SIYE Time:13:54 on 17th February 2019

The Neck Thing
By morphin3

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Category: Post-OotP
Genres: Fluff, Humor
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 16
Summary: Harry and Ginny take their time getting to the Quidditch Pitch.
Hitcount: Story Total: 3084; Chapter Total: 597
Awards: View Trophy Room


Harry was doing the neck thing to her again, and it was driving Ginny mad.

They were on their way to the Quidditch pitch, but had gotten, erm, sidetracked just inside the doors. Ginny was laughing at something Harry said, and when she caught her breath and opened her eyes, he was much closer to her, and he was looking at her intensely, and then the next thing Ginny knew, she was pressed against the wall, her arms moving to encircle Harry’s neck.

The neck thing always started the same way: Harry would cup her face in his hands and begin to kiss her, and then as the snog deepened - as she matched his enthusiasm - his hands would slide back into her hair. {Ginny had always suspected, even before that fateful kiss in the Common Room, that Harry had a thing for her hair, and as they spent more time together, her suspicions were confirmed. Very confirmed. No doubt left in her mind, actually.}

But the hair was just the beginning. Harry would drag one hand from her hair down to her waist, to draw her closer to him {not that she resisted, Merlin help her}, and then his other hand would start...moving. As he kissed her - as she kissed him back - his hand that was still in her hair would stroke through to the ends of her ponytail {usually getting tangled in her hair band a few times before one of them would impatiently yank it out}.

After combing his fingers through her hair a few times, Harry would bring his hand to her back, then slide it oh so s l o w l y up to her neck. By this time, his lips have moved from her mouth to her jaw, towards her ear, and his hand would oh-so-gently massage and tickle her neck, and combined with his lips and tongue… Ginny could barely remain upright.

“Harry…” Ginny whimpered as he moved his mouth up towards her ear.

“Hmmm?” Harry’s eyes were closed and his fingers were still at her neck.

“Are we… are we actually going to… mmm, going to fly today?” It felt like Ginny’s lips had forgotten how to form words and were now only capable of pecking at Harry’s face and neck.

With what seemed like tremendous effort, Harry removed his hands from Ginny’s hair and back and brought them to rest on her shoulders. He leaned in for one more lingering kiss, then pulled back with a sigh. “I guess we should,” he shrugged, then smirked, “before we get too carried away.”

Ginny winked at him. “No, of course not, we mustn’t get too carried away. And we can’t have you slacking off with your flying practice, either,” she grinned at him.

A long-suffering sigh erupted from Harry, much to Ginny’s amusement. “I miss one game last month-”

“And a whole season last year with the Um-bitch,” Ginny interrupted, not willing to let him forget that little detail. The memory still made her blood boil...

“-and now all the Gryffindors do is nag me to fly more, to get back my edge, as if I’d lost it!” Harry continued, his hands beginning to play with Ginny’s hair again, and Ginny shivered.. “Can’t I just snog my girlfriend without the whole bloody team telling me to go flying?”

Ginny poked his stomach. “Oi, don’t be mad, Potter. You love flying, and you know you haven’t really lost your edge. Whoever thinks that is full of bullocks.”

Harry grinned at her and grabbed the hand that had poked him. “Darn right I haven’t lost my edge.”

Ginny twisted her hand in his and decided to tease him just a bit. “I mean, you’re faster than the Hufflepuff Seeker, for sure.” Harry stuck his tongue out at her and tugged her along as he began walking towards the door once more. Ginny skipped a bit to catch up with him, then continued, counting on her free hand. “You’re still better than the Slytherin Seeker, what’s-her-face? The fourth year.” Harry nodded and shrugged - he didn’t know the Slytherin Seeker’s name either - and held the door open for Ginny.

“And not to bring up your ex,” Ginny rolled her eyes; Harry blushed slightly and pulled her closer to him so he could sling his arm around her shoulders. Ginny snuggled closer to him as they continued walking towards the Quidditch pitch. “Not to bring her up, but yeah, Harry, you’re still faster-” Ginny looked up at Harry with mischief in her eyes; Harry thought her expression was just like the twins’ just then. “-than She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.”

Harry burst out laughing, so hard that he stopped walking and doubled over. Ginny ducked out from under his arm and watched him, a pleased and proud expression on her face. It had been a few days since Harry had let loose and laughed so freely, and Ginny was glad that he could laugh now, with her… she was glad that she could make him laugh.

Harry caught his breath and reached for her, squeezing her tight. “Thank you for that. I didn’t know how badly I needed a laugh…” he trailed off and huffed another little laugh. “Thanks.”

Ginny nestled into his arms, pressing her face against Harry’s chest. “Happy to oblige.”

Harry tightened his grip, and one hand began making its way up her back and to her neck {Merlin, he was going to do the neck thing again}, and then he pressed a kiss to Ginny’s forehead. Ginny raised her face so she could catch his lips with hers, feeling herself getting swept away into the sensations of his gentle hands and soft mouth and solid chest… but she pulled herself back, still in his arms, just enough to look up at him.

“Oi, let’s not get distracted, Potter,” Ginny tsked at him. Harry grinned at her, and she laughed. “You’re still not faster than all of Hogwarts’ Seekers.”

“Gin, I AM the other Hogwarts’ Seeker,” Harry protested, one hand moving again to her hair. “How can I be faster than myself?”

Ginny forced herself to ignore his hand as he tugged gently on a few strands {she was beginning to think that she had a thing for Harry having a thing for her hair} and raised an eyebrow cockily. “Did you forget who played as Seeker in that oh-so-important match last month?”

Harry pulled her back against his chest and murmured into her hair, “That was a pretty significant match, hmmm?” His hand moved from the bottom of her hair back to her neck, and Ginny mustered her self-control just enough to hold in a contented groan, knowing that her response would only encourage Harry.

She tried to take a step away from him, to put a little distance between them, to resist getting sidetracked again for the third time in fifteen bloody minutes but then Harry moved his mouth to the side of her jaw, and his hand came up to the back of her head, scraping gently along her scalp, and Ginny found that she had no strength, no desire to move away from this. So she kissed him back, and moved her hands into his mess of hair, and Harry let out a noise that was half-sigh, half-chuckle, and Ginny smiled and kept kissing him, pulling his mouth back to hers.

Harry brought both his hands to Ginny’s neck, and she swayed against him, her knees buckling slightly. Harry laughed and caught her, keeping them both upright, but he had to remove his hands from her neck and grab her waist instead. Ginny groaned, lifting her head and dropping her hands to Harry’s shoulders. “We are never going to make it onto the pitch at this rate, Potter, not if you keep doing that neck thing,” she said with a hint of exasperation in her voice.

Harry smirked at her. “What neck thing is that? And who says we have to go flying right this minute?”

Ginny smirked right back and gave him a little shove. “You know what neck thing. That thing you do with my hair on my neck… augh, you know exactly what you’re doing to me!” She pointed a finger at him accusingly; Harry kept smirking and his eyes twinkled. “Don’t change the subject, Harry. You may be Gryffindor’s star Seeker, Harry, but I can still fly laps around you on this pitch.”

Harry hummed and caught her hand in his and began walking, once again, towards the pitch. “Is that a challenge?”

Ginny interlaced their fingers and beamed at him. “Of course it is. Think you can handle it?”

With a laugh, Harry responded, “Oh, I think so. Accio my Firebolt and Ginny’s Cleansweep.” He pointed his wand towards the broom shed, and almost instantly the two brooms were hovering at their sides.

Reluctantly, Harry let go of Ginny’s hand and mounted his broom. “How about we make this challenge more interesting?”

“I’m listening.” Ginny mounted her own broom and then felt in her pockets for another hair tie. “What’ll you give me when I beat you?” She tried to maintain her bravado as she realized her hair tie search was futile. Damn all those snogs and the neck thing she thought, but she didn’t really mean it, because honestly, who could condemn the neck thing when it came down to it?

Amused, Harry reached into his own pocket and handed her a hair tie. Ginny’s jaw dropped a little in shock, and Harry snorted. “Don’t look so surprised, Gin. It’s not like I drop them on the floor when we snog. I’m not that distracted.” Ginny stuck her tongue out at him, and Harry laughed. “As I was saying, I think we could make this flying practice more interesting. And I think what you’ll give me when I win is” his eyes gleamed wickedly behind his glasses, and Ginny’s mouth went a bit dry in anticipation “-a poem.” He grinned at her, looking far too pleased with himself.

Ginny gaped at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. She pitched forward, holding her sides, roaring with laughter. She felt tears prick her eyes and flames burst in her cheeks, and she kept on laughing.

“I’m serious!” Harry protested, reaching out a hand to make sure she didn’t fall off her broom. Ginny caught her breath and glanced at him, but couldn’t keep it in and she started laughing again. “Harry,” she gasped as she wiped away a tear, “if I wasn’t already going to trounce you around this pitch, THAT would definitely motivate me to win.” She took a deep breath, still shaking from laughing so hard. “Merlin’s beard, I am never writing another poem in my life!”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed. “Not even when I win, Weasley?”

“Not ever, because I am going to win, Potter, and when I do,” Ginny paused, turning to face Harry full-on, “you’re going to snog me and do that neck thing again.” She winked at him, then kicked off the ground into the air. Harry quickly followed, catching up to her {Ginny might have let him catch her, just to hear his response}. “I guess if you win, Weasley,” Harry’s voice was low, but Ginny could hear him clearly even through the wind, “we’ll both win. And if you lose, well,” he smirked again, and Ginny felt a zing of excitement that had nothing to do with their altitude, “I guess we’ll have a do-over, because I like the neck thing better than poetry.” Ginny shivered, but shook it off so she could hunch over her broom and yell, “Ready, set, GO!” And they were off.
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