(no subject)
Distracting Ginny from O.W.L.s (Episode #29)
warning: slapstick
“Why did you leave your Herbology book in your Quidditch locker?” Ginny asked, as they walked hand in hand, toes sweeping over the green grass of the Hogwart’s lawn.
“Because…” Harry explained, never tiring of Ginny’s gentle extractions, “Hermione made me and Ron go look at the Snargaluff pod one more time before she felt we were ready to write our essays. I was almost late for practice.”
“That would have been a first,” Ginny drolled.
Harry smiled into the afternoon sun as he reached for the door handle. He pulled it open and they stepped into the wan light of the locker room. He wasn’t used to it being so dim and abandoned… Or being alone in there with Ginny.
Harry skirted left, then right, veering down the row to his locker, all the while with Ginny at his side. The one three quarters of the way down on the left was his, as they both well knew. A small shadow littered the floor ahead of them. Their eyes trained on it.
“What’s that?” Ginny asked, as they pulled up to it.
Harry bent to pick up a limp bit of leather. “Keeper’s glove,” he pronounced. “Not Ron’s, is it?” Though he'd wager it wasn’t.
“No, Ron’s aren’t that nice,” Ginny dismissed.
“C.M.L.” Harry read the initials aloud, a smirk overcoming his face.
“Ooooh, it smells!” Ginny protested and waved a hand in front of her nose.
“Yes, well, just think whose it is.” Harry laughed and held it out at arm’s length.
“Or just think where it’s been,” Ginny jested. They’d shared more than one laugh over Cormac’s squid-like hands.
“Or might go…” Harry added, looking around the room for a place to dispose of it.
Ginny’s brown eyes flashed the likes of Fred and George's right before she snatched the glove from Harry, plunged it down the neck of his robes, and sprang back out of reach.
Harry did a little hex-like tap dance trying to get it out, scrubbing his front with his hands, before it finally fell out the bottom of his robes and onto the floor. He seized it. A chase around the lockers ensued, with much giggling, a couple shrieks, and a few desperate gasps for breath. Finally Harry employed his Dudley-trained stealth and speed to catch Ginny unawares at the corner, locking her in a squirm-filled embrace.
“Now…um… tell me what I should do with this…” He held the glove with flirtatious menace above their heads.
Ginny reached up and grabbed it and gave it a respectable Chaser’s toss over her shoulder.
“I think it’s served its purpose,” she breathed softly, brown eyes settling on Harry as she leaned in.
~*~
His eyes closed in anticipation. Their lips kindled together and he leaned back against the lockers, pulling Ginny against him. Fresh waves of Amortentia overtook him as her hair swirled around his face and tickled his cheek.
Each kiss started softly then increased in intensity before she pulled away. Come back…. He darted his head forward to capture her lips anew. Her hand replaced the Keeper’s glove as her small fingers worked their way around his collar where the glove had plunged earlier.
She dipped her head to nibble at his neck and a fresh wave of pleasure overtook him. He leaned his head back against the cool steel. He barely felt the small vent poking his back.
She was smiling at him when she brought her head back up and his eyes were immediately drawn to her mouth. Magnified freckles dotted the landscape around her lips.
Harry decided he needed another taste of those freckles...
But the locker burst open, sending Harry and Ginny flying across the floor. Dazed, Harry pushed up onto his elbows and checked on Ginny. She was scowling in pain, but otherwise all right. Meanwhile, sparking objects spun and whizzed above and behind lockers.
“Ow,” Ginny lamented, rubbing her elbow. Harry reached for his bruised tailbone.
“What was that?” Harry asked.
They both surveyed the folly. Fred and George’s homemade fireworks-wheels, kites, sparklers-zoomed around the room.
“Was that Fred’s old locker?” Ginny asked, face knit in rage.
“Yeah, I think it was,” Harry answered, feeling quite peeved himself.
Fred and George had always been there to help him, but maybe not where snogging their sister was concerned? Could the explosion have been more than just a coincidence?
“You don’t think-?” Harry began.
Ginny checked Harry’s face for meaning. "Think-?"
"They set that for us," he clarified.
“How could they?” Ginny gaped. “Besides, I don’t imagine Fred and George were angels in the locker room themselves.” She smirked at the thought.
“But then- “
“How did they go off?” Ginny finished for him.
“Yeah.” But in his own head he was still wondering: How did they know, more like? Those fireworks had obviously been in there for a while. Why explode now?
“I don’t know. Fred and George were messing about with motion sensor detonation last year, but I don’t think they ever got it to work. Besides, nothing moved,” Ginny reasoned.
Harry smiled in fresh amusement. “Oh, I dunno. I think I was flexing that locker a bit..." He flashed Ginny an abashed smile. "I was pinned up against the vent. Maybe my robes threaded through.”
Ginny's face flickered into a smile, but she still refused to laugh outright at Fred and George’s joke. “So, you’re saying I pinned you?”
“No…er…I’m saying- “ Harry sputtered. “I’m saying I liked it!” he declared.
Ginny leaned over and pecked him with a kiss.
“I’m just not sure I can survive going out with a girl with six brothers,” Harry sighed as he pushed off his arms to a sitting position, clapping the dust from his hands.
“Oh come on, Harry!” Ginny protested with a giggle.
“This may give new meaning to ‘The Boy Who Lived’,” he sulked.
“Harry, I’ll go hang them myself if you want,” Ginny fumed cheerfully.
“Just…uh…let’s not mention this to Ron,” Harry smirked and leaned toward Ginny for another kiss.