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SIYE Time:23:46 on 17th September 2021


It Feels Like the First Time
By notadryeeye

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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:None
Genres: Comedy, Fluff, General
Warnings: Mild Sexual Situations
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 17
Summary: *** The author has been reminded via the e-mail address on file that this story is listed as incomplete and has not been updated in over 2 years ***

*** The author has been reminded via the e-mail address on file that this story is listed as incomplete and has not been updated in over 2 years ***

It may not be the first time...but it sure feels like it to Harry. My post DH attempt at something a bit more fluffy. Takes place in the middle of August of 1997...only a few months removed from the final battle events of DH. And no I'm not abandoning writing of Normalcy. This is just something I wrote on the side
Hitcount: Story Total: 4626



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.





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He couldn’t stop fidgeting.

He couldn’t seem to stop moving and twitching, his hands going involuntarily to check his buttons on his shirt, straighten his collar or brush away his hair from his face.

He really didn’t understand why he was acting like this. There was really nothing to be nervous about and still here he was–standing outside the Burrow in the little garden, staring at the still unopened back door as he shifted from side to side, scrutinizing his own appearance while at the same time making himself more ruffled with each gesture.

He knew that Mrs. Weasley was inside, bustling around the kitchen, preparing dinner. He could see her shadow moving beyond the lace curtains fluttering softly in the evening breeze. He knew that Mr. Weasley was still at the Ministry and none of the Weasley boys were here–all were either at work or their respective flats and homes.

So it was beyond Harry’s own comprehension as to why he was so absolutely terrified to step foot inside the Burrow at the moment.

‘Just do it’ a voice within him pressed. ‘What the hell is wrong with you? You weren’t even this bloody scared when you took on Voldemort.’

‘Yeah–but I wasn’t trying to impress Voldemort, was I?’ another voice chimed in. ‘If I screwed up then–I was facing death and wouldn’t have to worry about it afterwards. If I blow this--it’ll haunt me the rest of my life.’

‘What a bloody wanker,’ another voice jeered. ‘Grow some bullocks, man. Where the hell is your Gryffindor bravery?’

‘Must have left it back at the flat," Harry said to himself, moving to his right and out of plain view as he saw Mrs. Weasley glance out the window.

‘This is getting ridiculous,’ his own inner muse reminded him.

And it really was. If he waited much longer she’d probably think he wasn’t coming, that he’d stood her up and that he was a horrible boyfriend. And he certainly didn’t need that. He could imagine the wrath of the Weasley brothers–who had already warned him against breaking their sister’s heart–let alone Ginny’s reaction if he chickened out and was a no-show.

No…he just had to go ahead and do this–open the door and get on with this. This wasn’t really as hard as he was making it out to be. He would do fine–wouldn’t he?

Steeling himself and taking in a breath that seemed to fill and puff out his chest, he put a hand to the door and pushed it open, knocking as he entered to at least announce his arrival to Mrs. Weasley.

"Harry, dear," Mrs. Weasley greeted him as she turned around at the sound of the door opening. She put down the rolling pin she had been using and crossed the room towards him.

"Hullo, Mrs. Weasley," he replied as she hugged him, holding him for a few seconds as she always did. After a sufficient embrace she pulled away slightly and held him at arm’s length, taking in his appearance.

"Oh, don’t you look smart," she said with a big, glowing smile as she looked over his attire. "Doesn’t he look handsome?" she asked over her shoulder.

Harry looked beyond her and found Fleur sitting at the table, having gone unnoticed by him as he had first entered the kitchen. She had several bowls in front of her with various piles of raw vegetables spread out in front of her. Some were being chopped by knives set to do so by spells. And at the moment she seemed to be cleaning and cutting up green beans by hand in a large bowl.

"That ‘e does," she agreed, smiling brightly at Harry, causing him to blush at both women’s scrutiny of his dress. "Someone ‘as gone shopping, no?"

"Yeah," Harry admitted sheepishly. "Just a few things," he added.

The past few months since the battle had been busy and seemed to be a never ending whirlwind. He’d started both working and training with the Auror Department immediately following the events of the beginning of May. There was a lot to be sorted out following Voldemort’s downfall. There were Death Eaters that needed rounding up and trials for sentencing those who had been caught. The Ministry itself had been turned upside down by Voldemort’s regime, so there was a lot of straightening out and fine-tuning things structurally and departmentally that needed to be done before things could finally get back on track.

And of course many had called upon him to be involved in what seemed like all the happenings of the rebuilding process. He often wondered how defeating Voldemort qualified him to be able to give advice on rebuilding a government. He was eighteen now and didn’t have a real clue how things worked–he just had an idea of how he thought things should be and the right way things should be done. Most times that seemed to suffice people. But lately things had seemed to get so crazy and so hectic that he had finally told Kingsley, who was still filling in as interim Minister of Magic that he would continue in his Auror duties and training–but not to ask him to attend any more board or advisory meetings.

So with a bit of free time–which Kingsley had whole-heartedly agreed he needed–he found that his choice of clothing was growing terribly thin and ragged. He wore a revolving set of three work robes when he was at the Ministry, covering his less than desirable choice of jeans and t-shirt underneath.

Along with everything else that had happened in his life since May, he seemed to have started to grow again. So even the over-large hand me downs that he still used from his days with the Dursleys were beginning to become comically short on him. And most of his t-shirts were frayed and stained in some manner.

He simply had nothing nice to wear.

So in dire need of some replacement threads, Harry had ventured on his own to Muggle London last week and spent nearly the whole day trying to find a new wardrobe. Now the time spent shopping had not been due to the amount of clothes that he’d bought, but simply because he had been completely clueless as to what to buy.

He was sorely behind the times in regards to any form of fashion and he was quite sure he’d never been in fashion. So after wandering around aimlessly through several department stores, picking up an odd item here and there, not even sure of his correct size, he had finally caved in and took the help offered by one of the many sales clerks who had asked him if he needed assistance.

After being measured in every which way possible by a busty, middle-aged saleswoman and having dozens of jeans, shorts, shoes, jumpers, t-shirts, jackets, button-ups and even boxers thrown at him to try on, he had finally left the store with a satisfactory amount of suitable clothes for him to wear for almost any occasion imaginable.

So his dress tonight was a product of that day of shopping. He was wearing a freshly pressed white button up shirt with a slight pattern of miniscule, black dots across the fabric. He also had on a new pair of jeans, slightly faded in the right places by design. And he even had opted out of wearing his favorite canvas sneakers, instead wearing a new pair of leather loafers that the saleswoman had insisted were there most popular shoe for respectable young men like himself.

Overall he thought he’d done a good job of dressing himself for this occasion. He wasn’t planning an overly formal evening, but he wasn’t so casual that she would think that this was just another day. He was also freshly showered and after walking around with a small amount of stubble most days these past few months, he was as cleanly shaven as he could remember being in a while.He wanted to make this special and he thought he’d at least look the part if he screwed anything else up.

"Well you did a very good job then–you look very handsome tonight," Molly supplied, patting him softly on the cheek. "Very presentable for your special night," she added.

"Oh?" Fleur piped up with interest from the table. "And what iz special about tonight?" she asked as though perhaps someone had forgotten to mention a special occasion to her, maybe a Weasley family tradition she was not yet aware of.

"I–er–" Harry stumbled, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. "Ginny and I are–going out," he finished lamely.

"I thought you were already a couple?" she asked, her face showing a level of confusion.

"Well–we–are," Harry replied slowly. "But this–tonight–is going to be our first, real, actual–date," Harry supplied. "This will be our first time in public–outside of school–I mean–actually going–out," he added, emphasizing the last word.

Yes, tonight would be the first real date that he was taking Ginny on. Even though they’d been going out since the end of his sixth year–Ginny said he had to count the near year they spent away from each other because she never really counted the break up–they’d never went out and had a fun night together.

While they were both in school it had been hanging out between her O.W.L revisions, catching a quick snog between classes and spending sleepy afternoons out in the grounds, just talking or innocently exploring each other as new couples did. And since the battle, the only time it seemed they were spending together was at memorials and funerals. Or when they had a spare our or two where Harry was not busy at the Ministry or Ginny was not spending time with her mother, keeping an eye on the matriarch grieving for a son–they would spend those few quiet moments just holding each other under one of the trees in the orchard, talking about their days or letting go of some of the emotion still built up so strong within them from all that they had seen and endured.

But tonight, even though they’d mutually agreed shortly after the battle that they wanted to be together again and try their relationship out, Harry felt as though this was the first step towards their future together.

"That iz exciting," Fleur smiled, exchanging looks with Molly. "I remember my first date with Bill," Fleur said with a reminiscent grin upon her beautiful features. "He took me to ze ice cream parlor and zen we explored ze little shops along Diagon Alley. He ‘eld my hand ze whole way…he was so nervous," she said with a laugh. "Do you ‘ave something planned like that that? Ginny would enjoy it, I am sure."

"We’re–um–I’m taking her–well she doesn’t know yet," Harry struggled, his mouth suddenly not working the way it should as he tried to explain his plans. "I’m taking her to–Muggle London. We’re going to dinner and then–I thought maybe–a film or something."

In truth, he hadn’t had more than dinner planned concretely. He was sure Ginny had never been to the cinema–hell, he hadn’t–but what was more…he wasn’t sure she’d want to go. He figured he suggest it, and if she said ‘no’, they’d figure it out from there. He’d gotten the idea to go to the movies from Ron and Hermione, actually, even though he knew that it was a common place for non-magical people to take dates anyway. But Hermione had taken Ron a few weeks ago and she had said he’d enjoyed it–especially the treats and concessions that the cinema offered.

"I’m sure you’ll both have a lovely time," Mrs. Weasley assured him. "She’s upstairs getting ready…she should be down soon. I’ve never seen her take this long to get ready, actually. Maybe I should go see if–"

But the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs interrupted Mrs. Weasley’s musings.

Harry’s eyes were drawn to the rickety wooden staircase and he felt all air leave his lungs as Ginny stepped onto the bottom landing.

He’d always known, always told her she was beautiful. She was prettiest girl he’d ever seen even if she was wearing her school robes or a simple t-shirt and jeans. But at this moment, he couldn’t recall ever seeing her look so amazing.

The front strands of her hair had been twisted and pulled backwards on either side, fastened together at the back of her head with a small silver clip. The rest of her long, red hair cascaded down her back, nearly to her waist. She was wearing a light blue jean skirt and a pair of simple brown flip flops. She had on an emerald green sleeveless top that gathered just below her bust line and then flowed slightly outward away from her torso, finally resting lightly on her hips.

As she turned to smile brightly at him, she could see that she was wearing makeup, eye shadow and possibly some sort of lip gloss as far as he could tell. He had never seen her wear any, but he could deny that it only added to her beauty, however lightly she applied it.

"Hi," she said as she smiled widely at him, entering the room and crossing the space between them. "Don’t you look handsome tonight?" she said as she looked him up and down, taking in his new clothes. She looked highly impressed. "I guess you really do clean up nicely."

Before he knew it, she was right before him and was leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips. As she pulled away, all he could manage to do was grin at her stupidly, still not over how simply wonderful she looked.

"You–you look–wow," he breathed out. Ginny could only let out a snort of laughter at his befuddled and enamored state. "You–look–amazing–beautiful," he finally managed to force out, not wanting to sound like a total buffoon as he stood there with his jaw dropped and tongue hanging out.

"I’m not too dressed up, am I?" Ginny asked him. "You said dress nice–but casual. I wasn’t quite sure what that meant," she added with a smirk.

"No," Harry said shaking his head, suddenly fearful that his astonishment could be interpreted as something other than that she’d succeeded in knocking his socks off. "You’re fine–you’re good–perfect," he assured her and the smile he got in return told him that he’d said the right thing.

"Well then–if I’m dressed perfectly," Ginny began to tease. "Are you going to tell me where we’re going or what we’re doing?"

"We’re–um–going to London," Harry supplied, suddenly feeling a little less nervous in her presence.

"Well that’s helpful," she said grinning up at him. "Really narrows things down."

"I can’t give away all my secrets now, can I?" Harry responded with a little laugh. "What would be the point of going out if I told you everything?"

"I suppose you’ve got a point," she relented. "So are we going to be off? Or are we going to have this date right here in my parent’s kitchen?" she teased.

"No," Harry replied, catching Mrs. Weasley’s wide beaming smile over Ginny’s head as she watched the two of them interact. It barely seemed she could contain herself. "We’ll go. We need to be there by 7 anyways," he told her.

"Seven, eh?" Ginny said with a cocked brow as if the time would give something about the evening away.

"Yes, seven," Harry replied, saying no more.

"Then you two better get going," Molly interjected. "Wouldn’t want you to miss any of your evening," she added. "And you might want to bring a coat Ginny...it could a bit chilly if you're out too late," she added as she handed her daughter a light, white zip up hoodie, which Ginny took.

"Oh, we won't be out too late," Harry said quickly, making sure that somehow Mrs. Weasley didn't think he was going to keep her daughter out till the wee hours of morning where they could get up to anything and everything in betweeen. "We'll be back before midnight for sure," he added.

"Oh, because we're not both of age now and not being in by midnight would be such a crime," Ginny smiled at him, causing Harry's breath to catch as she did. How did she do that? Was it unintentional and unrealized on her part that she could make his heart flutter and all air leave his lungs with just a smile? Or was she secretly baiting him? Was it all just a charm?

"Well--have fun--and be safe," Molly said with a smile as she hugged Ginny, trying not to ruffle or mess up Ginny's outfit. As Molly pulled away she looked as though she wanted to fuss a bit more about this being her only daughter's first date outside of school--well as far as he knew it was.

What if Michael or Dean had taken her out somewhere during their respective relationships and he hadn't known? What if they had taken her on fantastic and amazing dates? Lavished her with gifts and presents?

Suddenly his idea of a quiet dinner and a movie didn't sound so interesting. He had thought she would enjoy going to Muggle London and enjoy getting away from the wizarding world for a bit. But what if she found it boring and didn't like it? He hadn't even brought her anything. Maybe he should have brought flowers? Candy?

"Are we going?" Ginny's voice interupted his sudden and frantic thought process. He looked down to find her watching him carefully, waiting for an answer.

"Uh--yeah," he replied, his voice a bit uneven and higher than usual as he spoke. "Yeah--let's go," he repeated, finding his voice finally.

"Bye, Mum," Ginny called to her mother who had turned back to the stove momentarily. "Goodbye Fleur," she added to her sister in law at the table.

Her mother offered a smile and a wave and Fleur responded with a goodbye in French as Harry and Ginny moved towards the door, Ginny taking his hand in hers as they walked.

With the back door of the Burrow closed behind them, they were soon alone in the small garden, hand in hand in the quickly darkening evening.

"So is there a reason why you're so off-kilter tonight, Mr. Potter?" Ginny asked as they lapsed into a moment of silence

"Off-kilter?" Harry repeated in question.

"You were awefully jittery in there," Ginny replied. "And I saw you standing outside the door, pacing for about 2 minutes before you finally came in," she admitted, leaning up against him, her arms reaching up to wrap around his neck as she looked up at him knowingly.

Nothing got past her, did it?

"I'm--" Harry began hoarsly, forced to clear his throat. "I'm just a bit--nervous. I want tonight to go well and...well...it didn't help matters when you came down the stairs....like this," Harry continued, gesturing to her outfit that was certainly way better than a pair of jeans or a jumper.

"Is there something wrong with the way I'm dressed?" she asked him.

"No," Harry blurted out. "You...well you--you're--" Harry spluttered and Ginny's mouth broke into a wide grin as she watched him struggle.

"The top and the skirt are Hermione's," she informed him. "So you can blame her for your sudden inability to form coherent sentences," she teased him.

"No...I think i'll thank her instead," Harry corrected her. "And then I'll warn Ron to be on the lookout is she ever wears this outfit," he teased back. "You look amazing," he added quietly, bending down to close the space between them caused by height difference and kissing her softly.

The kiss lasted only a few seconds, but was long and tender enough to calm his nerves and yet drum up those wonderful butterflies that seem to fill his stomach each time they kissed.

"Thank you," she whispered to him as their lips had just parted. "And you've got no reason to worry about tonight," she assured him. "It's not like this is your one and only audition for this relationship, Harry. You've already got me...and I'm just looking forward to spending more time with you...no matter what you've got planned," she added with a smile, her arms still around his neck.

Even in the darkness of the invading night her eyes were so intense, so rich with color. Her eyes were a wide, deep brown, flecked with the most amazing bits of gold. And when they looked at him and focused on him solely--he always found himself unable to think, unable to breathe, unable to tear himself away from her. Not that he wanted to...sometimes he thought he could live on her gaze forever.

"It's nearly seven," she whispered to him, not taking her eyes from his as she swallowed heavily.

She felt so warm, so good pressed up against him like she was as they held each other in the dimly lit garden. Her body was touching his in all the right places, the feeling driving him absolutely crazy. So much so, that it suddenly occured to him that it wouldn't be so bad to spend the rest of the night like this or in other positions of close proximity...

Not that they were anywhere near reaching a point that encompassed more than snogging or innocent touching...but that didn't mean his hormones knew that or embraced it and didn't occasionally dream of more. He was eighteen for Merlin's sake.

"Yeah..." Harry breathed out after another few moments of slightly uncomfortable, but blissful silence. He slowly shook himself back to reality, glancing down at the pocket watch he'd produced from his jeans.

With a dreamy sort of smile, Harry offered his arm to Ginny. She eagerly and readily took it, hooking her own with his.

And then with just as much slow deliberatiion as they had used to let go of one another moments ago, they turned on the spot, heading towards the beginning of their evening.

Reviews 17
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