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!
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Category: Post-OotP, Post-HBP, Post-DH/AB Characters:Harry/Ginny, Harry/Ginny Genres: Romance Warnings: Intimate Sexual Situations, Negative Alcohol Use Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 102 Summary: Harry and Ginny have fun learning that there's a first time for everything. What are friends for, right? Hitcount: Story Total: 51923; Chapter Total: 14290 Author's Notes: |
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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.” “W ell. 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.” *********************** Aug ust 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.” ************************** J uly 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.” |
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