her bouquet's not made of roses (harry/ginny, pg)
Title: her bouquet's not made of roses
Author: pumpkinpasty @ pumpkin_fics
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1281
Summary: Harry walks into Ginny's room at an inopportune moment.
Notes: Written and posted in a comment many many eons ago -- pre-Deathly Hallows, I think. Still entirely appropriate, though, if I do say so myself. Featuring horny!nosy!Harry. For rosebay_fairie, who years ago requested ginny, pink, and flowers.
---
Harry really should have knocked.
He was headed upstairs, on Mrs Weasley's orders, to give Ginny her bouquet, and was just about to knock when the twins came barrelling upstairs, their dress robes covered in something that looked suspiciously like wedding cake. Visions of a furious Mrs Weasley and an enraged Fleur charging through his mind, he twisted the doorknob, pushed in the door, and leapt out of the way.
"Sorry, Harry -- "
"Mum's after us -- "
"Must get through -- "
Harry raised his eyebrows, bit back laughter, and watched as they skipped steps to the third floor landing. Then he turned around and felt himself go hot all over.
Ginny was standing there, in front of the mirror on her bureau, clad only in dark knickers and sliding her shimmery bridesmaid's dress over her hips.
Harry gasped and nearly tripped backwards as he fumbled for the door. "Sorry - " he said, scrunching his eyes shut. "Sorry -"
He heard Ginny laugh, and he squinted in what hoped was an inconspicuous way. "You can open your eyes, you know," she said. "It's not anything you haven't seen before."
She slid her arms into the sleeves and put her hands on her hips. He gave an awkward half smile, breathed a sigh of relief, and edged toward her bed.
"Yeah," he said, "but, y'know - before, I was allowed." Harry ran his fingers through his hair and sank into her mattress. Ginny rolled her eyes and he fidgeted, twirling the bouquet in his hand.
Harry glanced around the room. He'd only ever been in Ginny's room once before, to deliver a letter an owl had brought her, and even then he had only stood in the doorway. Hers had always been the only room Ron never entered, and he had always suspected this was because it contained something intensely girly. Why else would Ron have avoided it? But looking around now - the walls were a pale yellow; the trim was blue; and the only pink in sight was stitched into the shabby blanket he sat on - he found he rather liked it. He settled back against the pillows and watched her brush pale powder over her cheeks.
"Ron never comes in here," he remarked, glancing at her bookshelf. Ginny snorted, and a cloud of white powder burst from the container beneath her nose. She coughed, then sneezed. Harry snickered.
"That's because the last time he came in here, I hexed him, and when he told Mum, she told him to let me have my privacy," Ginny said, her eyes watering as she waved away the powder. Harry raised his eyebrows.
"Why?"
"I was twelve," she said. "And I'm a girl." Harry shook his head, laughing, and Ginny grinned. Then - "Hey," she said, "would you hand me that blue comb? It's on the table, there - yeah, that one - thanks."
Harry looked at the bedside table. A little round clock sat on top of a leather bound book; if he leaned close enough and held his breath, he could hear the clock ticking. Twisting his head, he pushed the clock aside to read the title of the book; instead, he say only a small lock, barely large enough to fit a pin-sized key.
"You're nosy today," Ginny said, and Harry jumped.
"Sorry - I didn't mean to - it's just - you still keep a diary?"
Ginny looked at him sharply.
"Yes," she said, in a way that made him positive he was pushing his luck. Not keen on pushing it any further, he sat up.
"Mum send you to bring those?" asked Ginny, nodding at the flowers in his lap. He nodded sheepishly as she turned towards the mirror, reaching her hand behind her back for something.
"Yeah," he said, jumping up, "here - " He set the bundle on the bureau, then backed towards the door, glancing around once more. "Right. I'll just get out of your way, then -- Ron's probably looking for me, or something..."
He trailed off and watched as Ginny twisted in front of the mirror, struggling with the zip on the back of her dress. She didn't appear to have heard him; on the contrary, her brow was furrowed and she was swearing under her breath.
"Stupid - bloody - dress - "
Harry hesitated at the doorway. "Er," he said, louder this time, "I'm going downstairs."
"No, wait," she said, straightening up. "C'mere and help me with this. Please," she added, and smiled slightly.
Harry stood behind her as she smoothed and straightened her dress before the mirror, and he flushed as he saw how long the slit in the dress was - it travelled the length of her back and the swell of her bum, where - oh god - he could see her lacy black knickers, peering out from beneath the too-thin fabric of her dress. He took the tiny metal zip delicately between two fingers and swallowed, hard. He was hot all over, again, and he found he couldn't quite breathe; suddenly, his own dress robes were suffocating.
"Are you okay, Harry?" Ginny asked, and he jumped, gasping and yanking the little zipper up sharply, where it caught in her long, coppery waves of hair. "OW!" she yelped, and Harry jumped again, pulling his hand away from her back as though it had been stung.
"Sorry! Oh, shit - I'm sorry - hang on - I'll get it - " he stammered. He had managed to snare a large chunk of her hair, and she tilted her head back to ease the pull on her scalp. Harry bent low and took the knot in his hands, frowning and biting his lip in concentration. Somehow, he had zipped her hair into the dress, and he stood there for what seemed like ages, trying to pull each strand out, one by one.
His hands worked quickly, but he was flustered and kept pulling her hair tighter. "Ouch!" she said again, after he accidentally tore out a few strands.
"Sorry, sorry - I didn't mean to - " His back was starting to ache.
"This hurts," she interrupted. Her hand twisted around her back, and her fingers joined his just as he was working out a large knot. He swatted them away.
"Hang on," he said, "I've almost got it."
"You said that five minutes ago - "
"Five minutes ago I was lying - "
"Hurry up - " Her fingers reached for the zip again; he knocked them away with his elbow.
"I'm almost there - "
"Think of how angry Fleur's going to be when she sees one of her bridesmaids has got a bald spot,” said Ginny. Harry bit his lip in concentration.
"Got it!"
He released her hair (a few strands came off in his hands, but he brushed them away), and she held her hair high as he zipped the dress up completely. Then she whirled around, rubbing at a spot on the back of her neck.
Harry ran his hands through his hair. "Sorry," he said again. She shook her head.
"It's fine," she said. Harry took in her appearance - her sort-of-sparkly gold dress, which clung to her hips and the curve of her breasts, the light pink colour painted on her lips, the gentle ringlets in her hair - and suddenly, he felt very stupid.
"You look - er - nice," he said, wringing his hands. She smiled and blushed.
"Thanks."
Harry hesitated. "Ginny?" She looked up at him, her eyes bright.
"Ginny, I - I'm sorry."
She stretched on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then pulled away and eyed him sadly.
"So am I."
---
Feedback is appreciated!
Author: pumpkinpasty @ pumpkin_fics
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1281
Summary: Harry walks into Ginny's room at an inopportune moment.
Notes: Written and posted in a comment many many eons ago -- pre-Deathly Hallows, I think. Still entirely appropriate, though, if I do say so myself. Featuring horny!nosy!Harry. For rosebay_fairie, who years ago requested ginny, pink, and flowers.
---
Harry really should have knocked.
He was headed upstairs, on Mrs Weasley's orders, to give Ginny her bouquet, and was just about to knock when the twins came barrelling upstairs, their dress robes covered in something that looked suspiciously like wedding cake. Visions of a furious Mrs Weasley and an enraged Fleur charging through his mind, he twisted the doorknob, pushed in the door, and leapt out of the way.
"Sorry, Harry -- "
"Mum's after us -- "
"Must get through -- "
Harry raised his eyebrows, bit back laughter, and watched as they skipped steps to the third floor landing. Then he turned around and felt himself go hot all over.
Ginny was standing there, in front of the mirror on her bureau, clad only in dark knickers and sliding her shimmery bridesmaid's dress over her hips.
Harry gasped and nearly tripped backwards as he fumbled for the door. "Sorry - " he said, scrunching his eyes shut. "Sorry -"
He heard Ginny laugh, and he squinted in what hoped was an inconspicuous way. "You can open your eyes, you know," she said. "It's not anything you haven't seen before."
She slid her arms into the sleeves and put her hands on her hips. He gave an awkward half smile, breathed a sigh of relief, and edged toward her bed.
"Yeah," he said, "but, y'know - before, I was allowed." Harry ran his fingers through his hair and sank into her mattress. Ginny rolled her eyes and he fidgeted, twirling the bouquet in his hand.
Harry glanced around the room. He'd only ever been in Ginny's room once before, to deliver a letter an owl had brought her, and even then he had only stood in the doorway. Hers had always been the only room Ron never entered, and he had always suspected this was because it contained something intensely girly. Why else would Ron have avoided it? But looking around now - the walls were a pale yellow; the trim was blue; and the only pink in sight was stitched into the shabby blanket he sat on - he found he rather liked it. He settled back against the pillows and watched her brush pale powder over her cheeks.
"Ron never comes in here," he remarked, glancing at her bookshelf. Ginny snorted, and a cloud of white powder burst from the container beneath her nose. She coughed, then sneezed. Harry snickered.
"That's because the last time he came in here, I hexed him, and when he told Mum, she told him to let me have my privacy," Ginny said, her eyes watering as she waved away the powder. Harry raised his eyebrows.
"Why?"
"I was twelve," she said. "And I'm a girl." Harry shook his head, laughing, and Ginny grinned. Then - "Hey," she said, "would you hand me that blue comb? It's on the table, there - yeah, that one - thanks."
Harry looked at the bedside table. A little round clock sat on top of a leather bound book; if he leaned close enough and held his breath, he could hear the clock ticking. Twisting his head, he pushed the clock aside to read the title of the book; instead, he say only a small lock, barely large enough to fit a pin-sized key.
"You're nosy today," Ginny said, and Harry jumped.
"Sorry - I didn't mean to - it's just - you still keep a diary?"
Ginny looked at him sharply.
"Yes," she said, in a way that made him positive he was pushing his luck. Not keen on pushing it any further, he sat up.
"Mum send you to bring those?" asked Ginny, nodding at the flowers in his lap. He nodded sheepishly as she turned towards the mirror, reaching her hand behind her back for something.
"Yeah," he said, jumping up, "here - " He set the bundle on the bureau, then backed towards the door, glancing around once more. "Right. I'll just get out of your way, then -- Ron's probably looking for me, or something..."
He trailed off and watched as Ginny twisted in front of the mirror, struggling with the zip on the back of her dress. She didn't appear to have heard him; on the contrary, her brow was furrowed and she was swearing under her breath.
"Stupid - bloody - dress - "
Harry hesitated at the doorway. "Er," he said, louder this time, "I'm going downstairs."
"No, wait," she said, straightening up. "C'mere and help me with this. Please," she added, and smiled slightly.
Harry stood behind her as she smoothed and straightened her dress before the mirror, and he flushed as he saw how long the slit in the dress was - it travelled the length of her back and the swell of her bum, where - oh god - he could see her lacy black knickers, peering out from beneath the too-thin fabric of her dress. He took the tiny metal zip delicately between two fingers and swallowed, hard. He was hot all over, again, and he found he couldn't quite breathe; suddenly, his own dress robes were suffocating.
"Are you okay, Harry?" Ginny asked, and he jumped, gasping and yanking the little zipper up sharply, where it caught in her long, coppery waves of hair. "OW!" she yelped, and Harry jumped again, pulling his hand away from her back as though it had been stung.
"Sorry! Oh, shit - I'm sorry - hang on - I'll get it - " he stammered. He had managed to snare a large chunk of her hair, and she tilted her head back to ease the pull on her scalp. Harry bent low and took the knot in his hands, frowning and biting his lip in concentration. Somehow, he had zipped her hair into the dress, and he stood there for what seemed like ages, trying to pull each strand out, one by one.
His hands worked quickly, but he was flustered and kept pulling her hair tighter. "Ouch!" she said again, after he accidentally tore out a few strands.
"Sorry, sorry - I didn't mean to - " His back was starting to ache.
"This hurts," she interrupted. Her hand twisted around her back, and her fingers joined his just as he was working out a large knot. He swatted them away.
"Hang on," he said, "I've almost got it."
"You said that five minutes ago - "
"Five minutes ago I was lying - "
"Hurry up - " Her fingers reached for the zip again; he knocked them away with his elbow.
"I'm almost there - "
"Think of how angry Fleur's going to be when she sees one of her bridesmaids has got a bald spot,” said Ginny. Harry bit his lip in concentration.
"Got it!"
He released her hair (a few strands came off in his hands, but he brushed them away), and she held her hair high as he zipped the dress up completely. Then she whirled around, rubbing at a spot on the back of her neck.
Harry ran his hands through his hair. "Sorry," he said again. She shook her head.
"It's fine," she said. Harry took in her appearance - her sort-of-sparkly gold dress, which clung to her hips and the curve of her breasts, the light pink colour painted on her lips, the gentle ringlets in her hair - and suddenly, he felt very stupid.
"You look - er - nice," he said, wringing his hands. She smiled and blushed.
"Thanks."
Harry hesitated. "Ginny?" She looked up at him, her eyes bright.
"Ginny, I - I'm sorry."
She stretched on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then pulled away and eyed him sadly.
"So am I."
---
Feedback is appreciated!