Enough people asked for a sequel, so here you are. It only took 6 months (groan) for me to write one. I’m planning on writing 2 more sequels, so I guess this has become a series. If you haven’t read my fic Willpower, please do so, or you won’t know what all the staring is about. I hope this doesn’t disappoint. It’s a very different story from its predecessor. Enjoy!
This is a HBP missing moment that takes place exactly two weeks after The Kiss.
|
Willpower 2: Building Intimacy | ||||
|
Category: Post-HBP Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Fluff, Humor, Romance Warnings: Sexual Situations Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 46 Summary: In which Harry learns some truths about Ginny and about being in a relationship, and Ginny realizes just how deeply she feels for Harry. HBP missing moment. Hitcount: Story Total: 13910 Awards: View Trophy Room 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: |
|
|||
|
Ginny was getting restless — again. Revising for her O.W.L.s was tiresome, tedious, trifling, torturous, terrible. She wondered how many alliterative adjectives she could come up with and giggled, causing the other fifth-years sharing the table to look over at her. She shrugged, turned back to her Herbology text, and sighed. Like I don’t have better things to be doing. Where is he, anyway? Stupid Snape. Harry was still serving Saturday detentions with Professor Snape. Ginny had hoped that Harry would be back in time for them to spend some of the afternoon together, but it was almost time for dinner. At least she had covered a large amount of material that day. Whenever Harry was otherwise occupied, she was extra diligent because she knew he would distract her far too much as to be good for her studies. Even during his detention-free hours, he insisted that she attend her revision groups and was supportive as a good boyfriend should be, but the temptation for them to skive off was much too great. Their brand new relationship was exciting and held a much more powerful allure than examining the prudent (i.e. non-lethal) re-potting techniques for the Venomous Tentacula. Potting. Potter. Harry. Ginny sighed, knowing with that digression that further attempts to revise were futile. A break for dinner would help her refocus. At that moment, Ginny heard the portrait hole swing open, and Harry entered the room. His eyes were already scanning the room before he had even straightened from climbing through the hole. It took only a moment before his eyes locked on hers, and they both beamed. He began to walk toward her, but she shook her head slightly. He stopped in his tracks, arching his eyebrow. I love it when he does that. She inclined her head towards her fellow fifth-years and mouthed, “One minute,” before giving him a smile that clearly indicated that she would then be all his. She watched as he sprawled out casually in a cushy armchair about ten feet away from her, his long, denim-clad legs stretched in front of him while one arm rested on the back of the chair. He looked relaxed and confident as he openly stared at her, his brilliant eyes boring into hers. By Circe, he’s gorgeous, and he’s all mine. She knew he loved this game. She gazed back, gathering and stacking her books by feel. “I hate to break this up, but it’s time for me to go.” The other Gryffindor fifth-years turned to look at Ginny. “But we haven’t discussed the Tentacula yet,” protested a surprised Colin Creevey, whose head snapped up and turned towards Ginny. She was staring right past him, and she could hear the smirk in his voice when he said, “Harry must be back.” In her peripheral vision, she could see Colin crane his neck around to follow her gaze. Her other classmates sniggered as neither Harry nor Ginny shifted their gaze. “Come on, Ginny. What’s with the staring contests? You two must have one daily.” “Not every day. Let’s just say we enjoy the challenge,” Ginny replied evasively. “Challenge? Really?” Colin sounded both interested and amused, not that Ginny could tell from his facial expression since her eyes were locked on Harry’s. “And — er — what kind of challenge would that be?” “Like I’d tell you lot.” Ginny had managed to corral her belongings into her bag, carry on a conversation, and let Harry know that she was game for whatever he wanted all at the same time. “See you later.” As she approached Harry, she was vaguely aware of her friends whispering behind her, and then the entire table suddenly chorused, “I love you, Harry!” in a high-pitched, sing-songy voice before making obnoxious kissing noises. That did it. Her concentration was shattered, and she turned around and glared at her so-called friends. “Shut it, you traitorous miscreants!” The fifth-years positively howled with laughter at Ginny’s aggravation. She was not at all embarrassed but was quite annoyed that they had distracted her so efficiently. She turned back to Harry, who had a smug grin plastered on his face. “I won,” he announced in a highly self-satisfied voice. Ginny rolled her eyes to hide what his smile was doing to her insides. “This time,” she countered. “You know I win every time unless you cheat.” Ginny feigned indignation. “Cheat? How do I cheat?” “Touching is not allowed,” he said simply. It was Ginny’s turn to look smug. “Says who? When did we make any rules?” “Look, you started this little game, so I think I can make some rules. Of course touching is not allowed. It’s blatantly unfair. Weakens my resolve.” He winked at her before grabbing her hand. He began to drag his fingertips across her palm. Speaking of weakening resolve, he has to stop doing that. “Isn’t that the point? To weaken your resolve? Or would you rather win every time?” Ginny asked innocently. “Good point.” He smiled down at her. “Hi,” he said as he slowly tugged her to him and wrapped her into a warm embrace. “Hi.” Her reply was muffled by Harry’s chest. Ginny’s contented sigh ended abruptly when a cacophony of cooing and “Awwwwww”s rang out from behind her. Irritated by this intrusion, Ginny spun them both around so that Harry now faced away from the fifth-years, allowing her to make a rude hand gesture behind his back. More hooting emanated from the table. Harry chuckled and squeezed her tighter, which made Ginny smile. Harry, who was not exactly shy but far from gregarious, had certainly never sought attention. The fact that he was not embarrassed and was so candid with his affection for her was very surprising. His openness spoke volumes to her about the depth of his feelings. Of course, he had already revealed his partiality in front of the entire house when he kissed her the first time, but since then, he had kept their more intimate moments private. Public hugs and snuggling, however, were fair game. Harry looked down at her. “Why do I have the feeling that whatever you just did with your hand is not something that your mum would deem particularly ladylike?” Ginny loved it that he already knew her so well, but she professed innocence anyway. “I don’t know what you mean. I am a dainty flower.” Harry guffawed along with her eavesdropping classmates. “Don’t encourage them,” Ginny gave him a playful swat on his back. “Why not? I’m willing to endure a bit of ribbing if it means I have exclusive rights to hold you like this. I’m glad they approve,” Harry said quietly so that only she could hear him. “What does it matter if they approve or not? You’re worried about my family. You’re worried about my friends. You should be worried about what I think,” Ginny teased. Harry pulled back so he could look into her eyes. “It matters because they matter to you. Would it stop me from being with you if no one approved? No. But it’s nice to know I have their blessing.” Harry said this with so much sincerity that Ginny was taken by surprise. Suddenly, there were too many eyes in the common room. “Come on, Dearest. Let’s get out of here,” she said softly. Ginny led Harry out of the portrait hole by his hand. As soon as they rounded the corner and were out of sight of the Fat Lady, Ginny stopped and pulled him to her in a soft, lingering kiss. He seemed to sense her mood and responded in kind. He kissed her not with fervour or abandon, but gently, sweetly, and quite thoroughly. It was still enough to make her blood burn. After a long minute, they broke apart. Smiling, Harry reclaimed her hand, and they began to walk down the hall. “I suppose I gave you the right answer.” He gently kissed her knuckles. “Yeah, you did, but it was also the way you said it. I just needed to kiss you, and I think we’ve had enough common room kisses for people to gossip about. I don’t exactly want to be like Ron and Lav-Lav.” Ginny hoped that Harry had missed the slight bitterness that had crept into her voice when she mentioned her brother’s embarrassing liaison with the empty-headed sixth-year. Harry snorted. “You know, I thought of the same nickname for her and haven’t been able to rid myself of it since.” Harry looked sidewise at her. “That seems to be a bit of a sore point for you. Ron’s public dalliances with—” Harry shuddered obviously, “—Lav-Lav.” Ginny laughed nervously. Still holding his right hand in her left, she wrapped her right hand around his bicep and leaned her head on his arm. “Well, I guess it is a bit. He was such a wanker about the whole thing. What bothered me most is that he didn’t seem to care that he had hurt Hermione. It was as if he had to prove something, and it didn’t matter that he crushed the girl he presumably cares for most in the world in order to do it.” Ginny sighed. “Hermione was so excited about their date for Slughorn’s party,” she reflected. “I doubt she would’ve told you about that, but she was. Harry, I’ve never seen her light up like that, not even when she’s mastered a complicated spell, and then Ron acted like a total berk. I wasn’t trying to throw Viktor in his face. I assumed you both knew. I know I shouldn’t have teased him about never having kissed a girl. That was wrong, but I was upset — embarrassed and angry at first — and then hurt that he would ever imply such a nasty thing about me.” Even many months later, Ginny still felt her own guilt that Hermione had ultimately suffered for her anger, and a dead weight settled in her stomach. Harry, his eyes downcast, scowled. They walked in a silence that was growing thicker by the minute, and Ginny’s confusion grew. Why is he upset? Did I just offend him? Is he angry at Ron now? As they descended the marble staircase, Harry’s steps slowed until he stopped near the bottom. His left hand absentmindedly rubbed the polished wood banister, smudging it with his fingerprints and dulling the shiny wood. He looked towards the open double doors to the Great Hall, where a few students were sitting down to dinner. “Harry? Is there something wrong?” Ginny was truly perplexed. Harry’s intense glare softened as he looked down at her. “Sorry, but I don’t want to go in there. Can we go somewhere else? I want to be alone and talk for a bit.” “Sure, if that’s what you want. We’ll have to keep a watch on the time, so we don’t miss dinner.” “No.” Harry shook his head. “No time constraints. We can go by the kitchen and grab some food if we miss dinner. Dobby will take care of us.” Harry gently pulled Ginny down the last two steps and to the corridor on the right. He opened the door to classroom eleven and gestured to her to proceed inside. Startled by the sight before her, Ginny gasped. “Haven’t been in here since Firenze started teaching?” Harry chuckled. Ginny, who did not take Divination, shook her head as she gazed in awe at the beautiful forest clearing with warm sunlight playing through the leaves overhead. “Harry, this is gorgeous. I’d heard Dumbledore made this classroom look like the forest, but I had no idea it —” Ginny broke off abruptly and laughed as she caught sight of the incongruous wastepaper basket next to a tree stump. “Seems a bit out of place. Firenze won’t mind us using it?” Harry shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. He certainly views life a bit differently than the other professors, and I don’t think it would occur to him that we maybe should not be in here by ourselves.” Ginny smiled softly at his insinuation, and Harry continued. “Plus, Hagrid told me that he spends most of his late afternoons and almost all weekend out on the grounds. Firenze told him that the room simulates his home but that he can feel the difference, so he wants to be outdoors as much as possible.” He shrugged. “The worst that will happen is that he returns and asks us to leave. Something like detention is too trivial and meaningless.” Harry’s voice trailed off as he mumbled, “Human nonsense.” He squeezed her hand before letting it go and walking over to a tree with relatively low-lying branches. “Okay,” Ginny muttered while watching him. She had no experience with centaurs and trusted that his remarks would make more sense to her if she had. Harry jumped up to grab a limb, pulled himself up, and slowly lowered himself down until his arms were straight. The hem of his crimson t-shirt was riding up to expose a fair expanse of toned stomach, the dappled light playing across his skin. Now that’s really playing dirty. Ginny watched his biceps and abdominal muscles contract and quiver as he repeated the exercise slowly several times. Shaking herself from her reverie, she dryly asked, “Am I supposed to be impressed?” Harry grimaced and dropped down, examining his palms. “Such cheek. No, I just have a bit of nervous energy to burn off. Confinement with Snape will do that.” “Come here, Harry,” Ginny held out her hands and grabbed one of his as he approached. His palms were red and dimpled from where the rough tree bark had dug cruelly into his skin. She massaged his abused skin for a moment before kissing it and repeating the process with his other hand. “Better?” she asked, gazing coyly through her lashes at him. “Much,” he responded, as she continued to kiss his palm. She could feel goose bumps erupt on his arm. As he drew his arm away, he let his thumb caress her cheek and then brush down her face and neck. Ginny was subjected to her own goose bumps. Damn, he’s good. She was weak-kneed before he pulled her to him, but instead of the intense kiss she anticipated and wanted, he drew her close and held her, swaying slightly. Ginny felt herself being lulled and was in no hurry to break the mood, but she knew that something was bothering Harry. He was reluctant to talk and seemed to be gearing up for it. “Confinement with Snape? Is that all you’re wound up about? Dearest, what’s wrong?” Harry sighed, kissed the top of her head, and pulled back so he could look at her. “Would you give me your wand?” Ginny was taken aback by this request. “My wand?” Ginny became slightly suspicious and narrowed her eyes. “What on earth for?” “Because I want to talk to you about something, and I honestly don’t know how you’ll react. I don’t want be cursed.” Ginny pulled away from him completely. “What could you possibly say to me that would make me angry enough to curse you? Have you ever seen me do anything remotely like that?” Ginny thought of Malfoy and Smith. “Well, to someone I care about?” She thought of Fred and George. “Besides my brothers,” she amended with a grin. She had included all of her brothers just to be judicious. Harry smiled softly and leaned against a tree. “No, of course not. I think I’m the more hot-headed of the two of us, but you are dead clever with a wand. Plus, I saw Hermione attack Ron when he got off with Lav-Lav. I never thought I’d see Hermione hex someone out of anger, especially a friend.” Ginny felt a pang in her stomach again as she thought about her friend’s pain. “She was very hurt.” “I know. I don’t want to hurt you that way.” “Are you planning on snogging anyone else?” “Never.” Harry’s response was so emphatic that it made her breath catch. Considering that they had only been dating a fortnight, Ginny knew that what she felt for Harry was a lot deeper than it should probably be. Having Harry finally reciprocate the feelings she had harboured for him for so long only intensified her emotions. She knew that he truly felt affection for her. She had never seen him this happy and was certain that their relationship was responsible for it. She was careful, however, not to read too much into his words and gestures because she worried that, as much as he liked her, she was much more emotionally invested than he was. Still, when he made statements of that sort, indirectly indicating that she was it for him, she could not suppress her hope that he cared for her as deeply as she did for him. “Well, that takes care of me attacking you in the immediate future,” she chided. Harry continued to look anxious as he ran his hand through his dark locks. Ginny resisted the lure of newly-tousled hair and sat down, settling against her own tree a few feet away, the rough bark scratching her skin. I feel a ‘relationship talk’ coming. “Harry, the fact that you’re concerned about upsetting me but still want to be honest with me anyway means a lot, and it should make whatever you have to say easier to hear. I don’t want you to not say things to me because you think you might hurt my feelings. That’s not a good way to start a relationship.” Harry threw his hands up in the air. “I know, and that’s part of the problem. I have no clue what I’m doing.” Harry stared at his foot as he restlessly scuffed his trainer on the base of the tree trunk. “I don’t know how to be a good boyfriend, but things feel so perfect between us anyway.” He looked at her intently. “It’s not difficult or frustrating to try to work out what’s going on in your head, and I thought it was supposed to be. Somehow I’m not worried that you’re going to fly off the handle at me for the slightest misstep.” “Except now,” Her wry reply hid the amusement she felt. Ginny found his agitation unspeakably endearing. “No, that’s the point.” His hands again raked through his hair. “I’ve heard blokes complain about how they’ll never understand girls.” Harry frowned faintly. “I’ve certainly thought that myself. Other blokes have got in trouble with their girlfriends when they don’t even know that they’ve done something wrong. Their girlfriends, instead of explaining the problem, get huffy because the poor sods can’t figure it out.” He rolled his eyes. “It seems mad to me — all this pointless drama.” Ginny could not help but grin at him. “I can give you drama if you’d like.” “I’m serious,” he said solemnly, his bright eyes flitting to hers before staring into the jumble of branches overhead. Harry let out a long breath. “With you, I don’t feel that way at all.” He reached up, plucked a leaf from a limb, and slowly twirled it in his fingers. He appeared hypnotised by the movement. Ginny, meanwhile, was transfixed by his heartfelt disquiet. Harry resumed speaking in a hushed voice. “On the one hand, I don’t want to muck things up by talking about things I shouldn’t, or by saying things that make you angry or hurt you in any way. I want to isolate us from the world and not let anything bad touch us, including my big mouth. On the other hand, things are just so easy between us.” Ginny’s heart clenched as she met his imploring gaze. “We understand each other, don’t we? I feel that when I do muck things up, you’ll let me know in no uncertain terms so that we can deal with it and move on.” “I would hope so. I don’t expect you to be a mind reader, Harry. It’s important for us to be honest and open with each other.” She hesitated, plucking at the moss-covered ground before bringing up an unpleasant and previously unmentioned subject. “And I think we understand each other in a way that is unique to us.” Harry stared at her for a moment before saying, “Riddle.” Ginny nodded, and then Harry continued. “I’ve thought about that, too. No one’s ever understood me like you do.” Ginny’s insides became glacial as he inadvertently echoed words she had once written in Riddle’s diary. She struggled to keep it out of her voice. She knew it was a preposterous notion, but she had to ask him before she lost her nerve. “Harry, you don’t just fancy me because of our shared connection to Tom, do you?” Ginny’s insides melted when she saw the horror on Harry’s face. “What? Oh, no, Ginny. That’s not what I meant at all.” He pushed away from his tree and moved quickly to kneel at her side. “I fancy you for loads of reasons, and none of them has anything to do with Riddle. It’s just reassuring somehow that you understand that about me. You’ve fought your own battle with him and survived. Few people can claim that. Others have lost loved ones like I have, but the way he’s touched both of us is. . .” Harry paused and grimaced, “. . . special.” Ginny did not want to dwell on her experiences, much less try to fathom what it must be like for Harry. She gave him an encouraging smile to lighten the mood. “I think we would both gladly give up being so special.” He smiled sadly, watching their hands as they entwined their fingers. “That’s a bit of an understatement.” He sighed and looked into her eyes. “The last thing I want to talk about right now is Riddle. I want to talk about us.” “A much more agreeable subject.” Ginny smiled at him, hoping to put him at ease. “I believe you were expressing some confusion about the fact that we don’t fight or play silly games.” “I guess I was wondering if it was all in my head — that we’re really so well-suited.” Harry’s free hand reached out to gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and Ginny revelled in the familiarity of the gesture. “This is how it’s supposed to be between two people, isn’t it? Not all the unpleasantness. The last thing I want to do is bollix it up by saying the wrong thing and causing a row. I can’t be like Ron and Hermione, bickering all the time.” “I think one good snog would end all the bickering, don’t you?” she smirked. “Here’s to hoping,” he said, giving her a half-hearted smile. “So, if I upset you, you’re not going to ditch me?” “No, Harry, I’m not going to split up with you for something minor or silly.” Ginny wrapped her free hand around their joined ones, rubbing the back of Harry’s hand in an effort to reassure him. “I can’t promise not to get upset with you at all, but, thanks to growing up with my brothers, I have a very thick skin. I will always listen to what you have to say and, if there’s a problem, we’ll try to work it out. That’s what a relationship is about. Trust. I have to trust you and you me. If we do, then so many problems are easy to negotiate. It’s part of building intimacy.” Harry grinned. “Intimacy, eh? When can we get around to building some of that?” Ginny ignored her desire to do just that. “Now who’s being cheeky? And not until you tell me what has you thinking I might hex you.” Harry swung his legs around to sit flat on the ground and brought his knees close to his chest. He placed their clasped hands on his right leg and ran his thumb along her wrist. After a long pause, he took a deep breath. “Well, you were just talking about Ron and the nasty things he implied about you when we found you with Dean.” Ginny froze. Surely, surely, Harry doesn’t think I’m a slag. Is he interested because he thinks I’m easy? It was difficult to keep her voice even. “Go on, Harry.” “Well, I feel horrible about it now, but, at the time, I was — er — sort of glad he was saying them.” Ginny was too confused to be offended, but she felt a twinge of indignation. Harry looked panicked, apparently reading something unpleasant on her face. “Not that I ever thought that about you,” he quickly blurted out. “And not because I thought he was right — of course he wasn’t. He should never have said what he did, but the idea of you being with Dean — touching Dean, kissing Dean —” Ginny watched his face harden as he clenched his jaw. “It drove me mad. I wanted to hurt him. Really hurt him. That image is burned into my brain. I know that we’re together now, so it shouldn’t still bother me, but —” Relief washed over Ginny, and she interrupted his outburst by placing a finger to his lips, which silenced him immediately. “You were jealous. All of this anxiety is over you being jealous?” He kissed her fingertip, and she removed it from his mouth. “Partly. I’m more concerned with the fact that I was happy Ron said something so nasty to you.” Harry truly looked ashamed. “I still don’t understand why you approved of his words if you fancied me,” “It was completely irrational. I thought that perhaps if he said those things, then you wouldn’t kiss Dean any more.” Ginny giggled. Harry groaned and dropped his head onto his knees. “This is so embarrassing. I know. I know. As if you’d listen to Ron about your love life, but I was desperate and confused. I know it was stupid, but I was most definitely jealous. It’s hardly attractive, is it? It’s a petty emotion.” Ginny tried to soothe him by running her fingers through his hair. “Well, sometimes, but it’s not something you should feel ashamed of. If you’d had a go at Dean because you were jealous, then you’d be right to feel guilty. Being upset because the person you fancied is with someone else is a pretty normal reaction. I’d be a hypocrite if I judged you harshly about that.” Thinking of her own years of jealousy, she flinched inwardly, and her voice became cool. "Don’t get me started on how fond I am of Miss Chang. She’s been the recipient of plenty of my uncharitable thoughts, and I never even had the pleasure of seeing you kiss. Hearing it had happened was bad enough.” Harry, his head still on his knees, swivelled his head sideways to look up at her. Ginny was amused to see that he appeared honestly surprised to hear that she had been jealous of Cho. Oh, Harry. You sweet, daft boy. You have no idea. She placed her right cheek on her knees, mimicking Harry’s pose so that they were at eyelevel, and she continued to play with his hair. She smiled at him. “Of course it hurts. How you handle yourself in those situations says a lot about you as a person. You didn’t interfere and waited for the relationship to run its course. That was downright noble of you, Harry.” He rolled his eyes and muttered something barely intelligible cursing his nobility. Ginny laughed and slid her arm down his spine, her hands creeping below that teasing hem so that she could feel the skin of his back. He felt warm and firm, and she wanted to feel more of it. She loved his back. “Mmmmm. That feels good,” he exhaled and closed his eyes. “You’re not making it easy for me to continue my confession.” Ginny’s hand stopped for a moment. “There’s more?” “Well, one more tiny thing. I was partially responsible for your break-up with Dean.” He cracked open one eye to peer at her. Too right, you were. I was tired of settling. Knowing he must be referring to a separate issue, Ginny eloquently asked, “Huh?” “Well, the night you broke up, you argued about him helping you through the portrait hole. That wasn’t him. I was sneaking out in my Invisibility Cloak and accidentally bumped you. You thought it was Dean, and I certainly wasn’t going to correct you.” Harry looked sheepish. Ginny’s mind was blank for a moment until the humour of the situation caught up with her. She sat up and laughed long and hard, letting out a most undignified snort in the process, which made her laugh harder. Harry could not help but chuckle with her. Finally, gasping for breath, she choked out, “Oh, Harry. I appreciate you telling me that, but I intended to break up with him anyway. That bump just gave me an excuse. I think it’s funny that it was you. Dean had every right to be annoyed if I was accusing him of something he didn’t do.” She eyed Harry mischievously. “Maybe I should apologize. Do you think he’d take me back?” Harry harrumphed. She poked him in the side. He squirmed and writhed to avoid being tickled, and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. Still giggling, she gave him a soft, teasing kiss and snuggled close to him. He wrapped his arms around her and shifted them both so that he was leaning against the tree and she was nestled against him, her legs thrown across his lap. Her left hand snaked its way under his shirt, and she resumed tracing his lower back. Harry’s fingers tickled the nape of her neck and the exposed top of her shoulders. Oh, he must keep doing that. Truly content, she closed her eyes, listening to an unseen bird chirping in the distance. “Ginny?” “Hmmm?” "Tha nk you for not being angry and for understanding." “There was nothing for me to be angry about, Dearest.” Ginny let her free hand settle on his chest, and she began to run her fingertips over the soft cotton of his shirt. “People get angry when they stop talking and listening to each other. My dad always says that anger is easy and that you have to hear people out before you jump to conclusions because anger rarely solves anything. How many times have you seen me angry? Not just really annoyed, but truly angry?” Harry seemed to mull this over. “Well, you weren’t too pleased with me when I thought I was being possessed and acted like a total tosser or when I didn’t want you to come to the Ministry with me, but I’d say both of those times you were very annoyed.” “In the forest, especially, yes.” Ginny frowned at the memory. “You’re right, though. I wasn’t properly angry.” “Once, then. At Ron.” “Exactly. And look what my anger got us. Lav-Lav.” Ginny shuddered obviously this time and smiled as Harry’s warm laughter seemed to seep into her skin. “Mum has a bit of a temper, so I think people assume I have one as well, especially since I’m a redhead.” She huffed. “It’s rather sexist, as no one expects it of my brothers. We’re all a pretty easy going lot — well, except for The Prat.” Harry chuckled. “If I become just a bit annoyed, people tend to back off because no one wants to see me do my nut, but I’m not my mum. Proper blow-ups are rare for me.” “Warn me when one is coming, so I can run for cover.” Harry squeezed her gently to let her know he was teasing. “Yes, I wouldn’t want you injured in any fallout.” She returned his hug. “When did you become so wise?” he mused. “Ah, my innate sagacity is my birthright,” Ginny responded playfully. “You sound like Hermione. I’m not even sure what that means, so I’ll take your word for it,” Harry teased. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she responded, laughing. “Let me rephrase that. Blame any wisdom you think I have on my growing up in a large family.” Thinking of the Dursley household and how much Harry had missed by not having loving parents and siblings, Ginny felt a pang of sorrow. Her family regarded him as one of their own, and she hoped that, in particular, the love heaped on him from her mum and the camaraderie of Ron and the twins had helped atone for the Dursley’s cruelty. “I’ve had plenty of time to learn about how people interact with each other and what works and what doesn’t. Trust me on this one, Harry. Like we already said, I think we understand each other very well. As long as we keep talking and listening to each other, we’ll be fine.” Ginny wanted Harry to believe those words as much as she did, so she tightened her arms around him. Harry returned her embrace. “All right, we’ll always talk. So,” Harry’s voice adopted a business-like tone, “here’s another question in the hopes of my understanding you and trying to be a good boyfriend. While we were discussing Dean, I realised that I’ve helped you through the portrait hole loads of times.” His hand trailed down her arm, and Ginny was grateful she was wearing a short-sleeved shirt. “You’d think I’d know better considering how you two split up, but I’ve just done it because it felt right. If it bothers you, you’ve never said a word to me.” “That’s because I don’t mind you doing it,” Ginny answered truthfully. “Why? What’s the difference?” Harry sounded curious. “Well, why do you help me through?” she prodded. Harry did not hesitate with his answer. “It’s the polite thing to do, like pulling out a chair or opening a car door for your date in the Muggle world. I want to do something nice for you.” Harry kissed the top of her head. “That’s just it, Harry. You want to do something nice for me, and I want to let you do nice things for me. It’s all about intent. You go through first and offer me your hand. If I need it, your hand is there to steady me, but it’s my decision whether or not I choose to accept it. Dean used to push me from behind as if I needed to be hoisted through like some sack of potatoes. While I suppose he was trying to be nice, too, the feeling behind it was completely different. He acted as if I were helpless.” Harry snorted. “You’re anything but helpless.” “Glad you noticed.” Ginny felt gratified. He was silent for a moment, but when Harry spoke again, there was a slight edge to his voice. “Too right the feeling behind it was different. That randy git used ‘helping you’ as an excuse to put his hands on you.” “Well, he was my boyfriend. I’m sure you’re right that he didn’t mind that aspect.” Ginny pulled out of his embrace and noted his creased forehead. She attempted to mollify him. “He never put his hands any place inappropriate, and it isn’t as if you don’t make excuses to touch me.” He opened his mouth to protest, but Ginny cut him off. “I’m not complaining. I like finding those excuses myself.” The corners of Harry’s mouth quirked upwards. “Dean will never have those privileges ever again. I won’t allow anyone else to touch me.” She caressed his cheek. “I don’t want anyone else to touch me.” He placed his hand on top of hers and pressed his cheek into her hand. “But I’m still permitted?” he clarified. “Absolutely,” she assured him. Harry smiled. “Now, do you feel better about things? No fear of random hexes from my fits of temper?” “Now that you’ve educated me properly, I feel brilliant.” He turned his head and kissed her palm. “Ginny, I hope you understand that I’m asking all of these questions because I want to be a good boyfriend to you. I want to make you happy.” She felt warm at his words. “Dearest, you are the best boyfriend I’ve had. The others can go rot. I couldn’t ask for anything more. You make me unbelievably happy.” He removed her hand from his face and brushed his lips across her knuckles. His face appeared completely relaxed, and his green eyes were soft as he looked at her. “Why do you call me ‘Dearest’?” Ginny smiled gently. “I call you a lot of things. Don’t you like it? I can stop if you’d like.” She hoped he did not mind. It would be a difficult habit to break, but she did not want to make him uncomfortable. “No, it’s just I’ve never had a nickname,” Harry mused, gazing through the trees. Ginny giggled. “Are you joking? ‘The Boy Who Lived’, ‘The Chosen One’, ‘Potty’, and, what I’m sure is your favourite, ‘Scarhead’.” “Let’s not forget the ever-endearing ‘Boy’. That’s courtesy of Uncle Vernon. Such an amiable chap.” Harry pulled a face but laughed quietly. “No, I mean something personal from someone I care about, not some stupid title from the Wizarding world or some nasty insult from Malfoy. I hope this doesn’t sound like I’m whinging, but no one has ever bothered to call me something that was affectionate and unique to them.” He locked eyes with her again, and his voice grew quiet. “I like it more than I can say. I just wondered why ‘Dearest’.” “Well, I would think that’s quite obvious,” Ginny replied while brushing his dishevelled hair off his brow. “‘Dearest’ is what you are to me, Harry. It’s as simple as that.” Harry rewarded her with a sweet, lingering kiss, suckling on her bottom lip before pulling away. Ginny was disappointed. They had conducted themselves with too much comportment since they had entered classroom eleven. She was just thinking she would have to change that when Harry scooted backwards, settling a couple of metres away from her. He regarded her from head to toe with a sly smile. She recognised his playful look and knew he was up to something. Her face remained serene under his scrutiny as she waited for him to have his fun. “Well, I will have to come up with something to call you. Somehow I don’t think you’d approve of ‘Sweetums’. No?” She glowered, and he chuckled. “Your gorgeous hair is an obvious source for potential nicknames, and in this light, it’s in its full glory. So perhaps ‘Red’, ‘Scarlet’, ‘Blaze’, ‘Fire’, ‘Firecracker’, ‘Firefly’, ‘Fireplace’, ‘Fire Hydrant’…” “Hey!” She cried indignantly, flicking a clump of moss at him. “Not the hair. Please!” She smiled to let him know she really did not mind. She knew he was correct about the effect of the waning light as she could see that the hair resting along her arm looked aflame. The magic of the room seemed to work in a similar way to the ceiling in the Great Hall. The sun must be setting outside, as the daylight had changed from a warm yellow and dappled green to a vibrant orange with long shadows. The light bathed Harry in an inviting glow, making his fair skin appear sun-kissed. A magical breeze ruffled his hair, and the leaves above rustled and swished soothingly. “Fair enough. Hmmmm. Somehow I don’t think your brothers would appreciate it if I called you ‘Sugar Quill’, but I might be able to get away with ‘Lolly’,” Harry declared innocently. Ginny saw nothing remotely endearing about either of those, but she could not ignore his lascivious grin spreading across his handsome face, which promised that he would soon have had enough of talking. About damn time. She did not want this beautiful setting and blessed privacy to go to waste. “And why would you want to call me either of those?” His eyes glinted, and her stomach clenched with excitement at the way he was ogling her. “Because they taste so good, and you can suck on them for hours.” ‘Lolly’ has a lovely ring to it. Ginny was definitely thrilled by this turn of the conversation, but she would not let him know that — not yet. “Prat.” “Oh, I’ve been called that one before. Add that to my list of nicknames.” He winked at her. “Well, I’ll find something perfect for you. I don’t need to decide today. It’s better not to force these things.” Harry stared at her much like he did during one of their little contests, but she was not in the mood to compete. She did, however, appreciate his gaze and scooted closer to him. “I don’t know about you, Harry, but I see that game as a way for us to enjoy each other when others are around. We’re all alone now and don’t need to play that game. There’s nothing stopping you from saying aloud exactly what’s on your mind.” Harry’s intense gaze never faltered as he inched the rest of the way to her. He slid his fingers through her hair. “I am saying exactly what I’m thinking. Do you have any idea how much I enjoy simply looking at you?” Ginny did not answer but instead marvelled at the enigma that was Harry Potter. Minutes ago he had been fretting needlessly over making her angry and not acting like a good boyfriend. He might need a nudge about certain issues, but, overall, his instincts on how to treat her had been flawless so far, in spite of his uncertainty. When it came to these more intimate moments, however, he exuded an unassuming yet sexy confidence that belied his relative inexperience. It was not a brash conceit or false in any way, but he always seemed to know what she wanted and managed to say the right things. As usual, his current flirtation was spot on, and she would not be able to stand the heat from his gaze much longer. Ginny wanted him to touch her properly. His hand moved from her hair as he caressed her cheek and neck. “Ginny, why don’t you blush for me anymore? You did that night when we first played our little game, and I wonder where it’s gone since then.” Oh, Circe, yes! Two can play at this game. Ginny placed her hand on Harry’s back and used the leverage to pull her body against his. She placed her mouth by his ear, wetted her lips, and whispered. “I don’t blush because I have no reason to feel embarrassed anymore. What you do to me now is much, much deeper.” She nipped quickly at his earlobe before pulling back. She tenderly removed his glasses, setting them aside, and gazed into those beloved, clear green eyes. Harry slowly dragged his thumb across her bottom lip, pulling it into an exaggerated pout. Any restraint the two of them had left was lost as their mouths finally met in a searing kiss. His lips and tongue were soft, and he paid extra attention to sucking her bottom lip, a technique he knew she liked. Ginny felt blood pounding in her ears as her pulse raced, and she began to feel light-headed. She lay back on the springy moss, pulling him down with her. She loved the feeling of his warm weight on top of her, and her hands found their way under his shirt again so that she could stroke the alluring skin of his back. She was grateful that the ground had been enchanted to be comfortable for the Divination students, as not a stick or tree root poked her uncomfortably. She might as well have been on the soft mattress of her four-poster except for the earthy smells of moss and dark, rich soil filling her nostrils. She was both exhilarated and frightened at the possibility of one day having Harry in her bed or, better yet, their bed. Ginny’s head reeled as she fully appreciated for the first time that Harry truly was hers and that, in the future, her bed might in fact be ‘their’ bed in ‘their’ house. She was no longer merely fantasizing about a devoted Harry. She clutched him a bit tighter to her body. Harry’s mouth left hers as he began to work his way down her neck, gently tugging at her shirt’s neckline to reach more skin. As he kissed just under her collar bone, she shivered. Harry lifted his head, his eyes and voice soft with concern. “Are you cold? I could conjure a blanket.” “No, Dearest, I’m not cold. Just happy.” Harry bestowed Ginny with the most beautiful smile she had ever seen. Her heart ached from all she felt for him. At that moment, she knew for certain that she loved him. His kisses became more languid and unhurried. Harry and Ginny spent a blissful hour slowly exploring each other in the ways new, young couples do — giggling, caressing, and murmuring to each other. Every place where Harry’s lips and hands tenderly touched her made her skin tingle, and she was excited when he shuddered and groaned from her touch. Ginny’s body craved more. She could tell that Harry, not wanting to pressure her, was restraining himself from taking things further as his fingers and mouth hesitated at unspoken boundaries. She could not help but be even more aroused by his evident desire, almost wishing he would push past those limits, yet she knew they should not rush. They had plenty of time to discover each other and to build on this wonderful relationship they had begun. As Harry and Ginny cuddled together, the stars began to twinkle above them, and she knew they must soon leave the haven Harry had found for them. He had briefly got his wish to shelter them from the rest of the world. She would hold on for a few more moments, not wanting to yet relinquish such a precious tableau. As she gazed at Harry and kissed one of his long fingers, there was only one word that could describe him, their relationship, and the past hour. Perfect. A/N : So if any of you are wondering what any of this has to do with willpower, well, I think the fact that they kept their clothes on shows a great deal of willpower. Ha! I promise that you won’t have to wait 6 months for the next sequel. Profuse thanks to my very talented betas and dear friends cwarbeck, Sovran, and fake a smile who each pushed and prodded me in different ways to improve the quality and content of the story. Please review as I would love feedback! |
| Reviews 46 |
|
