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Getting Over Harry Potter | ||||||
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Category: Post-OotP, Alternate Universe, Buried Gems Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley Genres: General, Humor Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 515 Summary: When Ginny realises that she is firmly entrenched as Harry’s friend in the strictest, most platonic sense of the word, she is determined to banish any of her own definitely non-platonic sentiments once and for all. She comes up with a plan – an ingenious, infallible, perfect, foolproof plan – but how was it supposed to work if Harry seemed to be everywhere she looked? Hitcount: Story Total: 131242; Chapter Total: 18341 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: Happy Hallowe'en! I have to warn you, gentle readers, that the amount of fluff in this chapter may send you into sugar shock. You may never need to eat Hallowe'en candy again. Ever. :) |
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Saturday afternoon “All right, I’ll tell you, but do you think we could sit down first?” Ginny said, trying to stall for time so she could gather her thoughts. Now that the moment had come for their talk, she was feeling a bit queasy, but she was also determined to have things out in the open once and for all. “Sure. But not here, the ground’s all manky.” Harry scanned the area and gestured towards the stands. “Let’s fly over there.” The stands were littered with red and gold rosettes and badges, and there was still some debris from where the Malfoy’s Bludger had smashed through the barrier. Ginny spotted a banner lying on the ground that had been charmed to depict a rearing lion holding a still writhing, bloody, headless snake in its jaws, and she spent a few seconds exclaiming over its realism before Harry took her broom from the death grip she had on it and gently pulled her down onto a bench. He straddled the bench, facing her and focusing his intense green-eyed gaze on her. Ginny smiled a little shyly at him, nervously adjusted her ponytail, and took a deep breath. This was it. She promised herself that whatever the outcome of this conversation, she would still be Harry’s friend. Well, of course, she would like it even better if she came out of this little talk as something more than Harry's friend, but she would accept whatever happened with good grace and vowed not to turn into a human hosepipe — like some people — if things became pear-shaped. She stared vacantly at the banner, watching the lion decapitating the serpent again and again. “Ginny?” Harry reached out and took her hand, startling her from her thoughts. His touch was gentle and warm even through his Quidditch gloves. Ginny marvelled at how small her own hand seemed to be compared to his. “Oh yes — erm, how do I begin this?” she mumbled awkwardly, feeling her heart skip a few beats when he started rubbing her palm with the pad of his thumb. “From the beginning, of course,” he replied, squeezing her hand. “It helps if you take time to calm yourself. Get in touch with your Inner Eye, so we can interpret your dream correctly.” He smirked and pushed his glasses up his nose, using their joined hands to do so. “Cheeky bugger,” Ginny groused good-naturedly, relaxing a little at Harry’s attempt to put her at ease but still distracted by his nearness. The wind was blowing in her direction, and the scent of him was making her a bit befuddled. “You channelling Trelawney now, are you?” She took another deep breath. Here goes nothing. “All right, in my dream, you and I were playing Quidditch, and I was telling you to grab the Snitch, which was right in front of me.” Harry was nodding sagely. “Hmmm. You were probably having pre-game anxieties.” “Will you shut it?” Ginny pretended to swipe at him with her free hand. Harry smiled disarmingly and captured that hand too, making her stumble over her next words in surprise. “Any — Anyway, before you could get it, Filch flew out with Mrs. Norris perched on his broom and shouted at us because it turned out we were playing in the Great Hall.” “Ah, interesting, and maybe just the tiny bit disturbing. Filch on a broom with Mrs. Norris. That probably means—” Harry stopped when Ginny glared at him. “Okay, shutting up now,” he said meekly. He became preoccupied with rubbing small circles on the backs of her hands, sending pleasurable electric shocks shooting up and down her body. Ginny dimly wondered how she was going to manage to finish her story before she expired from utter delight. She looked down silently at his fingers, before she realised that he was calling her name. “Ginny?” “Oh. Yes. Where was I? Y-you cast a Silencing spell at him. He looked so funny. He was screaming but no words were coming out of his mouth that I laughed really hard and fell off my broom. You caught me and then …” Ginny’s voice faltered and she felt her face heat up. “And then, what?” Harry asked, leaning forward eagerly. “And then, nothing.” Ginny said, looking down on her lap. “I woke up when Hermione tried to drown me with an Aguamenti spell.” She knew she was going back on her decision to be honest with him, but she was suddenly too shy to tell him what had almost happened in her dream. She sighed deeply. “Okay, your turn. You tell me what your dream was about.” She glanced back up and caught a flicker of disappointment on Harry’s face, but he gave her a lopsided smile. “All right. But I think you’re not telling me everything. I’ll tell you my dream and then see if I can find a way to persuade you to tell me the rest of yours, yeah?” He raised one eyebrow at her suggestively. Bloody buggering hell. Ginny’s eyes glazed over as her brain immediately started volunteering numerous naughty ways as to exactly how Harry could persuade her to tell the rest of her dream. Harry exhaled noisily, dragging her back from the wicked path her thoughts had taken. “Let’s see. In my dream, I was sitting down by the lake, watching the Giant Squid splash about. That’s something I actually do when I feel the need to let out some steam, so I think I did that a lot last year. I became quite good friends with the Giant Squid, you know.” Harry chuckled. “I reckon I should give it a Christmas present or something. Maybe some socks for its tentacles? It probably gets awfully cold in the lake during winter.” Ginny giggled as she imagined the Giant Squid’s tentacles sporting long woolen socks in different bright colours. “Maybe you can get Hermione to knit them for you,” she suggested, knowing that their friend would enthusiastically agree to do the job. “Now that’s an idea,” Harry snickered softly. “Anyway, I was down by the lake for a different reason that day. I was actually compiling a list on how to get a certain girl to notice me.” There was a wide smile on his face as if he were recalling something pleasant. He idly played with her fingers. “Now, this girl is special. She’s always treated me as a genuine person. She’s been there to cheer me up and make me laugh at myself. She’s been the only one to kick me in the bum and knock some sense into me when I start acting like a surly moron. She’s always been a great source of comfort to me, although I don’t think she knows that.” Harry let go of her hands to rub the back of his neck ruefully and rose from his seat. He turned around to face her, his green eyes solemn behind his glasses. “However, just when I became aware that I was really falling for her, I had to reckon with the possibility that I had no chance with her anymore, because a friend told me a long time ago that she had given up on me.” Ginny stared up at him. Harry looked pure dead sexy, with his elbows on the railing behind him and one leg propped up on the bench. The wind was whipping his Quidditch robes about his lithe frame. She wanted to pull him down again; she missed the warmth of his body and the feel of his hands on hers. “So I decided to come up with a plan to win this lovely girl back,” Harry continued, running a hand through his hair. “In my dream, I was writing down things that I could do to show her how she had become the most important person to me, and in real life, I was already doing my best to put that plan into motion. For a while, I thought it was working, you know? I thought that I was winning her affections again. But then a few days ago, imagine my dismay when I was informed by a reliable source that she had embarked on her own plan to get over me.” He shook his head regretfully and smiled at her. Ginny’s face burned with embarrassment. I’m going to murder Hermione. I don’t care if I make Ron an early widower and end up in Azkaban with the other Death Chompers. Harry cleared his throat and resumed speaking, interrupting her vague musings on when the best time would be to push her bushy-haired, know-it-all, ex-best friend into a cauldron of bubotuber pus, and if she could make it look like an accident. “However, the same reliable source assured me that I could still get this girl to like me again and that I shouldn’t give up, so I didn’t. I tried everything I could to make her realise how much I liked her. And then I found something else that made me a bit more optimistic about my chances.” He reached into his back pocket and brought out a rather crumpled piece of parchment. It looked well-worn, as if it had been unfurled repeatedly and read several times over. Ginny looked closely at it. She could just make out the instructions for Gurdyroot pudding on the back. “Harry,” she said faintly. “Where did you get that?” “Oh, I found it in the library the other day. I was looking for you and Luna told me that you were there.” “Why were you looking for me?” “I was going to tell you about the Quidditch practice, remember?” Harry replied, rolling up the parchment and tucking it back into his pocket. “And since I didn’t see you nearly the entire day and you weren’t in the common room studying, I got worried, and I wanted to know if you were all right. I needed to see you.” “Really?” “Yeah, really,” he replied softly, smiling at her. “I always feel better whenever I’m with you. Ginny, I like you. A whole lot. And I’d really like it if we became more than just friends.” Merlin’s mangy mauve manx! Ginny sat absolutely still, not daring to breathe, while Harry continued speaking earnestly to her. “After all, I got the whole nobility thing down pat — Hermione did say I have a ‘saving-people-thing’, right?” Harry wants to be more than friends with me! “And I reckon I’m fairly decent on a broom, I love Quidditch—” Harry likes me back! “—plus I get along with your family most of the time—” So you’ve finally caught on, have you, Ginevra? “—and you were the one who told me that I pass your mum’s standards.” Shut it, brain. “I don’t know if I’m all that funny, though.” Harry’s brow furrowed and then his face brightened up with a dazzling smile that made Ginny feel like she had been hit by a Bludger in the stomach. Phwoar. “I know! I’ll tell you an amusing story I heard once.” What? Ginny blinked. “See, there was this Muggle man who went into a cheese shop—” What on earth was the boy talking about? “You know, you forgot to mention one quality on that list,” she interrupted, grinning mischievously. “I did?” Harry asked, confused. “Yeah, you forgot to say that you were devilishly handsome,” Ginny teased him. His cheeks flooded with colour and he ducked his head bashfully. She thought he looked adorable. “Nah, but I reckoned that maybe you could overlook that one,” Harry mumbled to himself. “You really have no idea, do you?” Ginny asked, looking at him incredulously. Harry looked up sharply. Smiling, she reached out and reclaimed his hand. It was her turn to trace her fingers on his skin. She was thrilled to see the gooseflesh course up his arm. “What do you mean?” Harry looked intrigued. “Harry James Potter. Don’t you know that you are, quite possibly, the most unbelievably handsome boy in all of Britain?” She paused as she watched him battle his embarrassment. “And apparently, the most modest too,” she chuckled. “I could say the same, you know.” Tugging at her hand, Harry pulled her up to him, his eyes hungrily searching her face. “Do you know just how astonishingly beautiful you are, Ginny Weasley?” he said huskily. “No one comes even close.” Ginny’s chest tightened, and she felt her knees grow weak at the intensity of Harry’s gaze. It was a good thing he was still holding her hand, or she might have already collapsed from the sheer sweetness of it all. “Oh Harry,” she murmured, smiling back at him. “You do have a way with words. Well, since you put it that way, it seems that you’ve been able to persuade me to tell you the rest of my dream after all.” He squeezed her hand. “Brilliant.” Ginny brought her face up close to his. “In my dream, when I fell from my broom and you caught me, do you know what happened next?” “What?” “Before Hermione woke me up, you were about to do something that I think we would have both enjoyed a great deal.” Harry’s mouth turned up in a slow, wicked smile, and he leaned in to cup her face in his hands. “Well, do you know what happened in my dream?” She shook her head wordlessly. “I looked up from my parchment, and there you were, standing in front of me and smiling. So there was really nothing else to do but reach out for you and…” Ginny felt her heart stop when his eyes drifted down to her mouth. “And what, Harry?” she said in breathless anticipation. Instead of answering, Harry lowered his head to touch his mouth gently to hers. Ginny dimly registered that Harry’s lips were soft and just the slightest bit chapped, before her eyes fluttered shut and she gave in to the sensation of the kiss. He kissed her tentatively, almost as if he were afraid that she would break, but Ginny was having none of that; she had waited far too long for this moment. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she stood on her toes and firmly pressed her mouth against his. Harry made an appreciative sound low in his throat, reached up to bury his hands in her hair, and kissed her more enthusiastically, making her shiver uncontrollably. She opened her mouth and the tip of his tongue gently touched hers, as if asking for permission to deepen the kiss. Ginny gladly gave her consent with a small moan of pleasure. She felt her knees buckle, and she held on tightly to him for support, as the kiss seemed to go on and on yet seemed to end far too soon. “I’ve wanted to do that for ages,” Harry confessed when they finally broke apart, both of them a little out of breath. He wound a loose tendril of her hair around his finger and tugged gently on it. “I’ve been wanting you to do that for longer, you great idiot.” Ginny snuggled into his embrace, her head tucked under his chin. She sighed happily. So this was how it felt to be held in Harry’s manly muscular arms. “I take it you never gave up on me, then?” “Of course I did, silly.” “What?” Harry pulled away from her, astounded. Ginny giggled softly at Harry’s offended appearance. “What was I supposed to do, you stupid boy?” she said fondly. “You all but ignored me during your third and fourth year. You only started noticing that I was more than Ron’s baby sister this summer. Don’t deny it!” She wagged her finger playfully when he had the grace to look abashed. “Well, I can only plead ignorance. And that I was a great big halfwit.” Harry grimaced. “I started wising up during summer hols at The Burrow, Ginny, when we spent all that time together.” He caught her hand and kissed it extravagantly. “Oh, I could get used to that.” Ginny caught her breath, her heart fluttering. “Anyway, it’s a good thing that I did give up on you, because I was able to act normally and not turn into a squeaking idiot whenever you spoke to me.” “Hey, I kind of liked that squeaking idiot,” Harry protested, grinning. “How could you?” Ginny made a face. “She was awfully cute when she made random squealing noises.” “Ugh.” Ginny hit him on the arm. “Anyway, I did give up on you, and I was also determined to get over you.” “But why?” Harry looked puzzled. Ginny linked her arm through his and pulled him down to sit on the bench. “After last Saturday’s Quidditch practice when you ruffled my hair,” she levelled an exasperated glare at him, “I decided that I needed to get over you once and for all.” “Wait, I ruffled your hair?” Harry repeated, perplexed. “Like a little girl,” Ginny affirmed. “I thought — all right, it’s official. He only sees me as a friend. Get over him now, Ginevra.” “I didn’t ruffle your hair!” Harry objected. “It was more like a — a — loving pat.” “Great.” Ginny shot him an exasperated glare. “Now I’m a pet pygmy puff or something.” He reached over and freed Ginny’s ponytail from its elastic. “No, like this.” He began stroking her hair tenderly. Ginny snorted even as she leaned her head on his shoulder. “That’s not how I remember it, Harry. I felt like your little sister. So I came up with a plan — a perfect, foolproof plan to help me forget that I liked you so much. Needless to say, it was doomed from the start.” She sighed dramatically. “You ruined every tactic I had.” “Good,” Harry promptly responded, placing his arm around her and dropping a light kiss on her temple. “You have Hermione to thank for that.” “I can’t believe I enlisted Hermione’s help, that little traitor.” Ginny frowned. “No wonder she kept telling me that it was never going to work.” “Hey, don’t be too hard on her. I practically begged for her help, you know. I asked her how I could get you to start liking me again. We even came up with a name for it — ‘How to Get Ginny Weasley to Fancy Harry Potter Again.’” “Is that why you kept sitting next to me?” She peeked at him from under her lashes. “And putting your arm around my shoulder?” Harry grinned. “Yeah. That was number one on the list — ‘Make It Difficult for Her to Ignore You.’” “You don’t know how well that one worked,” Ginny sighed in appreciation. “What about you touching and saying nice things about my hair all the time? He chuckled and tucked a wayward lock behind her ear. “That was number two — ‘Compliment Her on Her Hair or Appearance All the Time’. That was easy.” He let some of the auburn strands fall between his fingers. “I love your hair.” “Do you know how many times I’ve had to stop myself from jumping you just because you were playing with my hair?” He cocked his head and smirked. “You should have jumped me, you know. I certainly wouldn’t have stopped you.” “No way,” Ginny said adamantly. “What would people think of me, suddenly snogging the living daylights out of you?” “They’d say I’m one lucky bloke, and your hordes of admirers would want to pound my head to the ground.” Harry glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his mouth twitching. “Like Jimmy Peakes.” “Harry!” Ginny groaned. “I told you that was a big misunderstanding.” “Yeah? What’s up with that? You never did tell me.” “Um, well, I thought you were the one singing in the shower, you know? And after our little encounter on the Quidditch pitch, I had already decided to tell you how I felt about you, so I made this little speech about liking you and whatnot.” She bit her lip in embarrassment. “Imagine how I felt when it turned out I had been confessing my feelings to Jimmy instead of you.” Ginny frowned when Harry began laughing uproariously. “Huh. I should have just told Jimmy that I did make that speech for him,” she said caustically. “It would serve you right.” Harry’s chuckles gradually stopped, and he turned her head to face him. “Oh no, Ginny, I don’t think I could have stood by and let you do that. I would have told Jimmy straight away that you’re off limits.” His green eyes gleamed at her. “And that goes for the rest of your admirers.” Ginny tilted her head back and kissed him longingly, feeling his arms tighten around her waist. They parted after several seconds, and Ginny buried her face in his shirt contentedly. “You smell so good, Harry.” “You must be joking. I’m all sweaty from the game.” “But a hot and sweaty Harry Potter is every witch’s fantasy come true!” Ginny simpered and batted her eyelashes at him. She burst into laughter at Harry’s disgusted face. He growled at her and nuzzled her neck. “I should be the one saying that, Ginny. You always smell bloody fantastic.” “So, it’s true then?” Ginny asked, then gasped when Harry proceeded to trail little kisses along her throat. “What’s true?” he answered gruffly, seemingly preoccupied with the patch of skin just behind her ear. “Ron said — Ron said — Oh Merlin —” Ginny promptly forgot what she was saying as she arched her neck to give him better access to it. Several seconds later, Harry stopped kissing her long enough to murmur, “You were trying to tell me something a while ago?” “W-what?” Ginny tried to recall their earlier conversation as Harry’s warm breath tickled her ear. “Oh right. Um, let me see…Ron said that you’ve been sniffing my hair like a bloodhound,” she said disinterestedly, tilting her head and trying to get him to start kissing her neck again. He brought his head up abruptly, managing to bump his nose on her jaw in the process. “Ron said that?” He leaned away from her, looking horror-struck. “Oh Merlin, he’s going to have my head for that.” “Ow! Good grief, Harry!” Ginny cried out, rubbing her chin in pain. “That hurt!’ “Sorry,” he said, but he retained his distance, gazing around him warily as if he expected an angry Ron to materialize in front of them. “Hey! Come back here!” Ginny grabbed his shirt and pulled him near. She put her arms on his shoulders. “In the first place, I certainly don’t need Ron’s or any of my brothers’ permission to go out with you,” she said bluntly. “And second, Ron’s all right with it. In fact, he was one of the first ones who encouraged me not to get over you.” “Hang on. We are talking about your six foot tall brother who weighs thirteen stone and has the over-protective instincts of a nesting Hungarian Horntail, right?” Harry asked sceptically. “My best mate? Madly in love with my other best mate?” “Yeah, that sounds like the idiot in question,” she confirmed, absently toying with the hair on the back of Harry’s neck. She was pleased to note that a shiver ran through him. “Bloody hell.” Harry shook his head in disbelief. “A sensitive Ron Weasley. Will wonders never cease?” She started laughing at his flabbergasted expression, and after a few seconds he joined in. When their laughter died down, Ginny looked boldly at him. “All right, Harry, now that you’ve got over your irrational fear of your best mate, you need to continue what you were doing a while ago, or I’m going to give serious thought about getting over you again.” A smile crossed Harry’s face. “Well, we can’t let that happen, can we?” He tilted her chin upwards with one finger. “No, we can’t,” Ginny sombrely agreed and parted her lips as Harry closed the distance between them. He slid his arms around her and gathered her to him. The warmth of his body surrounded her, and she scarcely noticed the slight chill in the air as his mouth slanted over hers. A thrill ran through her as Harry gently teased her mouth open and intensified the kiss. Ginny lost all sense of time and place — there was only Harry and his wonderful kisses. Ginny dreamily wondered if it was possible to spontaneously combust from bliss. Harry slowly drew back from her, as if reluctant to break contact with her mouth. “All right there, Ginny?” he murmured, caressing her cheek tenderly. “Fantastic, Harry,” she said breathlessly, turning her face and pressing a small kiss into his palm. Harry inhaled sharply, and his eyes were again darkening with passion when Ginny’s stomach suddenly rumbled loudly, startling both of them. Harry smirked and started sniggering. “Good grief,” Ginny said, flushing in embarrassment as her stomach gave another adamant growl. “Did you have any breakfast?” Harry asked in amusement. “I didn’t have time. I just had a piece of toast,” Ginny answered, clutching at her stomach in the hopes of stilling the scandalous racket it was making. Laughing softly, Harry stood up. “Come on, we’d better get back to the castle. I’m kind of famished myself. Maybe we can nick something from the kitchens.” “Oh, all right,” she grumbled, mentally cursing the famous Weasley appetite for insisting that she needed to be doing something else with her mouth aside from kissing Harry. She took his outstretched hand and struggled to her feet. Harry pulled her close and carefully twined their hands together. “Hey, does this mean we’re together now?” he asked softly. “I certainly hope so,” Ginny answered him, a steely glint in her eye. “Now that I have you, Harry, I don’t plan on letting you out of my sight any time soon.” He chuckled quietly and leaned his forehead against hers. “I’m all yours, Ginny.” “And I’m yours, Harry.” They shared another brilliant kiss, and Ginny dizzily congratulated herself on making the best decision of her life. It was a good thing that she had given up on getting over Harry Potter. A/N: I dedicate this super extra squishy chapter to Chreechree, my wonderful, amazing and ravishingly beautiful (second only to me, of course - hahaha) beta and good friend, since she gave me extra dialogue and told me exactly how she wanted Harry to pose against the railing. Phwoar. To the KWSS, can I get a squee-g? Come on Dave, I know you want to! It's not quite the end yet, as some of you have asked for an epilogue of sorts. Who am I to deny the wishes of a staggering number of very insistent people? (Well, it was really just three people, including me, but who’s counting?) I do have a challenge for you. Ginny needs one more epithet, so the reviewer who can give me the funniest one will have it featured in the epilogue. So, I suppose that means you have to leave a review then! |
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