Firsts by lilyevans_Jan30



Summary: Harry and Ginny have fun learning that there's a first time for everything. What are friends for, right?
Rating: R starstarstarstarhalf-star
Categories: Post-OotP, Post-HBP, Post-DH/AB
Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 2009.04.06
Updated: 2009.07.31


Index

Chapter 1: What are friends for?
Chapter 2: The Pact
Chapter 3: I Never
Chapter 4: Bludgers
Chapter 5: Christmas gifts
Chapter 6: Backtracking
Chapter 7: The Date
Chapter 8: Pillow Talk


Chapter 1: What are friends for?

Author's Notes: First of all, yes, I'm getting started on Battle of Souls again - it has definitely not been abandoned. I've been busier than expected with a new job and writing a fun Harry/Ginny story that is definitely not SIYE-appropriate. If you're interested, it's at ff.net under the name mhersheybar - called In Case of Emergency.


I wrote this story in response to a casual Livejournal challenge posted by my beta. The prompt was a write a story where Harry and Ginny made a pact to do . . . something together, for the first time, if that . . . something had not happened for them by a certain deadline. Take from that what you will. In the story, Harry and Ginny become friends earlier than in canon, but they don't date during Harry's Sixth year. Also, I couldn't kill off Fred, but you won't discover that until chapter two.


This is another dialogue intense story, ala An Icy Reception, although not nearly as difficult to follow. Enjoy!


August 27, 1994

“So.”

“So.”

“Umm, are you sure you want to do this?”

“I’m sure. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I mean, why not, right? I’ve got to do it some time.”

“Right. And you don’t want your first time for real, I mean, with a girl you actually like, to be all weird because you have no idea what you’re doing.”

“Hey, I like you, Ginny.”

“You know what I mean, Harry. And I’m tired of being the only girl in my year practically, who’s never kissed a boy.”

“Heh. Except for Enid Blanks. You know, that Slytherin with the mustache.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not even sure she is a girl . . . so, are we going to do this?”

“Yeah. Uhh, what should I do?”

“Just close your eyes. And your mouth.”

“Yes ma’am. Closing.”

“Okay, here goes.”

Silence

“Huh.”

“Well. That was . . . fine, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. It was good. I mean, I think it was good. Do you?”

“Yeah . . . Good.”

Silence

“Uhh, d’you want to go find Ron and Hermione and play two-a-side?”

“Definitely. And, umm, Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“Of course. I mean, what are friends for?”

********************************

December 2, 1994

“My sister? You asked my sister? I thought you fancied Cho.” Ron was staring incredulously
at Harry, almost as though he didn’t recognize him.

Harry shifted uncomfortably on the sofa in the Common Room and wished Ron would keep his
voice down. “Yeah, well, Diggory already asked her . . .”

“The git,” Ron broke in. “Okay, fine. But why’d you go and ask Ginny instead? I mean she’s .
. . you know. It’s Ginny.” He suddenly sat up straight and grabbed Harry’s arm. “Wait, you don’t like her, do you? Ginny?”

Harry shook him off. “No, Ron,” he said, extremely grateful that he and Ginny had been able to
keep their summer kiss a secret. True, it had just been to give them both the experience, but still, he suspected Ron wouldn’t appreciate hearing that Harry and his little sister had been practicing anything (except maybe Quidditch moves) on each other.

“If you had to ask a girl, why didn’t you ask Hermione?”

Harry mentally rolled his eyes at his best friend. “I just didn’t, okay? Ginny and I are friends
too, and anyway, she couldn’t go if I didn’t ask her — she’s not a Fourth Year.” He paused and
pretended to think. “Hey, why don’t you ask Hermione? I bet she’d say yes.”

“Me?” Ron looked surprised. “Why would I do that?”

Harry sighed. “Well for one, she’s probably the only girl in the entire school who’ll know better
than to laugh at your dress robes.” He’d meant it as a jab at his friend’s obliviousness, but Ron
actually looked back at him seriously.

“You know, you’re right. And she won’t be all annoying and giggly like some of those other
girls. Too bad she doesn’t know more about Quidditch. Yeah, I’ll take Hermione.” He settled
back into the sofa, looking satisfied.

“Uhh, Ron?”

“Yeah?”

“It may just be me, but I think it helps if you actually ask the girl first, you know?”

Ron punched Harry in the arm. “Yeah, thanks.”

***********************
August 11, 1995

“Sorry I didn’t get you anything for your birthday.” Harry stood awkwardly at the door of the
room in Grimmauld Place Ginny was currently sharing with Hermione.

Ginny snorted. “Harry, between my mum and Moody, I’m surprised you can even go to the loo
by yourself, let alone all the way to Diagon Alley to get me a present.” She raised her eyebrows.
“You’ll just have to get me something doubly good for Christmas, okay?”

Harry laughed, relieved. “It’s a deal.” He started to leave the room.

“Oh, and Harry?”

“Hmmm?”

“Spit on Fudge for me tomorrow if you get the chance. Percy too, if you can swing it.”

Harry grinned in at her, one of the first real smiles he’d given since he’d arrived at Grimmauld
Place. Leave it to Ginny not to make a big deal about everything. “I’ll do my best.”

*****************************
December 20, 1995

“Harry?” Ginny spoke quietly in the now jubilant kitchen so that no one else could hear.

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember on my birthday, I said you’d owe me a doubly good Christmas present since
you couldn’t get anything then?”

“Yeah, but Ginny, I’m not sure if I can . . .”

“You’re off the hook. For about the next ten years.”

********************************

December 21, 1995

“Ginny?” Harry once again stood at the doorway of Ginny’s Grimmauld Place bedroom. She
didn’t look up from the book she was reading, but Harry wasn’t fooled.

“Hmm?” she asked, running her finger down the page.

“I’m a prat, aren’t I? For forgetting about the Chamber.”

Ginny sighed and closed the book, finally looking up at Harry. “Well, yes, you are prat.” She
grinned suddenly. “But you’re forgiven. You’ve had a lot on your mind.”

Harry walked into the room and sat down next to Ginny on the bed. “Just promise me
something. If I ever act like a prat again, or forget something important, you’ll smack me. K?”

Ginny grinned a second time. “Mess up again, Potter, and I’ll do a lot better than just smack
you,” she rolled her wand around in her hand and raised her eyebrows.

Harry jumped back in mock horror. “Hey now, you wouldn’t want to do anything permanent to
your first kiss, would you?” He nudged her. “Although, from the show I got in the Entrance
Hall last week, it looks like Michael Corner has definitely taken my place.”

Ginny gave him an innocent stare. “I have no idea what you are talking about. And anyway,
from what I’ve heard, you’ve been getting a bit more practice in that area yourself.”

Harry turned red. “How about we agree not to mention it ever again?”

Ginny stuck out her hand for him to shake. “Deal.”

**************************
July 16, 1996

“Ahhh, thish wuzza lotta fun, Harry. . . . Harry?”

“. . . Ginny, di’jah ever notice how sparkly the stars were? They’re like little bitty wands, up in th’ sky. Up there. Up.”

“I can’t seeeee them! Where?”

“You hafta turn over on your back, Ginny. An’ look at the sky.”

“Ohhh. Pretty.”

“Hey, is there anymore of that Firewhisky left?”

“Nope. Nope nope nope. We drank the whooooooole bottle. Yummy.”

“I hope your mum doesn’t find out. She’s scary when she yells.”

“She’ll blame Gred and Forge . . . I mean, Fred and Gorge, I mean, Fed and . . . the twins. She’ll
think it was th’ twins.”

Silence

“Thanksh for getting the bottle, Ginny. It’s time we learned how to hold our liquor, don’cha
think?”

“Ri’ now you’re holding my hand, Harry.”

“Ooops. Wouldn’t wanna upset Dean. He’s my roommate, Dean is. He’sa nice bloke.”

Silence

“Is he nice t’ you?”

“Who?”

“Dean. Is Dean nice t’ you, Ginny?”

“Oh. Yeah. He’s nice. He’s very, very nice. An a good kisser too.”

“Better’n me?”

“Harry!”

“Sorry. Ferget I asked.”

Silence

“Harry?”

“Hmmm?”

“No.”

**************************

May 6, 1997

The roar that hit Harry like a brick wall as he pushed open the portrait hole told him the answer
even before he could focus on the grinning faces or catch sight of the enormous Quidditch Cup
Ron held. The noise carried him over the threshold and into the room where he was alternately
slapped on the back, high-fived, and, when he finally got over to Ginny, enveloped in an
enormous hug.

He pulled back to grin at her after a minute. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement and she
was almost jumping up and down in his arms. “We won Harry! We won!”

*****************************
May 29, 1997

“You’re not coming back, are you? Next year, I mean.”

Ginny spoke quietly over the voice of the wizened old wizard who was droning on and on about
a Dumbledore Harry was certain he’d never met. He looked her in the face and knew he
couldn’t lie. She’d know, anyway.

“No. He - ” and here Harry gestured up at the white marble tomb — “Dumbledore, I mean, gave
me something to do. And only I can do it.”

“Something noble and dangerous.” Ginny was nodding her head and Harry heard the unspoken
completion of her sentence. Something noble and dangerous, you git.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“Will I see you before you go?”

Harry looked at her. She was resigned, her eyes were dry, her mouth set. There hadn’t been
even the smallest attempt to talk him out of it. This is why she’s one of my best friends.

“Yes Ginny, I promise.”

*****************************
July 31, 1997

Two more days, just two more days. That’s when they were leaving — “they”, and not “he”,
because of course he should have guessed that Ron and Hermione would insist on coming along.
Harry didn’t mind; actually it was rather reassuring to know he’d have two of his best mates
along on what promised to be a difficult, frustrating and likely dangerous journey. Even though
he felt incredibly guilty that they insisted on going.

At least Ginny will be safe. It was enough on Harry’s conscience that he was putting one Weasley
into mortal danger by bringing him along, but at least Ron’s parents were more or less used to
their youngest son getting caught up in various harrowing activities with Harry. Their only
daughter would probably have been another matter entirely. Not for the first time Harry thanked
Merlin that Ginny would still have the Trace on her for another year, and so couldn’t possibly
come along on the Horcrux hunt.

Now there were only two more days — and Bill and Fleur’s wedding to get through — and they’d
be off. Despite Hermione’s frantic packing and repacking, it didn’t seem at all real. And Harry
had completely avoided saying any goodbyes. Ginny would probably want to kill him, but it
was imperative that no one knew exactly when they were leaving. Much safer to keep the rest of
the family entirely in the dark about the trio’s plans.

“Harry?” Without even realizing where he was going, he’d ended up outside Ginny’s bedroom
door.

“Hey.” Harry had never been inside her room before, and now he looked around curiously at the
pale yellow walls, the posters of the Weird Sisters and the Holyhead Harpies, the small desk
underneath a window looking out over the orchard.

“I like your room,” he began just as Ginny said “I never gave you a birthday present.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “You don’t have to . . .”

“I know I don’t have to, Harry,” Ginny interrupted him. “But I wanted to. I just couldn’t think
of anything you could take with you.”

“It’s okay, Ginny, really. Look, I didn’t get you anything either, so we’re even, see?” He gave
her what he hoped was an honest smile, and finally she smiled back.

“Fine,” she sighed.

Harry looked around the room again, trying to think of something else to say. “I’m sorry about
you and Dean,” he finally said.

Ginny didn’t look that upset. “Yeah, well, that’s okay. It wasn’t that serious anyway.”

Harry smirked, remembering something. “And anyway, I’m a better kisser, right?”

“What? When did I say that?”

“Last summer. When we got drunk.”

“Hmmm. I definitely don’t remember saying that.”

Harry pretended to be indignant. “You mean, I’m not a better kisser than Dean?”

“I don’t really know, Harry. I mean, you and I kissed so long ago — I can’t exactly remember
well enough to make a fair comparison.” Ginny had been moving closer to him as she spoke,
until Harry could see the gold flecks in her brown eyes. Her tongue darted out and across her
lips.

Harry swallowed. “May - - maybe there’s something that can help you remember.”

Ginny moved even closer. “Maybe there is.”

The kiss was as soft and sweet as their first. Harry remembered how Ginny’s lips felt on his and
how her hair smelled so like flowers that it made him want to run his hands through it. This time
he did, and then tentatively opened his mouth enough to brush his tongue against Ginny’s lips.

She opened her mouth to his and Harry almost squeaked in surprise. This was so much better
than his kiss with Cho.

But he was leaving. In two days.

Slowly, reluctantly, he broke the kiss, gently pulling his mouth away from hers, but leaving his
fingers tangled in her hair and his arms around her waist — when had they moved there?

She smiled up at him, a little sadly, and ran one hand down his cheek. “Happy birthday Harry.”

Back to index


Chapter 2: The Pact

Author's Notes: Thanks for enjoying and commenting! And for those who don't like discussions about premarital sex, I suggest you not continue with this story. It isn't going to be anything explicit, but it's there.


July 31, 1998

Harry gazed lazily at the dragonflies chasing each other around the edge of the pond. Occasionally one would even land on his chest or leg, obviously mistaking his lethargic stillness for a log or lily pad or something. He flicked a finger at them once or twice and then gave up; they weren’t bothering him, and really, just laying here with absolutely nothing to do besides listen to the breeze was heavenly.

Beside him, Ginny gave a contented sigh. “This is like heaven, isn’t it?”

Harry chuckled. “Have you been secretly studying Legilimency? I was just thinking the same thing.”

Ginny poked him in the side. “I just know the way your mind works Potter. I just can’t believe we all finally have a day to just do nothing — and on your birthday, no less.”

“Ummhmmm,” Harry agreed. The months since the war had ended had been almost frenetically busy, between memorial services, rebuilding Hogwarts and meetings at the Ministry as Harry and his friends decided what to do in the coming year. The offer Kingsley and others had come up with was probably the best situation possible, given the circumstances.

“I can’t believe you and Hermione and Neville and Ron are going to be lecturing at Hogwarts this year,” said Ginny, guessing Harry’s thoughts yet again.

“And a few others,” added Harry. “Kingsley wanted to draw on all our experiences to add to the curriculum from time to time. It’ll be a good break from Auror training every month.”

“I know you’ll do great, and we all know that Hermione will probably be ridiculously over-prepared and set way too much homework. But what in the name of Merlin is Ron going to be talking about?”

Harry chuckled. “Strategy, actually. You’d be surprised at how well the game of chess can be applied to real life defense. Plus, we’ll be teaching together, dueling and stuff like that.”

“You mean, you’ll be putting hexes and things on my brother and he’ll be trying to dodge them?”

“Something like that. Although if we want to make it really interesting, I’ll set him against Hermione.”

Ginny snorted. “Given the way he looks at her these days, he’d probably just consider it a really intense form of foreplay.” She was quiet for a second before looking back at Harry.

“They’re sleeping together, you know.”

Harry sat up quickly. “They . . . what?”

“I walked in on Hermione practicing a contraceptive charm on herself and she admitted it to me.” Ginny shuddered. “I’m just glad it was her I saw and not Ron.”

Harry thought about the news and realized he wasn’t really surprised. “It makes sense. Things really changed for them after Malfoy Manor. I guess I didn’t think about what that meant.” He leaned back in the grass and put his hands behind his head. “Wow, ickle Ronniekins. No longer a virgin. I guess that’s why we haven’t seen as much of him and Hermione in the past few weeks.”

Ginny laughed. “They’re just lucky the twins haven’t found out yet.”

“Yeah. But I hope I’m around to watch when they do.”


“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“You know . . . are you a . . . I mean, have you ever . . .?

“Oh, right. Umm, no. Of course not . . . who would I ever have done it with? Cho?”

“Heh, I guess not. And this past year . . . ”

“Definitely not.”

“Yeah, I guess not.”

. . . .

“Ginny?”

“Yeah?”

“What about you? Did you and Dean . . .?”

“No! Not even close. And not with Michael either, if you were going to ask.”

“Neville?”

“What??”

“He did invite you to the Yule Ball.”

“I actually went with you, Harry, remember?”

“Seamus?”

“Harry!”

“Sorry, sorry. Just wondering.”

“No one. I haven’t slept with anyone either. Once again, I’m probably the only one in my year who hasn’t. I’ll probably be a virgin forever.”

. . . . .

“Ginny?”

“Yeah?”

“You know the summer before my fourth year? When we uhhh, practiced kissing on each other?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I was wondering if you wanted to do that again.”

“Harry, I know it was a year ago, but if I remember your last birthday correctly, I think you already know how to kiss.”

“No, I didn’t mean practice kissing. I meant . . . other things.”

“You want to practice having sex on each other for your birthday this year?”

“No! Well, not exactly. I was just thinking . . . forget it.”

“Harry . . . tell me.”

“It’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not stupid. Please? We’re friends, we can tell each other anything, right?”

“Nice try, Ginny.”

“I thought you loved backrubs!”

“I do. Yours especially . . . I just don’t want you to think I’m that easy.”

“Harry, you’re propositioning we have sex. What am I supposed to think?”

“Good point. Okay, fine. Umm, I was thinking that since you’re a virgin, and I’m a virgin, and neither of us have any immediate prospects to change that status — right?”

“Right, Harry.”

“Okay, right then. So I was thinking that maybe, if neither of us have changed our status in say, a year, we, er . . . we do something about it. Together.”

“We sleep together, you mean.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Silence

“Make it six months.”

“Six months? Really, Ginny?”

“Yeah. I mean, we’re not getting any younger, right?”

“Right! I mean, sure. Six months is good.”

“So, six months. That will be . . . January 31?”

“Heh, it’ll probably be too cold out to do anything else, anyway.”

“Harry!”

“Sorry.”

. . . . .

“I still didn’t get you anything for your birthday, Harry.”

“Well, I liked last year’s present . . . .”

****************************
September 30, 1998

“I think I’m going to throw up.” Harry was pacing back and forth across the Gryffindor common room shuffling feverishly through a sheaf of parchment covered in messy notes.

“Harry, you’re going to be fine,” said Ginny reassuringly. “ We’re talking about a bunch of First Years. They’re going to be a lot more scared of you than you are of them.”

“Exactly. They’re going to stare at my scar and expect me to banish Voldemort right in front of them and when I can’t they’ll probably decide I’m the most boring teacher at Hogwarts. Including Binns.”

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. “Harry, you were great with the DA. This is the same thing. And . . . who says you can’t show off a bit for them? Give them what they expect — a great show of you , defending yourself against Dark forces.”

“And who are these Dark forces — Filch and Mrs. Norris? Blame your brother for not being here to help me. His first Auror training class and he ends up in St. Mungo’s, the git.”

“I’m sure they’ll figure out how to remove his tentacles soon. But if you need help, I’m free next period.”

Harry looked at Ginny. “You’d give up your free time to come help me teach a bunch of ickle firsties? I thought you wanted to go fly, Miss Quidditch Captain.”

Ginny shrugged. “You’ll just have to come out and help me plan our playbook later, Mr. former Quidditch Captain.”

“It’s a deal.”

Even with Ginny beside him, Harry was nervous walking into the classroom for his first DADA guest lecture. As he entered, there was a rustle of excited female whispering. Several of the young witches began fluffing their hair and giving him winning smiles, reminding Harry uncomfortably of his second year and Professor Lockhart.

Most of the male students were still staring dumbly at their professor and Harry exchanged a grin with Ginny. Fleur was proving to be an excellent DADA teacher but even a month into the school year it still took her ten minutes at the start of every class to get the attention of most of the boys.

Fleur smiled encouragingly at Harry and went to the front of the classroom.

“Class, we ‘ave a very special lecturer today. ‘E needs no introduction, I am certain. Mr. ‘Arry Potter is going to be giving you a demonstration of Defense Against ‘ze Dark Arts and it looks like Miss Ginny Weasley, a Seventh Year, is going to be ‘elping him. Correct, non?”

“Non, I mean, yeah,” said Harry hastily, ignoring the giggles from the front row. He turned and faced the class.

“Umm, okay. Defense Against the Dark Arts,” he began. He really wasn’t sure how much to show or tell this group of students. Some of them had probably lost family members to Voldemort. Others were probably the children of Death Eaters, or at least those who had supported them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a boy in a green robe lean across his desk to whisper into the ear of another Slytherin. The smirk on the boy’s face wiped away all of Harry’s nervousness.

“CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” he yelled loudly, smacking his books down on the desk and watching as all the students jumped.

“That is your first lesson,” he said firmly. “No matter how safe you think you may be, no matter where you are, never forget, there are dark forces and evil people who will try to do you harm. Facing them takes skill, practice, nerve, and luck, although not necessarily in that order.” At the side of the room, Ginny was laughing and giving him a thumbs up.

The class laughed hesitantly, and then a small girl in the front row raised her hand.

“Yes Miss . . . ?” he began.

“Calhoun,” the girl said, blushing furiously. “Professor, is it really true that you killed V-v-voldemort with the Disarming Spell?”

Harry smiled back at her. “First of all, ten points to Hufflepuff for saying Voldemort’s name. Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself. Remember that. And, yes. That’s more or less how it happened. Why don’t I show you?”

Beckoning to Ginny, Harry pulled out his wand.

“Now, class, this is Ginny Weasley, a good friend of mine who’s wicked with her wand. I expect her to give me a run for my money, okay?” He directed the last to Ginny. She nodded, a slight smirk on her face.

“You’re going down, Potter,” she muttered, pulling out her own wand.

“We’ll see about that, Weasley,” he replied out of the corner of his mouth.

They faced each other and bowed. Raising their wands, both yelled, “Expelliarmus!” at nearly the same time. Harry was a hair faster, and Ginny’s wand soared out of her hand and into Harry’s. The class applauded.

Ginny grinned and turned to the students. “And that, class, is how Harry defeated Voldemort.” She winked. “I let him win, you know.”

Harry handed Ginny’s wand back to her, nudging her with his hip at the same time. “Did you, now? Well then, why don’t we demonstrate how good you are at dodging hexes, hmm?”

Ginny grinned again and crossed to the other side of the room. Harry began firing hexes and jinxes at her and Ginny dodged every one. The class was oohing and ahhing and Harry had just lowered his wand to speak to them again when out of the corner of his eye he saw Ginny raise her wand and point it at him.

“MYOTIS MUCOCUS!!” she yelled, and a bright yellow light flew out of the end of her wand.
Harry managed to get his shield up just in time and Ginny’s Bat Bogey Hex bounced off it and dissipated.

“Hey, not fair!” yelled a number of the first years. “Yeah, he wasn’t even looking!” cried one girl from the back of the room.

Harry turned towards the class. “And you think your enemies will always wait until you’re looking before they attack you?”

“What was that hex she shot?” asked a boy in Gryffindor robes.

Harry grinned. “That was Ginny’s infamous Bat Bogey Hex. I’ve been on the receiving end of it only once, and trust me, it’s not something I ever want to experience again.” He looked at Ginny. “How about one more demonstration before the end of class — has anyone here heard of a Patronus?”

An eager looking girl in the front row threw her hand wildly into the air. Ginny looked at Harry and he could tell she was trying not to laugh; the resemblance to Hermione was uncanny.

“It’s a positive force used to repell Dementors,” the girls said breathlessly without waiting to be called on. “It takes the shape of an animal, but it’s really a reflection of your happiest thoughts and memories,” she continued. “But they’re supposed to be really, really difficult to conjure,” she finished weakly.

“Ten points to . . . Gryffindor,” said Harry. “Good job. Every person’s Patronus is different. You won’t know what yours is until you conjure one for the first time, but they often take the form of an animal that has special meaning to the caster, or else one that has characteristics that are representative of the witch or wizard the Patronus belongs to.”

He looked at Fleur. “Do you want to demonstrate too?” she nodded and came to stand next to Ginny. Harry looked at them both. “Ready?”

Ginny and Fleur nodded.

Harry didn’t have trouble coming up with happy thoughts these days; almost any recent day worked now that the war was over. He counted to three.

“Expecto Patronum!” Harry, Ginny and Fleur all yelled at the same time.

“Whoa, cool!” the students in the class were duly impressed and began chattering among themselves. Fleur’s large peacock jumped onto the desk and unfurled its feathers causing the class to break into applause.

Harry watched his stag canter lightly around the classroom; he hadn’t conjured it since the Final Battle, he realized. He watched it fondly, not really paying attention to the rest of the class until the voice of one student broke into his thoughts.

“Awww, that’s so cute, they match!” The girl that looked like Hermione was pointing at another silvery figure across the room.

Harry was confused. Snape’s dead. He pulled out his wand and then realized that Ginny was standing next to the silver doe with a perplexed look on her face. She caught Harry’s eye and shrugged.

Fleur had banished her own Patronus with a flick of her wand. “Okay everyone, that’s enough for today. We ‘ave about five minutes for me to set your ‘omework before the bell rings.” She turned to Harry and Ginny.

“Thank you so much for the demonstration, mes cheries,” she said. Her eyes were twinkling at them and Harry got the impression she was trying to hold back a smile.

“We will see you again later for my second and third years, non?”

“Uhh, yeah,” said Harry. “I’ll be back later. But I think Ginny has class then.”

“I do,” she said. She seemed distracted.

They left the classroom together and walked along the corridor in silence. Finally Harry spoke.
“When did your Patronus change to a doe?”

“I don’t know.” Ginny’s voice was small beside him. “The last time I conjured it was at the Final Battle. It was still a horse then.” She looked up at Harry. “I don’t want you to think . . .” she began, just as Harry said, “Maybe it’s because . . .” He stopped.

“Go on,” said Ginny. “Maybe it’s because what?”

Harry shuffled a bit. “Well, maybe it’s because of our agreement, you know?”

Ginny wrinkled her brow. “Yeah, but people have sex all the time and their Patronuses don’t change.”

Harry shrugged, non-plussed. “Most people don’t make a formal agreement to have sex some time in the future either,” he said. He knocked his hip into hers. “Or maybe you still have that old crush on me?”

Ginny smacked him on the shoulder. “I was afraid you’d think that!” she cried. “And no, I don’t, thank you very much. I have no idea why it changed. Maybe I was always meant to have the doe but couldn’t as long as Snape did.”

“Hmmm, maybe,” said Harry.

They didn’t mention it again. Fleur never said anything either, for which Harry was glad. He could only imagine what Ginny’s brothers would say about something that really was not a big deal at all.

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Chapter 3: I Never

Author's Notes: This story is about finished, so I'll be posting fairly quickly. It's moving towards being R rated (for SIYE, at least), so keep that in mind when you decide whether or not to read. Enjoy!


November 1, 1998

Harry leaned back against the back of the sofa with a contented sigh. It had been a brilliant idea, really. He couldn’t remember who’d suggested it first, but Professor McGonagall had been quite enthusiastic to have Harry, Ron, Hermione and a few other former members of Dumbledore’s Army spend three days at Hogwarts counseling Seventh Years about options for their future. Harry suspected that the Headmistress had envisioned serious discussions about job opportunities with groups of eager students, over a cup of tea perhaps.

He was quite sure that a couple of bottles of Old Ogden’s Firewhisky had not figured into the Headmistress’ plans.

Well, they had talked about jobs and the future earlier, Harry consoled himself. Before dinner, a group of students had gotten together in the Room of Requirement and talked about the Auror corps and the Ministry and other types of jobs. Harry had been quite enthusiastic about his new job; Ron, less so, preferring to demonstrate a number of new Wheezes products he’d brought at Fred and George’s request. Hermione had babbled on and on until Harry had finally shot a non-verbal distraction charm at her and Ron had grabbed her for a snog before she could figure out what had happened.

But now it was late and the Gryffindor common room was extremely comfortable and Seamus Finnigan had a wicked look in his eye as he tapped bottles with his wand to open them.

Harry caught Ginny’s eye as she relaxed in the chair next to him. “This could get interesting,” she muttered quietly to him.

“Or incriminating,” he said back. “Seamus never goes halfway when it comes to Firewhisky.”

“We’re going to play ‘I Never,’” Seamus announced. “It’s a simple game, no skill needed at all.” He smirked. “But experience counts a lot.”

Harry noticed that Neville looked rather nervous. Harry himself wasn’t feeling that confident either. Truth be told, his experience had not progressed farther than the kisses he and Ginny had shared on a couple of his birthdays.

There had been plenty of opportunities for more; witches were constantly slipping him notes or making suggestions that they “get together.” All the attention was probably the reason he hadn’t been with anyone. It felt tawdry or meaningless to be with a witch just because he wanted to get more experience.

Unless it’s Ginny.

Harry glanced at her. His agreement with Ginny was totally different. She was . . . Ginny. She was his friend — had been for years. They were in this together, and he knew she would not go running to the newspapers or anything afterwards. It was just for the two of them. He smiled to himself. Yes, it was right for it to be Ginny.

“What are you smiling about?” Ginny was holding out a glass of Firewhisky towards him. She had one of her own and Harry realized the game had already begun. He blushed.

“Just thinking about how little drinking I’m about to do,” he admitted. “And that six months from now our answers to the questions should be pretty different.”

“Three months, Harry,” Ginny corrected. She looked suddenly shy. “So you still want to . . . do what we agreed?”

Harry tried not to show surprise at the fact that three months out of their six had already elapsed. He nodded. “Of course I do, we promised, right?” He looked at her. “I mean, I do if you still do. Do you?”

“Yeah,” said Ginny. “I mean, we need to at this point, don’t you think? We can’t be virgins forever.”

“Right,” said Harry. “And this way there’s no pressure or anything.”

“Right,” agreed Ginny, just as Seamus called out, “I’ve never snogged a witch in the Room of Requirement!” before taking a big drink.

Ginny suddenly looked embarrassed. She gestured towards Harry’s glass. “Harry, you need to . . . I mean . . . didn’t you kiss Cho in the Room of Requirement?”

“Oh,” said Harry. “Yeah, I guess I did.” He took a drink. “That’s probably about all I’m going to be drinking tonight, though.”

He watched as Ginny took a drink in answer to a question about getting caught kissing one’s boyfriend or girlfriend and he remembered the look on Ron’s face when the two of them had caught Ginny and Dean snogging in a deserted corridor. He was extremely glad that Ron still had no idea he and Ginny had kissed. He might be Ron’s best mate, but the bloke could be extremely overprotective when it came to his little sister.

“I’ve never had a bloke remove my bra with magic!” called out Demelza Robbins. Then she grinned and took a drink of her own. Harry turned back to Ginny.

“Looks like things are going to get pretty crazy soon,” he said. Almost everyone in the room was drinking now. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was watching Ginny each time a new question was asked, curious about how far she’d gone with either Dean or Michael. She didn’t drink in answer to Demelza’s question and Harry let out a breath.

“So you haven’t . . . done that?”

Ginny shook her head. “Uh uh.” She lowered her voice; Dean was across the room. “Dean wanted to, but it felt . . . wrong.” She blushed. “He touched me over my shirt though.”

“Oh,” said Harry. He suddenly felt sullen. “I haven’t even done that.”

A loud snort of laughter interrupted him. Hermione was giggling and using her tongue to trace around Ron’s ear to the sound of shouts and wolf whistles. Harry sighed. “Or that.”

“D’you . . . want to?” Ginny’s voice was quiet. Harry looked at her.

“Huh?”

“I mean, we’ve done enough other things together to get them over with, and no one would notice if we left — they’re all too busy getting pissed and fooling around.” She was speaking in a rush and not looking at Harry.

“You’re offering to let me . . . touch you?” Harry was sure he was bright red now, but he wanted to make sure he understood.

“Above the waist only,” said Ginny firmly. “But . . . yeah. If you want.”

Harry grinned. He felt much better all of a sudden. “Wow. Thanks Ginny.” He smiled happily. Cool, he thought.

“So, do you?”

“Huh?”

“Do you want to go somewhere and . . . do things?” Ginny wasn’t looking at the ground anymore. She actually looked a bit . . . eager. Harry grabbed her hand.

“ I want,” he said. “Where should we go?”

Ginny looked around. “My room?” she asked. “I don’t think my roommates will be up any time soon.

Indeed, Demelza was currently straddling Dean, Vicky Froshbiner was giggling with Richie Coote, and Jimmy Peakes and a Sixth Year student whose name Harry couldn’t remember were sitting with Seamus, Lavender and Parvati trying to tip drinks into each others’ mouths by magic. Even Neville was busy, talking shyly to an equally red Hannah Abbott who had come up to the Gryffindor common room with Ernie McMillan and Susan Bones. No one was paying Harry and Ginny any attention at all.

“I don’t think I can get up to your room though,” said Harry. “Cause I’m uhh, a bloke.”

Ginny looked thoughtful. “Actually, I think you can now. I kind of walked in on my brother and Hermione on her old bed yesterday,” she grimaced. “Please don’t ask what they were doing.”

“Don’t worry,” said Harry. “But I wonder what changed?”

“I think it’s because you’re officially ‘adjunct professors’ at Hogwarts now. The security wards register you as faculty, not students.”

“Faculty, hmmm,” said Harry. “Works for me.” He stood up and held out his hand to Ginny. “Shall we?”

No one seemed to notice the two of them leave, and Harry made a mental note to find a sleeping spot that night that was far away from any of the revelers — he didn’t fancy getting puked on in the middle of the night by someone who couldn’t find the loo.

Harry looked curiously around Ginny’s room. It was quite similar to the boys’ dormitories, but . . . softer somehow. He noticed a couple of vases of flowers on the desks and a decided absence of the smell of unwashed feet that had always seemed to permeate his old room. He stood awkwardly at the door as Ginny walked in and sat down on one of the beds.

“So,” she said, looking shyly at him.

“So,” he said back. He was surprised at how nervous he felt. How are we supposed to sleep together if I can’t even put my hand up her shirt?

As if reading his thoughts, Ginny patted the bed next to her. “Come on, Harry, this is supposed to be the easy part.”

“Right,” said Harry. He sat down next to her on the bed. Ginny’s shirt was untucked from her trousers, but just sticking his hand up underneath struck him as rather crude.

“Uhh, should we kiss first?” he asked.

“Okay,” said Ginny.

Harry leaned towards Ginny, trying not to touch any part of her in the process. She leaned too, and a second later their lips connected. Harry kept leaning a second longer, lost his balance, and fell against Ginny’s mouth until their teeth banged together.

“Sorry, sorry about that,” he gasped, grabbing her about the waist to steady himself.

“S’okay,” Ginny mumbled. Her face was still really close to his and instinctively, Harry leaned forward and kissed her again. He opened his mouth the slightest bit and experimented with dabbing his tongue against her lips. Ginny’s own lips parted and Harry felt her tongue dart out to touch his. It was then that he realized that the arm he had flung out to keep from falling was still around her waist, touching bare skin.

Well that’s convenient.

Slowly he inched his hand up Ginny’s side, waiting for her to stop him. She didn’t, and a moment later, he connected with the underside of her bra.

“Is this okay?” Please let it be okay.

“Yeah,” she said.

“Do you want to lay back?” Harry gestured to the pillows at the top of the bed.

In response, Ginny leaned back until she was mostly lying on the bed.

Harry looked down at her, contemplating. “I guess I should unbutton your shirt,”

“Yeah,” said Ginny again. She was watching him intently.

Harry blew out a breath and gave a shaky laugh. “Maybe we should have had a couple more shots of that Firewhisky first.”

Ginny sat up and reached to her bedside table. “I brought my glass,” she said, handing it to him.

Harry took a big drink and watched as Ginny did the same. The sight of smoke pouring out of her ears made him snort and suddenly everything was okay. He laughed and Ginny giggled back. “I didn’t think this would be so hard,” she said.

Harry nodded. “I know. But I do want to do this.”

“Good,” she said. “So do I.”

It was easier after that. Harry unbuttoned Ginny’s shirt and she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra (no way he would have been able to remove it himself — magically or otherwise), and Harry got his very first view of a witch’s breasts.

They were amazing. Harry stared at them, not quite believing that he was allowed to touch them. He reached his hand out slowly to give Ginny the chance to change her mind and then brushed his fingers lightly across one. When his thumb made contact Ginny shivered. Harry froze.

“Is this . . . right?”

“I think so . . . it feels right.” Ginny’s voice was lanquid.

Emboldened, Harry cupped one breast and then the other, testing their weight and feel in his hands. Truthfully, he’d never felt anything like them before. He experimented, kneading them between his fingers and noticing what Ginny seemed to especially like. She’d closed her eyes and her own hands were laying limply at her sides, but she continued to shiver as Harry explored and once, he thought maybe she’d bit back a soft moan.

Harry shifted on the bed next to her. He was surprised to realize that his trousers were starting to feel a bit tight; until now he hadn’t actually considered what he and Ginny were doing to be something that could lead to . . . one of those. He shifted again, trying to keep his growing arousal from touching Ginny without losing contact with her breasts.

“Are you okay?” Ginny murmured, her eyes still closed.

“Yeah,” Harry said, working to keep his voice normal. “I’m fine.” He took advantage of Ginny’s closed eyes to adjust himself in his trousers; the action brought only partial relief. He looked down at Ginny, considering.

Technically, they were finished, he supposed. They’d done what they had come up to her room to do - he could now say that he’d gone up a witch’s shirt (not that he was going to tell a soul), and Ginny could check this “first” off her list as well. Maybe they should just go back downstairs, find a bottle of whisky, and catch up with their friends.

That’s what we should do. I should tell Ginny she can button up her shirt now. Before Ron or someone finds us.

Instead, without really thinking about it, Harry leaned forward and flicked his tongue against her. Her skin was sweet and warm.

She jerked under him, her eyes opening in surprise. He froze as their gazes met — Harry was still at her chest looking up to where she was leaning back on her pillows. He’d moved so he was laying mostly on his stomach next to her, the lower part of his body pressing blessedly into the mattress.

With the greatest of effort, Harry pulled himself away. “Sorry. I . . . got carried away, I guess.”

“I don’t mind.” Ginny’s voice was soft. “It feels good.”

“Can I keep doing it?”

“Mmhmmm.” Ginny had closed her eyes again.

Harry leaned back down, intending to try opening his mouth a little wider and seeing how that felt, when a loud banging outside the door made him jump up in surprise.

“C’mon, ‘Mione, lessss go to your bed an’ shaaaag.” Ron’s voice was slurred, and extremely close.

“I don’ have a bed here Ronald. Not anymore.” Hermione sounded almost as drunk, but oddly muffled.

Harry and Ginny stared at each other for a second. A million thoughts ran through Harry’s mind in a jumbled mass as he listened to his two friends stumble closer to the door — button Ginny’s shirt . . . excuse, need an excuse . . . Merlin I hope they’re too drunk to notice . . . damn, what about my erection?

The last seemed to be taking care of itself; nothing like the fear of getting caught by your best friend while fondling his sister to kill arousal, Harry thought wryly. And Ginny had grabbed her wand and waved it at herself, magically fastening her shirt. It even tucked itself in for good measure.

“We were looking for your Quidditch playbook!” Harry whispered frantically at her and Ginny nodded and jumped up to rummage in her trunk as the door opened and Ron and Hermione stumbled in.

“. . . try that posi-shun Shay. . . Seamus tole ussa ‘bout,” Ron was saying to her. Hermione just giggled, her face flushed. Then she caught sight of Harry and Ginny. Her mouth opened in surprise.

“Oh!” she said. She tugged on Ron’s arm. “Ron, look. Harry ‘n Ginny are here.” She cocked her head. “Why’re you up here?”

Ron turned to look at them, his mind (the part that wasn’t too dulled by whisky) still clearly on what he was planning to do with his girlfriend. He stared at Harry and Ginny for a moment as if he wasn’t sure who they were.

Harry didn’t wait for Ron to try to figure things out. He grabbed Ginny’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “Did you find your playbook Gin?” Without waiting for an answer, he walked quickly towards the door, not looking at anyone.

“What the . . .?” Ron found his voice a moment too soon.

“Nothing, nothing’s going on,” said Harry hastily. “We’re just friends, you know. Nothing else. Ginny needed to show me something up here. Her playbook, I mean.”

Beside him, he heard Ginny chuckle. “Just shut up before you dig yourself a bigger hole, Harry,” she muttered.


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Chapter 4: Bludgers

Author's Notes: I didn't have to edit this chapter at all for SIYE. If you want to read the story in its unedited form, it's on fanfiction.net under the pen name mhersheybar


December 3, 1998

“Will you calm down, mate? I swear, you’d think you were on a broom yourself, the way you keep rocking back and forth.”

“Sorry,” said Harry sheepishly. He sat back down so that Ron could see past him to the game. The match had been going on for almost two hours and Gryffindor was leading Ravenclaw by only twenty points.

The Chasers circled around again, Ginny in the lead. One of her teammates passed her the Quaffle and it looked like she was going to score, but at the last minute a Bludger came out of nowhere, hitting her on the shoulder and almost knocking her off her broom.

“Ohhh,” sighed the crowd. A couple of people screamed as Ginny wobbled precariously for a moment before regaining her balance and streaking back towards the other goal in pursuit of the Ravenclaw Chaser who now had the Quaffle.

“Do you think she’s okay? Can you tell if she’s favoring her other arm?” Harry hadn’t realized he had jumped to his feet again until Ron tugged on his arm to pull him back down.

“I’m sure she’s fine, Harry. Look — she’s got the Quaffle again.” Ron elbowed him. “I’m going to tell Ginny that you were worrying about her worse than our mum.”

“I am not worrying,” said Harry. “It’s just . . . well, things look different from down here, as opposed to when you’re playing. And I just want to make sure she’s okay. She has that big test in Transfiguration on Monday, you know?”

“No, I don’t know,” said Ron. “I have enough trouble keeping our own testing schedule straight, thank you very much.” He grimaced. “I wonder if it’s too late to take up Fred and George’s offer to go work for them.”

“Just make sure I’m nowhere near your mum when you decide to tell her,” said Harry absently, his eyes again on Ginny as she streaked across the sky.

“Yeah well, if Ginny’s in the room at the time, you won’t notice anyway, will you?” asked Ron peckishly. “Cause you’ll be busy, I don’t know, making sure she doesn’t trip over a chair someone carelessly failed to push all the way under the table.”

“Uh huh,” muttered Harry, his mind fully on the action in the sky.

“You’re still coming out with the blokes afterwards, aren’t you mate?” Ron poked Harry in the side until he finally took his eyes off the game.

“What?”

“You, me, Neville, Seamus, Dean — remember? We’re all meeting at the Leaky. Seamus threatened to hex the first ‘nancy boy’ to give up and go home tonight.”

“Of course I’m coming,” said Harry. “I’ve been looking forward to it all week. Merlin knows I need as much of a break as you do from training.”

“Not to mention the work of running up to Hogwarts every month to teach,” added Hermione. She was sitting on Ron’s other side and had been watching Harry with an amused look on her face for most of the game.

“Nah, I haven’t minded teaching so much,” said Harry. “It’s a nice break, and I get to see Ginny.”

“When exactly did you become such good friends with my sister?” asked Ron, looking oddly at Harry for a moment.

“Uhh, the summer after our Second Year?” Harry rolled his eyes. “Where have you been? Tom Riddle, the Basilisk, the Chamber — remember? We couldn’t exactly share something as big as that without becoming friends.” He elbowed Ron. “And didn’t we have this same conversation a couple of years ago when I invited her to the Yule Ball?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you meant it then” retorted Ron. “I thought you just wanted to get out of asking a real girl.”

“Hey!” said Hermione indignantly. “Is that the reason you asked me?”

“Nah, he asked you because he knew you’d be a great shag someday,” said Harry with a smirk. He listened to his friends bluster at him for a minute and then turned his head back to the game.

“At least I’ve got someone to shag,” muttered Ron under his breath. “It’s never going to happen for you if you keep hanging out with my sister, mate.”

Giving another silent prayer of thanks that Ron was still completely oblivious, Harry just shrugged. That’s what you think.

A moment later, Ginny had the Quaffle under her arm and was almost at the Ravenclaw goal when a roar went up from the red and gold section of the crowd. The Gryffindor Seeker had finally caught the Snitch and most of the team began celebrating their win.

Ginny and the Ravenclaw Chaser and Beater racing after her were still unaware that the game was over. When the Beater hit a Bludger in Ginny’s direction, her own teammates were already landing and unable to stop the heavy ball from smashing into the back of her head.

Ginny fell forward against the front of her broom and only the quick thinking of the Ravenclaw players kept her from falling off. The Keeper shot forward and grabbed Ginny around the waist, pulling her onto his own broom with the help of the Beater, a horrified look on his face.
Harry was on his feet with his wand out to try to break Ginny’s fall before half the crowd realized what had happened. Next to him, Ron had stopped cheering over Gryffindor’s win and was snogging Hermione, completely oblivious to everyone around him.

It took three tries before Harry could finally make his friends realize what had happened. They raced down to the pitch, eyes on the sky as the Ravenclaw players landed awkwardly with their burden. Harry couldn’t tell if Ginny was conscious or not because of the crowd of Ravenclaw (and a few Gryffindor) players that had flown up to help.

“What exactly happened?” Ron asked as the trio pushed passed spectators clogging the stands.

“Late hit,” Harry said tersely.

Ron swore. “Those bloody bastards.”

“It was an accident,” amended Harry. “They didn’t realize the game was over and the Gryffindor Beaters were already on the ground.” The crowd was surging in their same direction and he craned his neck trying to see over them to the ground where Ginny was.

They finally made it out of the stands and to the grassy infield of the pitch. To Harry’s surprise, he could see Ginny sitting up, pressing a cloth to the back of her head and apparently talking to Madame Pomfrey, who was waving her wand over head.

Ron stopped. “She looks okay to me. Are you sure she got hit as hard as you said?”

“Yeah,” said Harry. “The Bludger really slammed into her.” They reached Ginny just as she was getting to her feet — a bit unsteadily, Harry thought — the rest of the Gryffindor team surrounding her.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she was saying, pushing away the arm that Jimmy Peakes was trying to wrap around her waist. Harry saw Madame Pomfrey sigh and put away her wand.

“Well that’s good to know,” said Ron. “Cause your brain’s cracked enough as it is.”

Ginny stuck out her tongue. “Prat. You’re just mad that I disarmed you in front of the class yesterday.”

Harry chuckled. “I thought you both got all of this out of your system yesterday, but if you’d like to continue your duel, I’m sure Ginny can disarm you again- this time in front of the entire school, Ron.”

Ron rounded on him. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I’m on the side of whoever looks better with their wand, and yesterday, it was Ginny.”

“Hmph,” said Ron peevishly. He looked more seriously at his sister. “You sure you’re okay? “

Ginny nodded. “Fine, Ron.” She glanced at Harry. “How did we look out there?”

Harry grinned. “Really good, actually. I liked seeing that new move you were telling me about in person. That over-under throwing method really works well.”

He and Ginny launched into a discussion about the finer points of the game as they walked towards the castle; it had been a long time since Harry had seen a Hogwarts Quidditch match and he realized how much he’d missed it. Hermione wandered off to talk to Luna. Ron interjected a couple of comments about the game and then began looking at his watch and clearing his throat.

“Uhh, Harry? We probably need to get going soon if we want to make it to the pub on time.”

Harry turned to Ron, looking at his own watch. “Merlin, I didn’t realize how late it was getting. Do you want to go into the castle and find a floo or leave the grounds and Apparate?”

Ron looked up towards the castle, then across the front lawn as if to gauge which method would require less walking. “Apparate, I guess. I always bump my head on the mantle at the Leaky.” He started to walk down the hill.

“That’s because you’re usually too pissed to stand up straight, Ron,” Harry called after him. “Hey, don’t you have a girlfriend you need to find and say goodbye to first?” He laughed as Ron froze mid-step and looked around before spotting Hermione with a knot of people near the path to the greenhouses.

“I swear, sometimes I think he forgets he has a girlfriend,” said Harry as he turned back to Ginny. He’d been planning to say a quick goodbye and then catch up with Ron down the hill, but the odd look on Ginny’s face made the words die in his throat. “Are you okay?” Ginny suddenly looked awfully pale.

Ginny put one hand to the side of her head and shuddered for a second, eyes closed. “I think so,” she said. “I just got a little dizzy for a second.” She opened her eyes. “I think maybe I’ll go lie down for a little while. Have fun at the pub.”

She took two steps forward and then stopped, swaying on her feet. Harry rushed forward and put his arm around her waist as she sagged into him. “Ginny!”

“I’m okay,” she mumbled. “Really, I just need to . . .”

The rest of her sentence was lost in a retch as she suddenly leaned away and vomited all over the ground in front of them. Harry gulped and automatically jumped back. Ginny retched again and then groaned, her hands on her head.

Doing his best to ignore the mess on the ground, Harry grabbed Ginny again, holding her up. “You need to go to the Hospital Wing,” he said firmly. He looked towards where Ron had gone but no one was around. The crowd from the match had all disappeared into the castle and the winter sun had almost dipped below the horizon. Deciding the situation wasn’t serious enough to conjure a Patronus, he tugged gently at Ginny. “Can you walk?”

Her eyes were closed again, but she opened them at his question. “If you help me,” she said weakly.

Slowly they made their way up to see Madame Pomfrey, who took one look at Ginny’s face and made a tutting sound with her tongue. “I told you that you needed to come up here,” she admonished. “Getting hit by a Bludger is not something to be trifled with.”

“She got hit twice, actually,” said Harry. “Once on the shoulder, earlier in the game.” He wanted to bite his words back as soon as he’d said them — Ginny hated the Hospital Wing as much as he did and wouldn’t want to stay longer so the Matron could check her shoulder too. But Ginny didn’t say anything, just sat heavily on the closest bed and closed her eyes again.

Madame Pomfrey bustled over and began waving her wand around Ginny, muttering spells. Ginny jerked and then sat up straighter. “That feels better,” she said. She started to get up. “Really, I’m fine.”

“Hmmm,” said the matron. “That’s what you said to me down at the pitch too. And look where it landed you.”

“I just got a little dizzy, that’s all,” said Ginny. “I’m fine now.”

“Ginny, you practically fainted outside, and then you threw up,” said Harry. He didn’t really care if she got mad at him — she was so stubborn sometimes. Conveniently ignoring the fact that he’d always tried to get out of the Hospital Wing as quickly as possible himself, he walked over to where Ginny was now standing and pushed her lightly back down onto the bed. “I think you should stay here and get some rest.”

“I can rest in my own room,” said Ginny petulantly, pushing his hand away and standing up again. “I’ll let you walk me back to Gryffindor Tower, if you insist. I just need a good nap.”

“Don’t go to sleep!” said Madame Pomfrey sharply. “Not with a head injury — not for 8 hours, at least. If you don’t have anyone to help keep you awake, you’ll need to stay here.”

“I’ll can do it, I’ll stay,” said Harry quickly. The words burst out before he could even think about it. Ron would probably hex him for missing the night out, but he couldn’t see any other option.

“Harry, don’t be ridiculous, you’re going out with my brother,” said Ginny. “He’ll never let you live it down if you give it up to babysit me.”

Harry shrugged. “What are friends for? Besides, I’ve already been vomited on by one Weasley today — I don’t need to deal with another. That’s Hermione’s job.”

“Harry . . .” began Ginny.

“Ginny really, it’s okay,” said Harry. To his surprise, he realized it was the truth. Yes, he had been looking forward to a night out, but really, he saw his mates at least as often as he got to see Ginny — more often probably. And she needed him right now.

She was still shaking her head — gingerly. “You and your ‘saving people’ thing,” she muttered. “Honestly, Harry, I’m not in danger and I know you were looking forward to going to the pub.”

“I was,” he admitted. “And you’re going to owe me a couple of pints once you’re better. Plus, I’ll expect you to take care of me next time I drink too much and help me hex your brother if he tries to take the mickey out of me for skipping out on him.”

“Wow Harry, next thing I know, you’ll be asking me to sleep with you or something,” said Ginny with a grin.

Harry was thankful that Madame Pomfrey had gone to the other side of the ward to get Ginny a potion. He leaned in close to Ginny’s ear anyway. “Two months, Weasley. Just don’t go getting hit by any more Bludgers in the meantime.”

“So you’re going to keep an eye on Miss Weasley for me?” Madame Pomfrey was back and handed Harry a corked bottle. “Have her take some of this every hour — it does the same thing as my spell. Contact me immediately if she faints or feels worse. And don’t let her fall asleep.”

“Yes ma’am,” said Harry solemnly. “I’ll do anything it takes to keep her awake.”

The matron raised her eyebrows. “I’ve been around students a long time, Potter. Let me strongly warn you against doing absolutely ‘anything’. It won’t do any good if you end up rolling over and going to sleep.”

Harry turned bright red. He wondered briefly if Madame Pomfey had a pair of extendable ears and had heard their earlier discussion. “Umm, right,” he muttered. He turned to Ginny and held out his arm. “Shall we?”

Ginny nodded and took his arm, leaning on him to walk, but much steadier than she had earlier. As they left the Hospital Wing, she said, “We should send Ron a Patronus so he doesn’t worry.” She stopped suddenly and Harry looked at her warily. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “But are you sure you want to do this? You really don’t have to, you know. I’m sure I could stay awake at the victory celebration or something.”

“Completely sure,” said Harry firmly. “We’ve only talked about the first half hour of the match today — there’s still a lot we have to discuss if Gryffindor has any hope of winning the Quidditch Cup.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Ginny stopped them again.

“Harry?”

“Hmmm?”

“If it was reversed, I’d stay with you.”

“I know.”





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Chapter 5: Christmas gifts

Author's Notes: I had to cut several more "detailed" bits from this to make it SIYE compliant, but I don't think the edits hurt the story too much. If you want to read the original story (warning, it's NC-17), visit ff.net, pen name mhersheybar


December 23, 1998

“. . . Neville was telling us a story about when he and Hannah Abbott were snogging in Greenhouse Five and one of those creeping digit plants actually managed to unhook her bra! So I was thinking we could develop . . .”

Ron broke off his story to the twins when Harry appeared in the Burrow’s kitchen. It was the day before Christmas and until ten minutes earlier, Harry hadn’t been certain he was going to make it at all. He’d been chosen to shadow a mission with several more senior Aurors, and their refusal to let a mere trainee take any responsibility during the actual investigation and capture of several escaped Death Eaters had not extended to their willingness to insist that Harry complete all the paperwork associated with the arrest.

He sighed when he saw the three youngest Weasley brothers sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle of Firewhisky. It had been three weeks, but Ron still hadn’t stopped harassing him about . . .

“Not that Harry here would know anything about that,” said Ron loudly, taking up his story again. ". . . since he decided that a night out with his mates was not as important as childminding ickle Ginnykins when she got a teeny tiny bump on her head.”

Harry rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut. He’d already explained himself several times and Ron still insisted on taking the mickey every opportunity he could.

“It was a lot more serious than that and you know it, Ronald,” said Ginny crossly, walking into the room. She’d been home for two days and had obviously been putting up with her brother’s teasing as well. “If Harry hadn’t stayed in my dorm and kept me awake I would have been stuck in the Hospital Wing by myself all night, talking to Madame Pomfrey.”

“How did he keep you awake, Ginnykins?” asked Fred with an air of innocence.

“That’s right,” agreed George. “Eight hours in the middle of the night on a witch’s bed is a long time not to sleep. Unless you’re doing . . . other things.”

The twins gave Harry identical leers and for the tenth time at least, Harry was thankful that none of Ginny’s brothers were any good at Legilimency.

“We talked about Quidditch,” said Harry honestly. It was true — they had talked about Quidditch, after they’d both gotten past the awkwardness of remembering what they had done the last time they’d been up in Ginny’s dorm room alone. Harry hadn’t even tried to touch Ginny — not injured the way she was — but he would have been lying if he’d said he wasn’t at least thinking about it. But then Ginny had laughed nervously and promised to keep her shirt on this time and Harry had chuckled back and turned around while she put on her pajamas and got into bed.

Talking had been remarkably easy. After going over the game they’d discussed Harry’s job with the Aurors and what Ginny wanted to do after she graduated, not to mention Ron and Hermione being together and the fact that Ron had seemed more and more disenchanted with the Aurors . . .

Which made Harry remember something.

“Hey,” he said, turning to Ron. “When I arrived, and you were telling Fred and George about Neville and the plant. You said something about “we developing” — did you mean you, Fred and George?”

Ron suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Well, uhh . . .” he began.

“Ron, are you quitting the Aurors?” asked Ginny loudly.

“Who’s quitting the Aurors?”

Ginny’s question had its intended effect — Mrs. Weasley came bustling into the kitchen, took one look at Ron, Fred, George and the bottle of whisky and raised her eyebrows. She sat down, picked up an empty glass, and poured herself a shot. “Start talking, boys.”

Harry took that opportunity to give Ginny a hug of welcome. “Thanks,” he mumbled into her hair as they watched her mum question Ron.

“No problem. It was as much about my own self-preservation as yours.”

“What time does Hermione get here?” asked Harry.

“In about an hour,” said Ginny. “She just needs to finish having her parents’ fireplace connected to the Floo here so they can all arrive for dinner.” She smirked at Harry. “Has my brother talked to you yet?”

“About what?”

“Sleeping arrangements,” said Ginny.

“Uh, no,” replied Harry. “I assumed I’d be up in his room like always, right?”

“Well,” said Ginny, “You’ll start the night there, and end it there, for sure. But in the middle . . . let’s just say that you’ll need to find somewhere else to bunk.”

Harry groaned. “Really? They can’t go without it for two days?”

“Apparently not. But it’s not all bad. You can come down and hang out with me, if you want. It’ll give me the opportunity to give you part of your Christmas present.”

“Aren’t you going to put it under the tree?” asked Harry. He was thinking of the gifts he’d gotten for Ginny — a pair of dragon-hide boots and a copy — obtained with extreme difficulty — of the Holyhead Harpies’ training manual (it was useful to be Harry Potter sometimes). Now that he thought about it, he probably should give her that second gift in private. He didn’t relish being the one to inform Ginny’s family that their only daughter was looking at a career playing professional Quidditch.

“Well, I’ll put one of them under the tree,” said Ginny. “The other . . . you should probably open in private.”

“Good idea,” said Harry. “I have one you should open in private too.”

“Hmmm,” said Ginny. “Tonight should be fun, then.”

“Uh huh,” agreed Harry.

****************************

The rest of the evening was immensely enjoyable. Hermione arrived with her parents and everyone trooped outside to have Christmas dinner surrounded by a number of warming plants that kept them all comfortable. There were jokes and toasts and Wizard crackers to pull and then before bed, everyone went into the living room to pile their gifts under the tree.

Ron had pulled Harry aside to work out “sleeping arrangements” and had finally stopped bugging Harry about missing bloke night when Harry threatened not to leave Ron’s room that later that night.

It was close to midnight when Harry finally snuck down the Burrow’s stairs to Ginny’s room carrying the wrapped Harpies’ manual. Hermione passed him on her way up, mumbling an embarrassed “thanks” as she went.

“No problem,” muttered Harry. “Just . . . stay off my bed.”

Harry didn’t bother to knock on Ginny’s half-opened door. He walked in and plopped down on Hermione’s camp bed and then looked at Ginny. He held out his gift and raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Well? Where’s mine?”

Ginny laughed. “Impatient, are we?” She took the package out of Harry’s hand. “Let me open this first. Mine isn’t something that’s so easy to wrap.”

She pulled the paper off the book, stared at it for a long moment, and then squeaked in excitement when she realized what it was.

“Harry! How did you get this? Is it the real one?” She started flipping through the pages of the manual, the grin on her face getting bigger as she read.

Harry grinned back. “It’s the real thing,” he said. “And I can’t tell you how I got it and you can’t tell anyone you have it. I put a charm on it so that to anyone else it just looks like your Gryffindor Quidditch playbook.”

“Oh Harry, it’s wonderful. “ Ginny moved over to the camp bed and gave him a big hug. He hugged her back for a minute and then pushed her away.

“Okay Weasley, my turn,” he said.

“Greedy, greedy, aren’t we?” asked Ginny.

“Yep,” said Harry. “I learned that from your brother.”

“Heh,” snorted Ginny. “Fair enough. Okay, here’s the thing. Like the present you gave me, you can’t tell anyone about the gift I’m about to give you, okay?”

“Sure,” said Harry. He looked around. “Where is it?”

In response, Ginny sat up and pointed her wand at the door and muttered a locking and silencing charm. The door closed with a squelching sound.

“Take off your pants.”

“What?????”

“I said, take off your pants. Or pajama bottoms, whatever.”

“I heard you the first time Ginny. “ Harry was confused. Not so confused that he was completely against the idea of taking off his pants, here, in Ginny’s room, with the door locked and silenced, but still . . .

“Uhh, why do I need to take off my pants? I thought we weren’t going to . . . you know . . . for another month.” He looked at Ginny. “Right?”

“Right,” agreed Ginny. She got up off the bed and knelt in front of him.

“But it occurred to me that there was one more thing we really should get out of the way first. Before we . . . you know.”

She put her hands on Harry’s hips, her fingers dropped inside the waistband of his pajama bottoms and suddenly Harry understood.

“You want to give me a . . . one of those? For Christmas?” he finished weakly.

Ginny was carefully not looking at his face. “Yep,” she said, nodding. She looked up. “Assuming you want one, of course.”

Harry’s brain might have been a step or two behind in this conversation, but several other parts of his body had already processed Ginny’s offer and were straining to reach out to her. She smirked at his crotch.

“Is that a yes?” Her fingers rubbed against the skin of his hips, underneath his pajamas.

“I’m not wearing any boxers.” Harry said the first thing that popped into his head.

“Well that will make things easier,” said Ginny. She looked up at him. “So?”

Despite her casual demeanor, Harry knew Ginny too well not to notice that she was nervous. He grabbed one of her hands out from his waist.

“Ginny, are you sure you want to?”

“I’m sure . . . if you want me to.”

She was nervous he was going to say no, Harry realized.

“Well of course I want you to,” responded Harry. “I’d be an idiot to turn that down from my best friend, wouldn’t I?”

Ginny was nodding, her hands back inside his pajama bottoms. She was stroking the sides of his hips lightly and Harry shuddered. “Well, as long as I’m the best friend you’re talking about,” she agreed. “And not Ron or Hermione, yes?” She raised her eyebrows.

“I just . . . didn’t expect . . . this,” Harry exhaled in a rush as Ginny tugged on his pajamas. He raised himself up off the bed far enough to slip the bottoms down to his ankles. She regarded him curiously for a moment, and then reached out to touch. Harry groaned and Ginny froze.

“Is that okay?”

“More than okay,” Harry mumbled. He was still not believing this was happening. He’d come down here completely innocently, for Merlin’s sake — to give Ron and Hermione time to shag, and now here he was, about to get his very first . . . wow. Christmas was really a wonderful thing.

Harry looked down at Ginny, who was biting her lip in concentration. Her lips looked awfully inviting suddenly. Without really thinking about it Harry leaned over and grabbed Ginny’s chin, lifting it up until he could reach her mouth with his.

Ginny kissed him back for a second and then stopped. A small smile played on her face. “What was that for?”

Harry shrugged. “I just wanted to.” He grinned. “Not that I meant to interrupt you or anything.”

Ginny grinned back. “Of course not.” She moved her hands back to him. “Is this too much?”

“No,” Harry grunted. “You can even . . . more . . . if you want.”

Ginny increased the pressure.

“Yeah,” Harry gasped. “Like that.”

He swallowed hard. At the rate she was going, he hoped he could hold on long enough — but it seemed rather greedy to ask her to move on to the actual act.

It didn’t matter. A second later Ginny had pushed up Harry’s t-shirt and flicked her tongue along his stomach, circling his belly button. His shirt fell over her head and Harry grabbed it and pulled it off. She looked up at him and smiled, and then started nibbling tiny kisses down the trail of hair on his stomach.

Harry had no idea what to do with his hands. He ran them through his own hair and then tentatively reached out and brushed the back of Ginny’s head. In response, she redoubled her efforts at his waist.

Harry groaned. “Oh Merlin,” he breathed. “Ginny . . . that feels . . . wow.”

It was unbelievable.

Once, in his Fourth Year, Ron and Harry had been part of a discussion with a number of older Gryffindor boys — the kind of discussion that only happens late at night and can’t quite be trusted for its truth. One Seventh Year had told them that if they put their hands in warm water and then wanked, it would feel like a witch’s mouth. Most of the other blokes — Harry included - had laughed at the idea. That hadn’t stopped Harry from secretly trying it one night. He’d ended up soaked from the waist down and having a lame wank.

He’d never admitted it to anyone, although by the way his dorm mates talked about that Seventh Year for the rest of the year — calling him a git on every possible occasion, Harry suspected he wasn’t alone in his attempts.

Now, Harry almost laughed to think that he’d ever tried to recreate the sensation himself. There was just no comparison.

Harry had fallen back against the pillows on the camp bed. He was making noises — he couldn’t stop saying something that sounded like “muh muh muh” — and he didn’t care. Ginny moved faster and suddenly Harry was there. With a groan, he grabbed at the blankets.

Looking rather pleased with herself, Ginny sat back on her heels and grinned.

“So I guess it was good?” she asked.

Harry felt like his entire body was full of sand. “Uh huh,” he mumbled. He took a breath. “It was amazing, Ginny. I never thought . . . I mean, I didn’t expect . . . I didn’t really know what to expect.”

“Better than wanking with a wet hand?” she asked with an amused voice.

Harry sat up — limbs protesting — and gaped at her. “How did you know about that?”

She giggled. “Fred and George were laughing about it. I guess it’s a joke that goes around the school every few years.”

Harry flushed. “Well this was a million times better.”

Ginny grinned.

Harry leaned back against the bed and then asked, “Was it . . . gross?”

“Not that bad,” said Ginny thoughtfully. “It was more . . . surprising, I guess. I mean, I knew you were getting close, but I wasn’t sure how close. Next time I’ll know.”

“N- n-n-next time?” Harry asked.

Now Ginny flushed. “Well maybe before . . . I thought we might . . . I mean, just in case it comes up.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will ‘come up’,” Harry joked. Ginny just groaned and rolled her eyes.

“So it was okay?”

Harry grabbed Ginny’s hands and pulled her up next to him on the camp bed. “More than okay, Ginny. Way more. It was . . . indescribable.”

“Well, good. I’m glad we got that out of the way, aren’t you?”

“Definitely,” murmured Harry. He was feeling extremely sleepy, and Ginny’s room was warm. It would be so easy to just lie back down on the camp bed and close his eyes . . .

And let Mrs. Weasley find him in the morning . . . Shite. Harry opened his eyes and pulled up his pajama bottoms. “I have to go.”

“Scared one of my brothers will find you here? Ginny asked with a smirk..

“No,” said Harry, grabbing his shirt. “Your mum. As much as she seems to like me, I don’t think it extends to sharing a room with her daughter.”

“But what if Ron and Hermione are still . . .?”

“Trust me,” said Harry, standing up. “Ron finished ages ago.”

At the doorway, he stopped. “Just for the record Ginny, I think your present was a lot better than mine.”

Ginny grinned. “For you, maybe. But I think the training manual is awesome. It’s perfect.”

Without thinking about it, Harry leaned over and kissed Ginny lightly on the lips. He smiled.
“Well then, it’s going to be a Happy Christmas for both of us.”

“Happy Christmas, Harry.”

**********************

Fifteen minutes later, having jerked Hermione awake with a Stinging Hex and sent her back downstairs, Harry was lying contentedly in his bed, mentally going over the finer points of Ginny’s gift.

Oh, who was he kidding? They were all finer points. The entire thing had been brilliant — truly brilliant. Part of the greatness was the fact that it had been a total surprise, but really, Ginny could have told him flat out a week ago what she was planning and Harry doubted he would have enjoyed it any less.

Harry almost giggled to himself even though blokes didn’t, strictly speaking, giggle. He felt giddy though — the lightness in him now as comfortable as the heaviness had been immediately after.

Ginny really was a very good friend. He was glad he’d pulled those strings to get her the playbook, she deserved it. It had been a good gift for her. He hoped she really did like it as much as he’d enjoyed her present. He hoped he’d conveyed to her just how much he’d appreciated what she had given him — done for him. He was excited to think that the only thing left for the two of them was to have actually sex. SEX! They’d done everything else, pretty much. Everything except. . .

Hell.

Harry sat straight up in bed. Because it had just occurred to him what he and Ginny hadn’t done, yet. Or, more precisely, what he hadn’t done. To her. He hadn’t done much of anything to her — or for her. Hell, he’d never even touched her below the waist, and she’d just given him . . . without even blinking.

And he’d laid there and accepted it with nothing more than a thanks. A big thanks, granted, and a kiss, but still.

He had to return the favor, somehow.

Harry was on the landing outside Ginny’s door, ready to go in, before he stopped to think about what he was about to do.

He thought maybe he needed a bit of a pep talk first. He wished he had looked closer at the sex book a bunch of the Gryffindor boys had been passing around his Sixth Year — he’d been too focused on Horcruxes and Malfoy and missing Sirius to pay attention to the ways to take care of a witch below the waist. He wasn’t even sure he knew what to do with his hands, let alone his mouth.

Some of his friends thought the entire concept was revolting. Terry Boot had called it an “acquired taste.” Seamus had said it was bloody fantastic.

Harry decided to believe Seamus.

Another Stinging Hex later, Hermione — quite cranky by now — was on her way back up to Ron’s room so that Harry could have an “extremely important” discussion with Ginny about the fact that he’d “forgotten to get her parents a Christmas present.”

“You really need to make better lists, Harry,” Hermione said sleepily as she left.

Ginny was watching him curiously the entire time Harry was rushing Hermione out of the room. She didn’t say anything when he closed the door and reapplied the locking and silencing charms, or when he sat down at the end of her bed.

“So,” said Harry.

Ginny raised her eyebrows. “So.”

“Uhh, take off your pants.”

Ginny snorted. “What?!?”

Harry forced himself to look her in the eye and hoped the room was dark enough that she couldn’t see his blush. “Well, it occurred to me, about ten minutes ago, that there’s one more thing you and I need to do before we . . . you know, next month.”

Even in the rather dim light of Ginny’s room, he could see her eyes open wide with understanding. “You mean you want to . . . down there?”

“Well, yeah,” said Harry. “I mean, you did, to me. It’s only fair that I do it back to you, right?”

“Right,” said Ginny faintly. She sat up straighter. “Wait. Are you talking about with your hand or with your . . . mouth?”

“Uhhh, both, I think.”

“Wow,” said Ginny. “Harry you really don’t have to — I mean, I didn’t give you oral sex just so you could give me oral sex. You got me the Harpies’ training manual, for Merlin’s sake.”

Harry was nodding. “I know, Ginny. But I want to try. It might not even work — I’ve never done it before, you know.”

“Well, that’s kind of the point to all this, isn’t it?”

Harry smirked. “Yeah. That, and the opportunity to annoy Hermione by waking her up with a bunch of Stinging Hexes.”

“Eh, I’m sure she’ll forgive you eventually.”

“Especially if she and Ron are shagging again.”

“Right.”

“Uhh, Ginny?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you going to take off your pants?”

***************

Afterwards, Harry lay back on the camp bed and grinned at Ginny. She grinned back.

“Feeling pretty proud of yourself, aren’t you, Potter?”

Harry nodded. “Yep. How are you feeling, Ginny?”

“Pretty wonderful and relaxed,” admitted Ginny with a big yawn. “I can’t believe you got me to . . . twice.”

“I can’t believe there’s not a single person on this planet I can brag about it to,” said Harry.

“Harry . . .”

“Sorry, Ginny. I just didn’t expect to like it so much.”

“Heh, you liked it all over my bed.”

“Hey, I cleaned it up!” Harry swatted her with his pillow. Ginny yawned again.

“I guess that’s my cue to go antagonize Hermione again.”

“Wait, Harry,” said Ginny. She was sitting up, looking at him seriously.

“Is something wrong?” Harry sat up too. Ginny shook her head.

“No. Nothing’s wrong. It’s just . . . it isn’t . . . what we’re doing - it’s not weird, is it? That we’re using each other to get experience?”

Harry shook his head firmly. He’d begun thinking about it more ever since Ginny had gotten hit with the Bludger and he wanted to make himself clear. “No Ginny, I don’t think it’s weird at all. If we were just using each other for sex, we’d have shagged last summer and probably never spoken again. It’s totally different with us.”

Ginny nodded. “I know it’s different,” she said. “I feel totally comfortable with you — doing these things, joking about them — and then going back to being your friend.”

“Best friend,” said Harry firmly. “Right up there with Ron. Possibly a little past Hermione even, not that I suggest you tell her that.”

“She’s already mad enough about the Stinging Hexes anyway,” agreed Ginny.

“Yeah,” agreed Harry. He looked at her carefully. “Ginny, we don’t have to go through with the rest of it if it makes you uncomfortable. I love you way too much for that — it’s not worth ruining our friendship over a shag.”

“I know,” said Ginny. “And that’s why I’m totally okay doing it. Because I love you that much too — and I know it won’t be weird because we won’t let it.”

Harry nodded firmly. “Exactly.”

He got up to go. “But now I really think we need to actually go to bed.”

He leaned over and gave Ginny another light kiss before walking to the door. “’Night, Ginny.”

“’Night, Harry.”


Back to index


Chapter 6: Backtracking

Author's Notes: This chapter is almost identical to the one posted at ff.net. Enjoy!


January 17, 1999

“Oh Merlin, right there . . . Right . . . There . . .”

What the?

“That . . . feels . . . so . . . good . . . God, I love when you use your tongue like that.”

Bloody Hell!

“Do you want me to go lower?”

“Ohhh, yes. Lower. Put your mouth on my . . .”

Silencing charm . . . where the hell’s the Silencing Charm?

“I’m gonna . . . oh Merlin . . . I’m gonna . . .”

Gotta get out of here.

“Not yet, I’m almost there . . . hold on . . . I’m almost . . . ”

“Harry?”

Ginny?

Harry jerked his head towards the Floo. Ginny’s head was floating in the flames, a concerned look on her face.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen something horrible.”

“Heard something, more like it,” Harry muttered. He didn’t have to explain more. Just then Hermione’s voice echoed across the flat, so loudly that even Ginny couldn’t miss hearing it.

“Yes Ron, Yes!”

Ron’s mingled groan of pleasure was not quite as loud, but still distinct. Ginny’s face reflected understanding and amusement, mingled with a little disgust. She finally settled on a grimace of sympathy for Harry, sitting in his own flat and having to listen to his two best mates going at it like bunnies.

“No Silencing Charm, then?”

“They apparently forgot it. Again.”

“How long have you been home?”

“Too long — about 20 seconds.”

“Why don’t you come here?”

“There? Are you at Hogwarts? “ Does it really matter? “ Yes, I’m coming through.”

Harry grabbed some Floo powder, threw himself into the fireplace, and yelled “Gryffindor Common Room” before Ginny could even answer. While various wizarding rooms spun past him he realized he wasn’t sure that’s where she was. It hadn’t even occurred to him to ask why she was Flooing him at 10 pm on a Sunday night — he’d been so relieved to have an excuse to get out of his flat.

A minute later he fell out of the Floo onto the familiar red and gold carpeting.

“Yes, I’m at Hogwarts, in the Common Room, actually.” Ginny’s voice was amused.

Harry peered up at her. “Guess I was a little eager to get out of there,” he said sheepishly.

“I don’t blame you,” said Ginny. “It’d be almost enough to turn me off sex forever, overhearing that.”

“What? You . . . forever? Really?” Harry was about to start listing all the reasons that Ginny most certainly should not swear off sex forever until he saw her grin.

“Just kidding, Harry. How can I swear off something I’ve not even had yet?”

“Right,” said Harry, standing up. “Good.” He looked around. “Why’s it so quiet?” The Common Room, which would ordinarily be full of chattering students on a Sunday night, was nearly empty.

“McGonagall extended curfew,” said Ginny. “There’s some confluence of the planets that only occurs once every 500 years. Most of the students are out on the lawn with Professor Sinistra.”

“Why aren’t you there too? And why were you Flooing me? Is something wrong?” Harry was finally past the immediate relief of having escaped and able to realize how odd it was that Ginny had contacted him at all. They’d seen each other only once since Christmas — in class. Harry had come to the castle for a lecture but Auror duties had required him to leave almost immediately afterwards. He hadn’t had time for anything more than a quick hug and the monthly exchange of promises — still unfulfilled - to write each other.

“No, everything’s fine,” said Ginny. “You left your lecture notes in class the other day and I wanted to make sure you got them back — I didn’t know if they were important.”

“They weren’t,” said Harry. “But your timing was impeccable.”

Ginny grinned. “Glad to help.” She looked around the Common Room. “So, uh, do you want to hang out here for a while? Until things quiet down at your flat?”

“Don’t you need to go watch the planets too?”

Ginny shrugged and plopped down on the nearest sofa. “Probably.”

“Well as long as we know where your priorities lie,” said Harry. He sat down next to her. “So,” he said.

“So,” Ginny replied. She was looking at him with a small smile on her face and suddenly Harry was acutely aware that the last time the two of them had been alone together, Ginny had been giving him a “Christmas present.”.

No, that wasn’t exactly right, he amended to himself. The second-to-last time they’d been alone together had been the present from Ginny. The very last time, he’d returned the favor. He flushed and wondered if Ginny knew what he what he was thinking.

“So how does your wand like its holder?”

“Huh?” Harry almost slipped off the sofa.

“Your Christmas gift, Harry. Have you even used the wand holder I gave you?”

“Oh,” he said, flushing even more. That wasn’t what he thought she’d meant. “Yeah, I love it, see?” He raised the bottom of his jumper so that Ginny could see the dragon hide wand holder strapped to his waist. “It’s great,” he said.

“Good,” said Ginny.

“Er, have you had a chance to use the practice Quaffle? “ In addition to the Harpies’ playbook, Harry had given Ginny a Quaffle that could be used by a single person flying alone — it returned after each throw towards the goal.

“It’s been too cold,” said Ginny. “But I can’t wait.”

She leaned her head back against the sofa and closed her eyes. Harry relaxed too — he really loved being back at Hogwarts. Especially with Ron and Hermione being as . . . wrapped up in each other as they were these days. Sometimes it was still the same between the three of them as it has always been — joking, talking, Ron and Harry giving Hermione a hard time about her crazy work ethic — the usual.

At other times, Harry tended to wish he knew how to self-Obliviate himself. During those times - like now - Harry was especially grateful to have Ginny for a friend. Where else would he be able to hide out — hang out — late on a Sunday night? There were very few people who’d let him barge into their home and life at all hours because his best mates were shagging.

Luckily, Ginny was one of those few.

“I loved your other gift too,” he said slyly. He scooted closer to Ginny on the sofa and leaned his head on her shoulder.

“I’m glad,” said Ginny, eyes still closed. “But you aren’t getting another one of those any time soon, so stop sucking up.”

“I wasn’t . . . I didn’t mean . . . that’s not why I came here!” said Harry. He was only mildly indignant; it had crossed his mind. He sat up. “And what do you mean, not any time soon? If my calculations are correct, we’ve only got about two weeks until we . . . you know. I mean, if you still want to do it.” He paused. “Do you?”

“You know I do, Harry. It would be kind of silly for us to have come this far and just back out now, right?”

“Right,” said Harry firmly.

“So you’ll just have to wait a bit,” said Ginny simply.

“Okay,” sighed Harry. Ginny smirked.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m waiting too, you know.”

“Maybe a little better,” he said. He wanted to ask her if she meant he’d be getting another “present” along with the sex, but that seemed rather presumptuous of their agreement, he supposed.

“Ginny?”

“Hmmm?”

“Never mind.” Harry decided at the last minute not to ask the other question that had just occurred to him.

“What?”

“Really, it’s nothing.”

Ginny sat up and turned so that she was looking at Harry. She took his face in her hands so he couldn’t look away. “Tell me.”

Harry sighed. “I was just wondering . . .”

“Yes?”

“I was wondering . . . what we’re going to do after we have sex?”

“After?”

“Well, yeah,” said Harry. “Like, the next day or the next week. Once we get our first times out of the way, are we just going to . . . stop?”

“Stop having sex, you mean?”

“Uh huh.”

“Oh,” said Ginny. “I hadn’t really thought about it.” She frowned. “Do you think it would be kind of . . . weird, if we kept having sex? I mean, isn’t the point of this whole agreement to get it out of the way, like we did with kissing and drinking and touching and . . . other things?” She spoke quietly, looking down at her hands as she talked, and Harry picked up on the hesitance in her voice.

“Well,” he said. “I think it’s more than just ‘getting it over with’, don’t you? I think either of us could have done any of those things you mentioned a long time ago, if we didn’t care who we did them with.” He grabbed her hand. “I want to do them with you, Ginny.”

“But just because you don’t have anyone else you’d rather be with, and you want to get it over with,” Ginny said. From the tone of her voice, Harry felt like she was reciting a school lesson — reminding them both of something they’d learned once and then forgotten.

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “You too though — you want to get it over with as much as I do, and you were the one who suggested waiting only six months, remember?”

“Yes Harry, I remember,” said Ginny peevishly. Harry wasn’t sure what was wrong. One thing he had learned in all his years of being friends with Ginny though, was that it would do no good to ignore it.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Ginny looked mulishly at him for a moment and then suddenly her face relaxed and a wry grin crept across it. “Nothing,” she said. “I just got cold feet or something for a second.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. That wasn’t all and they both knew it. He kept quiet and a second later Ginny huffed at him.

“Okay, fine. Part of me was wondering if I was stupid to have rushed all this — or if I, I mean if each of us — should actually wait until we find someone we’re in love with.” She scrunched her face at him and looked sheepish. “Does that make sense or are you thinking I’m a complete prat for leading you on and then talking about changing my mind?”

Harry was quiet for a minute, gathering his thoughts. Truth was, he hadn’t really given much thought to what sleeping with Ginny meant — at least not in the way he suspected witches might. He’d seen enough covers of Witch Weekly to know that relationships and finding “the one” were a pretty big deal, but since the Cho debacle two years ago, Harry hadn’t thought much about finding a witch to fancy — or being in love.

“You aren’t a prat at all,” he said. “I guess it makes sense. To wait. I think that’s what I meant when I asked you what we were going to do after. Maybe we didn’t think all this out so well. “ He paused and considered Ginny. She was nodding slightly, her face a mixture of relief and . . . something else Harry couldn’t identify. “It’s a big deal for witches, isn’t it? Bigger than for most blokes, I’d imagine.”

“Yeah, it is,” Ginny agreed. “I’d always heard that, but never really thought about it before.” She smiled, a little sadly. “I’m sorry, Harry.”

“Don’t be,” he said firmly. “Truth is, it’s probably a bigger deal for me too. I just never thought about it that way before.”

“Yeah,” said Ginny. She looked at him, a slight smirk on her face. “That’s not to say that in another six months, or a year from now, I might not be feeling desperate or something.”

Harry grinned back and threw his arm around her shoulder. “You know I’d do anything for you Ginny — just name the time and place.”

Ginny nodded. “I know Harry. And the same goes for me, even if I just took away your chance to lose your virginity.”

“It was the right thing to do,” he said, and believed it. People shouldn’t go around shagging their best friends just to get it over with. Ginny was right. “Of course, I might feel differently next time I’m forced to overhear Ron and Hermione,” he said.

“You can always come hang out with me, okay?”

“Deal.”

Back to index


Chapter 7: The Date

Author's Notes: It was kindly pointed out to me that it had been too long since I updated this. Enjoy!


January 21, 1999 Ginny hitched her bag over her shoulder and hurried down the corridor towards the DADA classroom. Her brother and Hermione were going to be lecturing and she was hoping to get to class early enough to give them a quick but pointed reminder about the importance of silencing charms. As much as she’d loved having Harry hang out with her in the Common Room the previous Sunday, the poor boy had looked absolutely exhausted by the time he decided it was safe to go back to his flat.

And given their decision not to go through with the sex pact, she didn’t think he would survive another night of listening to her brother and Hermione get it on. Even though she had been the one to bring it up, Ginny wasn’t sure exactly why she had changed her mind. For one brief minute she had been struck with the oddness of the two of them sleeping together — as if it were no more than him helping her learn a new Quidditch move or something.

It hadn’t seemed like a big deal before, when they’d done . . . all the other things they’d done together. It had been easy to joke about first kisses and getting drunk — she was too comfortable with Harry for it to ever be awkward. Even Christmas, even after they’d given each other their “presents”, nothing was different. They’d exchanged their public gifts the next day with her family and talked and laughed about school and the Aurors and the fact that Ron had finally gotten up the nerve to announce he was going into business with Fred and George. It hadn’t even mattered that the subject of the pact or what they had done in Ginny’s room hadn’t come up again. And then she had to go and mess things up.

Ginny sighed. She had probably been reading too much Witch Weekly — she seemed to remember seeing a story on the latest issue on Demelza’s bed, How to Know if He’s The One, or something like that. Now it was too late. What was she going to do, send Harry an owl at work saying whoops, changed my mind again, are you free next Sunday for a shag after all? She didn’t think so.

Although maybe she should try to talk to him anyway, she thought. At least to find out if he was also having second thoughts about . . . her second thoughts. Really, it wasn’t like actual sex was that much different than oral sex, and they’d gotten past that just fine. Yes, she would talk to him as soon as she could. They were best friends — why shouldn’t she?

She was mentally deciding whether to try Flooing Harry again or if a letter might be better this time when she got to the DADA classroom. Apparently her rushing had worked; Ron and Hermione were the only ones there and by the looks of things Ginny had either interrupted them snogging or fighting. Probably both, she thought to herself. Harry really put up with a lot with those two. The least she could do was try to help him out.

“Hey,” she said, smirking at the way they jumped apart. Ron wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Oh, hey Gin,” he said. “Hermione and I were just preparing for our lecture.”

“Right,” said Ginny. “So we’re going to practice what to do if we suddenly get attacked by a Dark Wizard who wants to kiss us to death?”

Ron and Hermione turned bright red.

“Protective charms,” said Hermione firmly, ignoring Ginny. “Like the wards we learned to set while we were on the Horcrux hunt.”

“Oh, of course,” said Ginny. “Protective charms.” She pretended to think. “Do the two of you really think you’re qualified to lecture on them?”

“What do you mean?” asked Hermione. “We spent a year on the run and our wards never failed us.”

“True,” said Ginny. “You were all really careful about setting Silencing and Privacy charms during the Horcrux hunt. Too bad it didn’t carry over to your real life, like say, when you’re shagging each other in the flat Ron shares with Harry.” She raised her eyebrows, enjoying a bit too much the way the two of them flinched and looked embarrassed.

“When did we . . .?” Hermione began weakly.

“Last Sunday night,” said Ginny primly. “Poor Harry came home exhausted from an emergency at work and he couldn’t even stand to be in the flat with the two of you.”

Ron and Hermione looked at each other. “We were trying out that book you’d picked up in . . .” Ron muttered.

“Oh, right,” Hermione interrupted him. “Yes. Well. We’ll be more careful from now on.”

“We may not have to,” Ron smirked, “if Harry’s date next week goes well. I hear she’s hot.”

Ginny felt like she’d been punched in the gut. “Date?” she asked weakly.

Students were starting to trickle into the classroom. A couple of them called out greetings but Ginny barely heard them. Harry’s going on a date? With a hot witch?

“How? Who?” she asked.

“Skylar Marks,” Ron said. He looked to be about to say more, but Fleur came in then, ending all the chatter.

Ginny had to take her seat, but her mind was spinning. Skylar Marks?

Skylar Marks was Ginny’s age. She was in Ravenclaw, or had been in Ravenclaw, through the end of Fourth Year. After the Department of Mysteries debacle alerted everyone that Voldemort had returned, Skye hadn’t come back to school. The story was that her parents (pure bloods, both) didn’t want her getting hurt and were teaching her at home. Ginny didn’t know her that well — Skye hadn’t been in the D.A. and seemed to spend a lot of time in the library.

But Ron was right about one thing — Skylar Marks was very pretty. She had thick dark hair and blue-gray eyes and perfect teeth and a nice figure and pretty soon, Ginny started feeling rather sick, thinking about Harry, going on a date with beautiful, perfect Skylar Marks.

Why did it matter? He could go out with anyone he wanted — Ginny certainly didn’t have any sort of claim on him. So what if she’d been about to owl him to ask if he wanted to reinstitute their pact?

Ginny couldn’t figure out how to get rid of the lump that was suddenly in her throat. It had just occurred to her that even if she hadn’t suggested they cancel their agreement, Harry’s going on a date changed everything. They had only planned to sleep together if neither of them were with someone else. And now look what happened.

Harry had a date. With Skylar Marks. He’d probably fall in love with her, Ginny thought dourly. Skye had never struck Ginny as the type to fawn all over a bloke just because he was famous — Harry would probably think she was refreshing or something. And she kept a very low profile — Harry would love that. No danger following them around, no fawning all over him just because of his name, just the two of them, hanging out, talking, kissing . . . She put her head down on her desk, wishing she could stop thinking about the . . .

“. . . danger in the Skye?” Ginny’s head jerked up. Had she said that out loud? She looked around. “Huh?”

“Ginny,” said Fleur patiently. “Can you give ze’ class an example of a spell that would protect from a danger in ze’ sky?”

“Oh,” said Ginny stupidly. “Right.” She gave the answer and then tuned out again.

Why was this bothering her so much? Because Harry was going on a date? He was her best friend — she should be happy for him. Now he didn’t have to worry about their silly (and canceled) pact. Now he had the chance to fall in love with someone else.

Someone else?

Ginny stifled a groan. The truth was staring her in the face and she didn’t even bother trying to deny it. She was jealous. Jealous of Skylar Marks, going out on a date with Harry.

And why are you jealous, Ginevra?

The voice sounded like a combination of Fleur and Hermione, which was not surprising, since the two of them were still lecturing the class.

Ginny knew the answer to this one too. She was jealous because she wanted to go out on a date with Harry. Bugger Skylar Marks.

Hermione was giving her a sharp look and for a second Ginny was afraid she’d spoken out loud. But it was just that the class was getting up to practice their protective charms and Ginny was still in her seat. She jumped t o her feet and got in line to demonstrate; all the while her mind was whirling.

She fancied Harry. No, it was more than that. “Fancy” meant a girl who mooned over a bloke she didn’t know that well, but wanted to. Witches (and wizards, for that matter) acted like idiots around someone they fancied. You couldn’t just hang out and talk with someone you fancied — you were too busy trying to get them to notice you and like you.

That didn’t describe how she felt about Harry at all. She already knew him almost as well as she knew herself. She certainly didn’t act like a bumbling, stammering idiot around him anymore — hadn’t since she was a First Year.

Did she love him?

Her thoughts were interrupted — yet again — when she reached the front of the line and had to demonstrate several privacy spells. She did them perfectly, which was no surprise, since Harry had taught them to her last summer. After the Final Battle he’d made a brief attempt to withdraw into himself, but she’d had none of it. She’d talked to him and teased him and — finally — listened to him when he began talking.

He’d opened up to her a lot, she realized. They’d spent hours together, some of the happiest hours Ginny could ever remember. Truth was, she loved spending time with Harry. Even more truth was, she loved Harry. And she hadn’t suspected a thing.

When class ended, Ginny stomped out of the classroom without even saying goodbye to Ron and Hermione.

***********************

Harry sighed at the pile of half-finished reports on his desk. Part of being an Auror trainee meant that, in addition to following the more senior Aurors around, he got stuck with the majority of the paperwork. And he didn’t have hours to sit at his desk tonight getting things finished. Tonight, he had a date.

He still wasn’t quite sure how it had come about. He’d been talking with Galena Rhodes, the senior Auror on his team, about the team’s caseload and how busy they all were. Harry liked Galena a lot — she was assured in the field, bright and hardworking. She never let the fact that she had a family get in the way of her work, and she never let her work get in the way of her family. Harry sometimes thought she considered him more like another of her sons and so when she joked casually about the fact that Harry never made time for dating, he hadn’t been insulted.

“Eh, I just haven’t found the perfect girl yet,” he had answered. “You know, that rare witch who wants to date me for me, and not so she can run to all her friends and brag that she knows what Harry Potter likes to order at restaurants.”

At that, the head of the Auror Department, Devon Marks had stuck his head around the doorway of Harry’s cubicle and “suggested” that Harry take out his niece Skylar. Devon had mentioned that it would probably be a good match for a number of reasons, but he hadn’t elaborated on what those reasons might be. It hadn’t escaped Harry’s notice that Galena had raised her eyebrows at Devon’s comments, but as it wasn’t Harry’s place to question his boss, he’d simply agreed to the date.

At least it gets me out of paperwork for the evening.

Harry hadn’t thought much about the date, beyond asking Hermione for a restaurant suggestion and enduring ten minutes of Ron gushing about how good-looking Skylar Marks was. He’d spoken to her by Floo once — Ron was right, he supposed, Skylar was attractive — and had been relieved that she hadn’t gushed or seemed at all in awe of him.

And now they were going to be spending an entire evening together at a nice, out-of-the-way Muggle restaurant Hermione had suggested, and then at a jazz club in Diagon Alley. It felt kind of weird actually, going out on a date with a witch he didn’t even know and for the first time he wondered exactly what he had gotten himself into.

Gathering his papers together before locking them in his desk, it occurred to Harry that this was the first real date he’d had since Cho. (Or, as Ginny had begun calling her after that Hogsmeade weekend, Cho Bloody Chang). He grimaced to himself. Hopefully tonight would go better than that date had gone. He didn’t fancy having Skylar Marks either crying all over him or getting up in the middle of the date and storming out because she thought he was interested in another girl.

As he walked down the hall of the Aurors’ offices wearing his traveling cloak more than one head looked up. It wasn’t often that one of the trainees left for the evening before the more senior Aurors. He saw two of his fellow trainees whispering together and was certain he heard the word “Skye” as he walked past. A couple of other Aurors gave him a thumbs up and Galena came out and straightened the collar of his robes under his cloak. “Have fun,” she said. She looked like she wanted to say more but instead just tugged at his collar again.

Harry had to endure a bit of back-slapping from Devon before he finally escaped the office but finally he was at the Apparition point, mentally going over the location of Skylar’s flat. She lived in a fancy building that could be entered either from Diagon Alley or the Muggle street.

I should have just met her at the restaurant, Harry thought to himself as he took the lift up to her flat. He really had no desire to endure a tour of the flat or gawking from roommates, but it was too late to worry about that now.

But Skylar lived alone and met him at the door holding two glasses of wine “to help get over the blind date awkwardness” she said.

Harry took the wine gratefully and felt himself relax a fraction. He could do this.

His first impression of Skye felt familiar; she reminded him a bit of Hermione, if she took the time every day to straighten her hair and put on makeup and wear form-fitting clothes. Even the apartment looked like a place Hermione would feel comfortable in — there was a wall of books in the sitting room to Harry’s right, and a desk covered in neatly stacked papers and rolls of parchment.

“Nice flat,” he said, walking over to the windows. There was a wonderful view of London from a perspective Harry had never seen before. “I like the view.”

“Thank you, “ she said. “I’ve lived here a year and still haven’t gotten tired of looking out the window. She took Harry’s empty wine glass. “Do you want more, or do we need to leave?”

Harry looked at his watch. “We should probably go. It’s a Muggle restaurant so we’ll need to take a taxi.”

“A Muggle restaurant,” said Skylar. “How charming.”

Skylar sounded enthusiastic, but Harry couldn’t help but feel there was an undercurrent of . . . something in her tone. He brushed it off. Maybe she didn’t eat in Muggle London often.

He took her cloak when she picked it up off a chair and held it while she slipped it on. She smiled at him and let him hold open the door to her flat as they left.

Yes, he could do this.

************************

Later, during the few times he ever talked about the date with Skye, Harry always divided it into three parts: before, during and after. Before was filled with small talk, hearing about how she’d been home-schooled her final three years and graduated early, how she didn’t really like Quidditch. Before was fine. A little boring, perhaps, definitely nothing special, but fine. The best part of Before, Harry always liked to say, was the two minutes Skye had spent talking about what she remembered of Harry’s good friend, her former classmate Ginny Weasley.

During still made him see red. Harry was surprised even now that he hadn’t tried to hex Skye right there in the restaurant, forget the Statute of Secrecy. During made him understand why Galena had raised her eyebrows when she heard that Harry was going on a date with Skylar Marks. During was when Skye had basically told Harry that she couldn’t understand how anyone could have risked their life for others during the War — that if it had been her with a Prophecy over her head, she’d be living in France right now, under an assumed name. During was when Ginny’s face had suddenly flashed through Harry’s mind and he had realized that the last place he wanted to be was on a date with anyone who wasn’t her.

And After . . . after was when he stopped trying to be polite, when he had stopped the date, and started trying to make everything right.

Back to index


Chapter 8: Pillow Talk

Author's Notes: This is the final chapter that will be posted at SIYE; as it is, I had to cut the majority of Harry's POV. If you want to read the unedited version as well as a bonus chapter, you can check it out at ff.net, under the pen name mhersheybar. Enjoy!


Harry was fairly positive that the Portkeys to Hogwarts he and the other guest lecturers had been given to get to the castle were absolutely not supposed to be used in the middle of the night. Particularly since he wasn’t due back at the school for another two weeks.

He didn’t really care about the rules, though. Ten minutes after dropping Skye off at her flat Harry was back at his own, shrugging out of his robes and putting on comfortable clothes. Fifteen more minutes and he was in Ginny’s dark and quiet dorm room — all of its occupants thankfully asleep.

He crossed over to Ginny’s bed and looked down at her; she was wearing only an oversized t-shirt and was sleeping scrunched in a ball on her side, hugging a pillow. She had kicked off most of her blankets.

Harry pulled the hangings around her bed and then sat down, putting his hand on her exposed hip. Either his hand was cold or Ginny hadn’t been sleeping very deeply because she immediately startled. Her eyes flew open and she half jumped, half scooted into a sitting position on the corner of the bed, her arms wrapped around her knees and her eyes big and wary.

It crossed Harry’s mind then that this was not the first time Ginny had been awoken in her dorm in the middle of the night and his heart broke a little when he thought about her at school the previous year.

“Ginny, it’s me,” he whispered, even though the silencing charms and wards he had set in the room would keep her roommates from hearing them.

In the moonlight, he could see the way her face reflect relief and then confusion. “Harry?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you . . . why aren’t you on your date?”

Harry was surprised. He’d been prepared to blurt out his feelings — the words “I’m crazy about you” kept running through his brain — but Ginny’s question derailed his thoughts. He struggled to compose himself. Probably not a good idea to blurt that anyway — she might actually think I* am* crazy. “How did you know about that?”

Ginny shrugged. “Ron and Hemione.” She was quiet for a moment, looking down at her comforter. “Skye’s really pretty, isn’t she? Where did you take her?”

Harry automatically opened his mouth to tell Ginny about his date but then stopped himself. He may no longer be in blurting mode, but that didn’t mean he had any desire to sit and relive his date with Ginny as if she was no more than his good friend.

She doesn’t know you think of her as more than a friend, a little voice inside his head said. “Right,” Harry said out loud. “Er . . .” he struggled to figure out how to say it.

“Are you going to see her again?”

When Ginny spoke, there was something in her voice that made Harry pause. It was even and quiet, totally lacking the teasing Ginny usually adopted when she asked Harry about him and some witch. She sounded . . . resigned, and in a flash, Harry understood. All his nervousness about what to say — about what Ginny was going to think - melted away, and he couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he answered her.

“I didn’t practically break into Hogwarts in the middle of the night to tell you about my disastrous date, Ginny.”

He was right -a hint of a smile flashed across her face. “Disastrous?”

Harry scooted closer to Ginny until they were sitting side by side on the bed. “The worst,” he said. “Even if she hadn’t thought I was mental for fighting in the War instead of hiding like she did, it would have been an awful date.” He took Ginny’s hand. “She wasn’t you,” he finished simply.

Harry could feel Ginny shiver next to him. “Why . . . why does that matter?” she asked quietly.

“Well,” he began with as much nonchalance as he could muster, “I’m realizing I can be fairly thick sometimes, but I do know it’s considered rather bad form to go out on a date with a witch when you are in love with someone else.” He ignored Ginny’s intake of breath and continued. “And if that knowledge happens to hit you — finally — in the middle of said date, then I think it’s acceptable to end it as quickly and politely as possible and rush off to find the witch you love so that you can tell her.” He squeezed Ginny’s hand. “Even if it’s the middle of the night and you have to . . .”

That was as far as Harry got because suddenly Ginny was in his lap and her lips were on his and he didn’t really want to talk anymore.

When they came up for air a couple minutes later Harry was lying back on Ginny’s bed and she was fully on top of him. They looked at each other, noses practically touching, and suddenly Harry couldn’t help but laugh. Ginny giggled back and the feeling her hips wiggling against his almost made Harry forget that they probably needed to talk — at least a little bit — about all this.

“When did you know?” asked Ginny, breaking into his thoughts.

Harry rubbed his hands over Ginny’s bum before answering.

“Somewhere between the entrée and dessert,” he said. “Skye had been going on about how foolish everyone had been to fight the Ministry and then the Death Eaters. I didn’t want to disagree with her — since we were on a date and everything,” Harry explained hastily when Ginny raised her eyebrows. “But the only thing I could think was how different she was from you, and that it would be so much better if it was you sitting across from me.”

“Really?” asked Ginny.

Harry smiled at Ginny and brushed her hair back from her face. “I know — now — how hard it must have been for you to watch me and Ron and Hermione leave last year, not even knowing where we were going. But you never questioned that we needed to go. And even before that you were right there fighting for what we knew was right. We could have all been killed any number of times, but every time I looked next to me, there you were.”

Ginny had barely moved while Harry was talking. “And Skylar . . . ” she said.

“Skylar made it quite clear that she didn’t believe in any of it. It was more than her just saying she preferred to keep her head down and her mouth shut — I really got the impression that she thought it was somebody else’s problem.”

“Are you sure?” asked Ginny. “Maybe she was trying to hide the fact that she was just scared. Or that her parents’ wouldn’t let her fight.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Are you defending Skye?”

Ginny grinned. “I guess I can feel generous now.”

“Well,” said Harry. “How generous do you feel knowing that she told me that she didn’t see why everyone made such a big deal about all the Ministry edicts — and that she had barely noticed a change in the government at all?”

“She said that?” Ginny was incredulous.

“And that she thought it was a waste of money to spend it on memorials and remembrances and things, and that if fewer people had gone running to Hogsmeade during the Final Battle, fewer would have died.”

Ginny snorted. “And after she said that, how much longer did you stay on the date?”

“I should have left way before that,” said Harry. He was nuzzling her neck and feeling pleasantly fuzzy as Ginny trailed her hands along his back. “We could have been doing this a lot sooner.”

“Skylar Bloody Marks,” Ginny murmured, leaning her head back to give Harry better access.

********

“You know,” said Harry a couple minutes later as he traced lazy circles on the back of Ginny’s hand, “have you happened to notice the date, today?”

“Hmmm,” said Ginny. “I’m not sure, but I think it might be January 31st.”

“Yep,” agreed Harry. “January 31st. Seems to me there was something we had decided to do on January 31st.”

He leaned over and began kissing her again, moving his tongue against her lips to get her to open her mouth.

“Wait, Harry,” said Ginny. She pushed his hand away from where it was working its way underneath her shirt. “I don’t think we can do this.”

Harry froze. “Why not?” he asked in a choked voice. “I thought you said . . . that you wanted . . .” He sounded so upset that Ginny had to bite back her giggle. She forced her voice to sound calm when she answered.

“We agreed that we’d sleep together on January 31st only if neither of us was involved with someone,” she said. Harry understood immediately, his shoulders relaxed and he went back to tracing circles.

“And now . . .” he began.

“Now we’re both involved with someone,” she answered. She couldn’t keep the satisfaction out of her voice. “And since we’re both involved with someone, what does that do to our agreement?”

Harry didn’t answer her right away. He looked seriously at her as if he was considering exactly how to frame an answer she wasn’t going to like. “Well,” he said. “I guess maybe it means it’s off then.”

He spoke so earnestly that Ginny might have believed him for a second — maybe, if she couldn’t also feel him against her thigh. She shifted a bit as if she was merely trying to get more comfortable on the bed and caught him watching the way her bare leg pressed into his arousal.

He swallowed. “Then again,” he continued, “maybe we just have to change the . . . parameters of what we’ve agreed to do.”

“How would they change?” asked Ginny. She knew what she wanted — she knew what he wanted too — and she wanted him to say it.

Harry put his arms around her and rolled until she was on top of him again.

“Well,” he said, reaching up to kiss her lightly, “for starters, we agree that everything we do, from now on, is because we love each other and we want to, not because we want to get it over with.”

“I can live with that,” said Ginny softly.

“Because,” Harry continued assertively, running his hands up and down Ginny’s back and making her shiver, “I want it to be clear that I do love you. Right now. And not just as a friend.” His hands stopped, and just for a second, a hint of hesitance crept into his voice. “Is that strange? That I just realized an hour ago how I feel about you, and I’m already saying it? It’s usually supposed to take a while, I think.”

“It has taken a while, Harry,” she said. “We just somehow failed to see it.” She gave him a joking grimace. “I think we’re thicker than even my brother and Hermione.”

Harry groaned. “Don’t ever let them know you said that,” he said. “We’d never live it down.”

“Although I can kind of see why we didn’t realize it,” she mused. It had bugged her all week that she had totally failed to realize that she liked Harry as more than a friend — and probably had for some time — but now she was closer to understanding why. Of course, the fact that she was half naked and was lying contentedly on top of him probably gave her particular clarity about the issue.

“Why?” asked Harry. He’d begun slowly raising and lowering his hips against her. For a minute, Ginny was distracted.

“Why . . .uhh . . . why?” she mumbled. “Why what?”

Harry pushed a little harder. “Why didn’t we realize it?”

Ginny repositioned herself, realizing that but for the little scrap of cotton of her knickers and his pants, they’d be . . . Focus Ginevra! She forced herself back to Harry’s question.

“Well, I think we were both so comfortable with our friendship, it didn’t occur to us to be more. Everything we did sort of fit into the fact that we were friends. Very good friends, of course.” The last part of her answer came out as more of a gasp because Harry had clasped her bum and pushed her into him.

Ginny was tingling all over. She knew something was going to happen between them tonight — soon, and she still couldn’t quite believe it. She’d spent half the week imagining Harry having sex with bloody Skylar Marks, after all.

“Yeah,” said Harry. “Like, when you gave me my . . . gift at Christmas, I actually thought to myself, ‘wow, Ginny is a really great friend,’ when what I should have been thinking is, ‘wow, Ginny is really amazing — I should get off my arse and ask her out.’” He leaned into her suddenly and wrapped his arms around her back. “Don’t ever let me be that thick again,” he mumbled into her neck.

“Me either,” said Ginny.

Harry raised himself up on his forearms and looked down at her.

“So,” he said, licking his lips. “Are we going to . . . do this?” His eyes were wide and dilated and Ginny could feel his entire body trembling above her.

She didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes please,” she said. “I want to.”

“I want to too,” Harry said thickly. “A lot.”

Ginny started to joke that she could tell — even raised up on his arms, the bulge in Harry’s trousers skimmed her belly — but the look in his eyes made her say something else entirely.

“I love you.” The words rolled off her tongue easily. They’d said them to each other before — but it still felt like the first time.

Harry’s face lit up with happiness. “And I love you.” He rolled over to lie next to her on his side. “Otherwise I won’t have enough control to go much farther,” he explained with a wry grin.

Ginny scooted closer and hooked one leg around Harry’s hip. “So this is torture?” she asked innocently.

Harry groaned before putting both hands on her shoulders and pushing her slightly away. “You do want to have sex tonight, right? Actual sex? Because if you keep that up, there’s no way I’m going to last even until you’re totally naked.”

In response, Ginny sat up and pulled her t-shirt over her head and dumped it unceremoniously on the floor. “Better?” she asked.

She shivered as Harry licked his lips and stared at her breasts. “You still have your knickers on,” he said hoarsely.

Before she could even retort that he was completely dressed, Harry was sitting up too, kicking off his shoes and pushing down his trousers. His jumper and pants followed Ginny’s shirt to the floor and soon the two of them were lying facing each other wearing only their underwear.

Ginny giggled. “That was fast.”

Harry put his hands on her face and kissed her. “Yeah, well, let’s hope that’s the only thing that’s fast tonight.”

“You’re worried about that, aren’t you?” asked Ginny. She was skimming her hand up and down Harry’s side, enjoying how smooth his skin felt, pulled taut over the muscles of his abdomen and thigh.

“I think it’s practically required that a bloke worry about it, his first time,” said Harry.

“Well,” said Ginny, hooking her leg over his again, “if it goes too fast the first time we’ll just have to try it again.”

“And again,” agreed Harry.

As she moved her hands to the waistband of Harry’s boxers, Ginny mentally thanked Merlin that nothing about this felt awkward. Maybe it was because they had gotten so many prerequisites out of the way while they were still just friends but now Ginny felt totally comfortable. Nothing had really changed between them. Except for everything.

“I still feel like your friend too,” Harry said suddenly, as if Ginny had spoken out loud.

“I know,” nodded Ginny. She smirked. “For example, I can comment on your technique and how you can make improvements, like I would have when we were just trying to check things off our list.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “And what makes you think I’m going to be the one needing to make improvements?” he asked. “Personally, I think you’re going to find me pretty darn close to perfect.” As if to prove his point he suddenly bent his head dow n and gave her a deep kiss, and then flicked his tongue across the most sensitive part of her neck. She couldn’t help but gasp at the shock of heat that seemed to shoot straight from Harry’s mouth down through her body and she arched her back and moaned.

Harry looked up with a satisfied grin. “I thought so.”

Ginny swatted him lightly. “I’d call you a prat, but I want you to do that again.”

Harry looked around at the dark red hangings surrounding the bed and smirked. “How does it feel to know that you are about to lose your virginity in your Hogwarts dormitory, with your roommates sleeping only a couple of feet away?”

“It makes me hope that you are as good at setting privacy charms as Hermione,” she said, grinning back.

Time seemed to move in slow motion after that. After Ginny said a contraception spell they stopped talking, and when Harry bent over to kiss her in the silence, Ginny felt the subtle shift in the way he touched her. It wasn’t tentative; it didn’t stop at the implied limit they’d always followed before. He possessed her with his eyes and then with his mouth and hands, exploring every inch of her body.

She leaned back and let him. He began at her neck, giving her light nibbling kisses that tickled and drove her crazy. She tried to force herself to stay still but after a minute had to wrap her arms around Harry’s back and pull him closer. He groaned quietly into the dip of her collarbone. “Going slow . . . isn’t easy when you do that Ginny,” he said.

“I’ll try to be still,” she promised.

But it was no use. Harry’s hands and tongue were everywhere and it felt so good that Ginny couldn’t help but wrap her arms around him as tightly as she could.

“Is that good?” he asked cheekily.

“Fuck, yes,” Ginny groaned. “Don’t stop.”

“No chance of that,” Harry agreed. He moved his second hand down to her knickers and then looked at her. “These are pretty much just in the way, you know?”

“Get rid of them then,” Ginny gasped. She was focusing all her attention on the tiny spasms of pleasure that Harry’s fingers were creating. Harry obligingly pulled off Ginny’s knickers.

************************

Afterwards, Harry collapsed on top of Ginny, breathing heavily. She rubbed his back lightly, moving up and down in slow, gentle strokes, tickling lightly at his sides. Harry gave her a kiss and then positioned himself on his side, next to Ginny.

She was smiling at him with her entire face. He cupped her cheek in his palm and asked anxiously, “So it didn’t hurt too much?”

Ginny shook her head. “No. I mean, it did hurt a little bit, at first, but it didn’t last that long.”

Harry was watching her intently to make sure she wasn’t trying to keep anything from him. “But you didn’t . . . you know.” He frowned a bit. “Is that okay?”

Ginny grinned. “Yes, it’s okay Harry. You took care of me first, remember? It’s not the same for a witch as a wizard. We can enjoy ourselves even if we don’t . . . you know, really.” She turned her head and kissed Harry’s palm, then looked up into his eyes. “So, was it what you expected? For you, I mean.”

Harry shook his head. “No. It was only a million times better.” He chuckled. “It was unbelievable, actually. I can’t believe we actually just had sex!” He kissed Ginny. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” said Ginny. She leaned back into her pillow. “So, are you going to stay here all night?”

Harry sighed. “Better not. I already broke a bunch of rules getting here.” He brushed a lock of hair away from her face. “I really wish I could wake up next to you tomorrow.”

Ginny nodded. “Me too.” She sat up and leaned over the bed to grab their clothes.

Harry grabbed her around the waist. “I don’t have to leave this second, though,” he said. Ginny looked at him and smiled. “Really?”

Harry nodded. “Really. And,” he said dramatically, grabbing his traveling cloak from the end of her bed. “I brought my Invisibility Cloak.”

Ginny grinned at him. “We could get into a lot of trouble wandering around the castle under your Cloak.”

Harry grinned back. “I know.” He paused for a second. “Wanna try?”

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