Ginny could not sleep. She hugged her pillow close to her as she absently watched Hermione sleep peacefully in the bed beside her. Part of her wished she’d never joined Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the twins in eavesdropping on the Order meeting just before Christmas. They’d overheard Moody, Tonks, and Arthur talking about how they’d thought Harry might be possessed by Voldemort. Ginny knew it was impossible, but Harry had avoided them for days before she’d finally been able to explain to him why he wasn’t possessed.
And she’d been plagued by dreams about Harry and Tom Riddle ever since. The mere thought of Voldemort possessing anyone had dragged up painful memories from her first year–memories she had done quite well pushing down until this week.
Her heart hurt when she thought about how Harry must have felt to hear that Voldemort might be controlling him and that he might have attacked her father the night he’d been bitten by the snake.
She didn't want to think about Harry suffering. To get right down to it, Ginny didn't want to think about Harry at all. She had her own life, interests and friends, separate from his. And she wanted to keep it that way.
Ginny buried her face in her hands and began to concentrate on her breathing. It had always helped her banish her intrusive thoughts about Tom.
Inhale . . .Exhale, she told herself.
Inhale. Cedric dead. Exhale.
Inhale. Blood running down Harry's arm. Exhale.
Inhale. Harry covered in blood in the Chamber. Exhale.
Inhale. Tom Riddle laughing at her. Exhale.
With each breath, a new image flashed through her mind and pierced her heart with pain.
Oh, hell. This is not calming me down, she thought, frustrated. She kicked off her blankets and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. Perhaps a walk would help her take her mind off of Harry and her dark memories.
Ginny was surprised to see a soft light flickering under the kitchen door. Evidently, she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep tonight.
She slowly pushed open the door, peering into the kitchen cautiously lest she run into Kreacher. Lately he had taken to throwing frying pans at her while calling her a blood traitor at the top of his lungs.
She let out a sigh of relief when she saw Sirius sitting alone at the kitchen table, a large bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhisky in front of him. She suspected he’d just opened it because it was nearly full.
Sirius looked up at the sound of the door and raised his eyebrows at her. “You’re up late,” he said quietly. He took a long drink of dark amber firewhisky from a glass tumbler.
“So are you,” Ginny replied, hoping to avoid the subject of what was keeping her awake. She retrieved a glass from above the kitchen sink and filled it with water. Sirius didn’t seem interested in interrogating her. He was leaning on the table, looking down at his glass as if deep in thought.
Ginny wasn’t sure she wanted to talk to anyone, but she certainly didn’t want to go back to bed where she’d be alone with her unsettling thoughts. Sirius seemed to be too wrapped up in his own melancholy and loneliness to pry.
He drained his glass and immediately poured himself another, filling it nearly to the brim. His dark hair fell across his face, and he did not brush it away. His eyes, once hollow and sunken from years of malnourishment, had begun to show the life of a younger man at Christmas. But tonight, they had returned to their usual darkness.
“Mind if I join you?” she asked.
“Go ahead,” grunted Sirius, motioning to the wooden chair across from him.
Ginny moved toward the table, but stopped to watch Sirius take another drink. She imagined that firewhisky must feel like warm, blissful oblivion compared to her nightmares. Without another thought, she poured her water down the drain and took a seat across from Sirius. She set her empty glass on the table with a dull thud.
Sirius looked up at the sound, and his eyes widened slightly. “No way,” he said, shaking his head emphatically. “Your mother will kill me.”
“She’s at St. Mungo’s tonight with Dad, and she won’t be back until morning,” Ginny replied evenly. “She’ll never know.”
Sirius continued to shake his head. “You’re fourteen–”
“And it’s not my first time,” she said firmly, cutting him off.
Sirius gave her a hard look, as if deciding whether to believe her.
“At the Hog’s Head. Loads of times,” she added, careful to maintain eye contact. This wasn’t completely true, and she didn’t want to give herself away. The barkeep had given her a bit of firewhisky only a couple of times. Fred and George commonly snuck it in from Hogsmeade, but they never shared much with her.
To Ginny’s surprise, Sirius’ face broke into a grin. “Do you always lie so easily?”
Ginny cocked her head to the side, feigning confusion. She wasn’t sure whether Sirius was bluffing, and she wasn’t going to let him goad her into giving herself away. It was best to say as little as possible.
Sirius rolled his eyes, but Ginny didn’t flinch. Finally, Sirius grabbed the bottle and tipped it into her glass, giving her a generous pour. “You’d better not tell anyone.”
Ginny felt a thrill of excitement as she slid the glass toward her, slopping a few drops of firewhisky over the edge. “I’m good with secrets,” she said cooly, trying to hide her eagerness.
“Seems like all we do is keep secrets in this house,” he replied, his eyes suddenly dark again. Ginny wondered if he was obliquely referring to the Order. Sirius and her mother had disagreed fiercely on whether to share information from the Order with Harry and the others.
Ginny decided it was best not to press him lest he change his mind about the firewhisky and send her back to bed. The two of them sat in silence for a while, sipping their drinks. The dark, amber liquid burned her throat as she drank, making her eyes water. She avoided Sirius’ gaze, hoping he wouldn’t notice her inexperience.
“So what sorrows are you drowning in?” he said gruffly, breaking the long silence.
Ginny jumped, startled by his abruptness. “S-Sorry?” she coughed, choking on her drink.
“Nobody drinks firewhisky alone at midnight unless there’s something they’re trying to forget,” he replied casually.
“I could ask you the same,” she said sharply, hoping to put him off.
But Sirius was unperturbed. “You know my story,” he said hollowly.
Ginny sighed as she felt the warmth from the firewhisky steal over her body. It wasn’t hard to guess what kept Sirius up at night–the horrors of twelve years in prison, guilt over the murder of his best friend, frustration at his continuing house arrest, shame for his inability to give Harry the home he needed. After a dozen years in a prison that forced him to relive his worst memories, he was imprisoned again in the very house where many of those bad memories were made. And there was also the fact that Harry was leaving tomorrow for Hogwarts...
Ginny took another drink and said nothing. He would have to force it out of her if he wanted her to talk about herself. She leaned back in her chair, feeling the tension melt away from her shoulders.
“Boy trouble?” he asked. She felt a stab of annoyance at his persistence.
“You could say that,” she said, doing her best to sound aloof. Perhaps if she seemed uninterested, he would drop the subject.
She drained her glass as her mind drifted back to Harry and Tom. “Boy trouble” was a stretch, but it sounded far more boring and predictable than the truth. Perhaps Sirius would assume it was just silly teenage drama and let it go.
Ginny pushed her empty glass back to Sirius and raised her eyebrows at him.
“You sure you’re up for more?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
She decided she was up for more because she was still thinking about Harry and Tom. “I feel fine,” she said, her voice a bit higher than she’d intended.
He shrugged and poured her another glass without argument. Ginny felt a small, satisfied smile spread across her face.
“Is that Michael Corner giving you a hard time?”
Ginny let out a laugh, a little too loudly. “No, of course not!”
Sirius pointed his wand at the kitchen door and muttered, “Muffliato.”
Ginny cocked her head. This time she was genuinely confused.
Sirius smirked. “It’s so nobody hears us.”
Ginny nodded, taking a deep drink from her glass. The firewhisky no longer burned her throat. Instead, she felt a pleasant warmth fill her belly and begin to spread through her limbs. Unable to stop herself, she asked abruptly, “How’d you know about Michael?”
“Harry told me about him,” Sirius said offhandedly, as he refilled his own glass.
Ginny’s stomach clenched, and her mind started to race. Harry had been talking about her? Why would he be doing that? He did not notice her. He thought so little of her that he’d risked his life to save her from Tom Riddle and couldn’t even recall the incident.
“What did he say?” she demanded, sitting up straighter. The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop herself. She was suddenly desperate to know and was having difficulty hiding it.
Sirius looked up thoughtfully. “Hmm, now that I think of it, it was Ron. He’d said you were dating ‘a slimey git named Michael Corner from Ravenclaw.’”
Ginny sighed and sank back into her chair, swallowing her disappointment. It was better to not think of Harry at all.
“That sounds like Ron,” she said sourly. She tipped her head back, gulping down more firewhisky.
“So what’s Harry done to you?” asked Sirius. His voice was casual, but his words felt like a punch to the gut. Ginny choked on her firewhiskey, coughing loudly as some of it trickled out her nose, burning. Inexplicably, she felt herself start to laugh.
“Why would you think Harry’s done something?” she replied nervously, still coughing a bit.
Sirius said nothing, taking another drink. His silence made her stomach clench.
She bit down on her tongue and willed herself to calm down. But it seemed the firewhisky had other plans.
“I don’t think about Harry anymore,” she continued hastily, unable to stop herself.
“Anymore?” Sirius asked, raising his eyebrows. Ginny couldn’t read his tone or his face. The light in the room suddenly seemed very dim, making it difficult for her to see him clearly. His face had seemed so lined and weary moments ago, but now it seemed smooth and alert.
“S’right,” she said, nodding. She furrowed her brow. Had she slurred a bit there? She straightened up, fighting the heaviness in her limbs and the fuzziness in her brain. All she knew was that she could not let Sirius know about her feelings–even though they clearly did not exist anymore–for Harry. She couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t tell Harry and give Harry the wrong idea. Besides, she was with Michael now…
Sirius nodded slowly, a roguish smile playing on his lips. “And you don’t think about him anymore because…?” he trailed off slowly.
Ginny fought the urge to roll her eyes. Perhaps Sirius had had too much to drink. “Because he doesn’t think about me,” she replied, doing her best to enunciate slowly and clearly since Sirius was having so much trouble following their conversation.
“He doesn’t?”
She furrowed her brow, confused. She had a vague feeling that she wasn’t making her point. She bit her lip, trying to recall what point she was trying to make.
“I don’t know what he thinks about, and I don’t care anymore because I’m with Michael,” she replied, doing her best to sound uninterested in Harry. There, that should be clear enough for him.
Sirius gave a small chuckle and downed his glass of firewhiskey before refilling it. “Of course.”
Ginny downed hers as well, barely noticing that the burning sensation was gone. She was glad that Sirius was finally understanding whatever it was that she wanted him to know. She pushed her empty glass toward him and looked at him pointedly.
To her surprise, he shook his head. “I think you’ve had enough.”
Ginny felt a rush of indignation. “Nonsense. I feel fine!”
“How about some Butterbeer instead?” he asked, raising his wand to Summon a Butterbeer.
“How ’bout you stop worrying about me?” she spat, feeling annoyed. She folded her arms across her chest and gave him a stony glare. She didn’t need to be smothered.
“Suit yourself,” he replied, shrugging. Ginny relaxed a bit, glad that he was backing down. He poured her another glass. It didn’t escape her notice that it was a bit smaller this time. She sipped it a bit slower than before, determined to prove to Sirius that she was not intoxicated.
“So why doesn’t Harry think about you?” he asked abruptly.
Ginny put down her glass, confused by the change of topic. “Huh?”
“You said Harry doesn’t think about you.”
Ginny rolled her eyes, annoyed. “Ugh! Why do we have to talk about Harry?”
“Seems like he’s on your mind.”
“Seems like he’s on a lot of people’s minds!” Ginny shot back. It seemed like everyone around her loved to talk about Harry–Ron, Hermione, her mother, Tom Riddle, and now Sirius.
Thankfully, Sirius dropped the subject and returned to sipping his firewhisky in silence. But Ginny’s thoughts stayed on Harry. It had been a long time since she’d let herself think much about him. Nothing good came of thinking about him… only disappointment. She was just Ron’s little sister to Harry.
“Yes, you are Ron’s little sister,” said Sirius suddenly, chuckling. The bottom dropped out of Ginny’s stomach. Had she said that out loud? “What else would you want to be to him?”
Unbidden, the word girlfriend popped into her mind. She shuddered and bit down on her tongue, banishing it as quickly as it came.
***
Harry was lying in his bed at 12 Grimmauld Place. He’d been staring at the dark ceiling for quite awhile now, dreading the morning. He would be returning to Hogwarts in the morning, and for the first time in his life, he was not looking forward to it.
He sighed, feeling regret weighing heavy on his chest. Sirius had been delighted to have everyone at the house for Christmas, but Harry had spent nearly the entire holiday break in a foul mood. He’d believed he was being possessed by Voldemort, and it wasn’t until Ginny explained how possessions work that he’d realized he was wrong. He wished he’d had more time to enjoy Sirius’ company now that he was certain he wasn’t a danger to everyone in the house.
Ron turned over in the bed next to him, snorting loudly. Harry knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep anytime soon once Ron started snoring again. He rolled out of bed, deciding that a glass of water might help him relax.
Harry was surprised to see a soft light glowing under the kitchen door. He pushed it open slowly and was even more surprised to find Sirius and Ginny sitting at the table.
“Harry!” exclaimed Sirius, his face breaking into a wide grin.
“Harry!” echoed Ginny loudly. She scraped her chair loudly on the ground as she turned to see him. She was also grinning broadly.
“Can’t sleep,” said Harry, a bit taken aback at their excitement. “Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all!” said Sirius, waving his wand animatedly as the chair next to Ginny slid out from under the table.
“Not at all!” echoed Ginny, giggling loudly. Her cheeks looked a bit rosy, and her eyes were brighter than usual.
Harry eyed the nearly empty bottle of firewhisky on the table as he sat down next to Ginny. His eyes grew wide.
“Ginny…are you drunk?” he asked, slightly incredulous. He’d never known Ginny to be a stickler for rules like Hermione, but he’d never imagined she’d be so bold as to get drunk when her mother could turn up at any moment.
“Course ’snot!” she giggled, slurring a bit.
“Definitely,” said Sirius at the same time, nodding his head vigorously.
Harry couldn’t help laughing. “Not you, too?”
“Don’t listen to ’im, Harry. He’s drunk,” said Ginny, putting her hand on his arm. Her palm felt warm and soft. She let go a moment later to lightly brush a strand of her fiery red hair out of her eyes.
Sirius Summoned another bottle of firewhisky from the pantry and conjured a glass in front of Harry, who took it with pleasure. The cheerful mood in the room lifted his spirits, and he suddenly wanted to join them. Perhaps a little firewhisky would take his mind off of his imminent departure.
A moment later, the kitchen door flew open with a loud bang. Harry felt Ginny jump in the seat next to him. His head whipped around, expecting to see an angry Mrs. Weasley.
“Are you having a party without us?” asked Fred, striding into the kitchen with a grin on his face. Ron stumbled in behind him as if he’d been pushed, and George followed closely behind him. Like Harry, all three boys were in their pajamas.
“It’s a party now!” exclaimed Ginny, giggling loudly.
“We found our little brother sneaking into Hermione’s room,” snickered George. Harry noticed Hermione slip through the doorway behind George, rubbing her eyes in the bright kitchen light. She adjusted her light blue robe to wrap it more tightly around her, as if embarrassed.
“I wasn’t sneaking into her room!” said Ron sourly as he collapsed into the chair next to Harry, looking annoyed. Hermione quietly sat down on Ron’s other side.
“I certainly hope knocking over that coat rack wasn’t your idea of being stealth,” smirked Fred. He and George sat down on opposite sides of Sirius, each conjuring their own glasses and helping themselves to some firewhisky.
“I noticed Harry was gone–” started Ron.
“And you assumed he’d gone to see the girls?” asked George. He threw back his glass, and Fred quickly poured him another.
“Imagine our surprise when we found our little sister missing as well,” said Fred, looking pointedly at Ginny.
“It seemed that Harry had run off with our sister,” continued George.
“And it was our duty to–”
“How’d you know I didn’t run off with ’arry?” interrupted Ginny, swaying a bit in her seat. “I could’ve carried ‘im off!”
“Ginny!” gasped Hermione, clearly in shock. “You’re drunk!”
To Harry’s surprise, Ginny shook her head as she leaned across him to look at Hermione. Her hair smelled faintly of flowers. “No, Hermione, you’re drunk!”
Hermione raised her eyebrows. “I’m drunk? I’m not the one slurring my words.”
“’S okay, Hermione,” said Ginny. “When you’re drunk, everyone else sounds drunk.”
“Yes, Hermione, you’re the only drunk person in this room,” said Fred, nodding in agreement as Hermione rolled her eyes.
Fred and George sat down next to Sirius and conjured themselves glasses. Without missing a beat, Ron reached across the table and snatched George’s glass.
“Better not leave me out,” he said, as George conjured another glass.
Hermione leaned across Ron and hissed at Ginny, “You should really slow down!”
Harry glanced at Ginny, who was sitting on his other side. Her cheeks were still rosy, and he couldn’t help smiling at her goofy grin. She looked happier than he’d seen her in awhile. Her long mane of red hair was threaded into a loose plait. It stretched down her front like a long, silky rope.
He tipped another glass of firewhisky down his throat, cringing a bit as it burned all the way into his belly. George filled all of the empty glasses on the table with a quick wave of his wand.
“Oh, none for me, thanks,” said Hermione primly, pushing her glass away.
There was a small uproar of protesting from Sirius and the twins, but Ron silenced them with a loud whistle.
“Oy! She said she doesn’t want any!” he said sharply. Hermione flushed a bit, but smiled appreciatively at him. He turned to her and took her glass. “I’ll take care of that for you.”
The twins guffawed as Ron took a long drink from her glass. “That was quite chivalrous of you until you took her firewhisky for yourself,” smirked Fred.
Ron ignored him, and Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry wasn’t sure whether she was disapproving of Ron or Fred.
Within minutes, Ron had finished both of his glasses. He seemed eager to catch up.
“So what brought you down here, Harry?” asked Sirius casually.
“Can’t sleep,” shrugged Harry, feeling warmer and more relaxed than he had earlier. “We’re going back to Hogwarts tomorrow, and this is the first time in my life that I’m not looking forward to it.”
Sirius nodded in agreement, and Harry felt a pang of guilt. Sirius had been delighted to have everyone at the house for Christmas, but Harry had spent nearly the entire holiday break in a foul mood. He’d believed he was being possessed by Voldemort, and it wasn’t until Ginny explained how possessions work that he’d realized he was wrong. He wished he’d had more time to enjoy Sirius’ company now that he was certain he wasn’t a danger to everyone in the house.
“Can’t see why you wouldn’t be excited to see Umbridge,” muttered Ginny darkly.
“I’m sure she’s counting down the days until I’m back,” replied Harry with a wry smile.
“Don’t you have a girlfriend now?” asked Fred, refilling his glass. Ron hissed at him, but he ignored him. “You’re not looking forward to seeing her?”
Sirius perked up at Fred’s comment. “Girlfriend?”
Harry felt his face grow hot. He wasn’t sure where he stood with Cho at the moment.
“Er–I don’t know if she’s my girlfriend,” he said hesitantly. His eyes automatically darted to Ginny, who was looking determinedly at the table.
“But Ron said you kissed her,” said George. Ron jerked, and George winced.
“Well, we haven’t really talked much since then…” said Harry slowly, suddenly feeling even more uncomfortable. His stomach clenched as he wondered if Cho thought he was her boyfriend.
Fred pulled a face. “Not a good kiss, then?”
“No!” replied Harry hotly. Why did everyone assume he was a bad kisser?
“Harry is not a bad kisser!” said Ron, defensively. “That’s not what I told you!”
“How do you know what he kisses like?” laughed George.
But Sirius interrupted. “It’s perfectly normal to kiss girls who aren’t your girlfriend!”
“I’m not sure Harry’s girlfriend would agree with that,” smirked Ginny, catching Harry’s eye. Harry grinned, feeling a bit lighter now that the focus was shifting away from his kissing prowess.
Sirius chuckled, nodding. “Right, of course. It’s normal to kiss other girls if you don’t have a girlfriend,” he said. “I kissed plenty of girls at Hogwarts, and only a handful of them became my girlfriends.”
Girlfriends? thought Harry. Exactly how many girls had Sirius dated?
“Maybe that’s your problem, Harry,” said Fred, nodding his head sagely as he helped himself to more Firewhisky. “You need to kiss some more girls.”
“I haven’t got a problem!” blurted Harry, setting his glass on the wooden table with a loud thud and spilling a bit of Firewhisky. He was vaguely aware that he might have slammed his glass down. His body felt like it was faintly humming, dulling his senses.
“But you wouldn’t know if you did, would you?” retorted Fred quickly. Harry stared at him for a moment, his brain feeling a bit fuzzy. He supposed it was possible that he could be a bad kisser without knowing it.
“Leave Harry alone!” said Hermione, glaring at Fred. “I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with him.”
“Would you like to kiss him, then?” asked George, his eyes bright with suppressed laughter.
“Of course, she wouldn’t!” interrupted Ron, hotly. Harry shook his head vigorously before sending Hermione an apologetic look, and he found that she, too, was shaking her head quite decisively. He sat back in his chair, grateful that the three of them could all agree that Harry and Hermione should not kiss each other. Without thinking, his eyes darted to Ginny again, who was quietly sipping on her Firewhisky. His head was swimming a bit, making her face hard to read.
“Not a good sign, Harry,” said Fred, chuckling. “No takers!”
Sirius snorted loudly. “You’d all know if Harry were a bad kisser because his girlfriend would have told all of her friends. But I’m sure you haven’t heard anything of the sort!”
Ron nodded sagely, as if he knew these things to be true, and Fred and George grunted in what Harry assumed with grudging agreement. Harry felt his face heat up again. He couldn’t help feeling a bit embarrassed that Sirius had to defend him.
“Besides,” Sirius continued, “nobody’s first kiss is perfect.”
“Yeah,” giggled Ginny. “Fred’s was a disaster. If anyone’s a bad kisser…”
Harry found himself laughing with the rest of the table, feeling immediately lighter. He drained his Firewhisky, and Ginny pushed the bottle towards him so he could refill his glass. He grinned at her, suddenly feeling an urge to brush a flaming red tendril of hair out of her face.
Only Fred wasn’t laughing. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, sis,” he said shortly.
Ginny tossed her hair over her shoulder, filling the air with a wonderful flowery scent. Without realizing it, Harry leaned a bit closer to her, inhaling the sweet smell. He felt a sharp pain in his shin, and he jerked upright. Sirius was staring at him with his eyebrows raised across from Harry.
“Our sister must be really drunk,” said George with a chuckle. “Fred’s first kiss was with Alicia Spinnet, and she couldn’t stop gushing about it for days!”
Ron looked thoughtful. “Right, I think I remember her talking about that,” he said slowly, as if struggling to recall. Hermione rolled her eyes and sipped her water quietly. But Harry noticed that Ginny was slowly shaking her head, grinning madly and swaying a bit in her seat. A moment later, he found his hand on her back, steadying her. He quickly pulled it away when he realized what he was doing. If Ginny noticed, she didn’t let on.
“My first kiss was with Gracie Taylor,” said Sirius with faraway look of fond nostalgia. “I stuck my whole tongue in her mouth and nearly choked her.”
The entire table erupted in laughter. Harry found himself laughing so hard that he started to feel lightheaded.
“Gracie was one of your mother’s friends, Harry,” he added. “After I kissed her, she gave me a stiff good-bye and rushed off to tell your mother how awful I was. Nearly our entire year knew by the end of the week!”
Harry and the others laughed again. He suddenly felt less anxious about his kiss with Cho. It certainly hadn’t been as bad as Sirius’, and Sirius had kissed many girls after that.
“Fred’s was so much worse!” laughed Ginny, slurring a bit. “But I’m not s’pposed to tell you!”
Fred shook his head again. “She’s completely mad,” he muttered.
“What aren’t you supposed to tell us, Ginny?” asked Ron, grinning.
Ginny leaned across Harry, her hair brushing his arms and giving him goosebumps. He couldn’t help taking in another whiff of her flowery shampoo. He was gripped with the urge to touch her silky hair, so he abruptly sat on his hands. “Fred’s first kiss was with a Muggle girl at the pub by the Burrow,” she whispered so loudly that the entire table could hear her.
Ron and Hermione’s eyes grew wide, and George exclaimed with disbelief.
“Never happened if I haven’t heard about it,” he said dismissively.
“See? I told you she’s drunk!” insisted Fred.
“Don’t worry, Fred,” said Ginny, reaching across the table to pat Fred’s hand reassuringly. “I didn’t tell them that you bumped your teeth against her mouth and split her lip open.”
Harry roared with laughter
Fred buried his face in his palm. George must have taken this as an admission of truth.
“How’d you know?” he asked Ginny, looking both shocked and thoroughly amused.
“Know what?” asked Ginny, hiccuping slightly. Harry snorted, and his nose burned as a bit of Firewhisky came out of it.
“About Fred’s firs’ kiss!” said Ron, who was slurring a bit now as well.
“He came home with blood on his face, and I helped him clean it off,” she giggled. “But don’t tell Fred I told you.”
“Don’t worry, Ginny. We won’t tell,” said George with a grin while Fred buried his face deeper into his hands. His ears were bright red.
Sirius elbowed George good-naturedly. “Alright, let’s leave your brother and sister alone.”
But Fred suddenly sat up, looking ready to strike back. “It’s not as if you’re so experienced yourself, Ginny. You’ve only ever kissed your mousy little boyfriend–that is, if either of you have even had the courage to try!”
Hermione made a disapproving sound, but Harry was surprised to hear Sirius interject with a gruff, “Lay off her, Fred.”
To Harry’s surprise, Ginny clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle more giggles. After a moment, she collected herself and said, “Michael wasn’t my first kiss.”
“You’ve had other boyfriends?” asked Ron, looking perplexed.
“Who?” asked Harry, his mouth moving of its own accord. He wasn’t even entirely sure he’d asked the question out loud.
Ginny’s head jerked toward him so fast that he’d thought he startled her.
“Oh!” she said, her face going a bit pale. She tucked her hair behind her ears and looked towards Sirius and the twins.
“Well,” she started, sitting up straighter and regaining her confidence. “It was Neville.”
Harry felt his eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. The twins laughed, and Harry heard Ron say, “When?!” He secretly wanted to know the same thing and found himself wondering how Neville, in all of his awkwardness, got a girl like Ginny to kiss him.
“After the Yule Ball–” started Ginny.
“I thought you went as friends?” asked Harry incredulously, unable to stop himself. His head was spinning with questions. Did Neville date her? Did she think Neville was a good kisser? What did she see in Neville? What did her lips taste like? He shook himself, banishing that last thought from his mind. He pushed his glass of Firewhisky away, realizing he was getting quite drunk.
Ginny paused for a moment, her mouth slightly open in surprise before she spoke again. “Yes, we went as friends, and we had a really lovely time at the Ball. He asked if he could give me a kiss good night, and I said yes.”
Harry noticed that his mouth was slightly open and quickly shut it. Ron started to speak again, but George cut him off. “Was it wet?”
Harry felt his face heat up with embarrassment. He looked between Ron and George, glaring. Clearly, Ron had told George that he’d described his kiss with Cho as wet.
Ginny cocked her head, confused. A red tendril fell across her face and she absently tucked it behind her ear.
“The kiss. Was it wet?” repeated George, enunciating each word slowly as if Ginny were dim. Without thinking, Harry gave George a swift kick in the shin.
“OW!” yelled Fred, glaring at Ron and Harry. Ron put his hands up, shaking his head. Harry felt himself turn even redder. If Ginny didn’t know that George was making fun of him, she likely knew now.
Ginny scrunched up her nose, looking disgusted. “No! Of course not!” she said, shaking her head.
She looked up and gave a small smile, as if recalling a fond memory. “It was quite warm...and soft.”
Ron pulled a face, but Fred and George nodded knowingly. “Warm and soft,” said George slowly. “Harry, are you sure that good kisses are supposed to be wet?”
“Honestly!” harrumphed Hermione while Ron shouted, “Oy! Lay off him!”
“As opposed to what?” asked Sirius, looking confused and slightly repulsed. The twins both cringed a bit, as if disgusted by what Sirius was implying.
Harry wasn’t sure his face could flush any more. He’d started sweating and could feel his heart pounding in his throat. He wondered whether Neville was a better kisser than he was. Would Ginny prefer him? The fuzzy thought floated into his mind as if coming out of a fog, but sent a jolt to his stomach as soon as it emerged.
“Oh, Harry!” gasped Ginny, putting her hand over her mouth and flipping her around as she turned to him. “I didn’t know–”
For some reason, Ginny’s apologetic tone made him feel even worse.
“I don’t see why–” started Sirius, but Harry barely heard him and had started to speak before he’d even realized the words had formed in his head.
“She was crying,” he blurted, desperate to explain himself. To whom, exactly, he wasn’t sure. But he certainly felt in that moment that it needed to be known.
Sirius eyes widened for a fleeting moment while the twins snickered, and Ron started shouting again. Harry barely heard him. He sensed that he had not communicated the situation very well. His eyes darted to Ginny who had cocked her head again, looking thoughtful.
“Before or after?” she asked curiously, causing the twins to roar with laughter. Fred fell out of his chair, gasping for breath.
“Clearly it had to be before,” interjected Sirius very loudly over the twins’ laughter. Harry looked up to see him sliding another glass of Firewhisky toward him. “Harry must have really cheered her up, right?”
“Cedric was her last boyfriend,” said Hermione to Sirius, in a low voice that was still loud enough for Harry to hear.
Sirius turned to the twins and fixed him with a stony glare. “That’s enough,” he said roughly, his voice almost a growl. Harry felt both embarrassed that Sirius knew about his disastrous first kiss and grateful to have him on his side. Sirius motioned toward Harry’s glass. “Drink up. That’s a tough one.”
“So Ginny, tell us more about Neville!” said Hermione cheerfully in a thinly veiled attempt at changing the subject. Harry felt an unfamiliar jolt in his stomach while Fred and George groaned loudly.
Ron, however, wanted details. “So how come we didn’t know that you were dating Neville?”
“I told you, we are just friends,” she said, sounding annoyed. Harry drained his glass, trying to recapture the warm lightness that the Firewhisky had brought him earlier.
“Friends don’t kiss friends,” pressed Ron.
“Hold on a minute,” said Fred, feigning shock. “Are you saying you haven’t kissed Hermione yet?”
Ron flushed a deep red while Hermione looked flustered.
“Ron and I didn’t attend the Yule Ball together,” she said stiffly.
“Yes, we all heard that he didn’t ask you,” said George. Sirius elbowed him.
“Do you always have to take the mickey out of everyone?” said Sirius, sounding irritated. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you two were jealous of your sister here.”
Fred and George burst into laughter. “Jealous of what? A chaste peck with Neville and a couple of kisses with her little boyfriend who holds her hand between classes?”
Ginny smirked. “Tha’s what you think.” Harry perked up again, feeling a heat in his blood that he thought had nothing to do with the Firewhisky.
“Who else?” asked Ron, incredulous. Fred folded his arms and shook his head in disbelief. Sirius merely raised his eyebrows as he looked at her over the rim of his glass.
Ginny ran her hand through her thick, silky hair, and Harry was overcome–again– with an urge to touch it. He abruptly shoved his hands under his thighs, unsure of what else to do with them. His head had started to swim a bit, and he didn’t trust himself at the moment.
“Dean and Seamus–” said Ginny slowly before Fred interrupted. Harry felt his jaw drop.
“So Ron’s entire dorm?” he asked.
“Except me!” blurted Harry, feeling inexplicably left out. Unbidden, he found himself wondering if Ginny’s kisses with Dean and Seamus were wet. He supposed not since Ginny didn’t cry as much as Cho.
“I’m sure Ginny would love to rectify the situation for you, Harry,” smirked George, sounding a bit sour.
“We were playing Truth or Dare!” exclaimed Ginny defensively. “Surely you’ve all played that game before?”
Sirius let out a laugh like a bark. “Nothing wrong with a good game of Truth or Dare!”
Ron pulled a face and turned to Hermione. “Did you know about this?”
Hermione shrugged sheepishly, which said everything Harry needed to know.
“Were you playing with her?” asked Ron, looking horrified. Harry was certain that Ron would not like the answer.
“Well, I only chose Truths,” said Hermione primly, tossing her bushy brown hair over her shoulder and drawing herself up a bit. “Ginny insists on only choosing Dares.”
“Dares are much more fun!” blurted Ginny, almost defensively. Harry silently agreed. He’d rather embarrass himself than divulge any of his secrets.
This seemed to satisfy Ron because he dropped the subject shortly after. The twins teased Ginny a bit more before Sirius had finally had enough. He Vanished the Firewhisky and sent everyone to bed.
Out of habit from living with the Dursleys, Harry stayed back to wipe down the table. Ginny had stood to leave, but Sirius put a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back into her seat. He waved his wand, conjuring a tall glass of water.
“Drink up or you’ll have a nasty hangover tomorrow,” he said firmly. “I reckon you drank more than your brothers.”
“Tha’s ‘cause I can handle it more,” she slurred. Harry was surprised to see Ginny comply a moment later. With another wave of his wand, Sirius cleaned the table.
“Don’t let the twins get to you, Harry,” said Sirius quietly. The melancholy he’d noticed in Sirius over the past few days seemed to have returned. “Kissing is a lot easier when you’re kissing the right girl.”
Harry nodded thoughtfully. He’d never really thought about whether Cho was the “right” girl. He’d merely thought she was pretty and hoped she’d talk to him.
“And when you’re not sending them to the hospital to get Muggle stitches,” added Ginny with a giggle.
Sirius grinned and nodded in agreement. “You’ll have plenty more opportunities to figure it out,” he continued. Then, without warning, he pulled Harry into a tight hug. Harry stiffened for a second before returning the hug, feeling grateful for the affection. Only Mrs. Weasley and Hermione ever really hugged him.
After a long moment, they broke apart. “I’ll see you in the morning before you head back to school,” he said gruffly. Harry could tell that Sirius wasn’t looking forward to it. Harry felt the same. He motioned to Ginny. “You two better head to bed.”
They bid Sirius good night and slowly climbed the stairs, both careful not to slip in their slightly inebriated state. Hermione and Ginny’s room was on the first landing.
Ginny stopped in front of her bedroom door and turned as if to bid him goodnight.
“Truth or dare,” he said suddenly, surprising himself.
Ginny gave a small gasp, but seemed to collect herself quickly. “Truth,” she said quietly.
It was Harry’s turn to be caught off guard. “I thought you only did Dares,” he teased, shooting her a crooked smile.
“Truths can be dangerous,” she said, shrugging. She looked up at him, her eyes bright. “I trust you with my Truths.”
She didn’t have to say more for him to understand. He nodded slowly, his eyes darting to her lips, and he asked the first question that came to his mind.
“Am I really a bad kisser?” He felt his face burn again as the words came tumbling out of his mouth. It wasn’t what he’d meant to say, but suddenly all he could think about was kissing her and he had accidentally voiced his fear of what would happen if he did.
To his surprise, Ginny gave him a playful smile and stepped closer to him, lightly brushing against him. He felt waves of electricity surge through his body from her touch.
“Harry,” she said in a low voice that seemed to awaken a monster in his chest. “You know there’s only one way for me to determine that.”
Her boldness calmed his pounding heart and gave him courage to run his hand down her arm. Her skin was soft and warm. “Then I dare you to find out,” he said huskily.
Ginny leaned against him, her hands splayed on his chest and turned her head up. His hand automatically slipped from her arm to her waist, and he met her easily, capturing her lips with his. Her lips felt soft, warm...and not too wet.
He raised his other hand to her face, cupping her cheek and deepened the kiss instinctually. It felt natural, right, and exhilarating.
Finally, they broke apart, both breathing hard. Harry’s heart was pounding again, but this time with excitement.
They slowly disentangled from each other, smiling and blushing furiously. Harry had felt so sure of what to do a moment ago, but now that she wasn’t in his arms, he felt clumsy and awkward.
“You’re not a bad kisser,” whispered Ginny, her cheeks still pink. Harry felt a stab of disappointment, worried that she didn’t like it. Ginny must have sensed it because she giggled nervously. “That was–” she started, sounding breathless. “That was the best kiss I’ve ever had.”
She turned away abruptly and opened the door as Harry’s heart leapt with happiness. He watched her sweep into the bedroom, realizing that Sirius had been right–kissing the right girl made all the difference.