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Bad Reputation | ||||
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Fluff, Humor, Romance Warnings: Extreme Language, Sexual Situations Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 5 Summary: She’s said to have a bad reputation, but she’s all that he wants. Hitcount: Story Total: 3512 Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work. Author's Notes: Time for another cute little one-shot! AU (as always it seems). Harry and Ginny have never met but it is set in the magical world. TheDistantDusk and gryffindormischief were awesome with their suggestions and edits! |
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“Look over there lads.” Winston nodded his head towards the bar. Harry turned to see a group of six women gathering around the polished bar. They all wore matching uniforms. Harpie uniforms, Harry realized after studying the gold lettering on the green jerseys. “I’ve heard the Harpies are -- well --” Carter’s voice trailed off, but his wolfish smile said it all. Harry rolled his eyes. His fellow Aurors were some of the randiest people he knew. Taking a sip from his glass, he let his eyes stray back over to the Harpies. They were gathering their drinks and moving in a tight squad towards a large table on the other side of the room. The pub door opened, letting in the warm summer night air. Harry’s focus automatically drifted to see who the new arrival was. He did a double-take. It was another Harpie, based on the green kit she wore, and she was stunning. Sure, all the women that sat at the corner table were beautiful, but this one... Harry thought his heart was going to pound right out of his chest. Her red hair clashed with the uniform, making it look like Christmas had come in July (or at least Harry’s own personal Christmas). Freckles spread across her sunburned face, and Harry’s mind wondered if they went further than just her cheeks. Bloody hell, I’m no better than the rest of them if I think like that, Harry scolded himself. He forced himself to tear his eyes off her, turning his focus back to his mates. “I’ve heard Cara has a thing for Aurors.” Kole winked. “I wouldn’t mind doing a private detail on her.” Most of the table nodded their agreement, and some even raised their glasses in cheers. “I’ve heard Weasley is a ball-buster.” Leon Malcolm shook his head. He picked up a chip off his plate and pointed it at the group of players. “She doesn’t get with anyone.” “Which one is Weasley?” Carter asked, his blue eyes hopping from one woman to the next. “The redhead.” Harry felt his stomach drop as if he fell down a flight of stairs. Before he could stop his big mouth, he asked, “Does she have a boyfriend?” Malcolm turned towards Harry, an amused smile on his lips. “Nope. She just turns everyone down. Doesn’t matter who it is.” “I heard she turned down Nathan Fallen.” Kole shook his head. “If he doesn’t stand a chance, no one does.” Harry didn’t want to think Kole was right, but Nathan Fallen was one of the biggest names in the magical community, and that was without his most recent title of being the sexiest wizard alive. “Maybe she swings for the other team,” Carter suggested, his focus finally coming back their own table (but that might have just been because he wanted to finish his pie). “Nah, she turns down the ladies too.” Malcolm shrugged. “She says that Quidditch is her focus.” “Why do you know so much about this?” Harry asked. Malcolm shrugged nonchalantly, but Harry could see the tell-tale sign of red on his neck. “Magazines, some of my mates have asked her out -" “Sure,” Kole drawled the word, his smile knowing. “Some of your mates.” “Fuck off!” Malcolm punched Kole’s shoulder. “I’d like to see any of you lot get anywhere with her. She’s an ice queen, that one.” “No thanks.” Carter shook his head. “I like my balls the way they are, thanks.” Harry turned his focus back to the group of women. He could see Weasley talking, her smile crooked as she told what seemed to be a joke. The table erupted with laughter, some of the women even slapped their fists on the wood. She really was incredibly beautiful, that crooked smile just the icing on the cake. Harry had never been one for trying to chat women up in pubs. For starters, it was typically too loud to have a decent conversation, but also he was piss poor at flirting. He became a stuttering fool every time a pretty girl was involved. Not to mention it was always so awkward to try and talk to someone when they were sitting with a group of friends. In other words, Harry had low expectations for what was about to happen, but he knew he needed to try and at least talk to her or he'd regret it. Even if he came off as a pathetic loser, at least he tried. Harry downed the rest of his pint, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he stood. His mates paused their discussion of the fittest player on the Harpies. "Getting another round, Potter?" Kole asked. "If you wait a moment, I'll be ready for another." Maybe another pint was a good idea, Harry thought, some extra liquid courage. But he shook his head. "No." He cleared his throat, hoping to lose the raspy sound before he talked to her. "I'm gonna go over and talk with Weasley." His friends just blinked at him, their silence unnatural in the unruly setting. Kole’s lips twitched in a way Harry knew meant he was hiding his mirth. “Potter, are you sure you wanna do that? I’ve seen your -- er -- way with women, and I don’t think ball-buster Weasley is the one for you.” Cara and Malcolm nodded, adding in their own versions of Kole’s words. Harry couldn’t care less what his mates thought. He knew they meant well in their own way, but at that moment it didn’t matter. Steeling himself, Harry took a deep breath before walking towards the group of Harpies. Harry almost retreated three times in the short walk. His heart was pounding so hard, Harry was sure a rib or two might crack. When he was three meters away, she made eye contact with him over one of her teammate's heads. At first, he saw confusion on her face, which quickly shifted to annoyance. Harry didn’t expect anything less. She probably had blokes interrupting them all the time, when all they wanted to do was enjoy a drink. Harry stopped dead, not sure what to do next. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. Weasley’s glare changed to concern. From his spot, he could hear the Harpies squad, however faintly due to the blood beating in his ears. "But Sanders can't follow through worth anything," one of the women said, the back of her jersey naming her Bellion. "I mean, do I need to remind you all of the night me and him -" She let her sentence trail, but the emphasis was clear. Her friends laughed. "Please don't remind us of that. It's too depressing to think about," a blonde claimed around her giggles. "He looked so promising too," Bellion lamented. Then she looked up and noticed Harry. "Well, speaking of promising." Her grin becoming coquettish. The rest of the team turned to face him, some spinning in their chairs. Harry’s cheeks felt as if they were on fire, but there was no backing out now. He took a deep breath before forcing his lips into what he hoped was a suave smile. “I just wanted to say how amazing you all played against Puddlemere the other night.” It was true enough. He had listened to the match on the wireless (cheering for Puddlemere), but there was no doubt the Harpies were superior that night, as the score proved. “Thank you!” Bellion said. “That was a great match!" She turned to Weasley. "Our girl here was on fire that night!” The rest of the team cheered and toasted Weasley, who beamed. Harry had been trying to avoid looking at Weasley for fear of being a blithering idiot, but now his eyes couldn’t help but stick to her. That smile… it gripped him in an iron tight hold. Harry hoped he wasn’t smiling like a lovesick fool as he said, “Yeah, you really were amazing.” Weasley’s eyes locked onto his, and Harry was sure his entire body was about to combust. It was like her gaze was a blazing fire that she spread through him with one look. Harry had to force his brain to re-engage as the flames seemed to burn all the synapse from his mind to body. “Thank you.” Weasley’s tone didn’t help Harry regroup; the coquettish timbre made him want to fall to his knees and bow at her feet. “That’s very nice of you -- what was your name?” It took an embarrassingly long time for Harry to be able to speak his name. By their mutters, he could tell some of the women around the table had noticed his enthrallment with Weasley, but he was only concerned with the red head. Weasley didn’t seem to notice the whispers as she smiled mischievously at him. “Well, Harry. If you were so impressed with our playing, how about you buy the next round?” The squad cheered at her suggestion. Before Harry could agree, as one the ladies downed the remainder of their drinks. Weasley, who had finished her drink before the rest, pushed away from the table. "I'll give you a hand. I know everyone's order." When she reached his side, Harry's lungs filled with an ambrosial flowery scent. It was the most intoxicating thing he'd ever smelled, and he had to forcefully remind himself it wasn't acceptable to lean in a just put his nose in her hair. "Oh, I'm sure that's the only reason you’re going with him, eh Weasley?" Bellion laughed loudly. Weasley didn't even look over her shoulder as she provided a rude gesture, which sent her teammates into a new wave of cackles. "Feel free to ignore them," Weasley said as she slid past a free table. "Merlin knows I do." When she glanced over her shoulder, Harry lost his breath at her dazzling smile. "Also, seeing as you’re buying me a pint, feel free to call me Ginny." They reached the bar and Ginny easily attracted the barkeep’s attention. She ordered a plethora of different cocktails. As the bartender walked away, Ginny leaned against the bar, her chin resting on her hand as she turned to look at him. “So, Harry, what brings you here tonight? Because we come here rather often, and I’ve never seen you before.” “I’m -- uh -- here with some workmates.” Harry was impressed with his ability to form a complete sentence, with her alluring eyes focused solely on him. “We just finished a case and wanted to relax for a bit.” “A case?” Ginny’s eyebrows shot up. “What sort of case?” “We caught a dealer who was selling a bunch of knock off Felix Felicis. Instead of giving the drinker luck, it was causing them to grow welts the size of galleons all over their bodies.” “Really?” Her smile grew. “Well now, shouldn’t I be buying you a drink for you honorable service?” Harry leaned on the smooth wood surface, hoping to look suave as he copied her pose. “I wouldn’t say no.” Ginny laughed, sounding like a million perfectly timed chimes. “Well, how about we make this into a little challenge?” Harry had no idea where she was going with this, but he couldn’t care less if it meant getting to spend more time with her. “How so?” “Well, if I guess what’s your go-to drink, I'll take you out for dinner tomorrow night.” “A -- and if you get it wrong?” Harry cursed himself for stuttering, but there was nothing for it. His tongue felt too large for his mouth. When her smirk became flirtatious his heart fluttered like the wings of a free snitch. "I'll let you take me out for dinner." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX " This is a nice choice, Harry," Ginny complimented as she looked around the simple restaurant. The walls were decorated with famous London landmarks, with Big Ben and Buckingham Palace being the most prominent. Ginny was still in a state of euphoric surprise. When she had agreed to go to the pub after practice, she assumed she'd go for an hour, two tops, and then go home and curl up with her most recent novel. But instead, she'd never wanted to leave, at least once she and Harry had branched off. After getting her teammates’ drinks, they'd gone back up to the bar. While using the excuse to figure out his preferred drink, Ginny had studied his attractive profile. The man was fit. Tall, dark, and handsome. He was everything girls would fawn over, yet there was this awkwardness about him that would make some women stay away. But to her, it just made him that much more endearing. Guessing his drink wasn’t too hard, seeing as she could smell the whiskey on his breath. After ordering him a finger of Odgen’s and a spiced mead for herself, they had migrated towards an empty table. Normally Ginny had no luck with men she fancied. Generally, she’d scare them off by being too intimidating. After her last boyfriend, overbearing misogynistic prick that he was, Ginny had sworn off men. She told herself that quidditch was her one true love. That had been three years ago. But there had been something about Harry that made Ginny betray her own personal philosophy, and that something only became clearer the longer she spent in his company. He didn't leer at her breasts or just make obvious attempts to convince her to come home with him. Rather, he kept eye contact and listened to her stories, never interrupting but sliding in all the right comments. By the end of the night, Ginny was half tempted to invite him back to hers, but that had never been her style. Instead, they had parted by the pub entrance, agreeing to meet at Trafalgar Square by the fountain at five the next day. Ginny's stomach had been filled with excited butterflies all throughout their midday practice. And when she'd gone home to change, Ginny hated to admit it, but she'd looked through her entire wardrobe to find the perfect outfit. Never in her life had Ginny cared about finding the perfect outfit! And then, in the end, she had decided to just go in a nice t-shirt and denims (that hugged her curves in all the right places). It was something she felt comfortable in. And it seemed Harry liked it too because when she had approached him at the fountain his eyes had been the size of dinner plates. After strolling across muggle London for a bit, Harry had led them into what he claimed was the best place to get shepherd’s pie in the whole city. Harry grinned at her. “I tend to make good choices. I mean, I did choose to take you out to dinner.” Ginny put on her best appalled look. “I thought dinner was my idea.” The crooked grin Harry gave her made Ginny grateful she was sitting, because her knees would have buckled if she were standing. “Just because you were the first to suggest it doesn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about it.” The butterflies fluttered faster in her gut. She gave him a sweet smile. "Second place really isn't that impressive when there are only two people, luv." Harry’s cheeks darkened with a faint blush as he broke their gaze. He cleared his throat. “Uh -- so the fish and chips here are -- uh almost as good as the shepherd’s pie.” It only took Ginny a second to figure out what had made Harry lose his ability to maintain eye contact. She could feel the mischievous curl of her own lips. “Can you think of an instance where coming in second would be better, Harry?” Ginny could see his flush darken. “I -- uh --” He took a deep breath, his lips curving into a coy smile. “I’d much rather tie. There is something about coming together that’s more satisfying.” “Well --” Ginny was not used to being outplayed, but fuck! Harry had just played a royal flush. Speaking of flush, she was sure now her cheeks were red. With that being said, there was no way Ginny was going down without a fight. She leaned forward, her hand running up his arm, goose flesh leaving a trail to where she’d been. “That’s quite a claim there, Harry. Care to give an example?” Harry’s mouth fell open. “I -- I” Ginny was rather proud of herself, but Harry was saved from finding his tongue by the arrival of a cheery waiter. “Welcome to Redan House. My name is Louis. Can I start you with something from the bar?” Ginny took a quick glance at the menu. “I would love a glass of red wine.” She looked back at her date, who had lowered the menu when the waiter arrived. “Harry?” His cheeks were still tinged pink, but his voice gave nothing away. “Whiskey and a glass of water, thank you.” “Coming right up.” Ginny beamed at Harry once the waiter had walked away. “So, how was your day? Did you deal with all that paperwork you were worried about last night?” Harry nodded, his relief at the change of topic practically tangible, making Ginny giggle internally. "Yeah, nothing too interesting I'm afraid. What about you? I'm sure a Harpies practice is much more intense." Ginny couldn't get over how easy it was to talk with Harry. In terms of dating, a first date was often like regrowing bones: painful but necessary. But there was none of that “So lovely weather today” or “The apparition point was crazy busy, wasn’t it?” And maybe it was because they had already talked for hours the previous night, but Ginny didn’t think so. No, it was just them. For some reason, she and Harry just flowed. It wasn’t until they had already received their ordered meals that they started to tread into rocky waters. Past relationships, or in Ginny’s case, failed dates. “And you could say that was the only perk of dating a musician.” Harry took a sip from his whiskey glass. “The downside was being written into her song.” He rolled his eyes. “She definitely exaggerated a bit. But I’m sure you’ve got your own horror stories.” “You could say that.” Ginny stabbed into a chip with more vicious intention than she planned. “Blokes tend to --” She paused, trying to come up with the right way to word it. “They tend to try and just make me a notch on their bedpost.” Harry frowned. “What do you mean?” “A lot of guys tend to -- er act like gentlemen, and then expect me to respond to their advances after a drink or two.” She rolled her eyes. “So there was this one guy who thought that I would go sneak off into the men's loo at a pub after he paid for my drink. And another who thought I would respond well to him running his hand up my thigh while we sat on a bench eating ice cream.” “Th --” Harry looked dumbfounded. “Really? How can they treat you like that? I mean -” A slight blush appeared on his cheeks but his eyes stayed locked on hers. “You’re incredible in every way.” Warmth spread through Ginny’s body, starting in her belly and coursing to her limbs. She smiled at Harry, reaching across the table and placed her hand over his. “Thank you, Harry.” He turned his hand over and threaded their fingers. The intensity of his green eyes made her breath hitch. “It’s the truth. Besides it’s just common human decency.” Ginny squeezed his hand, hoping he understood how much his words truly meant to her. It took a few moments for them to break their standstill. She noticed Harry glancing down at her lips more than once, but rather than acting on aspiration he just smiled. “So what do you do to these unfortunately misguided blokes?” “Oh.” She tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her gut. “They discover why they call me the Ball-Buster.” “You do have quite a bad reputation.” Harry laughed lightly. “And yet, you dared to come up to me.” His smile grew wider, a small dimple forming at up at the left-hand corner of his lips. “And yet, I gladly risked my balls to come up and talk with you.” He brought their still linked hands up to his mouth and kissed the back of her hand. “And I’d do it again.” Was this what people would call swooning? Ginny’s breath left her lungs in a shaky breath. She was saved from trying and coming up with a suave response by Louis coming over and checking on them. “So.” Harry placed her hand back on the table so he could grab his knife and fork again. “If you’re the ball buster, what’s your family like?” XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Gin ny leaned back against the door, her heart firmly resting in her gut. She had thought there had been something there. There was no way she’d imagined it all, was there? When Harry had walked her up from the apparition point near her flat in Wales to the front door, she’d thought they would have their moment. All night had there had been this… heat between them, and every time Harry’s fingers had brushed hers it had sent jolts of electricity across her body. But then at the door… he had just wished her a good night and walked away, his head down and hands in pockets. Ginny had sworn he was going to kiss her when they had stood there. The way his eyes kept falling down to her lips as they discussed how funny their waiter had been. She had been certain when his hand had come up to brush a piece of hair away from her face… and then he hadn’t. He had just left, not giving her enough time to make the move herself. “Fuck.” Ginny moaned the word out for the empty house to hear. Maybe she had created the whole thing in her head, wishful thinking or something like that. Yet... There was nothing for it now, Ginny told herself. He hadn’t even left her a way to contact him. And sure she could send him an owl, but that felt too desperate… He didn’t say he wanted to exchange letters or floo locations. Fuck! She needed to stop thinking about this -- about him -- for a while. She moved into the sitting room, which was just how she left it: A blanket precariously tossed over the back of the couch. Her current novel sitting on the side table beside a half-drunk mug of tea. Making a quick decision, Ginny gathered her book and moved into the loo. A warm bath was just what she needed. It would soothe her sore muscles from practice and a sore ego. Waving her wand at the basic white tub, water started pouring from the tap.. She put her novel beside the bath before gathering her favorite bath salts. The knock at her door was more like the slamming of a battering ram. Ginny dropped her bath bomb on the floor in surprise. With a swift motion, she grabbed her wand from the sink, flicked it quickly at the tub to pause the water, andy walked to the door. The knocking had decreased but was still insistently echoing across the house. She flung the door open to be greeted by a fist. Harry’s fist. His hair was more disheveled than ever and his eyes had a frantic glint to them. “Harry?” Ginny opened the door a little wider. “What are you doing?” Harry lowered his fist, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I -- I” He ran his hands through his hair, somehow making it worse. “I can’t not --” “Can’t not wh --” Ginny started to ask until Harry cut her off. His hands had come up to cup her jaw on either side as he pressed his lips to hers. It took a moment for Ginny to get over her shock. It wasn’t until Harry started to pull back that Ginny responded. Not wanting for them to lose any of this intimacy, Ginny threaded her fingers in his messy locks, using them to pull him closer. Harry groaned into her mouth, his fingers tracing down her neck, to her shoulders, before drifting down her sides. Ginny loved the feeling of his thumbs digging into her hip. She backed into the flat, never breaking contact. Harry followed, closing the front door behind him with his foot. Ginny led them towards the couch. It wasn’t until Harry tripped over a carelessly discarded shoe that they separated. They stood in the middle of her sitting room, both breathing heavily. The oxygen flooding her brain made coherent thought come back, which included many questions. Through inhales, she asked, "What was that about?” Harry took a step back, a hand coming to rub the back of his neck. “Sorry, I didn’t plan on doing it quite like that.” “You didn’t plan on snogging the life out of me?” Ginny leaned back, pressing her bum into the back of the sofa for support. “What did you plan on doing?” “Coming and telling you how much I like you.” His cheeks matched the color of her hair. “Well, you certainly showed me.” Harry gave her a shy smile. “Yeah, I just couldn’t resist… once I saw you --” His cheeks darkened. The butterflies from earlier returned in full force. So it hadn’t all just been in her mind. Thank fucking Merlin for that. “So why didn’t you do that at the door?” “I didn’t -- I” Harry closed his eyes for a second, his chest rising with a deep inhale. With his eyes still shut he said, “I didn’t want you to think I was that kind of bloke.” That kind of bloke? Ginny cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?” Harry sighed, his head tilting down towards the floor. “You told me that a lot of guys just want to get you into bed.” She nodded, the puzzle pieces falling into place. “And you were worried I would think you were doing the same if you made a move?” “Yeah.” The word came out more like a depressed whisper than anything else. Ginny felt as if she were riding a broom for the first time again. The elation, thrill, and just instantaneous love for something spread throughout her. “Harry, look at me.” It took a second, but Harry lifted his head. His eyes meet hers in a look of pure despondency. He looked as if he was ready for her to throw him out on his arse. She took a step forward, placing herself up close in his personal bubble. Her arms went up around his neck, fingers twisting into his already rumpled hair. “The simple fact that you thought that makes you twenty times better than any of those other blokes. I knew you weren’t like any of them.” Harry’s mouth slowly spread into a smile. His hands coming to rest on her hips “Yeah?” “Oh, yeah.” Ginny brought her nose so it bumped against his, making their lips tantalizingly close. “Also, if you hadn’t run away so fast, I was about to make a move on you.” His smile broadened. “Yeah?” “Yeah.” Ginny’s tone became lower than normal. “Care to see what I was planning to do?” A mischievous spark glinted in his eyes. “Should I be worried? You do have quite a bad reputation.” Ginny kissed him, nipping at his bottom lip with her teeth. “I wouldn’t use the word bad in this situation.” “Oh?” Harry let the word out in a breathy sigh “Oh yes. I’d say the more appropriate word is naughty.” Harry’s fingers tightened on her hips. “That doesn’t sound bad to me at all.” “I hoped you’d say that.” |
| Reviews 5 |
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