FIC: Surprises, by BeccaFran
Title: Surprises
Author: r_becca
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Rating: R
Length: ~1200 words
Summary: Plan for many pleasures ahead (in bed)
Notes: Written for the hpgw_otp fortune cookie challenge. Thanks to lyras for beta-reading.
Ginny steps into her boots, pulls on a cloak, and steps outside into the snowy yard. Inside, the house is bustling and busy and full of people rushing about like mad. But outside, it's peaceful: cold and quiet and the moonlight reflects off the white snow. She follows the single line of footsteps that leads away from the back door to the shed, and when she rounds the corner, she stops for a moment to watch.
Inside her dad's shed, lit by the warm glow of spell-light, Harry is entirely focused on Sirius's motorbike. He is wearing just a thin t-shirt and jeans, so he must've cast a warming charm as well. His muscles shift and flex below the shirt, and she can see a thin sheen of sweat across his forehead. Harry stops to drag one forearm across his face, and the bottom of his t-shirt rides up, exposing the thin trail of hair that leads downward from his navel.
Her mouth is dry, and she swallows to compensate.
Dinner is being served inside, and someone could come out here at any moment, but Ginny doesn't care. She knows what she wants, and she's had enough of waiting for one lifetime.
She steps inside the shed and drops her cloak at Harry's feet. "Don't move," she says, threatening him with her wand.
"All right," says Harry, sounding amused.
When she drops to her knees and begins to unfasten his flies, he makes a noise that sounds significantly less amused and more amazed.
And when she opens her mouth and sucks him in, and the bitter flavor of him coats her tongue, he holds on to the table for support and says words that are entirely unintelligible.
----------
Outside the window, a wintry landscape rushes by. The train rattles and sways as it travels north out of London. Harry makes his way unsteadily along the corridor, passing wide-eyed first-years at every door. Hermione would say it was impossible, but he could swear that he was never that small. The sound of awed whispers follows him everywhere he goes. He's used to it now, but that doesn't mean he'll ever be comfortable with the attention. He can feel the pressure of all the little eyes gazing up at him, the force of those whispers. It makes his skin crawl.
He takes a deep breath and straightens his shoulders. Those whispers mean nothing to him today; he is here for one reason and one reason only. A mission. Her last-ever trip to Hogsmeade on the train, and he will have to make it a memorable one. He owes Ginny. Call it revenge.
He'd wanted to wait until the hall is empty, but with his own presence the center of attention, that isn't going to be possible. He'll have to go with plan B, then. Pulling his wand from his pocket, he points it down the corridor and whispers a spell. A child's voice floats down the hallway -- an illusion, but it sounds real and that's all that matters. "Fight!" it cries excitedly. "Duel!"
The hallway is empty in moments.
Harry slips on the invisibility cloak over his head and the slippery material falls around him to the floor, sliding across his skin and clothes with a feeling like a cool spring breeze.
He steps up to the compartment door and looks inside. Ginny is curled up on the seat next to the window, her face turned away from Harry toward the glass. A book sits on her lap, closed and unread.
"Alohomora," Harry whispers, and the door slides slowly open, pushed by the motion of the train.
Ginny frowns in confusion and gets up to shut the door.
Harry steps inside quickly and brushes past her. As soon as she shuts the door, he leans up against her, pressing his invisible body to hers, trapping her against the door.
She gasps, filling her lungs with air and pressing her breasts against his chest.
"Sssh," he murmurs into her ear. "I just wanted to see you off, that's all."
"Harry?" she asks, biting her lip. "How do I know it's you?"
He presses his hips firmly against hers, lets her feel him hard against her hip.
"Mmmm, I see," she says, laughter in her voice. "Or rather, I don't. I think you'll have to let me under that cloak before anyone else sees, hmm?"
Harry opens the cloak for a moment and then wraps it securely around both of them, bringing her inside it with him. For a long while, the compartment appears empty to passers-by, although it seems as though a suitcase might've burst open, there are so many clothes strewn about the floor.
----------
Ginny is not meant to be here today; Harry is not expecting her for two more hours at least. It seems the perfect moment to ambush him, when he thinks she will be at her Auntie Muriel's.
His new flat is in a plain Muggle building, the sort that used to be someone's large house and is now divided into rather smaller flats. She walks up the stairs, then opens his door with a spell and slips inside silently. If she is lucky, maybe she can catch him unpacking boxes or assembling furniture or in the midst of some equally unsavory task. She has a mind to give him lots of bruises in such a way that he'll thoroughly enjoy receiving them.
She is expecting a room full of boxes and furniture waiting to be arranged. Instead, she sees a thick carpet rolled out across the floor, pillows tossed here and there. Floating in the air are at least a hundred candles, as yet unlit.
From the kitchen comes the sounds of cooking -- chopping, stirring, bustling sounds of a person preparing a meal. Creeping closer, she finds him standing beside the counter with his back to her. There are three different pots of food bubbling on the stove, releasing delicious smells. Ginny had been expecting takeaway and the forced labor of helping Harry settle in to his new flat, but it's clear that Harry has other plans for the evening.
For a while, she stands at the door and watches him. His head is tilted to the side in concentration, and his long hair curls over his collar in unruly tangles. He swipes a hand over his hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and leaves a streak of curry sauce across the black strands.
Finally he puts down the big knife he's been holding and steps away from the counter, and Ginny makes her move. In a moment he is flat on his back on the floor, and she is pressed against him, nose to nose and knees to knees.
"Ooof," he says.
"What's all this?" she asks.
"Surprise," he says, grinning broadly up at her as if his big plan had been utterly successful.
"I'm entirely shocked," she says, sounding anything but.
"Well, you'd better get used to it."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," he says. "Because I plan on surprising you for a long time to come." He pulls her head down and arches up, meeting her lips in a kiss.
Author: r_becca
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Rating: R
Length: ~1200 words
Summary: Plan for many pleasures ahead (in bed)
Notes: Written for the hpgw_otp fortune cookie challenge. Thanks to lyras for beta-reading.
Ginny steps into her boots, pulls on a cloak, and steps outside into the snowy yard. Inside, the house is bustling and busy and full of people rushing about like mad. But outside, it's peaceful: cold and quiet and the moonlight reflects off the white snow. She follows the single line of footsteps that leads away from the back door to the shed, and when she rounds the corner, she stops for a moment to watch.
Inside her dad's shed, lit by the warm glow of spell-light, Harry is entirely focused on Sirius's motorbike. He is wearing just a thin t-shirt and jeans, so he must've cast a warming charm as well. His muscles shift and flex below the shirt, and she can see a thin sheen of sweat across his forehead. Harry stops to drag one forearm across his face, and the bottom of his t-shirt rides up, exposing the thin trail of hair that leads downward from his navel.
Her mouth is dry, and she swallows to compensate.
Dinner is being served inside, and someone could come out here at any moment, but Ginny doesn't care. She knows what she wants, and she's had enough of waiting for one lifetime.
She steps inside the shed and drops her cloak at Harry's feet. "Don't move," she says, threatening him with her wand.
"All right," says Harry, sounding amused.
When she drops to her knees and begins to unfasten his flies, he makes a noise that sounds significantly less amused and more amazed.
And when she opens her mouth and sucks him in, and the bitter flavor of him coats her tongue, he holds on to the table for support and says words that are entirely unintelligible.
----------
Outside the window, a wintry landscape rushes by. The train rattles and sways as it travels north out of London. Harry makes his way unsteadily along the corridor, passing wide-eyed first-years at every door. Hermione would say it was impossible, but he could swear that he was never that small. The sound of awed whispers follows him everywhere he goes. He's used to it now, but that doesn't mean he'll ever be comfortable with the attention. He can feel the pressure of all the little eyes gazing up at him, the force of those whispers. It makes his skin crawl.
He takes a deep breath and straightens his shoulders. Those whispers mean nothing to him today; he is here for one reason and one reason only. A mission. Her last-ever trip to Hogsmeade on the train, and he will have to make it a memorable one. He owes Ginny. Call it revenge.
He'd wanted to wait until the hall is empty, but with his own presence the center of attention, that isn't going to be possible. He'll have to go with plan B, then. Pulling his wand from his pocket, he points it down the corridor and whispers a spell. A child's voice floats down the hallway -- an illusion, but it sounds real and that's all that matters. "Fight!" it cries excitedly. "Duel!"
The hallway is empty in moments.
Harry slips on the invisibility cloak over his head and the slippery material falls around him to the floor, sliding across his skin and clothes with a feeling like a cool spring breeze.
He steps up to the compartment door and looks inside. Ginny is curled up on the seat next to the window, her face turned away from Harry toward the glass. A book sits on her lap, closed and unread.
"Alohomora," Harry whispers, and the door slides slowly open, pushed by the motion of the train.
Ginny frowns in confusion and gets up to shut the door.
Harry steps inside quickly and brushes past her. As soon as she shuts the door, he leans up against her, pressing his invisible body to hers, trapping her against the door.
She gasps, filling her lungs with air and pressing her breasts against his chest.
"Sssh," he murmurs into her ear. "I just wanted to see you off, that's all."
"Harry?" she asks, biting her lip. "How do I know it's you?"
He presses his hips firmly against hers, lets her feel him hard against her hip.
"Mmmm, I see," she says, laughter in her voice. "Or rather, I don't. I think you'll have to let me under that cloak before anyone else sees, hmm?"
Harry opens the cloak for a moment and then wraps it securely around both of them, bringing her inside it with him. For a long while, the compartment appears empty to passers-by, although it seems as though a suitcase might've burst open, there are so many clothes strewn about the floor.
----------
Ginny is not meant to be here today; Harry is not expecting her for two more hours at least. It seems the perfect moment to ambush him, when he thinks she will be at her Auntie Muriel's.
His new flat is in a plain Muggle building, the sort that used to be someone's large house and is now divided into rather smaller flats. She walks up the stairs, then opens his door with a spell and slips inside silently. If she is lucky, maybe she can catch him unpacking boxes or assembling furniture or in the midst of some equally unsavory task. She has a mind to give him lots of bruises in such a way that he'll thoroughly enjoy receiving them.
She is expecting a room full of boxes and furniture waiting to be arranged. Instead, she sees a thick carpet rolled out across the floor, pillows tossed here and there. Floating in the air are at least a hundred candles, as yet unlit.
From the kitchen comes the sounds of cooking -- chopping, stirring, bustling sounds of a person preparing a meal. Creeping closer, she finds him standing beside the counter with his back to her. There are three different pots of food bubbling on the stove, releasing delicious smells. Ginny had been expecting takeaway and the forced labor of helping Harry settle in to his new flat, but it's clear that Harry has other plans for the evening.
For a while, she stands at the door and watches him. His head is tilted to the side in concentration, and his long hair curls over his collar in unruly tangles. He swipes a hand over his hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and leaves a streak of curry sauce across the black strands.
Finally he puts down the big knife he's been holding and steps away from the counter, and Ginny makes her move. In a moment he is flat on his back on the floor, and she is pressed against him, nose to nose and knees to knees.
"Ooof," he says.
"What's all this?" she asks.
"Surprise," he says, grinning broadly up at her as if his big plan had been utterly successful.
"I'm entirely shocked," she says, sounding anything but.
"Well, you'd better get used to it."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," he says. "Because I plan on surprising you for a long time to come." He pulls her head down and arches up, meeting her lips in a kiss.