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Firsts | ||||||
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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: 51933; Chapter Total: 9912 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! |
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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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