. Not enough time."
"But what if she wasn't always around? What if she was at Hogwarts?"
Shut up, Ginny!
He swallowed and leaned forward. "Then I'd never see her and I'd feel guilty about it," he answered, sounding surprisingly sober. His green eyes focused on her and felt as if they were boring into her, making her think he was using Legilimency on her. A rush of emotion went through her, making her knees feel weak and her head spin.
They sat staring at one another for a moment or two before Harry got off his chair and went to sit next to her, pressing his thigh against her own. His hand went to play with the hair around her ear, sending tingles up and down her skin. Ginny couldn't help looking at his lips, full and strong, and when he licked them, the choice was made for her.
She leaned her face to the right and kissed him lightly. After two kisses, he responded, taking over and opening his mouth to trail his tongue over her lips, which opened reflexively. She sighed as he pulled her closer and kissed him harder, running her hands over his back. Her limbs felt heavy and she settled herself against him, nearly lying in his lap. He groaned and lay back so that she was prone against him, their bodies pressing against each other in familiar ways. It had been so long since they'd been like this and she lost herself in the moment.
Harry reached a hand down and stroked her arse while thrusting his hips against hers. She gasped at what she felt and pressed back, swirling her hips and earning a groan of pleasure from deep within his throat. His hands held her hips steady while they continued to grind against one another. As their kisses grew deeper, Harry moved his hands underneath her shirt, cupping the sides of her breasts before roaming back down her sides and dipping inside the elastic of her flannel pyjama pants.
Ginny felt herself nearing the edge of release, needed to feel more, taste more of him. Reluctantly, she drew her mouth from his and moved to his neck, sucking the salty-tangy skin into her mouth, knowing she'd leave a mark. She lifted herself up on her hands, pressing her lower body more firmly against his erection and sliding his t-shirt up to his armpits and then pulling him up to remove it all together. He grabbed her shirt in turn and a shot of cold air hit her hot skin. His eyes grew wide and he leaned forward, pulling a nipple into her mouth, suckling as if she were the best tasting food on the planet.
"Oh my God, Harry," she whispered, her climax building up inside her. She bent to kiss his chest and lick her way back toward his neck. Her breathing sped and sweat began to bead on her forehead. She lay her face in the crook of his neck and let the orgasm wash over her, the pulsations filling her up, making her bold enough to slip her hand inside his own pyjamas and curve her fingers around his hot flesh. She squeezed twice and felt him throb in her hand, squirting into her palm.
"Shit," he groaned. "That wasn't supposed to happen."
Ginny snuggled against his side and looped a leg over his hip. "I liked it."
Harry slid off the couch and tossed back her shirt, leaving her scrunched up the back cushions. "No, that...us...that wasn't supposed to happen." He ran both his hands through his hair and turned around. She quickly pulled her shirt over her head.
Crossing her arms over her chest and feeling ashamed, Ginny scooted into the corner of the couch, unwilling to believe what she'd just heard. He snogged her, felt her up and made her experience a major-quality orgasm only to reject her afterwards. She felt like screaming, crying and hitting him, but all she could do was draw her legs up and wrap her arms around them.
"Why not?" She barely recognised the sound of her voice; she sounded weak and...girly.
He spun around. "I told you. I'm too busy, there's too much to do, too much going on in my life for anything. I can't do that to you!"
"But you could do this?"
"I'm sorry, really I am. We got carried away, I'm half drunk and we...we're..."
"We're not dating."
At that, Harry went to the stairs and as the sound of his steps became fainter, Ginny wiped a tear from her cheek.
"Why can't we?" she whispered into the dark.
IV. With Ron
"You can go and hang out with your friends, you know. I don't need a minder," Ron said from across the table. He lifted his glass of Butterbeer and drank deeply, closing his eyes as he swallowed.
"I miss you, brother dear," she answered softly, smiling weakly. "I'm sorry the owl missed you." Earlier that morning, Hermione began vomiting and showing signs of Dragon Pox. Madam Pomfrey confirmed the diagnosis, quarantining Hermione in the Hospital Wing. Ginny had sent an owl as soon as they'd found out, but Ron had already left and the owl missed him.
Ron shook his head. "Not your fault." He looked around the Three Broomsticks briefly, almost as if he were trying to think of something to say. "How's Quidditch?"
"Fine. Prospects for the Cup look good. You should come to my next match," she said eagerly. "I heard from the Harpies. They'll be there."
Ron's face brightened and he smiled for the first time that day. "Wicked! So what's gonna happen after the match?"
Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "Dunno. All I know is that someone will be coming to scout both me and Glenda Rivers from Ravenclaw. After that is anyone's guess. Nothing too spectacular."
"They'd be fools not to take you. You fly better than anyone I've seen in a long time,' he said, raising his glass to her in a toasting fashion.
"How's Harry?" she blurted.
"Miserable."
"How so?" She had tried to sound casual about it, but her voice sounded excessively eager.
"He's got some bee up his arse. Mopes around when he's not in training, talks in his sleep and swear the bugger's wanking most nights. If he was fucking, he sure wouldn't be miserable."
Her mouth went dry at the image of Harry wanking: eyes half-closed, tongue sticking out of his mouth, breaths coming in shallow pants and his hand sliding up and down that thick cock until-
"Ginny!" Ron bellowed, bringing her thoughts crashing around her. "You okay? You're all flushed. You better not be getting sick, too."
She took a couple deep breaths and drank some Butterbeer. "Sorry." She cleared her throat. "Is he seeing anyone?"
"That's the thing. He doesn't go out, except for with me and Hermione. He won't go the pub after training with the rest of us. Kreacher says he's always there alone," Ron explained and then paused, furrowing his brow and tilting his head as he looked at her. "You want him back, don't you?"
"I...He's not interested," she whispered and looked away. After several seconds, she felt Ron's heavy hand on hers and she turned toward her brother.
"As much as I don't like the thought of you kissing anyone, my advice is go after him, Gin. You're good for him," he told her, appearing more serious than he had in a long time. "You both were happy together and for some strange reason, the two of you make sense."
Ron's comment made her smile. "I know that, you know that, but does Harry know that?" Ginny ran a hand through her hair, twirling the end around a finger. "So what do I do?"
Ron sighed in disgust. "Just jump him next time you see him. Worked last time, didn't it?"
Clearing her throat, Ginny answered quietly, "Well, I tried that."
"What?"
"We...well..."
"You didn't!"
"Not really..."
"Did you…?"
"Yes."
"And did he?"
"Yes."
"But you didn't...you know."
"No!"
Ron shook his head and took a drink. "No wonder he's all wound up. Poor sod."
Ginny huffed and flung herself against the back of the chair. "Thanks for your concern, Ron."
He leaned forward on the table, looking her straight in the eye. "I am, honest. I understand the both of you. But you have to do whatever you have to in order to make him see he's better with you than without you."
"You're the best."
"Yeah, well, I have my moments."
V. On New Year's Eve
"I need you, Ginny," Harry said deeply, pulling his mouth from hers. "You keep pulling me in. Like a magnet." His mouth went to her neck, trailing hot kisses back to her ear. "I have to touch you."
"You're touching me. Keep doing it." Her words came in shallow pants and her mind had lost all thought but kissing him.
How they had ever found themselves like this in the scullery was beyond her. She remembered coming down from her room for some water to find Harry sitting at the table glumly eating leftover treacle tart. A short conversation followed, during which time they nearly finished the dessert, and while returning it to its rightful shelf in the scullery, Harry pounced, pulling her hard into his embrace and kissing her desperately.
She didn't mind, of course, and encouraged his mouth and hands. She missed him a great deal and couldn't stop thinking about him when she was at school. Ginny knew that eventually he would stop, regret things had gone too far and then walk away. She felt cheap for allowing it to happen at all, but a part of her didn't mind taking what he could give. She'd think things through later on.
"I need to touch you. Here," he said, emphasizing the word by placing a hand on her pussy, separated from him by only her knickers and a cotton nightdress. Harry lifted his head, and she could see the desire in his eyes and the heat emanating from his body.
A shock of pleasure ran through her body and she thrust her hips into his palm, making them both hiss. Locking her eyes with his, she took the hand on her pussy and laced her fingers with his. She then lifted her nightdress with her free hand and shimmied her knickers down her hips, letting them fall onto the floor before placing his hand on her damp curls.
Harry swallowed and his eyes grew wide before he smiled. A finger dipped inside her, making her groan as it tentatively stroked her inner walls. She shivered in response, wishing he would just get on with it. He leaned forward, kissing her hard, his tongue delving inside her mouth while his finger sped up to slide in and out of her in delicious strokes. Her hips moved against him, just grazing her clit against him. She wanted to feel more, to have him bring her off and make her melt in his embrace.
"Clit," she muttered in the middle of a kiss. "Remember?" He'd touched her only a few times in the past, and had been a very fast learner.
"Yeah." His thumb found her tender nub and circled around it with just enough pressure to make her break their kiss and her head to fall back. He continued circling the sensitive area and then added another finger. Her breathing quickened and her heart felt like it would fly out of her chest. She was nearing release when he pressed hard against her nub, shooting pleasure up her body until it broke free and she let out a scream, which he quickly silenced with his mouth, kissing her while she rode out the crest of her orgasm. When they pulled apart, he was watching her intently, as if he could eat her up.
As her body settled, her hand reached down to his pyjamas. All that separated his cock and her pussy was a bit of plaid flannel fabric. It could be so easy to pull the waistband down over his stiff cock and wrap her legs around him, welcoming him into her body and shoving his noble nature aside. Ginny grinned slyly and gave his cock a squeeze.
"Well? Want some help?"
Harry answered by sighing and closing his eyes. Her hand reached in and stoked his curly hair before grasping him at the base of his cock and squeezing him down toward the tip. His hips lurched forward as she stroked the head, teasing it with her thumb. She took his earlobe between her teeth and sucked in time with the pulls on his cock. Soon, his thrusts became erratic and a hand went to her lower back, holding her tight against him as he came, filling her fist with his essence, hot and sticky and absolutely wonderful.
He fell against her, pushing her against the shelves behind her. The weight of him against her felt incredible and with her clean hand, she held him and felt his heart pounding against her body. His hot breath played against her neck and then he licked the sweat with his tongue before going to her ear.
"Can we do this again?" He sounded like he was laughing. "I mean, whenever we see each other." Harry lifted his head to look at her.
"Tired of wanking, Harry?" she teased and smiled when he blushed. "I'll take whatever you can give. Even if we're not dating."
"Brilliant."
VI. In Ginny's Room
Ginny climbed the stairs of The Burrow to her bedroom feeling exhausted, exhilarated and thrilled. It was the end of an extremely amazing day: her eighteenth birthday and the day she signed her contract with the Holyhead Harpies. Her party, an all day affair, had been amazing beyond words. There was a four-tiered birthday cake, a huge signing bonus, Victoire was over the colic, and her family and many friends surrounded her.
Perhaps one of the most unusual things at the party was that she and Harry kept their hands off each other for the entire time. Ever since New Years', their physical relationship had changed dramatically. Harry used any excuse to visit her in Hogsmeade and they would snog and do most anything they wanted with their bodies. Things came to a head when he came for the Quidditch cup game and they had sex for the first time. Once they started, they couldn't stop. They made it perfectly clear with each other that they were not dating, but merely "shag mates," which was Harry's word for it. They fucked wherever there was a flat surface, horizontal or vertical. Even though she told herself many times that her emotions weren't involved, there were times where she let her mind wander and pretend that he loved her.
Grasping the door handle, she opened the door of her bedroom, ready to fall into bed and sleep until tomorrow afternoon.
"I thought you'd never get up here," Harry said in a sultry drawl. He glided across the floor and swept her into his arms. "I'm so proud of you." He kissed her deeply, probing her mouth with his tongue, making her forget to breathe. She replied with a moan, wrapping her legs around his waist and letting her hands wander around his shoulder and back.
"You...looked...better than...the cake," she said between breaths, sighing when he began licking her neck. "Clothes off. Now."
Harry abruptly set her on the floor. "Oh you'll just have to wait. Tonight is all about you." The way he said it left no room for argument and she stood before him, watching with wide eyes as he slowly unbuttoned her shirt and slid it off her shoulders, letting it drift to the floor.
"But...here?" she choked out. They'd never had sex in her room-or inside The Burrow, for that matter. It was a sort of an unspoken rule between them.
"Didn't think you'd come over." He dropped his head to kiss the rise of her breasts and moved one hand to her back to release her bra. Once she was topless, he moved his mouth to take a nipple between his lips and caressed her other breast. She groaned and held onto him; her knees felt like jelly.
Ginny tried to hurry him along by pulling on his head, but he batted her hand away. When she tugged on his arm, he picked her up and carried her to the bed to lie on top of her, resuming his ministrations on her breasts. Effectively trapped beneath him, Ginny let the sensations wash over her as his mouth went lower and lower until her stopped right above her jeans.
"You never did let me do this," he said with a wicked grin. "You're always in too much of a hurry."
Before she could protest, his hands went to work at her zipper and button. At his unspoken command, she lifted her hips. With a few tugs and some shimmies, she lay naked on the bed.
Ginny tried to understand what was going on. They'd never had much foreplay, preferring to just get on with things, and rarely fucked on a bed. A flutter in her stomach made her wonder if, finally, things were changing, but she'd think about that later. His mouth began travelling down her thighs, stopping to spread her legs. With gentle hands, he caressed her thighs and moved his hands underneath her to squeeze her buttocks, before moving back to the top of her legs.
"Ready?"
Oh god, was all she could think as he placed his mouth on her inner thigh, just to the side of her crotch. The feel of his hot breath made gooseflesh appear along her body. His lips trailed a hot path down to her knee and then moved on to the other thigh, repeated the earlier path. When he reached her curls, he placed his fingers on her lower lips and spread them apart. He began to lick.
"Fuck!" she shouted, her hips lifting off the bed with his tongue on her clit. He only chuckled as he continued to lick her like an ice cream cone, up and down her slick pussy. Her eyes rolled back when he sucked her clit into his mouth and slipped two fingers inside her, moving in time with the pulls on her clit. Faster and faster he went, and her hips eagerly rose to encourage him on. The tingling built into a blistering pleasure, cresting in an earth-shattering orgasm, sending jolts of lightening through her body. She'd never felt anything like it before.
In the glow of candles she hadn't noticed before, Harry drew back from her, kneeling on the bed and pulled off his shirt. She ached to touch his chest and feel the soft hair between his nipples. She caught his gaze, amazed at the tenderness she saw there. She'd seen that look before: snogging near the lake at Hogwarts, breaking up with her at Dumbledore's funeral, kissing her on his seventeenth birthday. Her breath hitched.
"What's wrong?" he whispered, bending forward and kissing her lightly. "You looked good enough to eat today and I've had a raging hard-on all day."
"Just get naked, Harry. I wanna watch," she whispered and he smiled. He stood up and slowly undid the button of his Muggle jeans; she had noticed the way those jeans had hugged his arse all day. Then came the sound of the metal zipper and she groaned, knowing that soon he'd pull down his boxers and his rock-hard cock would burst free of its constraints. She wasn't disappointed when his cock bobbed out and she licked her lips, aching to have it inside her.
Wordlessly, he lay on the bed next to her and she welcomed him, moving him between her legs and wrapping them around his hips. Harry tossed his glasses onto the chair next to the bed and leaned down to kiss her again, his cock pressed between them. Ginny reached down a hand to push him toward her centre. She wanted him badly and didn't need any more preparation. Her hand grazed against the tip and he hissed.
"Eager? Fine, you take the lead." He quickly put his hands on her hips and flipped them over, so she looked down at him. He was so beautiful in the faint light. Ginny reached out and brushed his hair back from his face, lingering at his cheek, tracing the cheekbone with her thumb. She sat astride him for a few moments, taking in the look of him so relaxed. She indulged in a recurring fantasy that he really loved her and had just said the words she'd pent up inside for several months. She didn't mean to fall in love with him again. It just happened.
Her hands moved to his chest, savouring the baby soft hairs on his chest and massaging his skin. They travelled down his stomach in circular patterns; she wanted to touch as much of him as she could for they rarely took this much time. At his hips, one hand went to his cock and the other touched her pussy. He groaned as he watched her. She squeezed him softly and then rose up onto her knees, moving him where she needed him, and then sank down, sheathing his hot flesh inside her own.
"Oh..." she whispered once he was fully inside her, closing her eyes. Her hips began lifting, then swirling with slow movements, trying to find a good rhythm while trying to hit her good spots. Her hands went to her breasts and she began kneading and tweaking the nipples into hard peaks.
Below her, she felt his hips meet the rise and fall of her own. His hands went to her hips and held her against him. He was close. Their movements became more ragged, less fluid. Her clit rubbed against his pubic bone. He made grunting sounds and when she opened her eyes, his lower lip was clenched between his teeth; he was waiting for her.
"Come for me, Harry," she urged, desperately wanting to feel him fill her. She swirled harder against him and clenched her inner muscles tightly around him. She rose up a bit and then slammed down on him, bringing moans and guttural noises from his throat; he sounded damn sexy.
With a growl, he sat up, clasping her in his arms and kissing her. Their tongues and lips moved wildly together. He held her tight, his hips thrusting up against her while she frantically moved back and forth. Harry broke their kiss with a groan and came, shooting into her. She was so close; she felt the tingles work their way up from her toes and begin to settle in her hips. Still hard inside her, Harry kept thrusting and holding her, begging her with his body to follow him.
"I...I..." he panted in time with his thrusts."Ginny..."
The tingles grew in intensity, growing into pulses and throbs, until she gasped for air as her orgasm overtook her, stifling a scream inside her throat. Thoroughly spent, Ginny collapsed onto his chest and felt his arms wrap around her. He turned them to the side and they wiggled underneath the covers. Once settled, his arms caressed her back, her arms and her buttocks, making her feel safe and loved. She kissed his chest and began moving her hands the same manner Harry had. Contentment rushed through her.
They were breaking another one of their unspoken rules: never sleep together. Ginny was usually the one to leave, as they'd never had sex here before tonight. Other times, of course, they never made it to a bed. She liked listening to his breathing slow and feeling his skin against hers.
She began drifting off to sleep, content and pleased with herself. There may be hell to pay in the morning if her mother found them like this, but Ginny didn't care. This is where she most wanted to be-with Harry.
Even if they weren't dating.
Bacon woke him up. It was always a welcome aroma in the morning, when his senses were beginning to rouse him and his mind was free to wander or plan for the new day.
The scent of raspberry startled him and it only came from source: Ginny.
His eyes flew open and sure enough, there she was, naked and curled up next to him, in his arms, a pleasant weight he could grow accustomed to if he allowed himself to chase his dream. His left leg absently curled over her thigh, drawing her closer toward him.
Harry knew this morning couldn't last. They'd never stayed the night with each other and made every effort to part before getting too comfortable. He tried to etch the emotions, smells and touches of this morning and last evening; they had to be enough until she woke up and came to her senses. Last night, he came so close to opening up and telling her how he felt. The words were on the tip of his tongue and it took a great amount of self-control to do it.
Ginny moved a hand over his chest and toward his shoulder. She was awake. Harry pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.
"Hi."
"Hi," she answered, gifting him with a bright smile. "This is nice."
If it were up to him, they'd spend all day here, warm and cozy in their own cocoon, making love over and over again until they either fell asleep or couldn't manage again.
"Yeah. You have nice skin." Blimey, that was fucking lame.
She giggled and ran her hands over his chest, then down toward his hips. "So do you." One hand reached between his legs, making him hiss. "We should get up."
As much as he'd love to go downstairs with Ginny and proclaim his love for her to the entire Weasley family, it wasn't the right thing to do. "I should go," Harry said hurriedly and reached for the covers. She grabbed his arm.
"I'm leaving in a few days," she purred in that tone of voice that he couldn't resist. "And training camp means no visitors. And that means I'll be randy. Randy without you." Ginny pouted and there was no way he'd get out of bed anytime soon.
They reached for each other and kissed desperately. His resolve quickly melted away and he moved over her, looking down at the woman he loved.
"Ginny! Breakfast's ready!"
Gunny pushed Harry off her and he landed on the floor. The doorknob jiggled on the other side.
"What's wrong, dear? Are you hurt?" The knob jiggled again. "Why is the door locked?"
"Get dressed!" Ginny whispered harshly. "Thank Merlin you locked the door." She scrambled for clothes, pulling on her discarded knickers and Harry's t-shirt. "Why aren't you dressed?"
"You're wearing my shirt," he hissed before casting a Disillusionment Charm on himself. "Talk to your mum!"
Ginny crossed the room and took a deep breath before whispering "Alohomora" and opening the door.
"Morning, Mum!" she said cheerily, leaning against the doorframe, trying to hide Harry, even though he was well hidden with the spell.
"Come downstairs, dear. We've a busy day." Mrs. Weasley tried to push past Ginny but she blocked her mother's progress into the room.
"Doing what?"
"Finding you a flat, of course. Now come on, then. Get yourself ready." Mrs. Weasley turned around and Harry felt an enormous sense of relief. He really needed to get out of there. Ginny stepped to shut the door, but was stopped by her mother turning around brusquely.
"What?"
"Harry has a shirt just like that. I think he wore it last night." Mrs. Weasley poked her head in the room and looked around Ginny before gifting her with a quizzical look.
Ginny sighed. "Well it's mine. Or did you think Harry slept over, made mad passionate love to me and then left his shirt behind?"
Oh, bugger, now she'd done it, Harry moaned silently.
Mrs. Weasley turned red and shook her head. "Sorry. Just come down when you're ready."She gave Ginny a pat on the head and turned around to head down the hall. Ginny slammed the door and spun around. She was white as a sheet.
"That was close."
Harry lifted the charm and stood up, searching for his jeans once again. "Why did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Tell her what happened last night." He found his denims and jumped into them, hurriedly fastening the zip. "That was stupid."
"She didn't believe me, Harry. She knows there's nothing going on with us."
His heart sank and he tightened his jaw. "I have to go." He stepped back, ready to Disapparate home. Before he could, however, Ginny stepped in front of him and pulled the shirt off, revealing her breasts. His mouth fell open and he stood there, open-mouthed.
"Here's your shirt." She tossed it at him. "Now go. You're not going down to breakfast, remember?"
He nodded, closed his eyes and concentrated on his destination with determination and deliberation. After he reappeared at home and checked all his body parts, Harry finally let out his breath. He ran both hands through his hair and then slammed them against the wall.
"We should be dating."
VII. With Hermione
"Ginny, I think this trunk will do nicely in here for storage," Hermione chimed from the sitting room of Ginny's new flat.
"Er, yeah, that's fine." Ginny shook her head from her spot in the bedroom. She had two trunks and frankly didn't know which one Hermione was talking about. One was a battered old trunk she took with her to Hogwarts, which had once belonged to her uncle Fabien. The other was an even older one that never shut correctly.
"This flat lid can double as an end table for you, too."
"Yeah, fine," Ginny answered, not really paying attention to what was said from the other room.
She went back to putting away her clothes into the cupboard and began humming to herself. She was rather pleased with herself, having managed to find a flat so soon. It was a nice little walk up on a cosy street in Cardiff in a little wizarding neighbourhood. Her landlady was a gentle old woman, a Quidditch fan, who only let to Harpies. The flat was small, but suited Ginny just fine: a kitchen with space for a table, a front room with a tiny fireplace connected to the Floo Network, a nice bedroom and best of all, her own bathroom. Eighteen years of sharing a bathroom was more than enough for her.
After placing her jumpers in a drawer, Ginny noticed the lack of noise coming from the other room. Hermione was notorious for making noise as she did things like arranging furniture; something was going on.
"Damn," she whispered to herself and spun around to find Hermione standing in the doorway with pieces of parchment in her hands. More specifically, she held letters written by Harry that contained rather graphic passages about his and Ginny's sex life. Letters that were stored in her flat-topped Hogwarts trunk.
"How long have you been sleeping with Harry?" Hermione cocked her head to the side.
"Er, well...Can I have those back?" Ginny felt her face grow warm. "They're private."
Hermione guffawed, "I should hope so. I don't think you'll be sharing these with anyone. So, answer the question."
"Since...kidditchup," Ginny mumbled and held her hand out.
"And how long have you been dating?" A smile spread across Hermione's face. "Can't believe you've kept it a secret for so long." She handed over the letters, which Ginny grabbed and tossed onto the bed.
"We're not. We're...shag mates." That phrase sounded a lot seedier saying it out loud to someone else.
"Ginny..." Hermione sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to her, which Ginny gladly moved toward. "Why?" Her face was sympathetic and full of concern. As much as Ginny would like to admit, she really needed to talk to someone about it.
"That's all he's ready for. It started out with snogging and he got all tetchy about me being at school and how he shouldn't have done it. Then on New Year's," she paused, looking in a clean corner so she wouldn't have to look at Hermione, "we did some stuff and he wanted to keep doing it."
"So you have sex without an emotional connection? That's just not right," Hermione stated.
Ginny sighed. "My emotions are involved."
"Is that enough? Don't you want the same from him?"
She turned toward her friend and gathered her thoughts carefully. "Sometimes I do. I get glimpses of what it was like back at school with him. The way he looks at me. A touch sometimes."
"Do you love him?"
"I think you already know that answer. But what about Harry?" She couldn't deal with hearing him say that she meant nothing to him.
"He never stopped caring about you. He watched you when we were gone. On the Marauder's Map. He'd check on you to make sure you were okay. He talked about you in his sleep. He keeps a picture of you in the defence book Remus and Sirius gave him."
Ginny bit her lower lip to stop from tearing up. "I can't just blurt out how I feel about him."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "WHY NOT? When have you ever known him to do things directly when it came to romance? And the kiss in the common room doesn't count. That was all you."
That was true. From what Ginny had heard, he just sort of "fell into" kissing Cho Chang and was rather inept at keeping things going with the Ravenclaw bitch. Even when she was with him, he was tentative and let Ginny take the lead in most things.
"I'm gonna have to bite the vomit bean, aren't I?"
VIII. At the Right Place
"Harry...Harry...oooh...Harry, stop," Ginny pleaded, not believing she'd just said those words.
"Wut?" He released her nipple from his mouth with a slurp. "What's wrong?" His hair was more mussed than usual and his eyes were half-glazed. He looked delicious.
Ginny closed her eyes to fight the temptation to continue what they were doing. After returning from dinner at a pub in Cardiff, she and Harry had sat on the couch talking about Quidditch, Auror training and her family. During a lull in the conversation, they turned toward one another and just...attacked each other. As they snogged and felt their way around each other's bodies, Ginny kept thinking of the conversation she'd had with Hermione a few days ago. The shagging for shagging's sake had to end one way or another. She just hoped things wouldn't end the way she feared.
She scooted to the edge of the couch and pulled her bra back in place before pulling her shirt down. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes to prepare, she thought about what she was going to say. After a couple seconds, she felt his hand on hers.
"You can tell me. Whatever it is."
Ginny opened her eyes, and there it was: the look that spoke volumes, the one that said he cared far more for her than he let on.
"I can't do this anymore," she said softly.
"This?" Harry bit his bottom lip and she knew he had cottoned on to what she meant.
"I know we said we'd just have fun..."
"It's been great fun," he interrupted with a chuckle and she couldn't help but smile along with him.
"I mean...I really like spending time with you." Oh Merlin, that sounded lame.
"Me, too." His thumb began caressing the flesh between her thumb and index finger.
"When we...well, at New Year's..." She groaned in frustration. Why was it so hard to say this? She knew she wanted more, knew how she felt and how good things could be between them. Once she said the words, she couldn't take them back.
"When we got off in the scullery?" His smile grew increasingly wicked. "I've never been able to back in there and not get a hard-on."
Her mouth fell open. "What? Oh my God, Harry, that's...that's..." Words failed her. It was sexy and depraved and rather disgusting all at the same time. But mostly sexy.
"Annoying when your mum needs help. Everywhere I look brings back memories of how you feel, taste and smell. I love the way you smell."
"I smell?" The corners of her mouth twitched.
"Your hair smells like raspberries. Your skin smells like clean, fresh air. The scent of your pussy makes me randy and I..."
"Finish it, Harry. We need to talk about this." She lifted their hands and kissed the back of his hand. "And you...what...?"
He was silent for some time, holding her hand tightly in his. She knew he was trying to figure out what to say; she didn't quite know what to say at this point, either.
"I want...I want to be with you all the time." Harry released her hand and placed his on her cheek. "I want it all to be real."
"What we've been doing's felt real to me," she teased. He was going to have to say it, she'd decided that much. He started it, after all.
He gave her a shy, half-smile. "Yeah. But I want..."
"More," they whispered at the same time. Ginny let out her breath and Harry's smile grew to brighten his eyes and she barely had time to let things register before he pulled her into his strong, warm embrace.
"I thought if I pretended I didn't care, it'd be easier," he whispered into her hair.
"I've always cared, Harry." Ginny pulled back and moved into his lap. "I never stopped."
"Then why'd you agree?" His hands began swirling movements along her back.
Tilting her head to the side, she said, "I told you I'd take whatever you could give. It was pathetic, but that's how much I wanted you in my life. I don't regret it." She reached up and smoothed his hair just to have something to do. "I love you." She felt lighter, finally having said it.
"I've never heard anyone say that to me," he said, his voice low and seductive. "And I've never said it to anyone, either. Until now. I love you, Ginny."
She'd never heard anything so precious nor would she ever tire hearing it. However, things had turned a tad too serious for her.
"But Harry," she said with a gleam in her eye, "we aren't even dating."